“What do we have?” he called out to the room at large. Amber Hutchins, the head nurse on shift, was using a machine to push air through a tube inserted in Daryl’s throat.
“TRTV pilot, male, mid-twenties,” Amber began. “Landing accident involving another vehicle in mid-flight. The patient has not achieved consciousness since medics arrived on the scene. There is a deep laceration on his neck, but no other visible injuries. The medics estimate he’s lost over three pints of blood so far. They have been unable to stabilize the injury. His vital signs are erratic.” The nurses had transferred the pilot to the examination table and pushed the gurney off to one side of the cramped room.
With the assault of information from Amber, Nathan evaluated the situation quickly. If all the data was correct, it should be a simple matter of stitching up a severed artery, given all the blood.
“Alright, start an IV; let’s get some Angel blood in him. I’ll remove the bandages and see if I can locate the source of the bleeding.” Amber was still pushing air through the pilot’s trachea as Nathan gave the orders. Nathen walked around to the opposite side of the table to examine the neck wound.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Doc!” a medic shouted just as Nathan took a hold of the blood-soaked bandages, but the warning was too late. He had already lifted an edge of the bandage, and a sick, sucking sound squelched through the room as he peeled the rest from the pilot’s neck.
Amber gasped and turned her head away, covering her mouth with one hand as the other kept the pilot’s breathing apparatus steady. Nathan stood frozen, holding the bandage in his hand as his mouth fell agape at the sight below him on the table.
“What the…” he whispered.
Along with the bandage, the skin from the pilot’s neck was gone, revealing the underlying muscles, veins, and larynx. Nathan remembered his first day in Gross Anatomy class where he dissected a human cadaver. That experience had been hard to stomach as a first year medical student, but that was nothing compared to what he now witnessed on the exam table.
A chorus of audible gasps throughout the room brought his attention to the present. He stood motionless as the exposed tissue started fizzing, and foaming. White nodules grew at a rapid pace and burst like soap bubbles, expelling pus over the exposed tissues. All the nurses and medics backed away from the pilot in horror.
The grotesque condition of the patient was unlike anything Nathan had ever seen, with the exception of the baffling cases that had stumped him over the last few days.
Nathan lay the bloody bandage on top of the pilot’s abdomen with care. He hoped to return the pilot’s skin back to him before the end of the day. The gore and skin faced him like a macabre trophy.
“Amber!” Nathan shouted. “I need more sterile wrap. You! Medic!” he yelled, jabbing his finger at the medic closest to the door. “Grab your friends. We’re putting this man back on the gurney. He needs to be transported up to the Level Ten Crisis Unit now!” Nathan began re-wrapping the bandages around Daryl’s neck with the cold detachment that stemmed from his years as a triage medic in a combat zone.
“How many more of these cases are we going to get?” he thought to himself. “And are they all just going to get worse?”
Five minutes later the pilot, medics, and Dr. Park were aboard the emergency air transport heading up into Olympus. He needed access to better medical equipment and the expertise of his mentor. He activated the communication device he had plugged in his ear and called Dr. Abraham. He was worried about how he would explain the situation with people of low-level clearance in earshot.
“Hello, Nathan,” Saul answered with a jovial chirp.
Nathan covered his mouth with his free hand to muffle his voice. “Saul, we just got another one. And this one is much, much worse,” he said in a low voice. “I’m heading to the Level Ten Crisis Unit with him now. This is beyond anything I’ve ever seen. I need you to take the lead on this one.”
On Saul’s end of the line, Nathan could hear the sounds of clattering plates and clinking glasses.
“I’ll meet you there in twenty minutes,” Saul replied. Nathan heard Saul ask for the check before the call disconnected. Knowing Saul was on his way helped ease some of his anxious frustration over these unsolvable cases. He focused his attention back on monitoring the status of his patient.
