Whats so funny? Janine asked as she joined Faith, two fashion magazines added to their purchases.
Faith pointed. Genetically Engineered Supermen. Where do these rags get that stuff?
Janine shook her head. Oh, thats been all over the news, not just in the tabloids.
Faith glanced at her roommate. Youre kidding.
The Genetics Division is all atwitter, Janine added with a wave of her hand and a roll of her eyes. But from what Ive seen in the newspaper, they dont have anything concrete. Just some old stories and a few impossible-to-decipher files and conjecture. Mostly conjecture, from what I read.
Genetic engineering had made great strides in the past few years, but in the sixties? Impossible.
Still, the news sent a shiver dancing down Faiths spine. She wasnt sure why. True, she had no memory of her life before her real parents had been killed in a car accident. Shed been ten years old at the time. The Martins had taken her in, as theyd taken Nash in a couple of years before her. They had been the only parents she wanted or needed, until their deaths. Alice Martin had passed away four years ago from a heart attack; Elliot Martin had followed his beloved wife less than a year later. In spite of her medical training and tendency to explain everything to excess, Faith believed that her father had died of a broken heart.
Nash, her adoptive brother, was the only family she had left. A successful sculptor by trade, he was thirty-five years old but had not yet grown up. At least, not entirely. She loved him, anyway.
It was easy to imagine all sorts of fantastic things, when you couldnt remember where you came from. As a child, she had spent many nights fantasizing about who her birth parents had been, where she had come from. Shed imagined that she might be a long-lost princess. Many nights shed wondered if perhaps her parents had survived the car crash and were desperately trying to find her.
Maybe something horrible had happened to her to make her forget her life before the age of ten.
Thirty-three was a little old for fantasy of any kind. Besides, genetically engineered supermen? Ridiculous.
Absurd tabloid tales dismissed, a pint of rocky road ice cream was added to the cart.
Janine opened the freezer door and plucked out a carton. Fat-free and sugar-free, she said. Think its any good?
Their eyes met, and after a short pause they both shook their heads. Janine added a disgusted Nah, and replaced the container on a freezer shelf.
They were carefully perusing the other selections when Faiths cell phone rang.
Dont answer that! Janine ordered.
Faith grimaced. As much as she was enjoying this outing, she didnt have much choice. She snagged the cell phone from her purse and flicked the button to answer. Faith Martin.
Im glad I caught you, the tinny voice said. Teddy Lipmans high-pitched tone was unmistakable, even with a less than clear connection. The directors assistant delivered all the bad news. Somethings come up.
Ive been back in the country two days, Faith argued. I havent even spoken to my brother yet. Nash hadnt answered his phone. No telling where he was.
I thought you might like this one, Teddy said in a lilting, teasing voice. Of course, I can always ask Dr. Taylor and his team to step in, if you need more time to recover from your trip to India.
She sighed, unable to keep herself from asking, Details?
We have an antimicrobial-resistant virus that has an entire town shut down. The virus has not yet been identified.
Is the town quarantined?
Not yet.
Antimicrobial-resistant viruses were her specialty. Shed traveled all over the world studying them, developing new treatments and vaccines for drug-resistant diseases. Where?
Montana.
That bit of news made her forget everything else. Suddenly she didnt need time off to recover from her last trip. Here? In the States?
The state medical examiner ordered an autopsy on the first two victims. He was stumped, so he called us. Dr. White is studying the samples he sent at this moment, and so far hes every bit as stumped as the Montana Medical Examiner.
Fascinating, Faith said softly.
Janine sighed and began to sort through the cart, taking out the cookies and ice cream and potato chips and leaving only low-fat, low-salt, low-taste food. She returned the rocky road to the freezer and laid the other things on a display of chocolate syrup in the aisle. Faith reached out and grabbed one package of cookies, as Teddy relayed a few details over the phone. Shed need something to eat on the plane, after all.
Dr. Luke Winston stood at the foot of the hospital bed and frowned at his sleeping patient.
He liked his answers straightforward and fast, and so far he had nothing concrete on this virus that had laid low a large number of Carson County residents and killed five others. Nothing. The state medical examiner was apparently having no better luck.
At first, he had thought the flu had arrived early, but hed very quickly been proved wrong. This was no flu. Whatever the virus was, it turned nasty fast and could be deadly. Like the flu, this disease was most serious in the old and the young. Three of the five fatal cases had been patients over sixty-five. One had been a woman in her thirties, local artist Mary Milstein. Mary had always been sickly, susceptible to the ordinary illnesses that worked their way through a community now and then, and she hadnt been strong enough to fight off the virus. None of the treatments hed tried on her or the others had been effective. The fifth casualty, last nights victim, had been a healthy middle-aged man, a carpenter Luke knew very well, and that loss had been hard to take. Very hard.
