He left with Angela, the two of them splitting off onto different paths as he headed to the cabin Jenny shared with Lorraine. Light glowed around the edges of the curtains that covered the windows and the door was shut. He knocked and waited but as the seconds ticked by and she didn’t open the door he began to worry.
“Jenny?” he called out, pulling open the screen door easily but found the other door locked. He pounded his fist on the door. “Jenny, it’s Travis! Open up!”
He was just about to step back so he could try to kick the door open when he heard the lock flip over. The door opened a crack and he saw Jenny looking out at him, fear in her eyes.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he replied with a frown as she kept the door cracked open instead of inviting him in. “Angela cleared me so I came to check on you.”
“You aren’t sick?” she asked in a small voice and he shook his head. She let out a sigh and pulled the door open. “Get in then so I can close the door.”
He accepted her invitation inside and Jenny closed and locked the door behind him. It was warm and stuffy inside the cabin and he realized that she had all the windows closed. The days weren’t as hot as they had been in at the height of summer but it still warm enough that you needed a breeze to keep the cabins comfortable.
Jenny shot past him, heading to one of the two bedrooms off the living room, and he followed behind her. A bag sat at the foot of the bed, clothing haphazardly thrown into it. Jenny was at the closet, yanking the rest of her clothes off of the hangers and tossing them at the bag.
“Jenny, what are you doing?” he asked as he stepped further into the room. The short dresser in the corner had all its drawers pulled out, all of them empty. “Why are you packing up your stuff?”
“I have to go,” she said, walking back to the bed and cramming more clothes into the bag.
“Go where? To another cabin?”
“No, go away from here. The island. I can’t be here now.”
“What? Why? What happened?”
She whirled around, her eyes bugging out and a fine sheen of sweat on her forehead. “They are all sick! I have to get away from here. I can’t let the baby get sick.”
Of course she would be terrified of what would happen to her baby if she contracted meningitis. This whole leaving the island thing was a bit of an overreaction but he couldn’t blame a pregnant hormonal woman for thinking like that.
“Jenny, it’s okay. You and the baby will be perfectly fine. Lorraine tested everybody and they’re going to keep anybody who is sick in quarantine so they can treat them. It’s not a big deal, really. You and the baby will be fine.”
Jenny looked at him, tears glittering in her eyes and he noticed her hands were shaking as she clutched her stomach.
“We won’t be fine. God, none of this is fine. We’ve got one doctor and an old laundry room as our hospital. How can we possibly expect that to be enough?”
It gutted him to see her so scared. She didn’t need this kind of stress right now.
“Jenny, I know that we don’t have the best scenario,” He pointed at her half packed bag, “But one doctor and a laundry room hospital is better than nothing. If you leave here, what will you do when it comes time to have the baby?”
Her face went white and her hold on her stomach tightened. “You’re right. What am I going to do when the baby comes? How am I going to have this baby?”
He smiled, glad that he had at least gotten her to see that her escape plan was bad, but when Jenny burst into sobs, his smile disappeared instantly. Oh God, what did he do?
“Jenny, I’m sorry, it’s okay,” he said, stepping forward so he could wrap her in a hug. She buried her face in his chest, her shoulders shaking as she cried. “I’m here for you. I’ll take care of you.”
“I can’t do this,” she moaned out, pressing her cheek into his chest. “I’m not strong enough to do this.”
“Well, that’s just bullshit,” he said, stroking her hair and leaning back so he could look down at her. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. Look how far you’ve made it. Pregnant at the end of the world and you’ve survived.”
“Because other people took care of me,” she said.
“And they will keep doing that,” he said. “I’ll keep doing that. That’s what we do for each other. If you leave, you won’t have that. So no more talking about leaving, right?”
She nodded, wiping the tears from her cheeks as she sniffled. “No, I’ll stay, but I just...I don’t want to get sick.”
“Then you just stay away from the clinic and you’ll be fine,” Travis told her. “They’re going to figure out how to get everybody better and then things will go back to normal.”
“What if they aren’t okay when it’s time for the baby to come? I can’t go to the clinic if they are still sick.”
“Then you can have the baby here,” he said, pointing to the bed. “Or in one of the other cabins or the lodge or the boathouse, wherever you want to have the baby. What’s important is that you’re going to have a doctor and a nurse there to help you through it.”
“What about you? Will you be there?” she asked, looking up at him with her big blue eyes.
Even with her nose red from crying and her hair a messy tangle around her head, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
“Of course, if you want me to, I will,” he told her and he meant it. It wasn’t just that she carried his niece or nephew. He would do anything for Jenny.
“Thank you,” she said, smiling up at him. “I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t here. I know I’ve said it before but I am so happy you made it here. Having you back truly is a miracle.”
He had to fight the urge to kiss her. It was the same any time he was around her but he had learned years ago how to keep himself in check.
“I just wish Alan was here too. He’d have been so happy to see you,” she said. “It broke his heart when we thought we lost you. He told me that if we had a boy, he wanted his middle name to be Travis, for you.”
