The Extinction Series | Book 1 | Point of Extinction

by Ellis, Tara

  Jason grimaced. The woman had a crushing injury to pretty much the whole right side of her body. Her head and arm had gotten the worst of it, and her brachial artery was hemorrhaging out around white shards of humorous bone in her upper arm. She was already unconscious and barely breathing. Jason wondered how she’d ever made it to the hospital alive. Even without the injury to the artery, the brain trauma was obviously not survivable.

  “Steve, right?” Jason asked. He took a black marker out of his hospital scrub pocket and made a large, obvious X on the woman’s forehead. “She should have never been marked as Red.”

  Steve’s shoulders sagged and took a step back, allowing the blood to flow unstaunched. He made a motion to wipe at his nose and then stopped when he realized his gloved hands were covered in warm blood. “It didn’t start bleeding so bad until we got her onto the gurney,” he explained, his voice hoarse. “I thought I could stabilize her with some fluids.”

  Jason glanced at her other arm. Thankfully, a line hadn’t been started yet. They were quickly running out of IV bags and they didn’t have any to waste. “I get it,” he said, mustering up what was left of his compassion for the day. “But if you’re going to be running the Red wing, you need to be making the hard choices, Steve. You’ve been doing this long enough. Even if you managed to stop the bleeding, she has a compressed skull fracture. You know the time and resources spent on people without a chance of survival could save several others who do have a chance, with the right help.”

  One of the first things Jason did upon pushing his way through and into the emergency department, was to get a workable process for triage set up. The ER acted as a funnel, where patients were brought to be assessed and if necessary, stabilized before being moved. The dead and dying were marked with the black X and taken to the basement, which for the moment wasn’t yet at capacity. The main floor of the hospital was then broken down into Red, Yellow, and Green sections. Red was critical, Yellow was non-critical though serious, and Green was minor, walking wounded. Once the Greens were bandaged up, they were then put to work wherever they were needed, when appropriate.

  If it weren’t for the sheer numbers of injured needing care, and their shortage of nurses, doctors, and supplies to do it, the system would have been adequate. As it was, Jason estimated they’d be overwhelmed in another twelve hours, just under twenty-four hours since the earthquake hit.

  “We need more gloves and morphine,” Steve said stoically, having accepted Jason’s decision. Moving on to the next gurney, he checked the pupils of an unconscious man with a bandage wrapped around his head. Blood was soaking through, and he had dark bruises already forming around his eyes, indicating severe brain trauma. Any other time, he would have already been up in the neurology department and probably getting prepped for surgery to relieve the pressure on his brain.

  “I’ll let Dr. Chase know about this guy,” Jason said, gesturing to the man. Edward Chase was the top neurosurgeon at the hospital and Jason’s closest friend there. He was also helping him to fast-track a transition from emergency medicine into neurology. “As for the gloves and supplies,” he added, while pulling out a couple of pairs and handing them to Steve. “The Nursing Supervisor was able to get into central supply downstairs and got enough to hopefully tide us over until the National Guard makes the drop in a few hours. I’ll make sure someone brings you a few boxes.”

  Jason didn’t wait around for any thank you’s. He didn’t want or need them. What he needed was more help, and that was the one thing that was proving the hardest to get.

  Any nearby phone towers must be down, because no one had been able to send or receive any calls or messages. Once he got the ham radio operational, he learned the whole damn coast had unzipped, causing massive damage from north of the border to the southern end of Oregon. The resulting tsunamis were spreading the catastrophe around even more, and would eventually impact Hawaii and Japan.

  The bottom line was the Washington State National Guard had its hands full. While Seattle was the largest city in the state, and Harborview the top trauma center in that part of the country, they couldn’t demand and expect to get resources which simply weren’t available. They’d been lucky to get what they were promised, though it wouldn’t be enough to extend their ability to provide care for more than another day or so.

  In addition to the logistics and supply problems, Jason had a growing concern about security. As the scope of the disaster became more evident, and the realization the city would be without any functioning infrastructure for days… possibly weeks, the likelihood for people losing their shit increased ten-fold.

  The hospital would be a good target. Once everyone trapped in the city understood they were without power, water, fresh food, or a way out, desperation would run rampant. In thirty-six hours, your friendly soccer mom would be going after someone with a crowbar to get their water bottle in order to keep their child alive for another day. Looting was already occurring. Soon, it would become a free-for-all.

  Jason had already spoken with Brian about it, the other trauma doctor and former Marine. One of the sections on their “Green Recruitment List” was security. He couldn’t worry about the other structures that were a part of Harborview, but they would do all they could to keep the hospital safe. The first and simplest move was to lock down all the doors except for the main entrance and emergency room, essentially putting them into lockdown. However, Jason knew that while locked doors might work for a little while, it wouldn’t be long before they’d need some tougher deterrents.

  Jason took the stairwell to the next floor and quickly made his way to the cafeteria. It was the pre-designated location for the command center, and he’d seen no reason not to use it. The main, east hospital building had withstood the earthquake better than he’d even expected. There were noticeable cracks in some areas of the ten-story building, but other than some really good shaking, it appeared sound. It was good to know all the money to retrofit it had been well spent.

