Читать книгу Locked Down With The Army Doc: Locked Down with the Army Doc / The Brooding Surgeon's Baby Bombshell - Scarlet Wilson, Scarlet Wilson - Страница 12
ОглавлениеFROM THE SECOND she walked into the unit she was in complete control. He couldn’t help but be completely impressed. Whatever the little waver was he’d glimpsed outside, it seemed to have disappeared. There were actually two infected patients. It seemed that they’d been brought in only a few hours apart. Was that the start of an epidemic?
Amber took it in her stride and reviewed them—Zane and Aaron, both eighteen, who were clearly very sick. Then she phoned the Hawaii Outbreak Center and liaised with their staff, and then asked for some instructions to find the lab.
Her face was a little paler as they headed to the stairs. “I need to find out what strain of meningitis this is. These kids have got sick really quickly.”
The lab was down in the bowels of the hospital and they had to change into white lab coats and disposable gloves before entering. It was a modern lab, with traditionally white walls, an array of machinery and computers and wide work benches. But somehow it wasn’t quite as busy as he might have expected.
“Where is everyone?” he murmured.
Amber shook her head as they walked through. “Maybe they’ve sent some staff home because of the hurricane warning.”
The head of the lab was an older man, tall but thick and heavyset; he already knew they were on their way and walked over with his hand outstretched. “Mamo Akano. I take it you’re my meningitis doctor?”
Amber nodded her head. “Amber Berkeley from the Disease Prevention Agency. Any further forward in identifying the strain?”
Mamo had deep furrows in his brow. “Maybe. The DPA just sent me some files over for you to consider. Come over here. I’ve opened them on the computer next to the microscope.”
Amber hurried over and pulled up a stool next to the microscope. She glanced over her shoulder toward Jack. “Ready for this?”
It was the first time since he’d got here that Jack had felt out of his depth. This wasn’t his forte. But he was always willing to learn. He gave a nod and pulled up a stool. “Tell me what you need me to do.”
* * *
Three hours later her neck ached and her brain was fried. She’d spoken to her contacts at the Hawaii Outbreak Center, and her colleagues in Chicago. Their strain of meningitis seemed to be unique. It was definitely bacterial meningitis. The cerebral spinal fluid collected from both boys had been cloudy. But the gram stains hadn’t given them the information that they needed. There was nothing like it on file—which was not entirely unusual, but just made things more difficult. It was closest to a previously identified strain of meningitis W135, but seemed to have mutated slightly. “What do we do now?” asked Jack.
Mamo sighed. He’d been by their side the whole time. “In theory, now we wait. But we can’t really do that.”
Jack frowned. “What do you mean?”
Amber gave a slow nod. “Mamo will need to see what the most effective antibiotic for treating this strain is. But sometimes we don’t know that for up to forty-eight hours—even seventy-two hours. We can’t wait that long. Both of these patients are too sick. I need to try and treat them now.”
Pieces clicked into place in Jack’s brain. “So, you guess?”
“Yip,” said Mamo, “Amber has to guess.” His voice didn’t sound happy.
Amber straightened up. Her voice was confident and her manner methodical. “Zane was already started on a broad-spectrum antibiotic—Penicillin G—when he was admitted. But it already looks like it hasn’t started working. Neither of these boys was immunized. So, we immunize against Men W, and we treat them with something more specific—more than likely chloramphenicol—and hope the strain’s not mutated too much.” She pointed to the phone. “Let me make one more phone call. Then I’ll go back up to Infectious Diseases to speak to the consultant. Then...” She turned to face Jack. “Then we’re on a race against time. We need to contact trace. If there are children involved they may already have been immunized against meningitis W. But because this strain is slightly mutated, I still want to give them antibiotics. I can’t take any chances with this.”
“Meningitis W is one of the most dangerous strains, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “That’s why it was included in the immunization schedule in lots of countries only a few years ago. These kids really should have had this vaccine. But not everyone agrees with vaccination. Not everyone takes their kids for them, even though they can get them for free.” She shook her head and turned to Mamo. “I need supplies. Where can I get oral supplies of antibiotics?”
Jack couldn’t help but be impressed. She was on fire. This was her specialty and it was clear she knew the subject matter well.
