by JC Ryan
As soon as JR arrived, he asked what was going on. More than half of the work crew hadn’t reported for the inbound train to the valley, and Summers was up in arms about the excavation schedule. After all, they had a limited time here, and he couldn’t afford to have his crew unavailable. Checking her records, Rebecca had to report to JR that in addition to the five gravely ill patients in the infirmary, she had sent eighteen to their dorms with the same initial symptoms. She assumed the course of the illness would follow more or less the same pattern, so she had about a week to get in more supplies of antiviral and antipyretic medicines, oxygen and equipment to deliver the latter. She told JR she was going to need more help in caring for them as well. She needed reinforcements, as soon as they could get there.
That evening when the work crew arrived back in the canyon on the train, ten more reported to the infirmary. At dinner, the mess hall was virtually empty, with one scientist, four assistants and twenty eight diggers confined to either the infirmary or their dorm rooms. Summers counted heads, aghast.
“We’re down to one-third of my crew,” he lamented. “JR, you need to bring the South Americans in early.”
“Wait,” said Rebecca, at the same time as JR said, “I doubt…”
“Go ahead,” he deferred.
“I don’t think we should bring anyone else into this situation until we understand what we’re facing,” she said. “Except some medical personnel. I need to talk to Daniel tomorrow and find out what’s happening with identifying the virus those first five had. I was too busy today to do it.”
“Maybe I can do that for you tomorrow,” said JR. To Summers, he said that he doubted they could get the scattered South American crew back much earlier than their scheduled arrival on the next Sunday anyway. Rebecca was frowning.
“JR, thanks, but I’ll probably have to talk to the doctors myself.”
“Oh. Sure, babe,” he said. “But I’ll stand by to help however and wherever I can.” He sent her a reassuring smile and squeezed her hand before returning to his meal.
As it turned out, the call was deferred until late in the afternoon on Tuesday, because all seventeen of the remaining crew members reported in sick during the night and the next morning. By the time an exhausted Rebecca had made them as comfortable as possible, with JR’s help in the case of the thirty percent or so who wouldn’t allow her to touch them, she was near tears.
“JR, what is this? How could this have happened?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart, but one thing’s certain; you need help or you’re going to get sick yourself. In fact, I’m surprised you haven’t already.”
“Doctors tend to develop immunities, they’re exposed to so much. But I’m worried about you, and anyone else who’s been riding the rail cars with the ones who are sick. If everyone else here gets sick, I definitely won’t be able to keep up.”
“Babe, you can’t keep up now. Let’s go call Daniel.”
Daniel, who’d delegated staying on top of the situation to his assistant Traci, was shocked to learn that the entire digger crew had been infected, but promised to get information to them by noon the next day and then to send whatever medicine and medical personnel needed as soon as they’d assessed the need. Daniel was deeply concerned that more workers were ill, but no one seemed to be getting better. While he wasn’t given to alarmist thinking, he had a nagging feeling of unease that he couldn’t explain or shake off.
The moment he hung up, he intercommed Traci to come to his office immediately.
“Traci, I thought I asked for a daily report on the situation with those dead crew members’ family.”
“Yes, sir, but I can’t get one. They’re stonewalling me because of patient confidentiality.” Daniel had run into that once before, having been denied access to Sarah while they were engaged until her family okayed it. But he hadn’t thought about it in conjunction with their current situation. He kicked himself for delegating it to Traci, who, while competent at most things, seldom took initiative. He would have to handle it himself.
“Get me the doctor’s names and numbers, Traci. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have put this on you. I’ll take care of it.” And he would, though he didn’t have a clue how. Fifteen minutes later he was checking time zones to determine whether he’d be able to reach the doctors at their respective hospitals. Unfortunately, it was late in the evening in all three countries, though he did try Egypt because it was an hour behind the other two. As he’d expected, no answer. Rather than leave a message, Daniel left the office with the intention of returning by eleven that night to begin trying to reach the doctors in Saudi Arabia and Turkey. He’d stay until he had some answers.
Sarah was surprised to see him home so early, but happy when he came into the nursery where she was playing with Nick, to kiss her and the baby.
“What are you doing home?” she asked. “Did you fire yourself?”
“I’ve considered it a couple of times,” he answered, only half-joking. “I have to go back and may be there all night. Thought I’d come see you and Nick and maybe get a couple hours of sleep.”
“What’s going on, honey?”
“Rebecca’s got a damned epidemic on her hands and she needs answers that I should have had for her last week. I need to get on top of it, and I probably should go down there myself.”
“To Antarctica? Daniel, what can you possibly do, besides get sick yourself? I don’t want you to go.”
In answer, Daniel took Sarah into his arms, the baby squealing in delight between them. “Sweetheart, this happened on my watch. The buck stops here, you know?”
“But, it isn’t like you failed in some way to keep them from getting sick.”
