Before The Cure (Book 1): Before The Cure

by Gould, Deirdre

  The nurse stopped the elevator door from closing with one hand. “Listen, Mr. Newton, let’s go upstairs and we’ll talk about your options, okay?” His eyes flicked toward a security guard at the end of the hall and Neil noticed. “We don’t need to cause a panic. These types of large scale incidents have to be sorted out, right? They work a little differently. Your hand will be fixed up in twenty minutes, I promise. We’ll run a few tests just to make sure nothing got transmitted when you got bit or in the blood castoff from others. And then, we’ll see what the police need. Could be out again in an hour. We need the beds down here for other patients, you understand? The most important thing is to stay calm.”

  Neil glanced at the security guard too, who was watching them, attracted by the repeated ding of the elevator.

  “I don’t have a choice?”

  “No man, not for a couple of hours. You said you had a kid, don’t want to bring anything home to her, right? Better safe than sorry.”

  “Bring anything home? Bring what home? What’s going on?”

  “Let’s go upstairs, get you settled, get you some answers.”

  The security guard started walking casually toward them. What are you going to do? Resist? How? Just go along. It’s just a fucking report, Neil. Just get on the elevator. He stepped onto the elevator and the nurse nodded with a friendly smile, following him in. They traveled up the building in silence.

  What happened next was a whirlwind of questions about his health history and actual treatment. Tetanus shots and stitches and the sharp tingle of astringent chemicals in the air. Several vials of blood sent to a lab somewhere in the depths of the building. Then— nothing. For hours. No information to follow up on the nurse’s ominous hints. No police sergeant with a pad of paper to take a report. No doctor coming to check on his status. No one until a woman with a tray of food appeared and just as quickly vanished down the hall somewhere else. He stuck his head out of the door more than once and had seen staff racing between rooms on each occasion. Whatever was happening was keeping them busy. Maybe there’d been more people on that bus than he remembered. Or more people in the ambulances. He tried to be patient. Called his work, who’d already heard from Dante. They were keeping him, too. Then his mom, who’d been sneaking away from Randi all afternoon to watch more of the footage from the parade. She was in a bad state.

  “It’s okay, Mom. I’m okay. Couple of stitches and probably some antibiotics, that’s it.”

  “But I heard people died, Neil.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, a couple people did. But I’m okay. You don’t let Randi watch that, okay? She was far enough down that she couldn’t have seen any of that.”

  “Of course. When do you want me to come and pick you up?”

  “I’m not sure. Sorry about dinner. The police still have to come take a statement and they’re waiting for blood tests. Things are— weird here. I’m not sure anyone knows what happened, really. If it’s late, I’ll call a cab and come get Randi in the morning.”

  “I haven’t let her watch the news. She knows you’re hurt though. She’s awfully worried about you. I don’t think Joan told her much. If she could hear you tell her you’re okay—”

  “Yeah, Mom, I’d love to talk to her.”

  A little rustle and a few thumps as his mother passed the phone to his daughter and then a frightened little voice, “Dad?”

  He made his voice loud and cheerful, better than he truly felt. “Hey, Bunnypop. Having fun at Grandma’s?”

  “Are you coming to get me soon?”

  “She’s making you play rummy again, isn’t she? I know you hate that.”

  It earned him a little laugh. “No, Dad. But— she’s worried a lot. She keeps baking things.”

  “It’s almost Christmas, sweetheart, that’s what people do.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “It’s okay, Randi. She was just nervous. But now you both know I’m okay, right?”

  “Are you sure? Mom said there were ambulances.”

  “There were some ambulances, but I wasn’t in one. I just have a cut in my hand. Dante and I rode the bus. That’s why it’s taking so long, there are people who were hurt worse than we were, they have to take care of them first. Make sense?”

