by Julie Rowe
“I don’t know. It just seems excessive, and yet they look dehydrated. See how the eyes are sunken and the lips shriveled.”
“What does it mean?”
She tilted her head to one side and looked at body after body. “I don’t know.” Her voice had a hard edge to it.
Dr. Sophia Perry didn’t like it when she couldn’t understand a disease.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Dr. Perry?”
Sophia looked up to find Dr. Blairmore coming toward her. “Yes?”
“What are you doing?” he asked in a tone so accusatory she wanted to smack him. Idiot. She was doing her job whether he liked it or not.
“I’m doing the only kind of examination you’ll allow,” she said, not caring that she sounded snotty. She hoped she sounded snotty and completely out of patience. “A visual one. I’ve noted a few other symptoms that you failed to mention.”
He reared back at that. “You have?”
“Look at these people,” she ordered, pointing at the bodies. “Excessive sweating, yet there also signs of severe dehydration. Add those to the confusion and seizures and I’m comfortable narrowing down the pathogen to one that attacks the brain or CSF.”
He shrugged. “I would tend to agree with you. What does that get us?”
“Closer to the answer.” She forced herself to look at him the same way she looked at Max while trying to solve a problem, like he was part of the solution. “Please, talk to whoever is in charge of the camp. Explain that without a sample of brain tissue from one of the dead, I may not be able to identify the pathogen. Without that answer, no one else is going to come to help, and hundreds more will die. I don’t have to have anything to do with the collection. Obviously, you’re the best person for that. You have a relationship with the people here.” Some of them, anyway. “I don’t.”
He squared his shoulders. “I’m glad you understand that, Dr. Perry. I’ve invested a lot of time and effort in the care of these people.” He glanced over at Len, who watched them all from a distance. Len, who was paid to protect him.
So, that’s what his problem was. He didn’t want to take second seat to a military doctor who looked young enough to be in med school. Maybe he was writing an article for a medical journal or was hoping to sell his story of sacrifice in the desert sands to one of the big US media outlets.
“I’m going to go back to my tent to eat and rest,” she said. “And wait for you to come to me with any news. I do have a sputum sample to test, but I doubt now that anything will come of it.”
Surrounded by dozens of dead bodies, Dr. Blairmore’s smile was out of place. “Thank you.”
She nodded at him, glanced at Connor and walked out. The farther she got from the moron the madder she got.
Connor caught up to her as they left the hospital tent and said in her ear, “Unclench your fists.”
She did it, but it was harder than it should have been. “I want to strangle that guy. Just a little.” She snorted. “No one would notice, right?”
Connor choked. “You look so innocent when you’re planning to murder someone. How do you do it?”
“Which part?”
He opened his mouth, then shut it again. “If you have to ask, there’s no point in discussing it further.”
“Discussing what?” asked a voice behind them.
They both turned, Connor thrusting Sophia behind him as he brought up his weapon.
Len held up his hands. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle anyone.”
“You shouldn’t sneak up on people with semi-automatic weapons in their hands,” she said.
Len put his hands down and Connor relaxed his stance, but he didn’t lower his weapon all the way to the ground.
“What do you want?” she asked the mercenary.
“To, ah, apologize for Blairmore’s shitty attitude. The guy is a little paranoid.”
“He’s a pompous ass,” Sophia told Len, then pasted on the fakest smile she could manage. “But then, what do I know, I’m a glorified cheerleader.” She turned on her heel and entered the lab tent.
She unpacked the two samples and wasted no time in noting them in her journal and preparing them for testing. She put both samples through the Sandwich, a portable analyzer that could determine most of the common pathogens, bacteria and viruses responsible for the majority of lethal diseases, and waited impatiently for the results.
Negative for pathogens.
How could both samples be negative? Something had caused the dead woman’s symptoms and killed her.
As she set up more tests, Sophia considered the puzzle of the disease. If it wasn’t bacteria or viruses detectable in blood, sputum and CSF, what was it?
The symptoms were fever, hallucinations, dehydration, confusion, seizures and death within twenty-four hours or so. A short time span for any micro-organism. None of it fit any disease she could think of.
Sophia went in search of Connor and found him still talking with Len. Both men turned to look at her.
She was struck by the differences in their expressions. At first glance, they looked the same, blank and businesslike, but while the corners of Connor’s eyes were crinkled with concern, Len’s were puffed up with a contempt he couldn’t hide.
Her body jerked with the need to back away.
“Sophia?” Connor asked. His voice saying her name gave her a little boost.
She didn’t want to discuss the results with Len standing right there, so she asked, “When is the first supply drop scheduled?”
“Dawn,” Connor answered. “Do you need something?”
“Yeah, I’ve started a list.”
“Did the spit you collected give you any answers?” Len asked.