  Though there were several other structures that made up the medical center complex, Jason’s only concern was the east hospital building and emergency room. The other buildings would have to deploy their own emergency plans and were likely mostly empty at the time of the event, anyway.

  The sight of an older, greying gentleman sitting at the table before the whiteboard made Jason smile. “Mr. Tramwell,” he said with genuine pleasure. “You’ll never know how good it is to see you. I think this belongs to you.”

  Mr. Tramwell scowled as he reached out to accept the vest. “I’ve been up here for less than fifteen minutes and I already have a very clear understanding as to why you would say that, Jason.”

  A young man with a logistics vest on ran up to them. When the guy looked first at him, Jason urgently shook his head and pointed at Tramwell. “Nope. You need to talk with him, now.”

  It was a short conversation, so Jason waited. He was eager to get back downstairs and he still needed to go find Eddy and tell him about the new neuro patient in the Red hall.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to stick around?” Mr. Tramwell asked as the logistics officer hurried away. “It looks like you have a pretty good handle on things here. I don’t know that I can do any better.”

  “Frankly, sir,” Jason said without any hesitation, “I’m needed in the emergency department; not up here. I tried to get some things started for you but this is where I back out. I’m happy to continue to oversee the communications between the ER and command, and I’ll still be working on getting some security set up.”

  Tramwell waved a hand, and it was then Jason noticed the splint he was wearing on his other arm, which was hidden under his jacket. “You do whatever it is you see best,” he said. “I’ve got a couple of other people lined up already, so we’ll be okay here. I apologize for taking so long, but as I’m sure you can imagine, the last part of my commute was a doozy.”

  Jason gestured to the splint and abrasions on his face. “You okay? I heard you’d sto
pped in the Green room for some patching up on your way in.”

  “I’m fine,” he scoffed. “Better than most. When is that helicopter due? I’d say the greatest issue I’m seeing right now from the various departments are some basic supplies.”

  Jason nodded. “Shouldn’t be more than another three or four hours. They said it’d be before dark.” Crossing the cafeteria, he opened the door to the back-meeting room and then knelt down to give Marty open access to his face. It was the best option Jason could come up with while he was running back and forth. He wasn’t about to do something stupid like lose him in the freaking hospital.

  “Gotta go,” Jason announced as he stood back up. “Keep us in mind if you have any more staff come in,” he said on his way out. “Anyone with a set of hands would be helpful. We’re looking at a meltdown in the next day, otherwise.”

  Jason took the stairs two-at-a-time on his way back down, feeling an urgency after being gone so long. While the emergency department had 68 beds, it only staffed three senior doctors and fourteen nurses on a normal shift. It wasn’t enough.

  Walking the corridors leading to the trauma center was like a journey through a bad haunted house gimmick. Gurneys lined the hallways and although there was a certain level of organization to it, it didn’t appear that way to look at it. Blood pooled on the floor in places as well as used gauze and empty IV bags. The garbage bins were filled to overflowing before he’d even arrived and the cleaning staff on hand could only do so much to keep up.

  A child crying for his mom blended in with a man screaming and a woman moaning in despair. Nurses and techs were moving from bed to bed, doing what they could. One of them was openly sobbing. Jason would check in with the green room and see if there was anyone who could give breaks. If the professional staff started breaking down, they’d be in trouble a lot sooner than the next day.

  He patted at his leg to make sure Marty stayed close before pushing through the doors designating the ER/Trauma Center. The first thing he saw was a mad rush of staff around a bed in the main unit. Two men were lifting someone onto a cardiac board, which would give a firm base for chest compressions.

  Jason hung his head as he pushed his way through the crowd of staff and patients. Why would any of the senior physicians allow them to perform CPR on what should be designated as a Black patient in a mass-casualty incident?

  Pulling a pair of gloves from his pocket, ready to assist regardless of what his own personal thoughts were, Jason stopped when he came alongside the bed. On it was a small boy who couldn’t be more than ten years old. A woman screaming from the front triage area must have been his mom. He had a crushing injury to his chest and was most likely already gone. Jason was the first to get his hands on him and he started compressions anyway, while battling with his own demons over what it meant to be a parent.

  In that moment, he didn’t care how hopeless it was. After so much death and misery, Jason understood why it didn’t matter to the senior staff if it was a waste of resources and their time. That little boy and his mother deserved to believe someone was willing to fight for his life. To stop everything else in that small space of time and acknowledge that he meant something. In the middle of a hopeless situation, they all needed a reason to keep trying…to keep feeling.

  Jason knew he was already dead, and he didn’t care. While he’d managed to numb himself to the horrors of what had happened and what they had to do, he desperately needed the reminder of what it was they were all fighting for.

  Chapter 25

  MADS

  Undisclosed mountainous region in northern California

  Madeline pulled a piece of corn from the towering stalk and stood looking at it. Life was an interesting cycle of give and take, and nothing was spared being extinguished in the end, one way or another.

