The Inner Struggle: Beginnings Series Book 7 (40 page)

“It’s out of control.”

“I know.” Dean reached over and shut off the suction. “Keep him steady.” Securing Robbie’s throat, Dean removed the suctioning tube. When it emerged, Robbie gasped loudly. Grabbing his stethoscope, Dean placed it in his ears and then to Robbie’s chest. He slid it over his shoulder, slipping the diaphragm in between Robbie and Ellen’s body. He listened. “Better. Much better.” He took off the stethoscope and tossed it. “Ready, El? We have to lower his body temp now.”

“I’m ready.”

Dean stepped from the bed and on to the floor. He braced Robbie under the arms so Ellen could slide out. Together, after a three count, they lifted him to his feet. Dean stood on one side, Ellen on the other, and they dragged a slumping Robbie, who wore only a thin pair of boxer shorts, to the waiting bath tub Dean had already filled.

“Dean? How are we going to do this?” Ellen asked, standing before the tub.

“Carefully. I’ll hold him while you finish undressing him.”

Ellen released her hold once she knew Dean was secure, and she took the remainder of Robbie’s clothes from him. “We’ll never lift him Dean. He’s out.”

“Never say never.” Ellen's arms were behind Robbie’s back where Dean’s arm spanned across. Dean’s hand locked on to Ellen’s wrist. “Lock our arms.”

Ellen braced his wrist. “Got it.”

“Grab hold under his leg. Get your grip.” He waited until she did. “Now on three, using your legs, lift him with me. Ready?”

“I can do this.”

“I know you can. One . . . two . . . three.” So loudly they grunted. Red faced and struggling, they lifted Robbie and lowered him to the water, not two feet away.

Upon Robbie’s connection to the water, he somehow woke up and he began to thrash from the warm water that felt so cold against him. Both Ellen and Dean maintained a hold that grew harder with each thrash Robbie did.

“Dean, this is impossible. How are we going to keep him in here?”

“I’ll hold him. You wipe down.”

Ellen let go of her hold. “I have a better idea. He has to stay in there right?” She stood to her feet and hurriedly took off her shirt.

“El, what are you doing?”

Ellen stepped into the tub and sat down. She spread out her legs, one to each side of Robbie and with Dean’s help they lowered him, back first, onto Ellen.

“You have him?”

“Yes.” Ellen nodded when Robbie stopped convulsing and he only trembled. Her arms wrapped tightly around him as his head rested back to just under her chin. “I have him now. Hand me the cloth.”

Dean did. And he watched Ellen proceed to carefully wipe him down. “El.”

“I think he’s calmed down now, Dean. We’re fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. Go clean up his room and change the sheets so it’s fresh when we put him back in bed. I just want to hold him and help him.”

“All right.” Dean stepped back. “But call me if you need me. Remember, just because he’s calm now doesn’t mean he won’t start again.”

“I know. Go.” She waited for Dean to leave and Ellen picked up the wash cloth, drenched it, and wrung it out letting the stream pour across Robbie’s chest. Once Dean was gone, Ellen held Robbie tighter. “Fight, Robbie. You fight. Please.”

“El.” He weakly said her name.

“I’m right here.” Ellen pressed Robbie’s face close to her own. “Just hold on.” She softly kissed Robbie on the cheek. The moment she did so, she felt an aching growing in her throat that tightened up the words she tried to get out. “Hold on.”

Feeling the slight shake of his body, the rumbling of his chest, and his shallow breathing, Ellen clung to him even more. She pulled his back into her and held his whole body with all of hers. “Just hold on and beat this thing, Robbie.” Seeing Robbie’s hand reach out for something that wasn’t there and hearing the mumbling of words that made no sense, Ellen planted her cheek to his. “I’ll help you if you need me to. Hold on.” Closing her eyes, she laid her lips to his face and tasted the saltiness of her own tears as they rolled down between the connection of her and him. Such a sadness filled her while she held Robbie, such a hurt. Though she longed to give Robbie the strength she had, or the fortitude, she couldn’t. At that moment, the strength would have to wait. She had none left herself. All Ellen could do was hold him tightly, her body trembling with his, and cry.