“I know. But most of the sick ones are those diggers from the Middle East. You know how volatile those people can be. I need to make a showing at least, demonstrate that we’re doing all we can. I’ll take a couple of doctors and more supplies with me, probably. Anyway, nothing’s been decided. I need to talk to those doctors that treated the first five men that got sick.”
“The ones who died? Would they have done much about identifying the illness?”
“Yeah, I think so. According to Traci, all of their families were sick by the time they died. I need to find out how they took care of them.”
“I see. Do you want some dinner before you take your nap?”
“No, sweetheart, I’m not very hungry. Maybe I’ll take a sandwich with me when I go back. Just let me get a few hours’ sleep.”
Because of the time difference between the countries where the five had died and Boulder, it was just past midnight when Daniel persuaded a Saudi doctor that he didn’t want personal details, only an update on the families because the first five were his employees. He intended to arrange a settlement for the deaths, even though it wasn’t strictly speaking a company responsibility, he said.
In return for those assurances, the doctor told him that two patients had died, at about the same time as their families, totaling six people, had presented with the same symptoms. Those six, he said, were desperately ill, no treatment had halted the course of the disease, and he didn’t expect them to survive. He had no information on other family members, and several dozen people who weren’t related were now also ill. Shaken, Daniel took information on the precise count and promised to get back to the doctor if the others had found answers. It was the first that the doctor had known that more than his original two were involved.
Daniel’s next call was to Turkey. This time he told the doctor that he had information that might be vital to the well-being of some of his patients. Again, he didn’t necessarily need names, only general answers. Again, two of the patients who had died the previous week were under his care. Daniel wanted to know how many family members were now ill. Surprised, the doctor asked how he’d known. Daniel gave him the information from Saudi Arabia, including the doctor’s name, and again took count of the ill. Seven family members and several dozen unrelated people. He repeated the proces
s in Egypt within the hour. When he was done, he sat back in dismay.
To his knowledge, his five employees had died within two weeks of their scheduled return to Antarctica. Fifteen family members were also in danger of dying, as well as around seventy-five others in various stages of infection. No one had put it together on an international level as yet, but he was certain that it would hit the newsstands as soon as the three doctors began talking among themselves. There was nothing he could do until morning, but he stayed at the office for several more hours, writing notes to himself about what his next moves should be.
Chapter 13 – It means jihad
By the time Daniel reached Rebecca on Wednesday at around noon, she had established a routine. They had moved the patients that wouldn’t allow her to care for them into dorm rooms on one side of the dormitory hall, with the remainder on the other. She had moved everything needed to care for those patients into the dormitory’s day room, where JR and the cook’s assistant, who had first aid certification, were holding down the fort. Rebecca herself was constantly monitoring her five original patients, none of whom was responsive enough now to object to her touch. Every hour or so, she crossed to the dorm to check with JR on the progress, or lack thereof, in helping the others fight off this seemingly innocuous, but deadly, bug. None of these patients had been told that it was likely to get worse before it got better.
When she wasn’t actively caring for patients, Rebecca was either trying to rest for a few moments or praying for a miracle in the form of the arrival of something that would save the dying ones. Because it was apparent they were dying. They were all but comatose, unable to breathe without mechanical assistance from the oxygen pumps, and their fevers were approaching critical despite IV antipyretics and cool sponge baths. She needed an ice bath for them, but ironically, there wasn’t one available. Transporting them outside where there was plenty of ice would have been fatal.
Daniel’s call caught her in the deserted mess hall, cajoling a bowl of soup from the surly cook. She took the call there, with her back turned to the kitchen so she couldn’t be overheard.
“Daniel, tell me you have good news.”
“It would be a lie, Rebecca, I’m sorry.” Her head dropped, knowing that he’d just given her patients a death sentence, without his knowledge.
“What have you learned?”
“You know the ones who didn’t return to camp all died, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And that their families were sick. I’ve confirmed that the sick family members are critically ill and not expected to survive.”
“Oh, my God!”
“It’s worse. Rebecca, I have confirmed that at least seventy-five others are sick in just these three countries. I tried to call the CDC this morning, but it needs to come from a doctor or Medical Examiner. We need to know if it slipped through anywhere else. How are your patients?”
“Dying, Daniel. Barring a miracle, I don’t think they’ll last through tomorrow. That means that as far as we know, this thing has a one-hundred percent death rate.”
“I’m coming down. I’ll bring another doctor, some PAs, and a virologist with me. We have to get to the bottom of this.”
“Daniel, it’s too dangerous. Send the medical personnel, but you stay home with Sarah and little Nick. She’d never forgive me if you caught this. I’d never forgive myself.”
“I have to come, Rebecca. The buck stops here, remember? I can’t give the impression that I’m leading from behind. I know I can’t help much, but I have to be there to show that we’re doing all we can. And out of respect for the dead. Expect us in forty-eight hours at the latest. I’m going to try to get there sooner. What else do you need?”
“More face masks, oxygen, as much antiviral and antipyretic medications as you can get. I’ll call the CDC and ask them to include you in the reporting loop. Daniel, please stay home.”