It now looked like Benjy Carter would be the next casualty. Luke had delivered Benjy Carter into this world six months ago. The child had not been healthy. His mother, Angela, had lost her husband shortly after discovering that she was pregnant. Her mental and physical state had not been the best during her pregnancy. Benjy had been small at birth, and hed had one health problem after another since then. With time and the proper care he might have outgrown his difficulties. He wouldnt have that chance now, and that made Luke angry. Only a miracle would keep little Benjy alive through the night.
White-hot rage flooded through him. How else could he possibly handle this? He understood anger, he embraced it. The last thing his patients and nurses needed was to see him break down and cry.
When Angela woke, he would have to tell her that her baby wasnt going to make it. She suffered from the same virus, but she was healthy. She might very well survive. The problem was, none of his patients were getting any better. Some of them had been here a week. How much abuse could a body take?
The Carson County Clinic was not set up to handle an epidemic like this, but hed done the best he could. The north wing of the second floor was now isolated, and he and the nurses who worked here wore protective gear at all times. Normally Luke managed this clinic by himself, with one full-time nurse and a couple of part-timers. The population of Carson County was small, and he was able to fulfill his duties as County Health Commissioner and full-time doctor with no problem. Young specialists who were building their practices in Great Falls and Bozeman came to the Carson County Clinic once a week, or once a month, to see patients here. Other than that, this was Lukes town. His county. His people.
He heard Mollys strident voice far down the hallway. Heavyset, dema
nding, no-nonsense to the core, she was his number one nurse and had been for five years. What would he have done without her the past week? She had not only converted Betsy, the nurse who sometimes helped her out in the clinic, to a round-the-clock, indispensable assistant, she had also managed to convince two R.N.s from Bozeman to come to Carson County for the duration.
On the second floor it was just him, four nurses and seventeen critical patients.
You cant be here, miss, Molly said.
Luke didnt move from his spot at the foot of Angelas bed. Molly could stop a tank, if she had a mind to. Whoever was attempting to enter her domain didnt have a chance.
I said this area is restricted! Molly said in a sharper tone.
A softer voice answered, and Luke turned his head as the door opened.
He wasnt sure what he had expected when hed heard Molly charging down the hallway chasing an intruder, but this woman certainly wasnt it. She had wavy dark hair pulled away from her face, leaving her features stark and sharp on a pale face. Large, dark blue eyes, regal nose, full lips. She wasnt conventional, she wasnt gorgeous, but she was pretty, in a startling and unexpected way.
And she had no right to be here.
Get out, he said sharply.
She didnt flinch. You must be Dr. Winston. Would you prefer to talk in the hallway? Without waiting for an answer, she turned and left the room.
Luke followed her, bursting into the hallway and yanking off his mask.
She offered her hand as if she expected him to shake it. He glared at her, keeping his gloved hands to himself. She let her hand drop.
Im Dr. Faith Martin, she said calmly. Im with the NIAID. The National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases.
I know what the NIAID is, he said tersely. Who sent you?
Im here on behalf of the National Institutes of Health. We were contacted by the Montana Medical Examiner. It appears you have an epidemic on your hands, Dr. Winston.
Im aware of that.
Im here to help.
His first instinct was to tell her to get out, that he didnt need any help.
But in truth he needed all the help he could get. Dammit.
Where can my team set up?
Team?
There are four of us.
Molly spoke up. She was no longer annoyed with their intruder. She appeared and sounded grateful. There are a couple of empty rooms on the south wing of this floor. I can open the divider between the rooms and move out the beds. With a little help, I can have it ready for you and your team in no time.
Dr. Martin glanced at Molly. Thank you. That would be very helpful.
Molly smiled tiredly at Dr. Martin before she turned away. Was his best nurse turning on him? Molly didnt smile at complete strangers who came barging into their clinic. Maybe she knew they were desperate for any kind of help they could get. He certainly wasnt getting the job done.
Dr. Martin pulled a pair of latex gloves from the pocket of her coat and snapped them on with the precision of someone who does just that a hundred times a day. Without a word she walked past Luke to enter the room hed just left. Two very ill patients rested there. Luke cursed, put his mask in place, grabbed another from the cart in the hallway and followed her.
Dr. Martin! he snapped as she foolishly leaned over a sleeping patient. When she glanced toward him, he waved the mask at her.
She did not take the mask. I studied the samples and the notes that were sent to the NIAID by your state medical examiner. While I have not yet been able to identify the virus, I can tell you that it is not spread person-to-person. Its similar to a hantavirus, but is unlike any previously identified strain. Its likely all your patients came into physical contact with the host.