Mamo walked over to another phone. “I’ll talk to the hospital pharmacy. It’s emergency circumstances—in more ways than one. Being part of the DPA will give you visiting physician credentials. You’ll be able to get what you need.”
She nodded again in grateful thanks. Jack got that. He was a medic too and part of the army. And, although he was confident in his abilities and credentials, it didn’t matter where you were in the world—most countries had their own conditions and registrations for being a doctor. The US had different regulations for each state, so sometimes it made things difficult.
She nodded and laid her hand on Mamo’s arm as he waited for someone to answer the phone. “Thank you,” she acknowledged. He nodded as they made their way back out of the lab and to the elevators.
She leaned against the wall as the elevator ascended. A few strands of her dark pink-tipped hair had fallen around her face and shoulders, and he could practically see the tension across her shoulders and neck.
He leaned forward and touched the end of one of her strands of hair. “I never asked last night. Why pink?”
She blinked for a second as if her mind was racing with a million different thoughts, then glanced sideways as she realized he was touching her hair. “Why not?” she replied simply.
There was something about the expression on her face that made him suck in his breath. She appeared calm and methodical. He was seeing Amber Berkeley at her best.
He was so used to being in charge. But here? Here, he was just Jack Campbell. This wasn’t a trauma situation. Here, he had to let the person with the most experience lead the case. And that was hard for him. “What can I do?”
He had to ask. He wanted to help. He’d help any colleague who needed it—whether it was his specialty area or not. The army had made him adaptable in more ways than one.
She fixed him with her steady blue eyes and gave him clear instructions. “I need to get histories. I need to find out where these boys have been in the last few days in detail. I need to know every contact. I need names, addresses, dates of birth—contact details if they have them.”
Jack licked his lips and asked the first question that had danced into his brain. “And if they are too sick to tell us?”
She grimaced. “Then we ask their family. Their friends. Whoever admitted them. This is a potentially deadly strain. We can’t wait. There isn’t time.” She shook her head. “I don’t even want to think about what doing this in the middle of a hurricane means.”
He gave a swift nod and reached over to give her arm a squeeze. “I can do detailed histories. I haven’t done any for a while, but I still remember how. Let’s split it. You take one, I’ll take the other and then we can check if there’s any crossover.”
She looked down at his hand on her arm and gave a weary kind of smile. “Thank you for this, Jack. You didn’t have to offer, but I’m glad you did. Usually I’m part of a team. So outside help is appreciated.”
“You okay?”
She nodded. “The meningitis stuff? I can do it in my sleep. The hurricane stuff?” She shook her head. “I don’t have a single clue. I feel completely thrown in at the deep end.”
She gave a smile as the elevator doors slid open again. “Remember your first shift as a resident when it seemed like everyone on the ward was going to die simultaneously?”
He let out a wry laugh. Everyone felt like that their first day on the ward. “Oh, yeah.”
“It feels a bit like that all over again.”
He gave her a smile. “Well, think of me as your backup plan. You lead, I follow. Brief me. What do I need to know?”
She glanced over the notes she had. “Okay, these two kids were both part of a surf club. Zane became sick first, exhibiting some of the normal meningitis signs—high temperature, fever, signs of an early chest infection and, a few hours later, some confusion.”
“So, there are at least a few hours between the disease progression in these kids?”
She gave a slow nod. “They were worried they might have to sedate Zane, but the lumbar-puncture procedure went smoothly and they started him on IV antibiotics straightaway.”
“And the second kid?”
“Aaron came in a few hours after Zane with symptoms of shock. One of the other young guys had gone to see why he hadn’t joined them and called 911 when he found him still in bed. The ER physician connected the cases pretty quickly. Neither of them had been vaccinated against Men W, and both had been bunking down at one of the local student residences.”
Jack let out a slow breath. “Darn it. Close contacts?”
She nodded. “Close contacts. We need names and to find the rest of the kids who were in that residence.”
“What else should I be looking for with close contacts?” He realized he was firing questions at her but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to make sure he covered everything.
“The rules are generally people who’ve slept under the same roof, nursery or childcare contacts, and anyone they’ve shared saliva or food with. Dependent on age, they all need a two-day course of rifampicin.”