  “I guess…”

  He tried a different tactic. “Mom and Harry wouldn’t have left if anything serious were wrong, would they? They would have stayed right there with you. Mom went on vacation because she knew I was okay. And Grandma loves any reason to have you visit. It’ll be okay, kiddo, I promise. I’m just waiting to get some medicine to bring home with me so I don’t get sick from the cut, and then I’ll come to Grandma’s. That’s all. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

  “Okay, Dad.”

  “Love you, Randi.”

  “Love you too. See you soon.”

  “You bet.” The phone beeped as Randi hung up and he settled back into boredom, picking at the cold food left from dinner and watching reruns of a police procedural rather than the news. It was getting repetitive.

  5

  It was almost ten o’clock before a doctor finally returned to his room. He was getting fidgety, his body too accustomed to the late dinner rush at the restaurant to keep still. The sterile bleach smell and the harsh light felt off. Wrong. And it was too damn cold in the hospital room. He was used to sweating and bouncing between stations, to the thick smell of garlic and grease. Charlie always thought he and Dante were trying to wriggle out of a shift whenever they called in sick, that they were somehow faking. Twelve years they’d been working for him, and he still thought that. But Neil missed it. He missed the noise and the heat and the dull ache in his hips at the end of a rush. It was a relief when the door finally swung open and his doctor walked through. “Kind of late for rounds, isn’t it?” he asked her. “Thought I was going to be here all night. So glad you stuck around.”

  The doctor frowned and scanned the large tablet she carried. “I’m sorry for the wait, Mr. Newton. I’m afraid you will be here until morning.”

  “Why’s that? And don’t give me the ‘police report’ line again. If they cared that much, someone would already have come to take my statement. There weren’t that many people involved at the parade.”

  She lifted his chin and pressed gloved fingers slightly into the soft underside of his jaw. “I assume an officer took down your information at the scene. Not my concern, anyhow. You need to stay overnight for observation.”

  He pulled slightly away from her hands. “Observation?” He slid his hand over the spots she’d pressed. “Why are you checking my neck? I just needed stitches for my hand is all.”

  “Relax, Mr. Newton. I’m just checking your lymph nodes to make certain you don’t have an infection.” She pulled a tongue depressor from its wrapper and waved it vaguely at him. “Open, please.”

  “What? I— no. You should be looking at my hand. If I have an infection it’ll be swollen or sore or something. Nothing to do with my mouth—”

  “Sir, it’s been a long night. I’m just trying to do my job. It’s a hassle to be stuck here for a few more hours, I know. But if you had to come back because of a life-threatening infection, it could be weeks. Or longer. And you’d rightly blame me. You can understand that, can’t you?”

  Neil sighed and opened his mouth so she could look. She remained silent, typing on the tablet for several seconds. At last, she looked up at him again.

  “I’d like to take a look at that hand now.”

  Neil bit back a sarcastic reply and simply stuck out his bandaged hand. She unwrapped the gauze and twisted his wrist gently. The wound was an angry snarl of dark stitching and puffy skin, but Neil couldn’t see anything particularly off about it. “So?” he demanded after a moment.

  “So. Hard to tell. In a few weeks, you can go to your primary care doctor and see about a referral to an occupational therapist if you have—”

  “I meant is it infected?”

  “I don’t know yet. T
hat’s why you’re here for observation. It takes time for any microbe to become detectable.”

  “I don’t understand. You have the blood work. Why can’t I go home and if something comes up or the labs come back with something, I can just come back?” He was seized with a terrible thought. “Is it— that guy, I thought he was on something. Some drug. It’s not rabies, is it?”

  The doctor began re-wrapping his hand with the bandage. She didn’t look at him. “I can’t give you information on other patients, sir.”

  “Other— the man who bit me is dead. Unless you’re some kind of miracle worker, he’s not your patient. Do I have rabies? Is that what you’re telling me?” Neil’s chest hurt like his breath was rattling over gravel, like he couldn’t pull in enough air and he was drowning.

  “I can’t say for sure. Not for another forty-eight hours or so. That’s why it’s better that you stay here, where you can be treated to prevent any infection from getting worse—”

  “You said I’d be here until morning, not two days.”

