Back at the cottage.
The morning air is heavy with humidity, the overcast sky pressing down on the island. The tide is fully out, exposing the slick rocks of the tide pools and the distant sandbars. Inside the cottage, the smell of salt and drying sea beet lingers in the air as the pair prepares for the day.
🌿 Jenny18:49
Kevin, can you pass me the antiseptic?
check ankle for spreading redness or heat
💭 peek at the thought
The infection's spreading again—or maybe it's just angry. I need to check the redness before it gets worse.
poolside/laguna-xs-2.1
🔧 Kevin18:49
Bottle's empty. Used the last on your ankle yesterday. Kit's got gauze and tape only.
walk to the kitchen shelf, pull down the first aid kit, open it and check contents
💭 peek at the thought
She's asking for antiseptic but the bottle's empty — discarded it yesterday after the last dressing change. Need to check what's actually in the first aid kit now. Just gauze left, maybe tape. Her ankle's been hot to touch the last two checks. If the streaks have moved past the knee, oral antibiotics won't be enough. But we don't have IV anything. Just the doxycycline course from the mainland. She's on day three of seven. Have to trust it's working.
nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b
🌿 Jenny18:52
(quietly) Right. I forgot.
lean back against the porch wall and examine the skin around the swelling
💭 peek at the thought
Of course it's empty. I can't believe I didn't realize it was that low. I'm running on fumes and hunger, and my leg feels like it's pulsing.
google/gemma-4-31b-it
🔧 Kevin18:52
Let me see.
crouch beside her, gently lift her ankle onto my knee, peel back the bandage to examine the wound and track any red streaks up the calf
💭 peek at the thought
She forgot. That's not like her — she tracks every dose, every change. The quiet scares me more than complaints would. She's leaning back like it takes effort to hold herself up. Need to look at that ankle myself. See if the red lines have crept higher since 0300. If they've passed the knee, the doxycycline isn't cutting it. But we're four days from the supply boat, two from the mainland by dinghy in good weather. Barometer's holding at 986. Weather's not good.
nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b
🌿 Jenny18:54
Is it... is it moving?
hold breath and stare at his face for the answer
💭 peek at the thought
His hands are steady, but he's too close. I can feel the heat coming off the skin. Please don't let there be streaks.
google/gemma-4-31b-it
🔧 Kevin18:54
It's moved. Three centimeters past yesterday's mark. Not at the knee. Skin's hot. You've got a fever.
pull the ballpoint pen from my pocket, mark the new leading edge of the red streak on her skin, rewrap the bandage clean and not too tight
💭 peek at the thought
The red line's faint but distinct — tracking up the inside of her calf, maybe three centimeters past where I marked it with the ballpoint pen yesterday. Not to the knee yet. But the skin's hot, tight, shiny. She's running a low fever; I can feel the heat radiating off her shin. The doxycycline should've slowed this by now. If it hasn't reached the knee, we've got time. But "time" here means the supply boat in four days, or the dinghy crossing in two if the barometer holds and the Yanmar doesn't shake itself apart. I don't like the options.
nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b
🌿 Jenny18:59
Jenny — look down at the pen mark on my skin and trace the line with my finger
💭 peek at the thought
Three centimeters. It's winning. If it hits the knee, I'm not going able to walk to the flats, and if I can't walk, the seeds stay in the tin forever. everSAY: (my voice thin) Four days until the boat.
google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it
🔧 Kevin18:59
Next dose in two hours. I'll wake you.
stand, walk to the kitchen, pull the doxycycline blister pack from the shelf, count remaining pills, set a glass of rainwater on the porch rail beside her
💭 peek at the thought
She's tracing the line like she's measuring it herself, checking my work. Her finger's steady but her knuckles are white. She knows what this means — if it hits the femoral nodes, she'll go septic fast. No evac. No IV. Just the rest of the doxycycline and hope. She's not asking anymore. That's the part that gets me.
nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b
🌿 Jenny19:00
Don't let me sleep yet.
reach for the notebook and try to sketch the pattern of the red line
💭 peek at the thought
Two hours. I have to stay awake to see if the fever breaks. My head is already heavy, and the salt air feels like lead.
google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it
🔧 Kevin19:03
Eat something first. Corned beef on the table. Pills need food.
sit on the porch step beside her, tear off a piece of the hardtack biscuit from the crate, hold it out to her
💭 peek at the thought
She wants to document it. That's her — record the thing that might kill her like it's a transect. Salt glands on sea beet. Red lines on her own leg. Same focus. Her hands are shaking a little, pencil skipping on the damp page. I should let her. It keeps her mind on something she can control. But she needs fluids, and the next dose needs food in her stomach or she'll vomit it back up. The corned beef tin's open from breakfast. Cold now. She ate three bites this morning.
nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b