Jack pulled a face. “Shared saliva with? You mean anyone they’ve kissed? For two teenage boys at a surf school we might have our work cut out. How far back do we need to go?”
“Seven days from first symptoms.”
“Let’s hope the surf school kept good records, then, and let’s hope the boys know who they kissed.”
The lights around them flickered and they both froze. “Please don’t let us lose power,” said Amber quietly. “This could be a disaster.”
Jack sucked in a breath. He could tell the thought of the hurricane was making her nervous. Truth was, it made him slightly nervous too. But he had to believe that the authorities would have plans in place to take care of things. They couldn’t control the weather. They also couldn’t control time, and it was rapidly slipping away from them. “We have two cases. We can contact trace for these two cases and try and get antibiotics to anyone we think could be affected. Hopefully any younger kids will already be immunized.”
Amber pulled a face. “Usually we would spend a few hours discussing this with the local outbreak center and the DPA. The impending hurricane doesn’t help. What if we can’t get to the people that need antibiotics? We can’t ask people to leave their homes as a hurricane is about to hit. And who knows how long it will last?” She shook her head.
“It’s a disaster,” he said simply.
“Just pray it isn’t an epidemic,” she said swiftly. “Then it really would be a disaster.”
* * *
By the time they reached the infectious disease unit again it was in chaos. Bed mattresses had been piled against the windows. The curtains around the beds had been taken down and also stretched across the windows with large Xs taped on the glass. A few of the patients who’d been there earlier had been moved out, but Zane and Aaron were still attached to all their monitors.
There was only one adult walking between both beds. Amber and Jack walked over to meet him. “I’m Amber Berkeley with the Disease Prevention Agency. Are you Zane or Aaron’s parent?”
He shook his head. “Ty Manners from the surf school. They’ve both been with me for the last ten days. I can’t believe they’re both sick.”
He glanced toward the covered windows and put his hands on his hips. It was clear he was stressed. “Everything has just happened at once. I should be down at the surf school making it ready—and sorting out the other kids.”
Jack saw Amber word her question carefully. “Ty, I’m sure you’re worried about all the kids in your care, and the surf school. Do you have any records? Do all the kids that go to the surf school stay in the same place? We really need to trace all the contacts that Zane and Aaron have had for the last seven days. It’s really important we find out if other people have been immunized, and that we get some antibiotics to them if appropriate.”
“It’s definitely meningitis?”
Amber nodded. “It is. Both of their lumbar punctures were positive. And it’s important that we treat things as quickly as possible. We don’t want anyone else to get sick.”
One of the nurses came and stood at Amber’s shoulder with a clipboard in hand. “I’ve contacted both sets of parents. Zane’s mother stays on Oahu. There’s no way she can get here with the imminent hurricane weather but we’re keeping her as up to date as we can. Aaron’s mother and father live just outside Hilo. That’s a two-hour drive to Kailua Kona. State police have told them not to leave their home but I have a horrible feeling they won’t listen.”
Amber walked over to the window and peeled back a tiny corner of the curtain. “Oh, my,” she breathed as she looked outside.
The wind had picked up even more. Enormously tall palm trees were bending in the wind like drinking straws. Public trash cans were rolling down the street like empty soda cans. She watched as an awning at the café opposite was torn away before her eyes by the force of the wind and the red and white material disappeared like a kite being ripped from its string.
It made her heart beat a little faster. She turned to face the nurse. “How soon is the hurricane due to hit?”
The nurse glanced at her watch, then over to a TV screen they had in the corner of the unit. “In about an hour or two. It won’t just be the winds. It will be the rain too. It’s already started but this is nothing. Once it really hits we usually have floods. No one should be out there.”
This was nothing? The rain she’d witnessed as they’d left the hotel had been bad enough. Even with the wipers at maximum their driver had barely been able to see out of the windscreen.
Amber spoke slowly. “But tell that to a parent that thinks their child is at risk.” She closed her eyes for a second. “I wish I’d got a chance to speak to them. Maybe I could have played things down. Given them enough reassurance to wait.”
Jack’s voice was low. “But is that actually true? You suspect that this is an unknown strain of meningitis. The first antibiotics tried don’t seem to hit the mark. Now it’s up to the second. Are these boys really safe?”
