Less Than Little Time (Between Worlds Book 1)

by Sabina Green

  I couldn’t remember the last time I slept so well, either. Ever since we arrived, I woke up each morning and realised that I hadn’t been plagued by any nightmares about screeching saws and cut-open heads. I felt refreshed, and it was such an invigorating feeling that I couldn’t help but share it with others. I got into conversations with passers-by and with guides so often, Connie sometimes laughed and told me to stop bothering them.

  Every evening we pulled out a big map of the North Island and checked our list of planned activities. Connie had been very conscientious; everything was described in detail and meticulously marked on the map. Our route didn’t seem that logical to me, because according to her we were first going to travel around the top half of the island, then the bottom half, and then go back north and spend some time in Rotorua. She was probably basing it on the dates of the conference taking place in this town, but still. We could have moved the dates of our holiday a bit and think of a different route to avoid some of the travel.

  An obvious reproach would have been that our trip was clearly organised by a woman and a man would have figured all this out beforehand. I laughed at the memory of mentioning this back in Perth, when Connie was staring into a map, marking out interesting destinations.

  “Well, you can’t multitask,” she’d responded briskly.

  I had kept my mouth shut after that. It was clear that she put a lot of effort into our New Zealand adventure. I was glad that she had less time to worry about work.

  Tonight both Ruby and Connie fell asleep even before sunset. I didn’t feel like doing crosswords or reading the newspapers the B&B owner kindly gave me in the afternoon, so I switched the TV on and spent some time channel hopping. I took out the map and the list again, but everything was so well-planned, there was no point in double checking anything. Instead I let my mind wander, going through the experiences of the last few days, and the ones still awaiting us.

  I couldn’t wait to be on the South Island, based on the photos I saw its nature was even more gorgeous and diverse than here in the north. A shame we’d given ourselves less time there.

  Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a lab technician on the TV screen, wearing protective glasses and a face mask, bending over a microscope. The image was gone a second later, but I managed to turn the sound up quickly enough to hear the report connected to it.

  “The government is meeting tomorrow morning to discuss safety measures due to an unexpected mass surge in an illness, similar to the flu. Its symptoms are a cold, cough, headaches and sore throat, tiredness and general fatigue,” the Kiwi reporter was saying with a serious expression, while in the top right corner a smaller video showed doctor’s offices crammed with people and long queues circling around like snakes in front of pharmacies and health centres. “Medical centres have been brimming with patients for over three days now. Healthcare workers are unable to treat all of them and are sending the more serious cases straight to hospitals. Those are also reporting nearing full capacity. Testing of the viral disease has been delayed due to an inadequate number of employees, however it has started today in full and should continue without any more delays.”

  The video filled the entire screen and showed empty shelves, usually displaying various painkillers, anti inflammatory and cold meds.

  “The World Health Organisation is urging all people to remain calm and refrain from bulk buying medication in pharmacies and shops. It is also recommended that people stay in their homes and don’t go outside if they start experiencing any symptoms of the disease. If you need to buy food or seek urgent medical attention, use a face mask or a scarf to cover your mouth and nose. Maintain a distance of six feet.”

  A mass infection? What the hell?

  I reached for the newspapers and the front page title jumped out at me at once. A pandemic? Tens of thousands of people infected; a mysterious flu appears synchronously in Australia, Asia and Europe!

  I skimmed through the whole article frantically, but the information was so confusing that I had to go back to the beginning and read it all properly. I got to the continuation on pages 3, 4 and 5 and thought about the whole thing, horrified. The New Zealand government is waiting for confirmation from Africa and North and South America, but unofficial sources have confirmed the disease has appeared there as well.

  A world-wide pandemic? Synchronized…?

  What the hell was this?

  As if to confirm the whole thing, I suddenly heard violent coughing from the room next door, muffled by the thin wall, and raised my head. Connie had been under the weather for over two weeks now. I assumed it was just a nasty cold, but all the other symptoms and especially the length of it were suggesting the flu. Could she have been infected by this disease from the news?

  My good mood vanished, replaced by fear. How serious was this illness supposed to be, if it was a pandemic…?

  I had noticed an unusual number of sick people all around us, blowing their noses, coughing, or looking miserable and about to fall ill. But it was autumn, I had assumed it was simply a regular transition between the seasons.

  But in Europe it’s been the spring, just like in America, you’d think that those places would have seen a decline in illnesses. And Africa had a warm climate all year round! What did this sudden cold, well, the flu, I corrected myself internally, mean there?

  Connie

  I woke up the next morning with a splitting headache. It felt as if a buffalo had settled on my lungs, making it difficult to breathe and excruciating to cough. I tried to not breathe too deeply, because that was what set it off. Had Dad heard my last explosive outburst, or had he slept through it? I hoped for the latter, but when I heard a light knock on the door just a few minutes later, I knew that I’d been hoping in vain.

  “Come in,” I wheezed.