  Lifting her face to the warm breeze blowing up through the valley, she wanted nothing more than to simply close her eyes and soak in the raw life that surrounded her. One of the reasons Mads chose her mountaintop retreat was for that very reason. So she would always be reminded, when she began to have doubts about the human species. Except, now it felt like a mockery to the millions of deaths she had a hand in causing. Because there was no escaping the truth when you were alone, by yourself, with no one else to tell you otherwise. Mads didn’t close her eyes.

  Walking from the large, carefully planned garden with purpose, she ignored the other picked vegetables already sitting in a basket near the gated entrance. Corn in hand, she crossed the loosely maintained yard and climbed the porch stairs. Her phone had chimed, indicating a new email. She preferred to be in the office when she opened it, rather than outside. It wasn’t logical, but Mads didn’t want the communication with ICONS to spill over into her retreat. The grounds were already stained by the meeting from over six hours earlier, but she figured some more sage burning and she’d be back on track.

  Mads chuckled at the thought and tossed the corn into one of the empty leather chairs. Did she have sage somewhere? It might not be too bad of an idea. If the Native Americans believed in the cleansing properties for thousands of years, who was she to doubt? She needed all the help she could get.

  By the time she’d finished giving Kabir Bakshi a reality-check at their meeting earlier, the man finally showed the first hint of fear. Which was good, except it turned out that in spite of all his wealth and power in the business world, Bakshi was still on the lower tier of the ICONS Board of Directors. He wasn’t the one with the ability to pull any strings, only to find them.

  Mads had been waiting for an update from the board ever since. Meanwhile, she continued to monitor and track new and concerning natural occurrences. She’d started calling them symptoms, thinking it was a fitting description. It was how they’d need to approach the looming worldwide catastrophe if they had any hope of evading it by staying one step ahead.

  Sitting down at the desk, she brought up her secured email and frowned. It wasn’t from ICONS, but her contact at Diego Garcia. Opening the correspondence, her frown leveled out. At least it wasn’t bad news. The package was secure and en route to the rendezvous point. Mads looked at the original time stamp and checked the clock. It wasn’t much longer before she could get visual confirmation, though it wouldn’t be until the next day when she’d be able to set up a live link and speak with Peta Kelly directly.

  Tapping the desk with her index finger, her eyes drifted to the overturned photo. “This is a fine mess, Henry,” she spat. “It should be you on that helicopter, you insolent coward. You better not have dragged the answers down into the MOHO with you or I’ll never forgive you.” Her voice caught and Mads reached out intending to pick the picture up and instead swept it onto the floor. It wasn’t right for her to make it personal, except that it was. There was no getting around it and she’d have to work through the emotions if she was going to stay focused.

  Henry had always been a self-centered, paranoid workaholic. He was known to keep encrypted files and even paper documentation he could literally hide, when working on some new discovery. His inability to trust anyone was the primary reason their relationship had never really gone anywhere. When her explosive personality was added to the mix, people were known to run away once they started laying into each other.

  She tried to caution the talking heads at ICONS when his name was brought up in the early stages of pulling together an investigation team, after the submarine volcano eruption. However, she was already on the outs by then and being set up as a proper scape-goat, so her opinion carried little weight. Besides, the investigation was a joint effort by the NOAA and other top world environmental groups, so she didn’t know what kind of reach ICONS even had with them. Henry was the obvious choice, as the leading Marine Geophysicist in the world, second only to herself.

  As soon as he was appointed, Mads starting grooming him in an attempt to get him to share any discoveries with her. Oh, he knew she was working as a consultant for ICONS on the MOHO project, but that was where his knowledge
ended.

  “I should have known better,” Mads sighed, standing wearily.

  Henry was smart. Too smart for his own good on more than one occasion. The military contacts with ICONS got her access early on to the remote, shared database for the MOHO submarine volcano research. Mads and the original research team had been all but cut out after the initial debacle. That was how the eruption and new island was viewed in both the private and public sector. A fiasco that should have never happened. Environmentalists tried to use it as a means to get other exploration groups shut down, while entrepreneurs tried to figure out how to purchase the newly formed island and capitalize on it.

  Mads had spent years analyzing data from Henry in the past, and so after ten months of sifting through his typical documentation on the MOHO site, she recognized the shift. Up until that point, she had succeeded in convincing both herself and ICONS that their primary objective was still secure and it would only be a matter of time before they could move forward. The submarine volcano was an unexpected, but not catastrophic setback. All the equipment, personnel and the ability to reach their payload was still in place. They just had to ride it out and wait.

  Then, Henry became evasive. His reports, while still filed, lacked content and his typical chain of evidence. He was guarded, and Mads had assumed it was because he’d discovered the unbelievable deposit of methane clathrate, also known as fire ice. It was a clathrate compound that contained an incredible amount of methane, trapped in a crystal structure of water that resembled ice. Except it wasn’t ice, and represented a lucrative phase in between the world transition from fossil fuel to green energy.

  Though several countries had already toyed with and even made a few attempts to mine other deposits, ICONS would have been the first to successfully harvest it using a new and much more efficient method. They were going to corner the market, making the share holders trillions of dollars richer in the process. It was a game changer that had the potential of shifting world power both figuratively and literally.