Amber blinked back the tears threatening to appear in her eyes. “No,” she said quietly. “Particularly when we don’t know if our treatment is the right one. There’s still a chance they could die—or have lifelong aftereffects.”
She could see Jack’s brain was trying to make sense of this all. His natural instinct as an army doc would be to prioritize. For a second there was a flash of something in his face. Something that made her step back. He looked as if he was trying to suppress his urge to take over. It was only the briefest of glances. But it brought back a surge of old emotions that she constantly felt around her father—as if she wasn’t good enough for this. As if she couldn’t possibly be good enough and someone like Jack, or her father, would have to step in and take over.
Her skin prickled. She hated that. Hated associating someone she’d just met with her father.
It wouldn’t be the first time. She’d often met other doctors—particularly surgeons—who had the same old-fashioned attitudes and opinions. People who wanted to be in charge of everything—including her. These were the people she avoided wherever possible. Was Jack one of them?
Even that tiny flash of recognition in her brain would usually be enough to make her turn in the other direction. But in the circumstances, that was hardly possible.
The nurse interrupted her thoughts. “We’re actually going to try and move these guys. They’ve done that in some of the other wards. Most of the corridors and central areas are full—and we have a lot of equipment we need to take. Someone is preparing a space for us down in the basement.”
Jack’s frown deepened. “Okay. We could help here. We should prioritize. Should we really be taking patient histories for close contacts right now when we might have no hope of reaching any of these people in the next few hours?”
Anger flared in her and Amber swallowed. She knew he was right. But she also knew how sick people could become with meningitis. She spoke in a low voice. “Jack, you offered to help. Not to take over. This is my specialty area, not yours. Of course I know this might be futile. But up until a few hours ago the hurricane wasn’t heading in this direction. It might still turn. The prediction could be wrong.”
Jack held his hands out. “Does it feel wrong to you right now?”
She held her nerve. She wouldn’t let him tell her how to do her job. “Maybe not. But what if something happens to one of these guys? This might not be an epidemic yet—but it could be. It has the potential. And we have two young guys who’ve become really sick in only a few hours. What if something happens to one, or both, of them, and we’ve lost the opportunity to find their close contacts? What if we leave those people at risk? We also know this strain is slightly different. This could be the start of something.” She pressed her hand on her heart. “I can’t let the threat of a hurricane stop me from doing my job to the best of my ability. I have to take the histories. I have to collect the antibiotics and I have to try and talk to as many people as I can.” She took a deep breath and her voice gave a little shake. “If the phone lines go down after this we could be in trouble. People might live near to medical centers. We can adapt. We could arrange for them to collect what they need from there.”
His hands were on his hips. For a second she wondered if he was going to argue with her. Maybe bringing him here hadn’t been a good idea after all. What did she really know about Jack Campbell? The army were used to being in the thick of things; maybe he was struggling with a back-seat role?
“I don’t have time to fight with you about this, Jack. What are you going to be, a hindrance or a help?”
She could tell he was annoyed but she didn’t have time to care. He had to do it her way, or no way.
There was a pause, and then he let out a sigh and gave the briefest shake of his head. “Let’s be quick.”
He grabbed a pile of paperwork and walked over to Aaron’s bed. There was no chance of Aaron talking. He was ventilated with the briefest hint of a purpuric rash on his tanned skin. The new antibiotics were feeding into an IV line. If they were going to make a difference they would have to start working quickly.
Jack looked up at Ty. “We’re going to have to ask you questions because you’ve spent the last few days with these guys.”
Ty gave a nervous nod. “Can’t go anywhere anyhow. What do you need to know?”
Amber started firing questions at him. “Where did they sleep? How many other people are there? Do you have names, ages and contact details? Have any left in the last few days? How many are still there? How many people work at the hostel and at the surf school? What have they been doing at nights?”
Once she started she didn’t stop. Every now and then Jack quickly interrupted with the words “And what about Aaron?” ensuring that Ty was answering for both teenagers.
