“What colour is it?” called Scott, peering through the darkness.
“Red,” replied Kayo. She sounded close by, but in the dense scrub layer, she was near invisible.
“How are we ever going to find it?” grumbled Scott, tugging at another vine that had wrapped itself around his foot. “Doesn’t this thing have some sort of homing beacon?”
“Scott, that’s it!” The rustling to his right stopped as Kayo stood still, fiddling with something on her comm. “Over here,” she called as she sprinted ahead.
Scott cursed as he tripped and crashed his way through the jungle, but it wasn’t long before the rainforest began to thin and he could see light ahead. A fallen tree created a gap in the canopy above and Scott squinted in the sudden brightness of the sun.
“Up there,” he called suddenly, pointing up at the vines. The drone struggled feebly in one place, well and truly tangled, and Scott and Kayo moved as one to climb the tree.
“Watch out for snakes,” warned Kayo, but Scott could hardly hear her. All that mattered was reaching the drone and his heart beat loudly in his ears as he fixed his eyes on the mechanical prize above them.
They climbed steadily, pausing only to help each other in the difficult ascent. Muscle aches meant nothing, scratches against the rough bark meant nothing in comparison to reaching that drone.
It sensed them before they could grab it.
“Stay still,” muttered Kayo, as she and Scott wrestled with the drone. Even trapped in the vines, it was dodging their every attempt to retrieve the antivenom.
“We’re not thieving you, you stupid machine,” said Scott. “Ow!”
He reeled back as one of the vines snapped and the drone surged forwards. His hand flew up unbidden and he felt rather than saw the way the antivenom was knocked from the drone’s mounted carrier frame.
He could hear Kayo’s gasp as he desperately scrabbled at the vial, falling upside down in the attempt, but he could do little more than watch as the glass glinted in the sun, falling down, down, down towards the ground and was finally swept away by a stream.
“No,” he whispered. And then he screamed, anger and terror and pain falling from his lips – a flood of battered emotions that had been building for the last eight months, that had spiked with the words Gordon had delivered a mere two hours ago,. He could see Virgil, Gordon, his dad, staring at him with cold, dead expressions of accusation on their faces. He would have to tell Grandma and Brains. God, did John and Alan even know that their brother was fighting for his life in the Amazon rainforest? What would they say when they found out that there had been a chance, that Scott had destroyed it with his own hands?
Kayo was speaking hurriedly on the comm, and distantly he could see Gordon’s pale face. For a moment, their eyes met and Gordon’s lips thinned as a determined look settled over him. That was enough for Scott, the sight of a little brother who hadn’t yet given up. So long as one of them believed, Scott could live on borrowed hope from his brothers a little while longer. He snapped back to command mode.
“Kayo, we’re going after it. We didn’t see it break, we just need to follow the river. Gordon, keep him stable.”
“I –”
“Do as I say,” his voice thundered. “We’re getting that vial and Virgil will be fine. Don’t think of anything else.”
“I was going to say I will,” snapped Gordon. “Just get a move on, you’re wasting time.”
***
It wasn’t good news, Virgil could immediately see that. A fresh wave of pain washed over him that had nothing to do with the venom coursing through his bloodstream. It tore at his heart to watch Gordon drop his head in his hands, swearing viciously under his breath at Scott’s parting news.
His vision was still blurry but he could still see enough to know what caused the resounding clang that reverberated through the medbay.
“Hey,” he gasped through another spike in pain as his body automatically winced in response. “Leave Two out of this, she hasn’t done anything to you.”
“She hasn’t done anything to help either,” shot Gordon back at him.
“Don’t say that,” he said, stretching his good hand out to beckon Gordon over. “She does a lot of good. ‘Ts not her fault I’m like this.”
Gordon fell into the seat next to him, hand automatically reaching for his. Before Gordon could do anything else, Virgil gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, empirical evidence that despite everything he was still here with his brother.
“Yeah,” said Gordon quietly. “Yeah I know.”
Virgil groaned suddenly, as a new, darker pain made itself known, rearing off the stretcher and tugging at the IV line in his arm. Gordon thrust his arm underneath his head to soften the blow as he fell backwards again.
“Sorry,” he panted. “It’s moved.”
“Where?”
“Radiating, left side. And stomach.”
Virgil could feel the way his brother’s body tensed at his words and for the first time, he felt a slither of fear and doubt creeping into his heart.
“Doc?” Gordon called softly, not breaking eye contact with Virgil.
“Yes, yes?” Furnier rushed to his side, nearly tripping in his eagerness to be of assistance.
“There’s a kitchenette three doors down where you could make a drink, get some food.”
“Oh,” said Furnier, furrowing his brow. “That’s a nice thought, but quite unnecessary.”
“Dr Furnier,” Gordon said, deciding the time for tact was well gone. I’m not asking. I need a moment with my brother. It’s on the left, follow the yellow line on the floor.”
“Oh, of course,” he said, blushing bright enough that even Virgil could see it clearly on his skin, and he turned quickly and left the small room.
“Gordon,” he began, but his brother was already pulling away from him.
“Don’t, Virgil,” he warned. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“You don’t even know what I have to say.”
“I’m not interested in what you’re going to say. You think I can’t see it?”
“Gordon, I don’t want to fight.”