“Who were you talking to, Doc?” one of the younger medics asked. Nathan recognized him as one of the newer members of the emergency response personnel assigned to the landing field crew. Nathan only new his last name was Robards from the metal plate attached to his uniform. He excused the young medic’s nosiness as inexperience.
Nathan debated in his head how to answer that question, weighing the pros and cons of divulging sensitive information. If he caused panic with rumors of a false epidemic, his credibility could evaporate. He formed a frank answer in his mind that was honest but cautious.
“That was the director of the Center for Disease Prevention. He’s also the chief pathologist in Olympus. If anyone knows what we’re dealing with, it’ll be him.”
This statement was true, but it also was a half-truth. All the previous cases had been much tamer in comparison to what this pilot was battling. Saul was the best in their field, but both he and Nathan remained flummoxed by the growing frequency, not to mention intensity, of the ghastly cases.
Evangeline stormed into the reception area of the base clinic. “I’d like to see Private Daryl Simmonds, please,” she asked. The strain in her voice betrayed the calm mask of her face.
The nurse, Amber Hutchins, checked the system and froze where she stood. The memory of the examination room had been replaying in her mind since Nathan and his team had whisked the pilot away to Level Ten treatment. In her career as a nurse, she had dealt with bruises, cuts, broken bones, and burns. She had never witnessed a scene so horrifying as what she saw when Dr. Park lifted that bandage.
“Excuse me! Lt. Simmonds?” Evangeline prompted, drumming her fingers on the counter. She stood at the counter with her arms outstretched, as if she was going to vault the counter and search the system herself if she had to. Amber shook her head and woke herself out of her trance.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, struggling to keep her voice steady. “What’s your relation to the patient?”
“I’m his flight instructor. We were involved in an accident out on the landing field just now. I’d like to see him and speak with his doctor immediately, please.” Evangeline was growing visibly impatient with the absent-minded nurse behind the counter.
“Was that his name?” Amber asked with a horrified stare. “He was only in here for a few minutes. We never got his name from the medics.” Amber stood up and leaned in close to Evangeline with a conspiratorial air. “What was he exposed to?” she asked in a hoarse whisper.
The question took Evangeline back a step. “Exposed? What do you mean? He passed out in his cockpit and almost crashed into the training grounds!” Evangeline leaned over the counter, getting in Amber’s face. Amber recoiled; she was skittish after what she had witnessed that day.
Evangeline backed off when she saw that the daft nurse found her threatening. “Please,” she sighed. “Please tell me what happened to Simmonds.”
Amber understood Evangeline did not mean to attack her, and she was reassured by her ignorance of whatever had made that pilot so ill. She took a cautious step toward the counter, leaning in close again. She licked her lips and cleared her throat, grasping for the right words. She wished Dr. Park were there; he was more adept at delivering grim news.
“They’ve taken him to the Level Ten Crisis Unit.”
Evangeline stared with unregistering eyes. “What does that mean?”
Amber glanced around the room. A small crowd of visitors and hospital staff had stopped their own conversation to eavesdrop on the tense exchange with Evangeline. She felt a sudden wave of self-consciousness and cleared her throat again. Without speaking, she directed Evangeline around the corner, guid
ing her into the small file room so they could have some privacy.
“I’m so sorry to have to tell you this,” her voice wavered. “Level Ten Crisis is a quarantine facility. It’s where they take patients that are suspected to have serious or unknown diseases.” Evangeline stared into Amber’s kind eyes. “It’s where,” she took a deep breath. “It’s where patients are taken if they’re not expected to live.”
SEVENTEEN
“You need to get this off your mind.” Jack said as he stood in their kitchen, leaning against the counter. “It’s not your fault. How could it possibly be your fault?”
Jack cradled Evangeline against his body with her arms folded up against his chest. His arms were wrapped around her as he massaged her back, alternating between gentle circles and running his fingers over the ports along her spine. She let out an involuntary smile. He was always there for her, and always in the way she needed.