  He peeked into my bedroom, looking devastated. He knows everything, I thought to myself instantly. He’d somehow discovered or figured out my involvement with The Collective and the release of the plague. I’d probably have felt guilty if I wasn’t physically so sick that it left no space for emotions. How could my health get so much worse in just one day? I had felt alright yesterday morning.

  “How do you feel?”

  I answered by a violent cough which nearly tore my lungs apart. A half-asleep Ruby appeared in the door, still in her pyjamas, messy hair and sleep in her eyes. No, I thought, I don’t want her to see me like this!

  Suddenly I remembered Mark’s question. “Do you want your family to watch you die?”

  This can’t really be the end yet, he’d promised me three weeks! It hasn’t been that long, I still had at least a few more days, maybe even a whole week!

  “Two to three weeks,” I heard his voice shouting the precise words, “depending on the strength of the individual.” I’d always thought of myself as a strong, healthy person, but… this was my second fight with cancer. Was it possible that it’s weakened me so much that I’d lose a portion of my last week?

  “Connie, can you hear me?” Dad said loudly. His eyebrows became one line.

  “Sorry, I’ve got this terrible headache,” I whispered. Any kind of volume was incredibly painful. “I can’t concentrate…”

  He turned to Ruby. “It’s chilly, go lie down for a bit longer. I’ll be with you in a moment. We’ll read a story, okay?”

  She rubbed her eyes, nodded and skipped away.

  “Connie, I was watching the news last night…” The anxiety in his voice!

  I felt like pulling the duvet over my head and covering my ears to protect myself from what he was about to tell me. But I didn’t have the strength to do so. I took shallow breaths and watched his face as he was telling me about the evening news.

  So it’s started. The plague had begun and spread just as fast as The Collective anticipated. According to Dad, the pandemic was officially confirmed by governments on half the continents, and unofficial
ly on the other half. It was really quite impressive that the members managed to release the infection simultaneously without any blunders or delays. They must have really longed for the end of mankind to not allow any glitches in the realisation of their plan.

  And I’m dying.

  “On the news they said that sick people shouldn’t go outside…”

  “That makes sense,” I agreed. “To be honest, I don’t feel like going anywhere today anyway. I think I’ll just sleep the whole day. But you and Ruby should go.”

  What was on our list of trips? I couldn’t even remember, my head was filled with mist.

  I must have succumbed to the fatigue and sleep for a while, because the next thing I was aware of was Dad shaking my shoulder. It took a few seconds to bring him into focus. He stood before me fully dressed with a backpack.

  “We’ll let you rest,” he said, looking at me with concern. “We’ll stop by a pharmacy, get you Paracetamol and something for rehydration. We won’t be long.”

  The rest of the day came to me in snippets as I woke from troubled sleep. The pile of used tissues on my bedside table was growing without me remembering that I’d used them. The packet of painkillers was emptying just like the large bottle of water Dad must have placed by my bed. My duvets grew more and more damp.

  And suddenly it was late afternoon. The last pink rays of the setting sun in the grey dusk behind my windows peeked through. Voices came in from the room next door.

  “Dad?” I screeched. “Ruby?”

  They came in at once, and there was a brief struggle in the door about who will get to enter first. It made me laugh a wheezy laugh straight from my heart.

  My little girl jumped on the bed and put her hand on my forehead the way I would whenever she was poorly. “How do you feel Mummy?”

  “A bit better actually,” I answered truthfully. Sleep has worked its magic and partly loosened the knot on my chest. My headache wasn’t as splintering anymore.

  Ruby’s face gleamed. “So you’ll come fishing with us tomorrow?”

  Dad’s birthday!

  “We’ll see,” he said quickly. He swept away the dirty tissues from my bedside table and placed two boxes of Paracetamol in their place. “We went to the pharmacy. These were the last ones they had. I was actually surprised the lady behind the counter had sold me both of them.”

  He was frowning at the pills as if it was their fault that people were starting to panic and stock up on useful things.

  To stop him from worrying, or at least from talking about worrying, I asked Ruby about the trip they took. She was jumping on the bed, screaming at the top of her voice, and Dad and I couldn’t stop laughing. It was wonderful to see her so happy, so carefree and excited. How long will that last?

  “At least you’re not coughing so much anymore,” Dad whispered to me later, so Ruby wouldn’t hear. Then he chased her away to bed, and before following her to read a bedtime story, he said: “Maybe you’ll feel better tomorrow.”

  I fell asleep before I could think about his words.

  I slowly woke up and stretched my arms and legs in delight. I must have slept for at least fourteen hours and I felt… good. I rolled the word on my tongue, testing it as if it was new, unused, almost foreign.

  I sat up slowly and realised with surprise that I didn’t really need to cough, and my head was almost fine. Yesterday suddenly seemed like a distant memory. I still had chest pains and felt weak, but I was better.

  What was that supposed to mean?

  I didn’t really ask Mark for any details of the course of the illness, the idea of death was scary enough to add any precise details to it. Was some improvement normal? Or was it unusual?