<><><><>

“I know you’re doing all that you can for my son, Dean. Just let him know that we love him very much.”

“I will, Joe.”

The final words of Dean’s conversation with Joe stayed with him as he gathered the things he would take back into the bathroom with him. Having to call Joe and tell him was so hard for Dean. How do you tell a father that his son had unexpectedly taken such a turn for the worse, that it made even Dean’s head spin? The virus had turned more violent than any of the reports of the illness Robbie had sent.

Dean heard no sounds as he approached the bathroom door. No splashing, no movement. It was almost too quiet and that scared Dean.

He held out a robe and laid it on the commode for Ellen who turned her head away from him when he walked in. She stared at the wall, her cupped hand brought to her mouth. Grabbing two towels, Dean set them on the floor, then knelt upon another at the tub’s side. He pulled his stethoscope from around his neck and listened to Robbie’s chest.

Ellen sniffled then wiped her hand across her face. She spoke nasally, almost as if her voice had disappeared somewhere deep in her. “I’m holding him and he’s not moving. I’m so afraid. I think I feel him breathe. I think I feel a pulse but he’s not moving. I’m so afraid what I feel is my imagination that I’m not feeling a heartbeat or a breath. Please tell me, Dean. Please tell me he’s still alive.”

Slowly Dean lowered the stethoscope and set it on the floor. He swallowed, “Barely.”

Ellen whimpered and held Robbie again.

“El.” Dean grabbed the blood pressure cuff and wrapped it around his arm. “I can tell his fever is down some. It's enough to get him out of the tub. We have to get him out.” He began to take his pressure.

Ellen listened to the ripping Velcro sound. “How low is it?”

“Too low.”

“He’s dying on me, Dean. He’s dying.” Ellen let out a single sob then with tightly closed eyes, she buried her head into Robbie’s.

Dean listened to Ellen cry like he hadn’t heard her do in so long. “El.” He laid his hand on her shoulder. “Strength. You have to be strong.”

“I can’t.”

“Bullshit. I watched a hundred pound woman help lift a man twice her weight and then support him. That’s strong. That’s not just coming from your body, that is coming from within you. Use that, feed on that, because we’re not done yet.” Dean slowly shook his head. “We are not done yet.”

A long sniffle from Ellen echoed in the quiet bathroom. She looked at Dean who stared at her. “Take hold of him, Dean. We’ll get him back to bed.”

Dean slipped his hands under Robbie’s arms and pulled his limp body forward so Ellen could get out. As the splash of the water occurred when Ellen stood up, Dean whispered to Robbie as he held him. “Don’t give up on us yet, Robbie, not yet.”

<><><><>

Supporting Robbie up in bed, Dean watched Ellen’s trembling hands as she worked placing in the catheter of the intravenous into Robbie's arm that dangled down to let gravity fill his weakened veins with blood to fill them enough to take the IV. “You all right?”

“Can you reach to hold up my sleeve?”

“Yeah.” Dean moved his hand down to hold back the robe that reached her fingers.

“I have it.” Ellen laid a piece of tape across the catheter then connected the tubing from the bag that hung from the stand at his bedside.

“Here, you want to hold him while I administer the meds.”

“What are you giving him?” She walked over to the bed, slipping behind Robbie in a synchronized move with Dean as he slid out the other side. “Are his lungs clear enough for him to lay down yet?”

“Somewhat.” Dean grabbed the first syringe he had prepared.

“Dean? The rabbits you injected with this so called antidote...how are they?”

Dean only raised his eyes.

“Dean, come on.”

“The second died twenty minutes ago.”

Ellen gasped. “But they weren’t even close to that stage of the virus.”

“I know. I’m still standing on the premises that the virus isn’t killing them. Once again, the symptoms did. For some reason this antiserum is magnifying or speeding up the process. That’s why I’m giving Robbie all we have. I’m just dumping it in him.”