It seemed that there were around twenty people at the surf school. Things were pretty informal. Most had traveled to get there—some from the other Hawaiian islands. The people who worked there were all local. Timescales were important. Two teenagers had traveled back to other states in the USA yesterday, and a third had left for New Zealand in the early hours of this morning.
While all this was going on, hospital staff worked around them, attaching the two boys to portable ventilators that could be pushed out into the corridor with them; oxygen cylinders were attached to the sides of the bed and a portable emergency trolley was positioned near to the door.
One of the hospital administrators appeared and spoke in a low voice. “The patients in Surgical have been moved. The hospital front entrance has been completely cleared.” Of course, it was covered in glass. “Medical CCU is the safest. It’s right in the middle of the building with no windows, but we’ve already moved the sickest of our elderly patients in there. Pediatrics have been moved down to the theaters.”
“Is the basement ready? Do you have the equipment that will be needed?” asked Jack. Transporting these patients would take more than the few nurses that were left in the department.
The administrator looked a little worried. “The staff room down at the laboratory has been cleared in the basement. The corridor down there is one of the most shielded in the building.” The lights flickered around them again.
“As long as we don’t have a power cut,” said Jack warily.
“Let’s go,” said the head nurse smartly as the windows started to rattle around them. “I don’t think it’s safe to wait. We’ve packed up the equipment that we need.”
She gestured to the nurses who were left. “You two with Zane.” She looked at Amber. “You go with him too.”
“Myself, Ty and Dr. Campbell will take Aaron down in the other elevator.”
There was only one hospital orderly to assist—the rest obviously deployed to other parts of the building. How on earth did you lock down a hospital and keep all patients safe from a hurricane outside? She didn’t even want to think about it.
They wheeled the bed out to the elevator, along with the portable ventilator, tanks and emergency trolley. The progress was slow; it was almost like a juggling act getting all the equipment they needed inside the elevator.
A few minutes later they arrived in the basement. This time she was familiar with the surroundings and backed out of the elevator first, pulling the bed with her. The lab staff must have been warned because a room to the right had been cleared. It looked as if it had been the large staff room, as a pile of chairs and large table were at the bottom of the corridor. The nurse guided the bed into the space and they quickly connected monitors to plug points and checked the ventilator was working properly.
It was weird. Amber actually liked being back in a hospital environment—even though this was a makeshift one. It always reminded her of why she did this job. Sometimes being stuck in an office at the DPA was tough. Only communicating with patients and fellow doctors by phone and email wasn’t really how she preferred to work. She liked this. She liked being in the thick of things. She liked to see the patients, talk to them, be on hand when treatments were being tried and tested. A bit more like the role Jack had just done...
There was a weird sound from the corridor. The nurse looked up and frowned as she fiddled with some cables. “Go and check that, will you?”
The lights flickered again as Amber walked swiftly down the corridor. She automatically looked over her shoulder. It was like being in an old-style horror movie—never her favorite kind of entertainment.
The metal doors of both elevators were still closed. Shouldn’t Jack be here by now with Aaron?
The lights flickered once more then went out completely.
Black. Everywhere.
She automatically sucked in a breath and held it.
“Darn it,” came the shout from further down the corridor, followed by the flickering of some kind of light. Must be from a phone.
“You okay, Amber?” shouted the nurse. “We have a backup generator. It should kick in any second.”
Something flooded into her brain. Keeping her hand on the wall, she walked quickly back to the room she’d just come from. The nurse had her phone in her hand and was using the light from it.
“Are the ventilators still working? Do we need to bag him?”
Even though it was dark, Amber moved to the bed, watching for the rise and fall of Zane’s chest. The nurse was at the other side. She shook her head. “We should have three hours’ worth of battery power. Honestly, the backup generator should kick in. Give it a few minutes.”
There was a large thump from the corridor and some muffled voices shouting.
“Oh, no,” said the nurse.
“What?” asked Amber.
“The elevator. I think your colleague’s stuck in the elevator with Aaron.”
Amber’s heart started to thud in her chest. She lifted her hands from the bed. “Okay, you’re okay here? I can go?”
The nurse nodded. Amber pulled her own mobile from her pocket and flicked the switch on as she walked back down the corridor.
The shouts were getting louder. “Jack? Are you okay?”
“Amber? Is that you? The elevator’s jammed and the emergency phone isn’t working!”