Travis found himself choking up at the idea. He and Alan had always had some animosity between them, not all of it related to their feelings for Jenny. Travis knew that he loved his brother, though he didn’t always like him, but he had never been sure where Alan stood. It hurt that he didn’t find out the truth until Alan was gone.
It was also a reminder about why he had to keep his head clear when it came to Jenny. Alan would always be between them, even in death.
“I wish he was here too,” Travis said and let Jenny go, moving over to the bed and grabbing her bag. “How about we get you unpacked and then we’ll go to the lodge and get some food?”
Jenny frowned at the suggestion. “What if there are still germs there? The twins got sick from being there with the people who went to the other island. I don’t feel comfortable going over there, not until we’re sure all the germs are gone.”
He had to admit she had a point with that one. He didn’t know much about the transmission of meningitis but he knew that being around lots of people helped spread it. She might be better off staying here until he checked in with Quinton about how it all worked.
“You’re right,” he said. “How about I go check in with Quinton, figure out how we make sure there is zero risk of anybody catching it and I’ll pick you up something to eat and bring it back.”
“That would be good, thank you,” she said, “And would you mind bringing a book or two back from the lodge? Just something to pass the time while I’m in here.”
“Sure,” he said. “You get to unpacking and I’ll be back.”
He left her, breathing a sigh of relief when he walked outside where it was a couple degrees cooler. He hoped that the disease wasn’t airborne so she could at least get some fresh air in the cabin.
As far as the rest of it, well, he’d do whatever it took to make sure Jenny felt safe here. Even if it meant cleaning
every surface on the island with bleach himself. She was going to feel safe here no matter what he had to do.
Subject File #756
Subject: You should have done better. Your uncle should have done better.
Administrator: Quinton, this isn’t our fault.
Subject: You know what? I don’t have time for this bullshit.
*End of session*
Quinton punched in the door’s passcode and headed down to the lab beneath the clinic. It had been two days since Harold had taken the spinal fluid for testing and he was more than ready to find out the results.
The days had passed at a snail’s pace and there had barely been any improvement in Craig and the children’s status. They weren’t able to keep solid food down and had to rely on IV fluids to keep their strength up. The antibiotics were keeping their fevers low but they were still there.
They slept fitfully, babbling incoherently in their fever dreams, and when they were lucid, they complained of aches and pains. It was torture to watch not just them but Janet and Veronica, who hadn’t left the sickroom except for food.
Quinton was ready for this to be over. Clearly whatever strain they were dealing with here needed a stronger kick in the balls and he wanted to know what treatment regimen he needed to start.
He punched in the code for the inner door and found Harold inside, bent over maps spread out on the table in the centre of the room. Harold looked up as he entered, big eyes blinking rapidly behind the thick lens of his glasses. “Is something wrong?”
“Do you have the results?” Quinton asked. Harold nodded and slid off the stool, crossing over to the printer to grab a printout.
Quinton snatched the printout from his hand. “Why didn’t you bring them up right away?”
“Because it isn’t good news. It’s meningococcal meningitis.”
Quinton was confused. He had suspected that was the likely diagnosis based on the symptoms. It was curable, all they needed to do was start the round of injections.
“We don’t have any cefotaxime in inventory,” Harold said.
That wasn’t possible. They were stocked to the gills up there. Except, as he ran over the inventory list in his mind, he realized that he didn’t remember ever seeing it on the list.
“How the hell did they miss adding it to the stock?” Quinton asked and Harold shrugged his shoulders.
“We’ve got plenty of penicillin, ciprofloxacin and amoxicillin,” Harold replied with a shrug of his rounded shoulders. “They must have thought that would be enough.”
“They were fucking idiots then,” Quinton snapped, running an angry hand through his hair.
They could keep them on the Cipro and hope that it would work but it was no guarantee. They needed to be sure all the bacteria were all gone or it would come back stronger and they would be helpless to fight against it.
“Any hospital or major clinic will have it in stock,” Harold told him, his voice hopeful but Quinton felt none of it. That meant another trip to the mainland, more time that the children had to suffer. But what choice did they have?
“Fuck!” Quinton cried out as yanked at a fistful of his hair, pain radiating over his scalp and down his neck, sharp enough to calm down his anger. Now he could focus on the next steps. “Okay, so we need to figure out the nearest hospitals.”
“That’s what I was doing,” Harold said, crossing over to the table and Quinton followed him. “Based on the information the Director left us, there are two major hospitals that will take less than a day roundtrip. Three more that would take thirty six hours.”
Quinton looked over the maps, finding himself impressed at the work Harold had done. There were five maps of Michigan spread out, each of them marked with multiple routes that led from the marina to the different hospitals.
“You’ve got it all worked out,” Quinton remarked and he saw Harold’s cheeks turn pink.
“It’s why I didn’t come tell you earlier,” Harold explained. “I didn’t want to deliver bad news without a plan to turn it into good news.”
He thought of Janet and Veronica upstairs, worrying for the past two days as they waited on the results. Harold was right. He didn’t want to bring them this news without a plan either.
