Ma?l awoke in cold sweat as the car… swayed?

  He smiled faintly at Kaori, who returned the smile.

  “Good morning, sunshine.”

  “Where are—Oh, is that the ferry?”

  “Yes. Are you feeling any better?” she seemed concerned.

  He paused for a bit, assessing his condition. His head was killing him. That’ll teach me to drink that much, he mused.

  “Better.” he lied with a halfhearted smile.

  “We got the confirmation from Airbnb. The keys are inside a box with a code. The owner is not even in Thailand!”

  “That’s perfect.”

  The place wasn’t hard to find, and it looked exactly as it did in the photos: a quaint western-style house in the middle of the jungle, with a cozy, neatly trimmed garden and a decently-sized swimming pool overlooking the sea.

  Ma?l was limping heavily.

  That’s better? Kaori thought as she watched him hobble across the yard. She closed the door behind them and dragged him to the sofa. He didn’t resist as she made him lay down. She placed her hand on his forehead.

  He was burning with fever.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “It’s fine. I just need to sleep it off.”

  “You’ve slept 8 hours already and it doesn’t look fine to me. What’s going on. Any other symptoms beside the fever?”

  “Are you a doctor now?” He tried a smile, but it was unconvincing.

  “No, but we can at least check online for a diagnostic. I need to know if I have to burn your body or if I can just bury it in the garden.”

  “My bad, you sound like a doctor now.” He paused. “I have a headache—not a big one, and there’s this pain in my leg.”

  Kaori looked at the legs. There was a dark spot on his brand new pants. She placed her hand on it and he winced. The skin was burning hot. She untied his belt and began to remove his trousers.

  “I always thought that if we played doctor, I’d be the doctor.” He quipped, wincing as she pulled on the pants. They were stuck mid-thigh and came free with a small splutter of blood.

  Kaori looked in shock as she unveiled the knife wound in his thigh. The whole area was red and burning hot. He looked at it.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “When were you going to tell me you’d been stabbed!”

  “Sorry. Forgot about that.”

  “You—What! We have to get you to the hospital, now!”

  Ma?l leaned closer and inspected the wound. It was a couple inches wide, but not very deep. The bright red swelling however was concerning: it was infected.

  “We can’t, there are no more ferries, and showing up at an hospital could get us caught.”

  “But—”

  “It’s not that bad, I’ve had worse. Can you check if we have a med kit? It’d be in the bathroom or in the kitchen, usually.”

  She returned a minute later with a bulky first-aid kit and a few towels. They had lucked out, for it included a large bottle of alcohol and several rolls of gauze.

  “We need to clean the wound thoroughly. Are you up for it?” Ma?l asked.

  “It’s not like we have a choice.” she shoved a small towel in his mouth. “Bite on this.”

  Ma?l removed the gag and chuckled. “That’s not a movie. It’s just a bit of—Ouch!”

  She poured alcohol straight into the wound and began to rub out the blood and grime from it.

  Without the dried blood, the wound looked considerably better. At least it wasn’t purulent.

  “Check the kitchen for honey, honey.” Ma?l quipped weakly.

  “What for?”

  “For the wound. It’s an old school battlefield remedy the Greeks used. Works really well. Also see if there are needles and thread in the laundry room?”

  “You want me to stitch you up? I’m no surgeon.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll do it. It’s no big deal.” he said with a confidence he didn’t feel. This would hurt, but it had to be done.

  She returned not long after with a pot of honey, a sewing kit and a spindle of pink thread. He dunked the sewing kit in a glass of alcohol, then with a wince, he began to coat the wound with honey.

  “Are you sure this isn’t dangerous.”

  “It’s the best we can do for now. Honey is sterile and it kills bacteria. It outperforms most modern wound dressing creams. If I’d been smart, I’d have done it this morning.”

  He grabbed the needle and the thread.

  “I’ll do it,” she said, taking the needle off his hands. “No offense but I bet your needlework looks lame.” She rinsed her hands with alcohol and pinched the wound close.

  Ma?l gave a tired grin. He wanted to protest, but in truth, he was relieved. Piercing your own skin was really hard. He shoved the rolled up towel back in his mouth, clenching his teeth into the fabric. The feeling of the needle piercing the already infected flesh was agonizing, but he didn’t move and allowed her to dig the needle deep into the skin. The pain was brutal, a lot worse than that of the initial stabbing. Inflammation and no adrenaline meant his entire attention was focused on it.

  No matter, he couldn’t wimp out in front of Kaori! He tried to concentrate on his breathing, pulling air in through his nose. Her hand was sure and her needlework regular. A short time later, the wound was little more than a thin swollen red line. She cleaned everything once again with alcohol and he spread another layer of honey before wrapping his thigh up in gauze.

  She gave him a light tap. “There, all good. Come.” She draped his arm over her shoulder and helped him up. His body was still burning up and she could feel the heat as if she was leaning against a radiator. Keeping him upright was a struggle. For all his assurances, he was in a bad way. Together, they ambled to the bedroom where she tucked him in.

  “Thank you.” Ma?l murmured.