The Swiss Family RobinZOM (Book 4) (5 page)

Jack started awake. He peered around at his surroundings, for a moment losing track of where he was. His memory fell into place. He looked out the porthole at the bright sunshine filtering through the windows. Francis lay in the bed next to him.

“Francis?” Jack said. “It’s time to wake up. Francis?”

He poked his younger brother in the ribs. He didn’t respond. He poked him again, this time on the cheek. Jack frowned and peered at the tips of his fingers. They were wet. He turned Francis’s head toward him. His skin was bumpy with beads of sweat, and a vibrant red rash wound up either side of his neck and behind his ears. He was shaking.

“Francis?” Jack said, panic entering his voice. “Francis?”

He poked his brother again, but he still didn’t wake.

Jack pressed his fingers to Francis’s throat. There was a pulse – faint, but it was there. Jack got up and ran outside, leaning against the railing. Fritz and Ernest were pacing up and down in the clearing below.

“Guys!” Jack said. “Francis is like Mother! He’s fallen asleep!”

Francis’s breaths were weak and shallow, his chest hardly moving.

“We’re dropping like flies,” Fritz said. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Ernest said. “Only Father had any clue. And now he’s unconscious too.”

“Didn’t he say anything to you before he fell asleep?” Jack said.

“He fell unconscious,” Fritz said. “He didn’t fall asleep.”

“Whatever,” Jack said. “Did he say anything?”

“Yes,” Ernest said. “But it doesn’t make any sense.”

“What did he say?” Jack said.

“Something about green? Or a stripe?” Ernest said. “I don’t know. I think he was in the midst of his fever when he said it.”

“We’ve been through too much to be wiped out by something we can’t even see!” Fritz said.

“You mean, something like the virus?” Ernest said. “It’s wiped out the rest of the world. No reason why something similar shouldn’t wipe us out too.”

“Listen to Descartes over here,” Fritz said. “Can you try not to be morbid for one second?”

“Let’s think about this logically,” Ernest said. “Father didn’t go anywhere near the hat. How can he have caught something from it?”

Fritz shook his head.

“No, he did go near it,” he said. “He studied it to see if there was anything Mother might have an allergy to.”

Ernest looked toward the gift table and found the hat was no longer there.

“But Francis didn’t go near it,” Ernest said. “How do you explain that?”

“The hat was on his bed when I went upstairs earlier to bring your gift down,” Fritz said. “Then he took a nap. Maybe that was what caused it.”

“Perfect,” Ernest said, throwing his hands up. “Where’s the hat now?”

“I threw it out the window when we left Mother and Father alone,” Fritz said.

“Then how come I haven’t succumbed to it yet?” Ernest said. “I was the one who spent hours making it. How come I’m still here?”

“Maybe you’re immune,” Fritz said.

“I doubt it,” Ernest said. “I’ve never been immune to anything my whole life.”

“Except seasickness,” Fritz said.

“That’s not really immunity,” Ernest said. “But maybe it’s not the hat at all, but the virus. Maybe it got into something we missed when we rebuilt the treehouse? Maybe it got into our water supply somehow? Or we ingested it some other way?”

Ernest wiped the back of his hand across his forehead.

“Jack, go get a cup of water for Francis, please,” he said.

Jack ran out of Robin’s Nest. Ernest took a seat on a bed.

“You don’t look so hot,” Fritz said.

“I never get tired of you telling me that,” Ernest said.

Ernest’s face was pallid and sallow.

“Ernest, why did you send Jack after a glass of water?” Fritz said.

“So as not to frighten him,” Ernest said. “I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.”

“There’s a switch,” Fritz said.

“I’m feeling a bit… lightheaded,” Ernest said.

When Ernest looked up, Fritz saw he had a thick layer of sweat on his forehead.

“You’d better lie down,” Fritz said.

“Fritz,” Ernest said, looking at him through his bloodshot eyes and pointing a shaking finger at Fritz’s skin.

Fritz felt at his forehead.

“This is just sweat,” Fritz said, getting to his feet. “It doesn’t mean anything. Whoa.”

He swayed unsteadily and braced himself on a chest of drawers.