“I’ll see you soon, Rebecca.”
Rebecca drank her soup rather than have the cook madder at her than he already was, then hurried back to her patients. El-Amin’s eyes were open. “Haraz, can you hear me?” He turned his eyes to look at her without recognition. “We’re getting more medicine, Haraz, and other doctors. Hang on if you can. Don’t give up.” Rebecca was fighting her emotions, not wanting him to see that she was afraid for his life. Slowly, his eyes closed, but his lips were moving, though little sound came out. She put her ear closer to try to hear what he was saying.
“Light,” he whispered. “I…know…” When nothing more was added, Rebecca straightened and looked at him. He was gone. Choking back a sob, she hurried to each of the others. All were still breathing. She returned to El-Amin’s bedside and gently drew the sheet over him. She would take care of everything else later, but right now she needed to report to JR, and more than anything, she needed his strong arms around her.
“JR,” she called as she entered the dayroom. As she saw the other person in the room, she stopped abruptly. JR was getting up to come to her, so she stood her ground, and then when he got to her, drew him out of the room into the hall and threw herself into his arms.
“Babe, what is it?” he asked, fearing he already knew.
“Haraz el-Amin is gone,” she said. Her mournful tone told him that she meant the man was dead. He squeezed her more tightly.
“You did the best you could, Becca.”
“I know that! But it wasn’t enough. And I’ve heard from Daniel.” The rest of the story tumbled through her lips as fast as she could speak while trying to maintain her composure. “JR, please, please be careful about washing your hands, and wear a facemask anytime you tend to these men. I couldn’t bear it if…”
“Nothing’s going to happen to me, Becca. I’d be sick already if it was. But I’ll be careful, and I’ll make sure everyone else is, too. So, Daniel will be here in a couple of days with more doctors and medicine?”
“Yes. And I need to go and call the CDC to get them working on it, too.”
“Okay. Do me a favor and fill in Summers, okay? He’s probably sulking in his room because he doesn’t have any diggers.”
With no patience to spare for Summers’ misplaced priorities, Rebecca snorted. “He’s lucky he doesn’t have this. So far, everyone that came down with it as long as fourteen days ago is dead, or dying.”
With that sobering pronouncement, she went back to the admin building where Summers’ office and her infirmary were located. She reported to Summers, who was in his office rather than his sleeping quarters, and then went back to her patients. The soft susurrus of the oxygen machines was comforting, until she realized that she had failed to turn off el-Amin’s. Quickly, she went to each of her other patients, suppressing a scream as she found them dead, one by one. When she had ascertained that there was no mistake, she sank into a chair by el-Amin’s bedside, shaken to her core. All five, gone within an hour of each other. What was this monstrous disease? And who among her close friends and colleagues would come down with it next? She clenched her hands into fists. No one, if she could help it. Not one more death to this evil would she tolerate. Turning to el-Amin, she uncovered his face, touched it briefly and poured out her sorrow that she hadn’t been a good enough doctor to save him. Then she covered him again.
Somberly, she turned off the rest of the oxygen and performed those duties attendant upon death that she could manage on her own. Rebecca was too weary to remember the other preparations that would need to be carried out to honor these men’s religious beliefs, but she would consult with JR. Somehow, they would have to get it done. With no more need to constantly monitor her infirmary patients, she turned out the light and walked dispiritedly to the dormitory building.
JR spotted Rebecca from the day room as she passed on her rounds. She looked worse than ever, alarming him. Fearing she’d become ill, he jumped to his feet and went after her, finding her in the first patient’s room, adjusting the IV drip. The man was unconscious, JR noticed, as he put his hand on Rebecca’s shoulde
r.
“Becca, honey, you look done in.”
In answer, she turned into him, buried her face in his chest and, in almost a wail, told him the other four critical patients were dead. Grateful that the man in the room was unconscious, JR pulled Rebecca out into the hall.
“Honey,” he started.
“I couldn’t save them! Don’t you understand, JR? What good is a doctor who can’t save her patients?” She collapsed in tears as JR held her, sending love her way with every fiber of his being. She had worked herself beyond her breaking point—no one could have done more. He told her so, and reminded her that some things just couldn’t be helped. Gradually, she gained control, and in a calmer voice told him she was too knackered to know what to do next.
JR reminded her that it would fall to the Foundation home office to notify next of kin, so they would need to make the call to the Foundation. He offered to do it, so she could lie down and rest. With Daniel possibly en route, he wasn’t sure who would handle it. The main thing that concerned him right now was whether it would be appropriate to store the bodies within the cave, which was quite a bit colder than a morgue would have been, though less so than the open canyon. He spoke aloud his certainty that the families would want the remains of their loved ones returned to them for proper burial.
“JR, that’s appalling! Decomposition will have started by that time, and the bodies are infected with an unknown disease. We should do the right thing for them here.”
“Let the Foundation determine what to do, Becca. You shouldn’t have to worry about anything besides making sure the rest of these guys don’t suffer the same fate.”