Evangeline still felt shaken by the news of Daryl’s relocation to a quarantine clinic. She had insisted on getting herself examined for any signs comparable to Daryl’s symptoms. While she sat in the exam room, she released a small outburst of joyful tears when the nurse reported that there were none. She was in perfect health. After Amber delivered the good news, Evangeline asked how Daryl could have contracted the disease.
Evangeline recalled a portion of the conversation as Jack squeezed her tight.
“He could have picked it up anywhere,” she said, “in a million places that you’ve never set foot. How well did you know him?” Numb detachment filled Amber’s eyes. Evangeline sensed that the nurse’s mind was somewhere else, unable to focus on the present.
“I was assigned as his trainer just a week ago, and we only first met in person a few days ago,” Evangeline answered feeling defensive. “I really hadn’t had much time to get to know him.”
Amber gave Evangeline a sympathetic smile with a distracted nod of her head. “There are countless clubs, bars, and other night spots on Olympus that he could have frequented while off-duty. Who knows what he could have picked up and from whom?”
Evangeline watched a shudder run up Amber’s spine as she turned away and headed for the door, allowing Evangeline privacy to change out of the examination gown and put her flight suit back on.
Evangeline took a long, slow breath, taking in Jack’s scent, and closed her eyes. “You’re right,” she replied. “The doctors cleared me.” She knew she wasn’t responsible for the vicious disease which had caused Daryl to lose consciousness, thereby triggering the TRTV accident, but the circumstances nagged at her anyway. She sighed and pulled away from Jack as the teapot whistled. She poured herself a cup of herbal tea, and offered him some as well.
During their conversation, Tori and Addison had been sitting on the floor, playing with Addison’s blocks. As Jack took a sip of tea, he noticed Addison staring at him.
“What’s on your mind, buddy?” Jack asked with a smile.
Addison continued to stare, and then switched his gaze to Evangeline. “Mom, are you going to die?”
His concern touched her. The bond she shared with her virtual children often surprised her, as did their expressions of tenderness for her. She sat down on the ground to be at eye level with him. “No, sweetie. I’m not going to die. I’m as healthy as a horse,” she said with a big smile.
“Horses only live for twenty five to thirty years,” Tori offered with no warning. “So, you must be healthier than a horse.” The virtual girl never looked up, but continued playing with the blocks on the floor. Evangeline let out a giggle. She was certain, but unsure how, Tori had been programmed with Jack’s dry sense of humor and his affinity for random trivia. Evangeline stood up, turning her attention back to her husband and her neglected cup of tea.
“You’ve been tinkering with the kids again, haven’t you?” she asked him in that voice that was both a tease, and an accusation. Jack took a sip from his cup and wiggled his eyebrows at her over the brim. The boyish guilt in his eyes confirmed her suspicions.
“I’m just trying to see how well they deal with some abstract concepts,” he answered with a shrug of his shoulders.
Without warning, Jack set down his cup and clapped his hands together, startling the children out of their play.
“Kids, we’re shutting down early tonight. I’m taking Mom out on a date!”
“But I don’t want to go to bed. I’m not tired!” Addison whined. Jack chuckled at the boy’s choice of words. Jack’s computer-generated son would never be tired unless his program told him to be.
As usual, Tori spoke up first. “It’s not about being tired; it’s about doing as you’re told. Let’s change into our pajamas so Mom and Dad can go on a date.” Tori took Addison by the hand and they dissolved out of the kitchen.
Jack looked at Evangeline with a wry smile on his face. “Now, aren’t you sometimes glad we don’t have real kids? Real kids aren’t nearly as compliant as my babies!”
Evangeline knew Jack was just trying to help. She had told him about being faced with making the government requirement to remove her reproductive organs when she became a TRTV pilot. He had designed Tori to give his wife some taste of motherhood, and he later created Addison to give Tori someone with whom to interact. Having artificial-intelligence children made life more interesting for them, but it was not the same as bringing up human children.