  She glanced uneasily at him before returning to the bandage. “Look, you don’t want to bring it home to your family, right?”

  “Rabies? The guy just bit me this morning. I’m not a doctor but I know rabies doesn’t move that fast—”

  “We aren’t sure it’s rabies,” she said abruptly. “Maybe you’re right, maybe it was some bad drugs or a history of psychological problems, but shouldn’t we be sure?”

  “This is insane. I’ve heard of being cautious, but this is— just release me. I’ll follow up with my doctor—”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Mr. Newton.” The doctor stood up, briskly tossing the old bandages into the biohazard bin. She didn’t remove her gloves. In fact, he couldn’t remember if she’d had them on since she’d walked into the room or not. “Get a good night’s—”

  “Forget it. You don’t want to release me, that’s fine. I’ll go anyway. You can mark me down as difficult or whatever the technical term is. I’m going home—” he stood up but she pushed him firmly back down with a hand on his shoulder.

  “No, sir, you aren’t. I’ll release you as soon as your tests show that you aren’t a danger to the greater population. Until then—”

  “Danger? What the hell are you talking—”

  “Please don’t make me call security,” she snapped.

  “I’m not doing anything!” he cried.

  “Good. Then we don’t have a problem. Get some rest, Mr. Newton. A nurse will be by in the next hour to give you something for pain.”

  He waited about five minutes after she left to grab his coat and try to leave. He found his room door locked. He knocked at it, experimentally, but nobody came. He waited a few minutes more, then tried the call button near the bed. A nurse appeared with a security guard at her side.

  “What can I do for you, Mr. Newton?” she asked calmly. Neil eyed the security guard who just watched him silently.

  “I wanted to grab something from the vending machine, but my door— my door was locked.”

  “Yes. It’s for your safety. We’ve had a few incidents tonight. It’s best if you remain in your room.”

  “Am I a prisoner?”

  The nurse laughed, but it was too loud, went on too long. It only increased Neil’s uneasiness. “Of course not, you’re our patient. I’ll be happy to get whatever you need from the vending machine. Or I can have the cafeteria send up—”

  Neil shook his head to stop her. “What if there’s a fire?” he asked.

  “All the doors automatically unlock in the event of an emergency. If that should happen, take a right out of your doorway and head to the stairwell. Jeffrey here will be there to help.”

  The security guard nodded gravely.

  “But I’m certain the excitement for the night is all over. So why don’t you go ahead and get ready for bed? I’ll be in with something for your pain in just a moment.”

  The door clicked distinctively behind them. Had it done that after the doctor had left? Was he just listening for it more closely now? Neil wasn’t sure. He checked the door again after a few minutes, hoping he was wrong, but the door was still locked. He wondered if it were just him or if everyone from the parade was still in the hospital. Dante, he thought, I’ll call Dante.

  The lady at reception still had Dante in her system and connected him, but it took several rings before Dante picked up the phone. Neil was too unsettled to be worried that he woke his friend.

  “They letting you go home?” he asked before Dante had even greeted him.

  “No. Shill— still here. Keeping me overnight. You?”

  “Shit. No. I’m here too. I was hoping they treated you and let you go already. I was just about to hang up. They’re keeping me for observation.”

  “Yeah, me too. Shoulder achesh like sumbish.”

  Neil hesitated. “You’re still in pain? You sound like they got you drugged to the gills man.”

  “I dunno. Can’t remember, really. Hursh like hell though. Gonna ash— ask for something. Tommy and Graziella are okay. No reason to stay up. Randi ok?”

  “Yeah, yeah, Randi’s with Mom. You go ahead and call the nurse. I’ll talk to you in the morning, man.”

  “Night.”

  He hung up the phone and resigned himself to watching reruns of some old creature features and worrying until he sank into a troubled sleep.

