She hesitated for a few seconds then rolled her eyes and waved her hand. “There’s no point hiding it. If you search up my name you’ll find the whole news headlines. A very long time ago, when social media was a mere babe, and I was working as an intern, I met a fellow medic.” She lifted her fingers. “And I clicked.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “You clicked? Oh, no. You’re not getting away with that. What happened to the No Doctors rule?”

She sighed. “Let’s just say this was a huge contribution to the No Doctors rule.”

“Tell me more.”

She gave a slow rueful nod and held up her hands. He couldn’t quite work out the expression on her face; it was a mixture of sad, exasperated and just...tired. “I was duped, I admit it. Or I was charmed.”

“How charmed?” He was definitely curious. Amber didn’t seem like the kind of girl to be either duped or charmed. Maybe there was a reason for the slightly brash exterior?

“Charmed enough to plan a wedding.” She stopped for a second. “My father was a very accomplished surgeon, notorious for only picking the best of the best for his residents. He was also notoriously sexist. There were no women on his team. Charles used me, to get to him.” The words were matter-of-fact, but the way that she said them wasn’t.

“He did?” Jack couldn’t help the wave of disgust that swept over him and the way his heart twisted a little for her. “So what happened?”

She shrugged. “I found out on the morning of the wedding via an overheard conversation in the local hairdresser that he’d been boasting about getting on my father’s team, and worming his way in through me.”

“I thought women were supposed to drink champagne on the morning of their wedding.”

“Oh, I was drinking champagne as they pinned my hair up. I thought about it all the way home. I thought about it all the time I stepped into my dress and little things came into my head, like a giant jigsaw puzzle slotting into place. By the time I reached the church and saw him standing at the top of the aisle, the smug expression on his face told me everything I needed to know. I turned on my heels, picked up my dress and ran.”

“You ran?” He couldn’t actually believe it.

She gave a small nod. “Do an Internet search of Milwaukee Runaway Bride. That’s me.” A long slow breath hissed out from her lips. “Not really something I want to put on my résumé.” Her eyes looked up and met his. She gave a half shrug. “I hate the thought of people reading that about me online. It’s like a permanent stain on my character.”

She put her hands up to her forehead as if it ached, closing her eyes for a second. It was obvious she found this hard.

But she was being honest. He appreciated that. What would he have thought if he’d read this online? Probably, that she was a bit of an idiot, or that she was an attention seeker. Hearing it in person from her was an entirely different experience. He could tell that the whole experience had changed her.

“Regrets?” The words were out before he really thought about them, but Amber quickly shook her head as she lifted it from her hands.

“No. My father never spoke to me again. Nor did Charles. But then again, Charles lost his job the next day.”

“You never spoke to your father again?”

She shook her head again but didn’t look sad. Her words were more assured. “No. I was the ultimate disappointment. But then again, no matter how well I did, I’d always known that.”

He could almost see her physically bristle.

“What kind of surgeon was he?”

“Renal. Top of his game—until the day he died.”

“He wasn’t proud that his daughter was a doctor too?”

“Don’t think he even noticed.” Her answer was short and snappy. “Truth was, I wasn’t a boy. By the time I realized how little respect my father had for me, and my mother, I was done with him anyhow. He died a few years later and it actually set my mother free.”

Jack was a little surprised at her words but at least now he had half an understanding about her No Doctor rule. Of course, it didn’t make sense. But in her head, it did.

Then she took a deep breath and shook her head. “Let’s change the subject.” It was clear there was a lot more to this, but he could tell that she’d shared enough, and he respected her for that.

Her blue eyes met his and she sat up a little straighter in her chair, tilting her head at him. It was like a shock wave. When the anger and resentment left her face, Amber Berkeley was stunning. “You said last night you should probably be schmoozing. You’re almost not in the army now. What’s your plans, soldier?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Why, are you offering me a job?”