“No. It tested negative for everything, but I’m not giving up. I’m going to collect more blood samples from people near death. It may be that the pathogen isn’t present in the blood until then.” She rounded her shoulders, slouching as if tired. “Would you mind telling Dr. Blairmore that I’d like more blood samples, approximately fifteen to twenty, taken from a cross-section of the population here, the closer to death the better? He can collect them if he prefers or I can do it. Just ask him to let me know how he wants to do this.”
“Can do.” Len punched Connor on the shoulder. “Later.”
As Len walked away, Sophia said to Connor, “Can you give me a hand with the Sandwich?”
“Sure.” They went into the tent.
Sophia stopped in front of the analyzer and crossed her arms over her chest. “How much do you trust Len?”
“Not as much as I used to. He’s pretty casual about a whole lot of people dying.”
She nodded, thinking hard. She couldn’t see a way around making a lot of people angry. “I need something.”
“Right, the list of supplies.”
“That’s the easy stuff. What I really need is not so easy.”
“Sophia,” he said in an aggrieved tone. “Just tell me.”
She sighed. “I need you steal me a dead body.”
* * *
Con struggled not to laugh at the I’m sure you’re going to say no expression on her face. “Most girls ask for flowers or chocolate.”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m not most girls, am I?”
“At least you know what you want.” She wanted him, she’d been very clear about that. “Speaking of which, could you be more specific about the condition and type of body?”
“An adult whose time of death is within six hours.” She frowned. “Is that too specific?”
“No, that’s good. Do you need an entire body?”
“Well, no. I need brain tissue specifically.”
“What if we went to where they’re piling the dead so you can grab a sample?”
<
br /> “That would work. I thought around the same time as the supply drop in the morning. People will be distracted.”
“Good idea.” He smiled at her. “Did you really want to ask for more supplies?”
“I suppose I should. Things the aid group could use. I’ll make the call and check in with Max at the same time.”
Con went out to check on Henry and Stalls. “Anyone paying too much attention to us?”
“No, sir,” Henry said. “That kid you hired has been back and forth a couple of times. We gave him some rice and water purification tablets for his family.”
“That’s no problem. Things might get a bit dicey, so when he comes back, give him some more food and tell him we’re not going to need him for a while. Anything else?”
“A couple of men from that mob that tried to get close earlier have been hanging around the perimeter, but they haven’t done anything threatening.”
“Make sure you change up the schedule of your perimeter patrols randomly, so they don’t decide to ambush us. If they start to make noise, don’t let them distract you too much from the rest of the perimeter.”
“Sir, Sergeant Smoke and Sergeant River are out on a reconnaissance of the camp. They said you’d know.”
“Very good.”
“They weren’t sure how long they would be.”
“Don’t worry about it. They’re keeping an eye on the refugees in the camp. We won’t see much of them unless things are about to blow up in our faces.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Sir, are gloves and masks enough to protect us from the disease?” Stalls asked.
“None of the health care workers have gotten sick, so yeah. Dr. Perry is ordering more safety gear, but that’s just a precaution.”
He saluted them and they saluted back.
Con went back inside the lab tent and found Sophia cleaning up and shutting things down. “Done?” he asked.
“For now. It’ll be a few hours until the morning supply drop. A good time to get some sleep.”
“Excellent.” He took up a position where he could see her and the entrance while she finished.
After a few seconds she looked up from what she was doing. “Are you waiting for me?”
“Where you go, I go.”
She glanced out at the silhouettes of the two marines guarding their small encampment. “Why do I feel like we’re outmanned and outgunned?”
“More men isn’t always the answer. If we come storming in with a couple of platoons, these people would have felt like they were in a police state. Since that’s what most of them are running from, we would’ve had a lot more trouble from the refugees.”
She scowled at him. “People are still dying. We may still have trouble.”
“It is what it is.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “All we can do is our jobs.” He dropped his arms and took a couple of steps closer to her. “Stay focused. I won’t leave you vulnerable for any length of time.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about,” she said, her voice vibrating with tension. “Every time you step in front of me to protect me, I want to scream. You’re the one in danger, not me.”
“It’s my job to stay close to you, to protect you.” He tried to catch her gaze, smile and ratchet her apprehension down. “Four sisters, remember? They’d kick my ass if I let you get hurt in any way.”
“Ha,” she said lifting her chin. “I bet you’ve been standing in front of them, taking the punch or the hard words, since you could walk.”
This woman’s intelligence stunned him and turned him on. “Who me? Never.”
“Oh yeah?” She narrowed her eyes and poked him in the chest. “Give me their phone numbers.”
Her request caught him off guard and he laughed with real humor for the first time in...months.
Since the explosion.
He’d come out of that injured in a way no one could see, no one could heal. He’d been filled with so much anger and self-destructive guilt he had actively looked for ways to get revenge or get killed, preferably both.