“That’s the problem,” shouted Gordon, turning back towards him. “You think I don’t know what it looks like when you give up?”
“I haven’t,” protested Virgil. He moaned as his stomach spasmed in pain again. He tried to focus on Gordon beyond the pain, but his brother swam in and out of his vision as his symptoms demanded to be acknowledged.
“Gords, I’m scared,” he choked out. He couldn’t see, vision blurred by the toxin and his tears, but he felt the gentle way Gordon rested his hand on his head. He felt awful, sweaty and gross and in more pain than he could remember. And he was tired. He knew his limits well, he tested them every day. He knew what the bone-deep exhaustion under all the pain meant and he was terrified of what came next. He’d never pictured dying in his ‘bird before.
Surprisingly, Gordon was quiet as he listened to the shallow breathing that Virgil was snatching between pained moans. He lifted Virgil’s head and shoulders and rested him back down on the numerous folded towels that would help keep his airways open, trying to be prepared for the next stage of envenomation where his respiratory system would begin to fail.
His hands were steady as he worked but Virgil could feel the slight tremor in his fingers as he brushed his slick hair back off his face.
“I’m scared too, Virg,” he finally said in a low voice. “It’s okay to be scared.”
Virgil said nothing, too exhausted to refute him.
The comm beeped interrupting them and Gordon looked at his wrist.
“We got it,” panted Scott. “We got it, we’re on our way.”
Virgil’s heart leapt and he closed his eyes to rest in the relief that washed over him at those words. Gordon said something, his voice light like Virgil hadn’t heard since that morning. He felt a rush of homesickness at the thought of their living room, his family, the island. Gordon said something again, more urgently this time and Virgil realised he couldn’t grasp the meaning of the sound. His breath caught in his lungs and he became aware that his heart wasn’t leaping, it was racing.
“Gords,” he gasped, struggling to sit upright, trying to tell Gordon that he couldn’t breathe. His breath was short and sharp, his muscles spasming too quickly to allow him to fill his lungs. Faintly, he could hear Gordon calling Furnier back as he bent over to lift his jaw into the mask around his face and black spots expanded in his vision and he fell into unconsciousness.
Gordon swore, just as Furnier entered the room.
“Ever ventilated someone before?” asked Gordon, grimly.
“Gordon, what’s going on?” demanded Scott from the comm.
“Just get here, now,” snapped Gordon. “Don’t distract me.”
He turned back to Furnier.
“Okay, your job is to squeeze this bag, on my mark. It will reinflate when you let it go so you need to be steady. Got it?”
Furnier nodded, eyes wide. His gaze kept slipping back to Virgil’s face, the pallor of his skin taking on a greyish tint as his body struggled to circulate oxygen.
Gordon carefully checked the seal around the mask and nodded to Furnier.
“Now,” he said, watching the rise of Virgil’s chest. “And stop.”
They worked together in silence and Gordon kept an eye on the time with trepidation, knowing that they couldn’t keep ventilating Virgil forever, not without consequences.
The door banged open and Furnier jumped beside him.
“Kayo, Scott, take over,” he barked with barely a glance upwards.
They moved quickly, Kayo handing him the antivenom as she took his place at the crown of the stretcher. Furnier stumbled backwards in his hurry to get out of the way.
Gordon worked quickly, washing his hands and measuring out the appropriate initial dose. He reached into one of the nearby cupboards and picked up an EpiPen and lay it on the side table within easy reach.
“If you have an allergic reaction after all this?” he said, leaning down to Virgil. “I will personally dig you up so I can murder you.”
With that, he took in a shaky breath and administered the antivenom.
There was a moment of silence as the room collectively held their breath.
Virgil relaxed on the stretcher as the antivenom began to work throughout his body.
“He’s breathing,” said Gordon quietly, looking across at Scott and Kayo.
Kayo let out a sob and gathered him into a hug. The two shrieked together as they jumped together, the tension of the moment crashing around them, and Gordon laughed hysterically as he cried.
“Okay,” he said swiping at his eyes with his sleeve. “I gotta watch him, you and Scott need to get us to the nearest hospital. And man, we gotta fund some antivenom development or something, I don’t want to ever hear of a place running out again.”
“Agreed,” said Kayo fervently. “He’s really going to be alright, isn’t he?”
“Yeah,” said Gordon with a grin. “The IV will keep supplying him with antivenom and his symptoms should disappear by the time we get to the hospital. But I want him checked over all the same.”
“F.A.B. Gordon,” she said with a brilliant grin. She turned back to Scott and Gordon watched as the smile faded away.
“Scott?”
Gordon stepped forward, peering at Scott in concern. He was frozen at Virgil’s side, scarcely breath as he watched the rise and fall of Virgil’s chest. As they watched, a tear fell down his cheek and suddenly he grabbed Gordon around the waist and was clutching at him while he cried.
“Change in plans,” said Gordon, softly gathering Scott together. “Kayo, you can fly Two solo right?”
“Of course I can,” she said, her eyebrows creased in concern. “We’ll get going in five.”
She tugged Furnier away from the scene, leaving the brothers behind.
“Oh Scott,” sighed Gordon. “He’s going to be okay.”
“It was too close Gordo,” came Scott’s whispered words. “It’s always just too damn close.”
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