“Well, this is certainly good news,” Fritz said. “We’d best get into our beds while we can.”

Fritz lay down.

“Is this it?” Ernest said. “Is this the end of the Robinson family?”

“You’re forgetting one thing,” Fritz said.

“What’s that?” Ernest said.

“We’ve still got Jack to take care of us,” Fritz said.

The two eldest brothers shared a look, smiled and hacked wheezing laughs, and then returned to looking up at the ceiling with concerned expressions.

Jack came running into the room carrying a cup of water.

“Ernest? Fritz?” Jack said. “What are you doing?”

“We’re going to fall unconscious any second,” Ernest said, slightly slurring his words.

“No,” Jack said. “You can’t.”

“We can,” Fritz said.

“And we most certainly will,” Ernest said.

“No,” Jack said. “Please. Don’t.”

“Unfortunately we don’t have much choice,” Fritz said.

“I’m scared,” Jack said, voice quavering.

“We’re all scared,” Fritz said. “You just try to keep us all alive for as long as you can.”

“I’m sorry for putting you in this position, Jack,” Ernest said.

“You’re my older brother,” Jack said. “You’re supposed to put me in repulsive positions.”

“I see my vocabulary has rubbed off on you,” Ernest said. “If not my good looks.”

Ernest and Fritz’s heads lolled back onto their mattresses, eyes rolling into their heads.

“Ernest?” Jack said. “Fritz?”

The wind howled and made the treehouse groan. Jack curled up into a ball and hugged his knees.

He was alone.

Each of the school girls had her skirt hitched up with safety pins to expose as much thigh as possible without getting cautioned by the school authorities. The boys had their shirts untucked, ties hanging loose.

Despite Jack’s shorter stature he powered ahead of Fritz and Ernest, almost at a run.

“He’s keen today,” Fritz said. “Is there a book burning ceremony I don’t know about?”

“I don’t know…” Ernest said, bending back over his book. “Any breakthroughs on the Beauty front?”

“No, not yet,” Fritz said. “It’s only a matter of time though. Ready for your quiz thing tonight?”

“I’m quietly confident,” Ernest said.

“Quietly?” Fritz said. “Doesn’t sound like a Robinson.”

“All right, I’m going to wipe the floor with the other team,” Ernest said.

“That’s more like it,” Fritz said.

“Fritz!” a voice called out. “Hey! Fritz!”

A tall boy came jogging over. Fritz turned to his brother.

“Catch you later,” he said. “Good luck with your quiz thing.”

“Thanks,” Ernest said, heading toward the main school building.

Frederick sidled up to Fritz. They were similar in height and of shoulder, one of the few who could look Fritz in the eye and give him anywhere near a challenge in strength sports.

“Have you seen Beauty
today?” Frederick said. “She’s looking especially stunning.”

“Where is she?” Fritz said.

Frederick pointed toward a pack of girls leaning against a wall. Some smoked with the self-conscious air of those believing they were constantly being watched, as if the world revolved around them. The most attractive girl had long blonde hair and blue eyes that caught the light like sapphires. Beauty lived up to her name.

Fritz leaned against the railing and tried to appear nonchalant as he looked over at her. She wasn’t looking at him. Fritz frowned.

“So, what’s the plan for getting her attention today?” Frederick said. “Don’t tell me you’re going to try wearing tight-fitting clothes again.”

“It got her attention, didn’t it?” Fritz said.

“Yes. Hers and everyone else’s,” Frederick said, grimacing. “You could have at least have worn some underwear.”

“I don’t like restrictions,” Fritz said.

“Yes, well, the rest of us would prefer it if you did with your nether regions,” Frederick said. “You know, sometimes you have to accept defeat and know when you’re beaten.”

“I’m a Robinson,” Fritz said. “We don’t know the meaning of defeat.”

“Defeat: ‘To overcome in a contest, election, battle, etc. Prevail over. Vanquish,’ ” Frederick said. “The value of being the proud owner of a dictionary. But you have at least experienced defeat. There was that time Ulrike said no when you asked her to the dance.”

“That was an isolated incident,” Fritz said.