  6

  The next day was no better, just a slow crawl of hours between blood draws and some kind of antibiotic dose that he heard the doctor explaining but didn’t really listen to. The medicine caused nausea even after the starchy, heavy meals the cafeteria sent up and Neil’s anxiety only worsened it. His boss had called, haranguing him to get back to work even as Neil explained that he was still hospitalized. He wasn’t certain he’d have a job when this was over. Too old to go looking around for another, he told himself, listening to Charlie spout off about how inconvenient his and Dante’s absence was. Don’t say anything stupid. He let Charlie wear himself out venting and then just reassured him in a more cheerful voice than Neil actually felt. Afterward, it was just more hours of puttering. He heard shouts in the hallway and tried the door again. Still locked and the window to the corridor was too small to see very far. Just a janitorial cart pushed slightly askew and a mop bucket tipped over, spilling suds across the floor. Nothing and no one else.

  A call from his mother and Randi next, they were decorating the house. His mom was worried, he could hear it in her voice, the tense way she asked questions as if she were trying to hold them back but they burst out anyway. He wished he had more information for her. He told her about the rabies test, but not about the locked door. Not like she could do anything anyway. Randi was distracted enough that she wasn’t missing him, not yet. That was good. He wanted to keep it that way. When he hung up, he drifted back to the door. He needed to find out how much longer. If he wasn’t home soon, there’d be more than disappointing Randi to worry about. The mop bucket was still there. He could see the water splattered over the floor, though the suds had long since popped. There was a filmy rainbow of old soap on the top of the puddle. Weird. That’s a safety hazard, isn’t it? How long’s it been since I’ve seen anyone? Breakfast at least, wasn’t it? Enough waiting around. Someone needs to tell me something. Anything. They have to understand I have a kid and a job. It’s just a couple stitches. Danger to the public. What the hell was that all about anyway? He leaned over the bed to press the call button but hesitated. You sure you want to know, Neil? You sure it’s not just better to wait? What on earth do they think I have? What was at that damned parade?

  He pressed the call button. His heartbeat sounded too loud in his ears. It drowned out the low drone of the television. His skin felt itchy, prickling and tingling, especially near the edges of the bandages around his hand. Come on, come on, he willed, staring at the blinking call button.

  “Mr. Newton. Do you need assistance?” The voice sounded slightly winded.


  “No— I— yes. Can I talk to someone? I haven’t seen anyone since this morning. I have no idea how long I’m—”

  “Your chart says you spoke with Dr. Barnes during morning rounds. You’re due for another dose of cefprozil in about an hour. I’ll be in to give it to you then.”

  “Cef— what is that for again?”

  “Seems you have a touch of strep throat.”

  “I’m not here for strep. I’m here for my hand.”

  “I know, sir. Look—” the sound broke off for a few seconds and he heard some shouts in the hallway again. The voice broke through again. “We’re rather busy down here, sir. I’ll be happy to discuss your treatment with you shortly.”

  The call button blinked off. More shouts. He darted to the door, pressing his face to the small glass window, trying to see farther down the hallway. Someone in a loose, flapping hospital gown flailed at the corner of his vision. More than one other figure surrounded them. He could hear their voices but not the words and the small group of people slipped out of his sight after a moment.

  Neil paced the small room for a while, shutting the television off in frustration, tired of the constant chatter of daytime talk shows. He stood at the large window overlooking the parking lot for a while, watching a stream of ambulances arrive and then quickly depart again. None of them had their lights on. The rest of the lot looked largely empty. Strange. It had been quite full when he and Dante had arrived.

  The nurse finally knocked, and the door opened. She was alone this time, no security guard backing her up. Neil hoped that meant he’d be released soon. “Careful the bucket,” he warned her as she entered, even though he knew she must have already seen it. She glanced over her shoulder.

  “Thanks,” she said, “I’ll ask Cody to come clean that up. Someone must have knocked it over on the way through. Can’t have that when lunch arrives.” She smiled and it was too tight, too cheery to be genuine. She held out a small plastic cup to him. “Cefprozil and your ibuprofen,” she said. He looked at it.