She straightened her back and narrowed her gaze, imitating some kind of stern interviewer. “Well, let’s see. I know your qualifications. I know you’re from Scotland. I know you appear to be quite bright, and maybe even a little bit of a humanitarian.” She put her elbows on the table and leaned toward him. “Think you could cut it at the DPA?”

He gave a lazy kind of smile. “Not if you call chips fries.”

She sighed and waved her hand. “Oh, well, that’s it. Interview fail. I’m sorry, Dr. Campbell—looks like you have to work on your interpersonal skills.”

He nodded in agreement. In the corner of the room one of the conference staff had a phone in her hand and was talking quietly to one of the waiters and pointing toward their table. After a few seconds she approached. “Dr. Berkeley?”

Amber turned around in surprise. “Yes?”

“Would you mind taking a call from one of your colleagues from the DPA?”

Amber stared down at her bag for a few seconds, and then her face crumpled. “Darn it. I switched off my phone before I came down because I knew I’d be in the auditorium. I hope nothing is wrong.”

She held out her hand for the phone. “This is Dr. Berkeley.” He heard it instantly. The change in her tone, her professional persona slipping back into place. He wondered if he should move to let her take the call in privacy, but she didn’t seem to mind the fact they were still sitting together.

“Hi, Warren. Yes. No. Really?”

He watched as he could see her concentrating. After a few seconds she fumbled around in her bag. Jack reached into his fatigues and pulled out his pocketbook and pen, pushing them across the table toward her. She nodded gratefully as she flicked open the book and started to scribble. “Yip, what’s the name? Oh...how awful. Which strain? Yes. Do you have a contact at the local agency? At the admitting hospital? Okay. Can Drew give me a lab contact I can work with? I might have more experience at identifying the strain. Sure, no problem.” She glanced outside at the darkening sky. “No.” She gave a little smile, then met his gaze. “Things have been a little different than expected. Let me get on this.” She clicked the phone and sighed as she set it down on the table.

“Something wrong?”

She nodded. “A new unidentified strain of meningitis. One affected teenager. A request for assistance has been made to the DPA and since I’m here...”

She let her voice tail off. Jack spoke carefully. “It’s your specialty area—of course they should call you.”

She nodded. “I know. I’m lucky it’s meningitis. In the DPA you have to do a bit of everything. I’ve been in Africa looking at polio and sleeping sickness, Chicago, when we thought we might have a smallpox outbreak, and Washington and Texas for flu.” She gave a resigned kind of smile. “We get all over.” She stared over toward one of the windows. “Let’s just hope it’s only one case. I’m here by myself. If there’s any more and it turns into an outbreak, contact tracing could be a nightmare.”

It was all he needed to hear and he made his mind up instantly. Jack was never going to schmooze his way around this conference trying to find a suitable job. No matter how much his head told him he should, it just wasn’t in him to do it. He couldn’t do it. He was far more interested in finding out more about the woman sitting opposite him. It had been so long since he’d felt like this. She was sparking his interest in so many ways—so many ways that he hadn’t acknowledged in such a long time. He stood up. “Okay, then, let’s go.”

Amber’s eyes widened. “What?”

He shrugged. “No point in you going alone. And I guess you could always do with another pair of hands even though it’s not my specialty. If it turns into more than one case, you’ll need help. I can be that help. Why don’t you change, I’ll grab a few things from my room and I’ll meet you back down here in ten minutes?”

Amber looked a bit lost for words. She waved her hand toward the doors to the foyer. “But don’t you have to work the room, find a job?”

“I just flunked my last interview.” He gave her a wink. “I’ve been told I need to work on my people skills. No time like the present to start.”

She stood up and picked up her bag. “Are you sure about this?”

He gave the briefest of nods. “Let’s face it. You’re the most interesting person I’ve met here. Better stick around.”

He could swear that was relief on her face. “Okay, then, Dr. Campbell. I’ll meet you in ten.”

