Camp camp short stories!

In and out...(part 4)

Daniel didn't feel the sickness coming on, didn't feel it creeping up on him. His brain never gave him any signs, any strange weakness in his legs or wads of wool between his ears. Instead, he felt it suddenly, all at once, in perhaps the most inconvenient place possible.

It was the day after the rain. Daniel had returned to the camp in the afternoon, notepad in hand and binoculars around his neck. Everything had seemed alright, had seemed normal. His walk to camp had been brisk and sure. The river, swollen from the rain, had rushed beside him, away, behind. Daniel's light blue hospital gown was dry, his hair feeling cleaner than it had in days. Everything had seemed fine, just fine.

He was fine, and then he was not. His lungs constricted, tightened, his throat trying to close as Daniel coughed. He coughed and coughed, hacking and retching, thick strings of mucus making their way into his mouth and out, flying away in drops and clumps. Daniel doubled over, then fell, feeling the familiar sensation of sharp pain as his bare skin met sharp rocks. His chest felt heavy. Something was sitting on his chest. Something was sitting on him, except when he looked, there was nothing there.

Muscles spasmed as Daniel shakily got to his hands and knees, whole body coughing as his lungs violently expelled air. His body went hot, then cold, his nose began to bleed. The world spun around him, the sky blurring into the ground. Daniel could not tell up from down. He did not know where he was. Where was he going again? What was he doing?

His thoughts moved sluggishly, distracted by the mucus in his throat, the pain in his muscles, the blood dripping from both nostrils. He was so, so tired, and the ground was so very soft. He thought he might lie there and take a quick nap, but then he heard David's voice, getting closer, and remembered where he was.

David must have heard his coughing, and was coming to investigate.

Panicked, Daniel forced himself to rise, ignoring the all-encompassing exhaustion digging deep into every cavern of his being, every organ, every bone and joint. He could not be found. He wasn't quite sure why at the moment — couldn't quite remember what the threat was — but he knew that he should not be found. So he ran.

He ran, binoculars bouncing painfully against his collarbones, feet falling heavily on the forest floor. Light filtered through the leaves, casting everything in a cool green glow. In, out, in out, in, out. Daniel breathed, sharp and quick, the fear of discovery driving him on just as surely as a whip does a team of oxen. Soft dirt, hard rocks, sharp thorns, thick brush. On and on he ran, refusing to acknowledge the pain in his legs or the tearing of his already-torn up hospital gown. His hair caught in low-hanging branches and he kept on, strands ripping from his scalp as the branches held on greedily.

Then, the river. He broke through the treeline and made his way down its rocky sides. Loose stones clattered down, splashing into the water. He slipped and slid until he stood at the very edge of the river. Not bothering to look back, Daniel dove in, knowing the current would carry him faster than his legs.

The river ran swifter than he had anticipated, and it was harder to keep his head above water than was preferable. Still, he had no choice — rather, he had made his choice and had to make do. While the river usually ran at a brisk trot, it was now thundering along as on a racetrack, hurtling towards the finish line with reckless abandon. And Daniel was trapped beneath its many legs, stomping and pounding all around, battering against his head, his arms, his legs, his chest.

Everything hurt, and he could see nothing.

By some stroke of luck, the river spat him out on a bank not too far from the route back to his run-down cabin. He coughed and sputtered, shivering despite the heat of day. His nose was still bleeding, and some new cuts and scrapes had decided to join in as well. Daniel caught a glimpse of himself in a puddle on a low, flat rock and turned away, disgusted. He did not want to see himself like this. He did not want anyone to see him like this.