Dr. Martin examined the patient quickly and efficiently, all of her attention on the woman on the bed. Her movements were graceful, her hands delicate and decidedly talented.
Once she began to examine the patient, he might as well not have been in the room, for all the mind Dr. Martin paid him. Her focus was entirely on the woman on the bed. The patientfifty-year-old Melinda Harriswoke, and was visibly alarmed to find a strange woman hovering over her.
Melinda, Luke said through his mask. Taking in what Dr. Martin had told him, he removed the mask. This is Dr. Martin. Shes here to take care of you.
The invading doctor cast him a quick glance. Of course Dr. Faith Martin wasnt actually going to take care of anyone. She was here to poke and prod and treat his patients as if they were lab rats. But he wasnt about to alarm his patient by telling her the truth.
To his surprise, Dr. Martin took Melindas hand. How are you feeling? she asked.
Terrible, Melinda croaked.
Is your throat sore?
The older woman nodded her head.
No one had to ask about the trouble Melinda had breathing. She rattled and coughed.
Dr. Martin continued. Muscle ache? Sharp headache here? She pointed to the back of her own head. After each question Melinda nodded. Thats very helpful. The doctor straightened the covers over the woman on the bed. In just a little while, my associate is going to draw some blood. Is that all right?
Again Melinda nodded obediently.
Were going to find something that will make you better as quickly as possible.
Thank you, Melinda said hoarsely.
Luke glanced at the other bed. Angela still slept. Thank God. He wasnt ready to tell her that her son had taken a turn for the worse: he never would be.
When Dr. Martin left the room, he followed. She removed her gloves, and he ripped his away. He tossed his gloves into a nearby trash can Molly had set up for that purpose. What kind of a doctor are you? he asked sharply.
She turned to face him, turning up those dark blue eyes that looked so deceptively innocent. Im an epidemiologist, she answered seriously as she followed his example and disposed of her gloves.
Two nurses, the new girls from Bozeman, stood at the end of the hall whispering, their heads together. They were both in their early twenties, one blond and thin, the other dark and stocky. He could never get their names straight. One was Jane and the other was Michelle. They were both angels, in Lukes mind, to come here when they didnt know what they were fighting.
Most of the patients had been given something to make them comfortable, which meant they were asleep. Jane and Michelle would check on each patient frequently, but at the moment there was nothing else they could do. The entire north wing was too much like a morgue to suit Luke.
Dr. Martin glanced up at him. Thats not what you meant, is it? When you asked what kind of doctor I was, it was an insult of some kind.
Her lack of ire pushed his buttons, big time. Im just a little surprised that a doctor would stand over a patient and lie the way you did. How dare you walk in here and promise my patients a cure when there isnt one! We dont even know what this is!
I do, she said calmly.
Her answer took him by surprise. All he could think about was how he was going to tell Angela about Benjy, that he hadnt slept more than three hours at a stretch for a full weekand that Dr. Faith Martin smelled too good.
<
br /> What is it? He wanted to know what disease had descended upon his town and turned his neat little world upside down.
Can we discuss this over dinner? Im starving. Missed lunch.
I dont have time to eat, he snapped.
She showed no visible reaction to his angry response. Her words were calm. When was the last time you ate a meal, Dr. Winston?
In truth, he couldnt remember when hed last eaten sitting down. Molly handed him granola bars now and then, and kept him hydrated with bottled water. He ate and drank on the run.
Dinner, he snapped. Why not? I guess your team will keep an eye on the patients for me.
Dr. Winston, do you have a problem with my presence here?
He lied with a straight face. Of course not. Shed been here a matter of minutes, and he already had problems with this womans presence. Like it or not, he needed her help.
Glad to hear it, she said. As we arrived, I saw a caf on the corner. Is the food there any good?
Fair enough.
She turned and walked away from him. Its going to be a long night, and Im really a bear to work with when Im hungry.
So far Dr. Martin had been too nice. Luke had been a bear lately, but he kept telling himself that when this virus was under control everything would be better. The sad truth was, hed been a bear for ten months, since Karen had died. Best not to let his mind go there, not today. He told the nurses on duty to call if they needed him; he had his cell phone with him at all times, as always. Janeor was it Michelle?nodded as Luke delivered his instructions.
The epidemiologist who had barged in and was trying to take over his clinic didnt dress provocatively. Her sweater and trousers were loose, dark green and warm enough for a Montana October. Her hair, interesting as it was, hadnt been teased, curled and sprayed into submission. As far as he could tell, she wore no makeup. Then again, she didnt exactly need any.
Family Secrets: Books 5-8 Page 72