“I’m going to take the maps to Malcolm, work out a plan for sending groups out to find the medicine,” Quinton said and Harold nodded, helping him fold up the maps.
Quinton gave Lorraine a head’s up that he was leaving and found Malcolm in the lodge kitchen with Travis, the two of them cleaning up from dinner. Malcolm read his mood immediately, tossing down the wash cloth and facing him with fists on his hips.
Quinton didn’t waste any time explaining to him the results and handing over the maps for Malcolm to study.
“I think we should send out five groups. We hit each hospital just in case the others are destroyed or already cleared out,” Quinton said after they had spread out the maps on the kitchen island.
Malcolm frowned and shook his head. “We’ve only got three vehicles over there and no guarantee we’ll easily find more.”
Quinton had forgotten that. Time spent finding additional vehicles would be a waste. They needed to be efficient about this.
“I think the best bet is to send out two groups,” Malcolm said, tapping the maps for the two closest hospitals. “They each go to one and search. We’ll take the sat phones to let each other know if we come up empty so we can hit the next two.”
“We most likely won’t have to do that,” Travis said and pointed to Mount Sinai hospital in Midland. “When I was coming here, Javier got a cut that got infected. We hit the pharmacy in this hospital for meds. It was still well stocked. No one had cleared it out.”
“Well, looks like you’ve just volunteered to be on one of the teams,” Malcolm said with a smile. “We’ll still send the second team out to Gibson Memorial just in case something has changed at Mount Sinai.”
“Are you sure we can’t send out more?” Quinton asked.
“Not if we want to do it the smart way. We’re going to be going into formerly populated areas. There’s a high likelihood we’re going to have to engage with infected or maybe even other people. I want at least four experienced people on each team and we need to leave a team here that can take up the search in case anything happens to the other teams. Two is the best we can do and that’s going to be a stretch with the number of viable people.”
He ran over the likely candidates and realized Malcolm was right. Craig was out for the count and Quinton would need to stay here to treat the sick with Lorraine. That was a blow to the list of those capable to pull off a supply run like this.
“As it stands, we’re going to have to ask both Veronica and Jackson to come with us,” Malcolm said. “Do you think your sister would be willing to leave Hannah?”
“If it means she can help her, yeah, she would,” Quinton replied.
“Alright we’ll go tell them what’s up,” Malcolm said.
“You might want to wait on that,” Quinton said. “I haven’t told Veronica and Janet about any of this.”
“I want to be there when you do,” Malcolm said, sorting the maps into a neat pile. “Travis, you mind going to ask the others to meet us out front of the clinic?”
“No problem,” Travis replied and clapped Quinton on the back. “Tell them not to worry, we’ll get what they need.”
His words didn’t diminish the uncertainty that twisted inside Quinton as they returned to the clinic. He hated that he couldn’t just go in there with a syringe full of drugs and fix this whole thing. All he had to offer were promises of a way they could possibly fix this. And promises could be broken.
Quinton steeled himself as they entered the sickroom, reminding himself that he was a doctor and he had to deliver the news as frankly as possible. Sugar-coating was never good in situations like these.
The faint smell of vomit hung in the air and he saw Lorraine stuffing sheets into one of the biohazard bags while Janet helped Matthew
get comfortable under the fresh sheets on his bed.
“We didn’t get the pan to him fast enough,” Lorraine told him. “The rest of them have been sleeping. No other changes.”
Jackson and Audrey sat on either side of Hannah’s bed, both of them dressed in gowns, masks and gloves. Quinton had been limiting their visits since neither of them were vaccinated and he’d forgotten now was the time for their scheduled visit.
“Did Veronica go get something to eat?” Quinton asked them but the sound of a flushing toilet came from the attached bathroom and Veronica walked out with a clean bedpan in her hands.
She started when she saw both Quinton and Malcolm in the room, looking between the two of them before studying Quinton for a moment before she frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Why don’t you take a seat?” he said, waving to the end of Hannah’s bed.
“Just tell me,” she said, dropping the pan on the nearby cart and crossing her arms as she waited for him to talk.
“We got the results,” Quinton said, easily slipping into doctor mode. “It is bacterial meningitis. They are going to need a round of specific antibiotics.”
“Aren’t they on them already?” Janet asked, her eyes darting up to the bags on the IV poles and then back to Quinton.
“They are but the ones they are taking now won’t completely cure this,” he explained. “We need specific antibiotics for this strain. The problem is we don’t have them here.”
Tears sprung up in Janet’s eyes and he wanted to reach out to her but he knew it wouldn’t be welcome. Instead it was Malcolm who pulled his sister into a hug, rubbing a comforting hand up and down her back.
“Tell me you have a plan,” Veronica said, anger lacing her voice.
Quinton knew his sister well enough to know that she wasn’t mad at him. There was a fiery determination that glittered in her eyes that meant she was pissed and she would channel that anger into fixing this.
“We do,” Malcolm said. “Harold has already mapped out hospitals that we can go search. We’re going to send out two teams at dawn.”
The Complex (The Omega Protocol Chronicles Book 3) Page 25