Sometime since he met Sophia, he’d changed. The reckless rage had been transformed into purpose. She had given him a new reason to be human again. Given him something to fight for, instead of against.
For the first time since the explosion, he felt a sliver of fear for himself. What if he died? Who would protect her then?
He gave her all four phone numbers, and made a mental note to talk to his sisters about Sophia. Tell them how special she was, how fragile she was.
As she added the numbers to her contact list, her shoulders came down a fraction.
She’d been stressed.
He should have noticed sooner, but with all the crap going on and all the dying happening a stone’s throw away, he’d misinterpreted her body language.
“I have one other question,” she said as she put her phone away.
“Shoot.”
“Where can I use the bathroom?”
“We’ve got a primitive camp toilet. You might have to squat.”
“Oh no, I have a thing that allows me to pee standing up. I just want a little privacy.”
“You...have a thing?” She had his brain going places he never wanted to visit.
She looked at his face and laughed. “Yeah, it’s a female urination device made out of medical-grade silicone.”
“Oh.” Thank God she’d explained that.
“Here,” she said, one hand reaching into a pocket. “I’ll show you.”
“No.” He flashed the palms of both hands at her. “Not necessary. I believe you.” He led her to their primitive toilet, then turned his back while she did her business.
Her grin was almost smug as she entered the low-slung sleeping tent in front of him.
Henry and Stalls were already asleep, their gear, packs and weapons taking in most of the available space.
Sophia gave them a long look, shook her head and turned around to crab-crawl out.
“Hey,” Con said in a whisper, following her. “Where are you going?”
“To sleep in the lab tent.”
“Is that safe?”
“I’m a little nervous about leaving all the equipment and samples unattended. Not that any of the samples have tested positive or anything.”
“That’s not an answer, and that’s not like you at all.”
She sighed and stopped walking.
He stopped a couple of feet away, expecting her to talk to him, but she moved in closer. Close enough that he could catch a hint of something coconut-scented. Her shampoo?
“Okay, I’m just going to say this and hope you don’t fall over laughing.” Her voice was low, tight and it quivered on the last word. She swallowed hard and said, “I can’t sleep in a space that small with a bunch of guys I don’t know. I looked at them in there and it seemed deliberate, you know? Them taking up so much space. There wasn’t room for me in there the way it is now, let alone you, too.”
She was right. Those two assholes could have organized themselves better. “It’s my fault,” he told her. “I should have made sure, when they sacked out, that they’d done so like professional soldiers rather than a couple of weekend warriors who don’t know any better.” He smiled at her surprised face. “So, let me ask again. Is sleeping in the other tent safe?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s go.”
The interior of the lab tent had a blind turn before it branched out in its starlike shape. It meant no one could just look in from the outside and see equipment, you had to go in and around before anything became visible.
Con and Sophia lay down on the floor in the center of the tent. It was warm enough out that a bedroll wasn’t strictly necessary. While sleeping in full gear was uncomfortable, it
shouldn’t have stopped him from falling asleep. Hell, he’d slept through gunfire and wicked turbulence.
Nope, what kept him awake was the soft snore of the woman who slept two feet away in front of him.
And the smell of coconut.
* * *
Stepping in sand is not soundless.
Con came awake all at once at hearing more than one person moving around within a few feet of the tent. Their movements and whispered words were hardly stealthy. He counted at least three, maybe four or five different people. People who were inside the perimeter Macler and Norton were supposed to maintain.
Con rolled to his feet, carefully and quietly, then he put a hand on Sophia’s shoulder. She didn’t immediately wake, so he gave her a little shake.
She came awake with a soundless start and stared at him for a moment before she took a breath.
He put a finger over his lips, then gave her hand signals to tell her to stay where she was, but arm herself with the Beretta. When she nodded, he backed away, readying his weapon.
He eased around the blind corner, presenting as small a target as possible to anyone outside.
Several shapes and shadows were in motion, moving past the tent he and Sophia were in. Now they were all concentrated around to the sleeping tent.
Not three or four or five, but eight distinct people were moving in, all carrying some sort of weapon or implement that could be used as a weapon.
In his experience, the only people who snuck up on other people in the middle of the night were people up to no good.
Con took three steps forward, then set off a flare and tossed it in between the men and the tent Henry and Stalls were sleeping in.
Smoke emerged out of the dark from the direction of the desert. He moved in to cover the left side of the lab tent on fast, silent feet, his weapon up and ready to fire.
River ran in from the hospital tent, his compact body in a tight crouch that distorted his shape into something scary in the night.
The movement and light sent men yelling, shouting and running in about six different directions. Henry and Stalls stumbled out of the tent without gear. Just a weapon in their hands.