“What?” She watched him inject the first syringe in.

“Well, from what I could come up with, our A-17 actually worked with the antidote to speed up its reaction. I’ve given it to the third rabbit and he’s still hanging in there. I’m giving it to Robbie now. We need both to work faster, so I’m giving him an epinephrine syntheses to speed up the reaction and it will also open his bronchi for his breathing. I’m also giving him steroid equivalent to strengthen his lungs.” Dean picked up another syringe. “And a fever reducer at a higher dose.”

“All those together?”

“El, it’s our best chance. Fight it with everything all at once.”

Ellen sniffled again and ran the back of her hand under her nose. “I’m sorry to doubt you. I’m just upset.”

“I know.” Dean tossed out the last syringe. “Why don’t you lay him back down again. There should be enough pillows there and we’ll keep checking on him.”

Kissing Robbie softly on the cheek, then running her hand over his wet hair, Ellen slowly began to slide out from behind him. She tried to keep the transition from her to the pillow smooth and without his notice.

Robbie’s eyes opened slightly. “El,” he called out.

“I’m right here, Robbie.” She spoke softly, still sliding out completely as she rested him back on his pillows.

His hand blindly reached out to the voice he heard. Robbie felt the softness of the robe she wore as his hand landed on the belt.

She wanted Robbie to know she was there so Ellen hesitated before she stood and got out of the bed completely. She figured she would stay there until he fell back to sleep and stopped stirring, then she would take her place in the chair next to him.

Robbie moaned barely audibly, a painful moan and his other arm came to her as he rolled on his side. He slipped his hand, almost in a search, across her stomach and gripped tightly to her waist. With all of his strength he raised his head, eyes closed, and dropped it weakly onto her chest, feeling his face against her skin as he pulled at her, moving closer. “Thank you.”

Ellen looked up to Dean, so lost and confused and with eyes that conveyed her fears. She brought her hands to Robbie’s head, slowly brushing her chin against the top of his wet hair.

Stepping to them, Dean adjusted the pillows under Robbie. He brought the covers up over him and grazed his hand over Ellen’s. “I’ll check back.” He received a closed eye nod in response and he walked to the door. He paused before leaving to take one more look back at Robbie who clung to Ellen like a sick, lost child. Clinging in hopes of something. Clinging maybe in fear. Dean realized, for as much as Robbie needed the medication, Robbie needed Ellen as well.

There was something unnerving about calling George at that time in the day. Anyone could walk in. But seeing how John Matoose hadn’t had contact with him in two days, he had to call, like George wanted, within a certain time frame. It couldn’t be before a certain time of the morning. George was out and about running things on his side of the world. And if it was later, he could be napping and George hated to have his naps disturbed. “As near as I can figure George, Frank went out to get Ellen and Dean.”

“At that particular moment he went out at exactly the same time our CME’s hit?”

“The way I got the story was Henry broke down and told Frank.”

“What about what you heard over the radio?” George asked. “You said it sounded like they knew Robbie was in danger.”

“I asked about that,” John continued. “Dan said that they were concerned about Dean and Ellen.” He leaned back further in his chair in the communications room, his index finger trailed around the rim of his mug.

“Dean and Ellen. What the hell were they up to? If I was the leader, their asses would have just stayed out there. It’s Ellen, the little trouble maker. I hate that bitch.” George sounded so angry in his telephone conversation.

“Yeah, well, join the club. To make matter worse, her and Jenny have been speaking lately.”

“Stop it. Stop it now. The last thing you want is for that impressionable wife of yours to get Ellen attitude.” George let out a loud huff over the line. “All right, how’s Robbie?”

“I haven’t heard, but I don’t think he’s good, not by Frank’s demeanor this morning. They have him in the mobile lab.”

“Keep me posted. I had a secondary plan of action in case we failed. If Robbie pulls through, we’ll get him. When is that run of Cole’s coming up? The second plan hinges on that.”

“It’s been pushed back another week or so. Why is that so important?”