  And there it was… hope. What if I can fight the plague and get healthy…? What if the terrible state I was in yesterday had more to do with the cancer metastasizing to my lungs?

  I didn’t have time to dwell on this dangerously uplifting thought, because Dad chose that moment to knock on my door and enter with a cup of hot tea. I smelled the herbs all the way from there.

  He froze, smiling. “Are you feeling better?”

  “Much better.” I nodded. “Great, actually!”

  Great might have been an exaggeration, but compared to yesterday it was.

  He sighed in relief. “I’m so glad to hear that. I was starting to worry that…”

  The news must have really unsettled him. I didn’t doubt that he spent quite some time watching them again last night. What had they said? There must have been even more cases. When would the number get high enough for Dad to panic and not want to leave the house? What would he think about being stuck out of Australia?

  “This is the best birthday present,” he smiled happily.

  I got up and hugged him. “Happy birthday, Dad! I can’t wait for the trip today!”

  He pulled away and looked at me quizzically. “Are you sure you’re well enough to come with us?”

  I’d promised him a fishing trip for today, and mainly, that I would look after Ruby so he could enjoy the lake trip fully. I really did feel good enough to join them. “You bet.”

  I was willing to break the safety procedures he was talking about the other day if it meant making Dad happy. Also, today we were meant to move out of this B&B and into a slightly different accommodation, and it was essential that I got the two of them there. The Collective had arranged a farm where they were supposed to wait out the pandemic. As far as I knew, the farm had been offering tourist accommodation for some time, providing an opportunity to experience life in the middle of New Zealand nature and life on a real farm. I would have liked the sound of that even in better circumstances, and now it seemed perfect. The photos reminded me of the old farm of my grandparents, who I used to go visit with Dad until only a few years ago. He didn’t mind the move, and I think his mind went down the memory lane too. He didn’t seem to notice the tall, sturdy-looking fence running around the majority of the estate, or the robust gate.

  We headed into the port to meet Dad’s guide. A tall bearded guy greeted us and showed us the boat, along with all his fishing equipment. Dad loved it and then Ruby and I were affectionately kicked out so that they could set off.

  We watched them until the boat became a tiny dot next to Mokoia Island. I couldn’t remember the last time Ruby and I had spent the day together alone. Dad was very much a part of her life, and even when I would have a whole weekday free, we’d normally spend it all three of us together. So today was very special to me. Dad could spend his birthday enjoying his favourite hobby, which he surely neglected back in Perth in order to help me, and I could spend time with Ruby, swim in the lake, go to a playground and for a walk. Talk about everything and nothing, make up stories, say how much we love each other.

  While Ruby was playing with some local children on the shore, throwing stones into the lake, I was sitting on a bench, watching her quietly. Thinking about all the incriminating things–the recipe book, letters, family photographs–I’d pulled out of Dad’s and Ruby’s bags as soon as I got here, and stuffed them all into my suitcase. What if one of them finds them and starts asking questions?

  Maybe I could keep them hidden for a while longer, I thought. Maybe longer than just a week… A smile remained on my lips for the rest of the afternoon, and hoped that my prayers would be answered. I’ll know more tomorrow, either way.

  When the time came, I called Ruby, who reluctantly left the group of children to join me, and we went to pick up Dad. He was gleaming as he showed us his catch.

  “I know you don’t approve,” he hesitantly approached the subject of my disapproval of any pastime involving hunting animals.

  I didn’t let him finish. “Don’t worry about it, Dad. Did you have a good time?”

  “Oh yeah,” he smiled. “Jeremy here will help me fillet them. Then we can go to the farm and make dinner.”

 
; “Sounds great.”

  Ruby and I watched the two of them work through their catch, a full dozen of fish of all sizes, whose names I couldn’t remember. They packed the fillets into newspapers a few pieces at a time, until it was all stored in a huge plastic bag. Dad insisted that Jeremy takes a few of them home. I didn’t expect him to accept, if that was his job then he must have eaten fish all the time. But he obliged.

  “Shall we?” Dad said afterwards. He still wore that happy smile. He was soaked to the skin, dirty, and smelling of fish, but so content that I couldn’t reproach him for it even if I tried. Happy as a clam at high tide, I thought to myself, smiling. He’d definitely sleep well tonight.

  We headed to our rental car where we’d kept all our luggage. Soon after that we arrived on the farm. I recalled the phone call I made that day, checking, slightly obsessively, that they were expecting us. But Darlene, the farm owner, wasn’t put off and even asked if we needed anything from the shop, since she was just going in. I was about to say no, but remembered. “A birthday cake?” I asked. She promised she’d get one, and I showered her with thanks.

  I was just wondering if Dad was going to like it, when I realised: “I forgot candles!” I slapped my forehead.

  Ruby caught that and leant forward. “There’s gonna be a cake?”

  “It’s Grampa’s birthday…”

  “And where have you stashed it?” Dad asked, surprised. Apart from the suitcases and the bag of fish, there weren’t any other bags or boxes in the car.