Amber ran over to the doors. It was ridiculous. She tried to pull them apart with her hands but it was obviously no use.
Mamo appeared from the lab. “Problems?” He shook his head. “Can’t do much without power down here.”
She pointed to the doors. “We’ve got one of the kids with meningitis attached to a portable ventilator in there.”
Jack shouted from inside. “Is there anything outside you could use to try and pry the doors apart? I can try from in here, but I think I need you helping on the outside.”
There was a strange sound from inside. Almost a whimpering. Oh, no. The nurse inside must be freaking out. Being trapped inside a black box wouldn’t be most people’s idea of a normal working day.
“Hold on.” Amber held her phone up and tried to scan the corridor around them.
Something seemed to flick in Mamo’s head. “Over here. I think there’s an emergency fire ax next to one of the exits. Maybe we could use that.”
Sure enough, on one of the walls there was an ax mounted in a red box behind a breakable panel. Mamo pulled his lab coat over his fist and broke the glass, grabbing hold of the ax.
“Give us a minute, Jack,” Amber shouted. “Mamo is trying to pry the doors from this side.” Something flashed through her brain. “Where’s Ty?”
The reply was slightly muffled. “He stayed upstairs to make a few calls to the surf school. He wanted to check all the kids had been taken to an evacuation center.”
Prying the doors apart was more difficult than it looked. Mamo put the edge of the ax into the gap at the doors and tried to turn it sideways to widen the gap. After a few minutes he turned to Amber. “You keep holding it,” he said gruffly as he slid his hands and foot into the space that was only a few inches apart.
Amber kept trying to turn the head of the ax wider, while keeping it in the space. Her shoulder muscles ached. Her jaw was tight. From the other side she could see a flash of light. The nurse inside must be using her phone. White knuckles appeared on the inside of the door. She could hear the grunts and groans from Jack. “Grrr...”
After a couple of minutes the doors started to release a little further; both Mamo and Jack stuck their shoulders and body weight in the doors, using their feet to push the opposite door apart.
The elevator wasn’t completely aligned with the floor—probably the reason they’d had so much difficulty prizing the doors apart.
The nurse looked numb. Amber ducked inside and grabbed the end of the bed. “You get the ventilator,” she said to the nurse. “There will be a bit of a bump as we push out.”
Mamo and Jack stayed at their doors, holding them back with their body weight as they guided the bed through between them. The nurse jerked as the bed thudded the few inches to the floor, then steered the portable ventilator alongside. The lights flickered in the corridor again.
“Got everything?” checked Mamo. Jack nodded as he pulled out the emergency trolley and let it roll across the floor. The two of them glanced at each other, then gave a nod and both jumped. The doors slid back into place swiftly just as the lights flickered back on in the basement.
“Thank goodness,” breathed Amber.
Mamo gave a nod of acknowledgment as he glanced at Aaron in the bed. “Everyone okay? I need to go back to the lab and check the machines.”
Amber, Jack and the nurse pushed Aaron into the room in the basement. It only took ten minutes to make sure he was safely set up alongside Zane and that the power supply was working as it should be. The IV infusions with fluids and antibiotics stopped pinging, as did the cardiac monitor and ventilator.
“We’re good.” The nurse nodded. “I’ve phoned one of the ICU doctors and they’re going to base themselves downstairs with us.” She gave a rueful smile. “Don’t worry. I’ve told them to take the stairs.”
Amber walked back over to where she’d abandoned her paperwork. She had to get back on task. Time was ticking.
This was her responsibility and she was in charge. “Jack, how do you feel about making some calls? Let’s do the international ones first. I can give you numbers for the public health agencies in the countries our patients are heading to. Following the patients up will be their responsibility.”
Jack gave a nod. That tiny little feeling she’d had that he might want to take over seemed to flutter away. “Yeah, I’m not sure how long our phone lines will work. Let’s try and do these as quickly as possible. Then we could look at the people who’ve returned to any of the surrounding islands. See if we can get someone local to prescribe and supply the antibiotics.”
She was pleased. He was methodical and logical. Definitely what she needed right now. It was odd to think that last night she’d fallen asleep next to a man she barely knew and now she was working with him in a virtual blackout.