Evangeline gave Jack a big smile, and put her empty cup in the sink with a clink. “I’m going to go get changed. You’d better have something good in mind,” she said, playfully jabbing her finger into his chest before she walked out of the room.
EIGHTEEN
Jack and Evangeline walked out of the massage therapy clinic and headed toward the entertainment district. She felt rejuvenated after their ninety-minute massage, which was a welcome treat after a long and exhausting day. She appreciated Jack pampering her. It made her feel precious, feminine. Feminine was not something she felt while on base or on duty.
As they walked down the street, Evangeline enjoyed feeling relaxed and drowsy. She longed to go home, crawl into bed with Jack, and make love. Jack wanted that too, but he wanted to eat first. The night was still young, and Jack was more of a night owl than Evangeline.
Evangeline was unquestionably more of a homebody than her husband. There were times when he needed to get out of the house and expend some energy. His favorite activity was the simulated combat arcade he owned with some of his friends from his academy days. He had loved the thrill of the simulations since he was a boy.
Evangeline was not as interested in simulated combat. Because of her years in military service, civilian simulated combat arenas seemed juvenile. She could never understand the appeal they held for Jack.
Jack, on the other hand, was still just a big kid at heart. He loved playing in simulated battles with the younger kids. He would jump out from behind obstacles and scare them, and he pretended to have real injuries when they shot at him.
Hand in hand, Jack and Evangeline made their way to a shuttle station with a few minutes to spare before the next transit arrived. They used that time to share soft kisses under a glowing marquee sign. Three shuttles arrived and they boarded the one that headed to the lower levels with restaurants and gaming establishments.
As they rode along on the shuttle, another passenger struck up a conversation with Jack. The man knew of his work with artificial intelligence and had some questions about the virtual kids with whom he had been having problems. Jack, always eager to talk about his work, engaged in an excited conversation with the man. Evangeline clung onto Jack’s arm and allowed her mind to wander through the events of the day.
She recalled how she missed her stop on the train, the vehicular accident in the LTZ, the former TRTV pilot, Daryl’s near fatality.
“The woman with the ports,” she mumbled to herself. The memory roused her from her daze. “What an odd place to run into a retired TRTV pilot.”
She tried recalling the woman’s face, but the mee
ting had been brief and Evangeline had been distracted by everything else happening at the scene. Try as she might, Evangeline could not reassemble the woman’s face in her mind. She let the recollection pass. She was too relaxed to waste energy on something so meaningless, the face of one retired pilot. She made a mental note to look her up in the base records before her next patrol shift.
The shuttle reached its destination and Evangeline put all thoughts of the peculiar woman out of her mind. Jack stood and thanked the other passenger for their “simulating conversation.” Evangeline smiled and rolled her eyes at his awful pun. The man responded with a comment about blue wallpaper and both men laughed, amused at an inside joke to which she had missed the set-up. With a final wave, Jack took her by the hand and they departed the shuttle.
The walk was brief to the new restaurant Jack wanted to try, which was quite crowded inside. Their wait for a table would have been much longer had Jack not hacked into their reservation system before leaving home. When they entered the restaurant, the staff greeted them with eager anticipation, as if it they were waiting on some famous for the evening. Evangeline tried giving Jack a stern, disapproving glare, but her gestures were half-hearted. She detested waiting for a table when they went out to dinner. It was one of the main reasons she preferred staying home after a rough day. But, tonight she had a hard time disapproving his unique style of bypassing a boring wait, knowing he had done it just to make her happy. She delighted at the first-class treatment.
Evangeline felt more alert after a delicious dinner. She was feeling less tired than she had right after the massage, but she was still in the mood to take Jack home early. But he had other plans, which included spending time in his simulated combat arena, Ground Zero. His boyish excitement was infectious and she agreed that doing something different together that evening seemed exciting.
Avenging Angels (The Seraphim Chronicles Book 1) Page 10