CHAPTER SIX HUNDRED-TEN
Nelson landed in yet another Spanish site. A wave of exhaustion came over him. He collapsed on the grass and sucked in a breath. He was exhausted and could feel the sickness beginning to rise inside of him. He rolled on his side and vomited until his stomach was heaving. He passed out.
Sometime later — a minute? Two days? — Alex Hargreaves put her hand on his forehead.
“He’s burning up,” Alex said.
“I’ll take him,” a foreign voice that sounded like Bestat if she were speaking through a cardboard tube. “Stay here. Tell the others. We’ll be back.”
Nelson felt as if he’d been picked up by… His mind believed that he was flying on the large eagles like Sam and Frodo.
“I’m not done. I’m not done. I’m not done,” Nelson tried to reason with the enormous eagle.
“Sleep now,” the enormous eagle demanded.
And he did.
The next sound he heard was Blane talking to a woman. His eyes fluttered open.
“Sick,” Nelson whispered.
No one paid any attention to him. He felt a small body climb up onto him. He opened his eyes to see Blane and Heather’s son Mack standing on the table he was lying on.
“Sick,” Nelson said.
The child nodded. The child held out his hand, and his brother climbed up onto the table. A toddler, Wyn climbed up Nelson’s chest so that his head lay against Nelson’s heart. Mack climbed between Nelson’s legs.
Nelson fell into his first peaceful sleep since this entire ridiculous escapade had started. He woke when Wyn was crying. He felt the warm body of the toddler being lifted off him.
“But Dad!” Mack said. “He needs our help!”
“And you’ve helped,” Blane said. “He needs some adult help.”
“Can I stay?” Mack bargained. “I won’t get in the way.”
“No, son,” Blane said.
“But he can’t eat an apple!!” Mack screamed at Blane.
“Oh honey, you have the best heart,” Blane said, picking up his weeping and screaming son. To someone Nelson couldn’t see, he said, “I’ll be right back.”
“Of course,” a Russian accented voice said. “I will start.”
“Please do,” Blane said.
Nelson heard Blane carry a screaming Mack away from the room.
“Hello, Guy Semaines,” the Russian voice said. “We have met before but you likely don’t remember me.”
“Jill’s father,” Nelson mumbled.
“Yes, something like that,” the woman laughed. “I am Angjelika. My family comes from a long line of healers from…”
“Russia,” Nelson mumbled. “Jill…”
“I’m right here,” Jill said. She grabbed his shoulder. “We’re waiting for Mike and my sister, Megan.”
“Don’t trouble…” Nelson said.
“Friends help friends do their most impossible tasks,” Jill said. “We are your friend, your human family. We are here to help you do what is nearly impossible.”
Denver Cereal continues tomorrow…
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