One of the nurses gestured to them. “There’s an office over there. Why don’t you go and try the phones?” She pulled her watch from her pocket. “According to this, we have about ten minutes before the hurricane hits.”
It was like a chill rushing over her body. Should she be scared? Should she actually be terrified? She’d faced plenty of disease disasters, but never a natural one like this. “What happens next? What happens to everyone out there?” she asked the nurse.
“They’ve moved most of the tourists from the beach-front hotels into emergency shelters. Hawaii has a hurricane preparedness guide. Unfortunately we’ve not had the warning time that would normally be in place. Things have changed quickly.”
There was a tiny wave of panic. “Is there anything else I should know about a hurricane?” She hated the fact her voice sounded high-pitched.
“There’s a standard set of instructions.” One of the nurses pulled a leaflet from her bag.
Stay indoors away from windows, skylights and glass doors.
Secure and brace exterior doors. Store as much water as you can.
Close interior doors and take refuge in a small interior room, like a closet or hallway, on the lowest level of your home.
Jack pulled a face. “How do these apply to a hospital?”
The nurse gave a nod. “We’ve moved all the patients away from windows, mostly to the central corridors, and we’ve evacuated the top floor and ground floor. We’re filling the baths and sinks with water to keep the toilets flushing, but the kitchen says it has ample supplies of drinking water.” She closed her eyes for a second. “After that—we pray. This hospital has been standing for thirty years. We’ve had a few hurricanes in that time. We just hope that it will hold together again.”
Amber gulped. “What about the staff? Do you all have to stay?”
She wasn’t thinking about herself. She was thinking about all the local staff that might have families of their own close by to worry about. With the emergency warning coming so late, most of them might not have had time to make plans.
The nurse held out her hands. “We’ll manage. The hospital has an emergency plan. Extra staff get called in as relief. They help transfer the patients and stock the ER. Some of the rest of the staff had to go home to sort out family issues. I came in early to let my friend go home to her disabled mother.” She pointed at the nurse dealing with Aaron. “Nessa only started here a few weeks ago. Her family are on Oahu. She wouldn’t have time to get there, so decided just to lock down here where she could be useful.”
She gave an anxious glance between Amber and Jack. “No matter what your experience, after the hurricane hits, we’ll need doctors. Probably more than you know.”
Jack gave the briefest of nods. His face was serious, but he didn’t seem intimidated at all. “I’d rather be working than holed up in the hotel. Let us sort out what we can about these meningitis cases. After that, put me where you need me.”
The nurse gave a nod. “I’ll phone up to the ER and let them know we might have some additional help.” Her eyebrows rose a little in question. “What will I tell them?”
His voice was firm. “Tell them I’m an army doc and can deal with whatever they need.” His eyes met Amber. “Dr. Berkeley works for the DPA. She’ll help out where she can.”
“Great.” The nurse picked up the phone and turned her back on them.
Amber gulped. For infectious diseases she was fine. But she wasn’t quite as confident as Jack at being thrown in at the deep end. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel capable. She would always help out in an emergency. She wasn’t sure how qualified or equipped she’d be to deal with things. She’d never really worked in an ER setting. She’d been part of team expeditions for the DPA. But she’d never been in charge. Never had the full responsibility herself. But those expeditions had been more coordinated. She’d always ended up working in pre-ready emergency clinics or vaccination hubs.
Her director had already mentioned he thought she was ready to try her hand as a team leader on a field mission to further her experience. But this was entirely different—totally out with her normal expertise. It was almost as if Jack sensed something from her. He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Don’t worry. I’ve got your back.”
Then he did something completely unexpected. He turned her toward him and lowered his forehead onto hers. It was a gesture of security. Of solidarity. Of reassurance.
Warmth spread through her. She looked up and met his gaze. His dark brown eyes were fixed on hers. They were genuine and steady.
She pressed her lips together and took a deep breath, so many thoughts flooding into her mind. Her brain was such a mess. All she could concentrate on was the feel of his hands on the tops of her arms and the gentle way his forehead pressed against hers. His warm breath danced across her skin. Her gaze was naturally lowered and she could see the rise and fall of his chest.