“Or the time Heike called you an idiot-”

“Isolated incidents,” Fritz said.

“Can they be isolated if there are more than one of them?” Frederick said.

“Anyway, how can I truly fail?” Fritz said. “I’ve got the greatest wingman in the world.”

Frederick’s heart swelled.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” he said. Then he frowned. “Wait. A wingman is someone you use to make yourself look better by comparison, isn’t it?”

“That’s right,” Fritz said. “But only
marginally
so, otherwise there’s no better looker. It’s just crap plus one.”

“And I’m the crap,” Frederick said.

“I’m only plus one,” Fritz said.

“Great,” Frederick said. “For a minute there I thought you were insulting me.”

Fritz looked over at Beauty conversing with her friends.

“Fritz,” Frederick said, “here’s a new idea on how to woo Beauty: Why don’t you just ask her out?”

“I will,” Fritz said. “But first I need to set the right mood. The ambiance as we romantics like to call it.”

“In other words you want to make sure she’s going to say yes before you actually ask her,” Frederick said.

“That’s right,” Fritz said.

A pair of pretty girls walked past. They smiled shyly at Fritz and said, “Hello, Fritz.”

“Hi,” Fritz said without looking at them.

The girls giggled and headed inside. Frederick shook his head.

“In the valley of the blind,” he said. “Why don’t you try a different girl? One who isn’t such a challenge?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Fritz said. “Anything worth doing is never easy.”

“I beg to differ,” Frederick said. “They’re often the best things to do, precisely because they come so easily. Tell me again, why is it so important that you end up with this girl?”

“Because a man must have something to occupy his time,” Fritz said.

“But you could have any of these other girls you want!” Frederick said. “Even the ones with boyfriends already! They’d happily dump them for you!”

“Then they’re no challenge,” Fritz said.

Frederick shook his head.

“You and your challenges,” he said. “What you don’t realise is Beauty might be a bigger challenge than you thought.”

Fritz frowned.

“What do you mean?” he said.

“I didn’t want to tell you this, but I heard she’s got the hots for someone else,” Frederick said.

“Who?” Fritz said.

“Alexander,” Frederick said.

“Alexander?” Fritz said. “Alexander who?”

Just then Alexander
Bauer
strutted up the path toward the school’s front entrance. He walked with his lanky cousin Dieter at his side. Beauty watched him as he passed, self-consciously tucking a strand
of blonde hair behind her ear.

Fritz’s eyes narrowed.

“So,” he said. “Finally, a worthy opponent.”

The bell rang.

“Time for classes,” Frederick said, gathering his things. “I think chasing after Beauty is a mistake, just for the record.”

“We’re teenagers,” Fritz said. “We’re supposed to make mistakes.”

“Are they mistakes if we know we’re making them?” Frederick said.

“Let’s leave that up to the philosophers to argue over, shall we?” Fritz said.

“What’s the plan again?” Frederick said.

Fritz bent down, performing stretches.

“I’m going to trounce the guy the girl fancies,” he said, “and when she sees how superior I am she’s going to come after me like a starving sumo after a bowl of rice.”

Alexander stepped forward, picked up a javelin and threw it. It landed a yard farther than the other javelins that stuck up out of the ground like a porcupine’s quills. Alexander’s team clapped, whooping. Fritz rolled his eyes.

Then Alexander’s lanky cousin Dieter took to the plate. He picked up a javelin and threw it without preamble. It sailed pathetically through the air and landed short of the other javelins.

Fritz folded his arms, exposing his large muscles. The coach waved Fritz over. His turn.

“Is she looking?” Fritz said to Frederick.

Frederick looked up at the classrooms behind them. Beauty was in Physics on the second floor. She sat by the window, looking down at the field.

“Yes,” he said.

“Excellent,” Fritz said.

He spat into his hands and rubbed them together. He picked up a javelin and ran forward, brought his arm back and threw it, his form perfect. The javelin flew through the air and landed several yards farther than Alexander’s. Fritz came back and high-fived Frederick. Fritz risked a look up at the classroom. Beauty was no longer looking down at the field.

“What’s up with this broad?” Fritz grumbled.