He was a doctor. The type of guy she’d spent most of her life trying to avoid any romantic entanglements with. And this was crazy. She’d already seen a flash of something in him that reminded her of the focused way her father used to be.
So, if she already had alarm bells flashing in her head, why wasn’t she running for the hills? She could pretend it was the hurricane. That the only reason she wasn’t moving was because she was stuck here.
But that wasn’t what was anchoring her feet firmly to the ground.
That wasn’t what was letting the heat from the palms of his hands slowly permeate through her jacket and trickle its way through her body. Her last few boyfriends had been as far removed from medicine as possible—a landscape gardener, then a chef. But somehow she hadn’t felt this. This connection.
And she couldn’t understand it. She’d only met Jack last night. And yes, they’d clicked. There was no doubt the man was attractive. There was no doubt her mind was imagining so many other places they could go.
But the timing wasn’t right. It wasn’t right at all. Her mother’s face flashed into her head. The tired, weary look that had always been visible. The sadness when she’d glanced at a clock and realized Amber’s father wouldn’t be home that night. The endless amount of wasted dinners scraped into a trash can. The times when Amber had sat at the dinner table, desperate to tell her father about her day, and he could barely pay attention—talking over her as he launched into yet another story about work, or surgery, or research. Or when he left the table again as soon as the phone had begun to ring with another call from the hospital.
She’d spent her whole life feeling like an unimportant spare part. Constantly trying to earn the approval of a man who barely knew she existed. When Jack had spoken on the stage earlier on today, he’d had the same conviction, the same passion and dedication as her father.
She sucked in a breath as she realized the similarities between them both.
Having any kind of relationship with Jack Campbell was a complete nonstarter. She’d already lived part of her life being second best in someone’s life. She was determined never to allow herself to be in that position again.
She wanted to step away. She should step away.
But for the briefest of seconds her eyes just fixated on the rise and fall of Jack Campbell’s chest under his fatigues. She tried to focus. She had a purpose. She was a physician. She was here as the representative of her agency. She had a job to do. She could continue to monitor Zane and Aaron to try and keep them stable. To chart the progress of the infection and its reaction to treatments. Information like this was vital right now—nearly as vital as stopping the potential of any spread.
Aaron’s parents might be on the road here and in the path of the hurricane. Her skin prickled. The logical part of her brain told her that these people were Hawaiians. They would know all the emergency plans for hurricanes. They would know how to keep safe. But would they follow their heads or their hearts?
Two years ago she’d had to make a heartbreaking call to another parent. She’d been called to an ER overwhelmed with flu patients. A small child had been admitted straight from school with a history of asthma, difficulty breathing and a high temperature. She’d called the parents and told them they should attend as quickly as possible. They never got there. In their sense of panic they’d been involved in a car accident and it had etched a permanent memory in Amber’s brain and a scar in her heart. If she’d said something different, maybe if she hadn’t let them know the urgency that she was feeling, they might have taken more care.
But the truth was, in the midst of a chaotic ER, she’d held that little girl’s hand—angry that the parents hadn’t got there in time—and tried to assist as they’d attempted to resuscitate her. They’d failed. And then she’d got the news about the parents.
No one had blamed her. No one had needed to. She’d blamed herself.
There were always going to be tough times being a doctor. She knew that. She expected that. But this one had hit her harder than others.
And it had affected her more than she’d realized. Her confidence at work and around others was mainly just bravado. It also helped her erect a shield around herself.
Her heart wasn’t safe. She didn’t feel in a position to form relationships. Not while she felt like this. Not when she couldn’t open herself up to others. It was safer to be single. Safer to surround herself with colleagues who didn’t seem to recognize her detachment, but, instead, thought of it as self-assuredness and confidence.
She told them she didn’t date colleagues and let them think that her life was full of a hundred other potential suitors at any time of the day.
She didn’t tell them that she’d run out of series to watch on her paid Internet TV.
For the briefest of seconds earlier today she’d thought she’d recognized something on Jack’s face.
That expression. That look. A flashback—a haunting. It was momentary. Only lasting a few seconds.
But it made her feel something. A connection.
And even though there was a hurricane outside, that scared her more than anything. So she turned on her heel and walked away.