* * *

She’d never changed so quickly—just kicked off her heels and let her expensive suit crumple across a chair. She pulled on a pair of stretchy dark trousers, a short-sleeved shirt and a pair of flats. Because her wardrobe was mainly formal clothes for the conference—none of which she wanted to wear to the local hospital—she grabbed her least formal jacket, a khaki military-style one. She shook her head as she pulled it on. At this rate, she and Jack would look like a matching pair.

She dumped her purse and stuffed her wallet, phone and notebook into a small backpack. She’d learned over the years to travel lightly.

She still couldn’t believe he’d volunteered to come with her but she was secretly pleased. It didn’t matter that she was confident in her practice. It didn’t matter that she’d handled contact tracing for meningitis on numerous occasions. This was the first time she’d actually represented the DPA on her own. And it made her a tiny bit nervous. But from what little she knew of Jack Campbell, she hoped he would have her back.

He was already waiting as she walked back out to the main foyer. It was busier than she’d expected. Filled with anxious faces. Jack was standing among some other people.

“What’s happening?” she asked.

“Look at that rain.”

“What did they say about a weather warning?”

“I’ve never seen black clouds like that before. What happened to the sun?”

Jack was still wearing his fatigues; for the second time she tried not to notice how well they suited him. He smiled as he noticed her similar garb. “Are we ready to get started? I think we should move. Something seems to be happening.”

She nodded. “We need to go to the Hawaii Outbreak Center and Lahuna State Hospital.”

They walked across the foyer and out to the hotel main entrance. Both of the suited doormen were standing inside. They looked at her in surprise. “What’s your destination?”

Almost immediately the sharp wind whipped her ponytail around her face and she had to brace her feet to the ground. She glanced around as her jacket and shirt buffeted against her. Rain thudded all around her, bouncing off the ground. The streets were almost empty and she could feel the stinging sand on her cheeks picked up from the beach across the road. All of the straw beach umbrellas had tipped over and were rolling precariously around. No one seemed keen on rescuing them.

Hawaii had never looked like this in any of the photographs she’d seen.

The doorman looked down at the deserted street. When she’d arrived the day before it had been packed with cars and taxis.

He gave a wave. “Come back inside and I’ll call for a car. It may take a while. We’ve just had a six-hour emergency hurricane warning. The hotel is just about to make an announcement. All residents are going to be asked to stay inside. Could your journey wait? It’s unlikely flights will be taking off anytime soon.”

“What?”

Jack’s voice echoed her own. A wave of panic came over her. Did this mean she couldn’t get to her patient?

She shook her head. The doorman was obviously assuming the only place people would try to get to right now was the airport. “I’m a doctor. I have to go to the Hawaii Outbreak Center then Lahuna State Hospital. I have to consult on a meningitis case.”

The doorman gave her a solemn nod and didn’t try to put her off any further. “Give me five minutes. I can get my brother-in-law to pick you up.” He drew in a deep breath as he picked up a phone at his desk and dialed the number. “You might have to be prepared to lock down wherever you reach. Once we’re on hurricane alert everyone is instructed to stay safe.”

Jack stepped forward. “I knew that the weather was looking bad, but when did they issue the hurricane warning?”

“Just in the last ten minutes. It seems to have picked up force somewhere in the mid Pacific. Apparently the hurricane has taken an unexpected sharp turn. We usually have more time to prepare. All hotels have been contacted and the news stations are broadcasting instructions.”

“Is it normal to be so late letting people know?”

The doorman shook his head. “We usually have between thirty-six hours and twenty-four hours to prepare. We have statewide plans for hurricanes, but the truth is, Hawaii has only been affected by four hurricanes in the last sixty years. Tropical storms? Oh, they’re much more common.”

Jack met her worried gaze. She’d been in crisis situations before, but usually for some kind of an infectious disease—not for a natural disaster. It was almost as if he could sense her fleeting second of panic. He put his hand at the back of her waist and nodded toward the doorman. “Thank you so much for doing this. We’re only going out because we have to and we’ll be happy to lock down wherever appropriate.”

Ten minutes later a taxicab appeared. They watched as a few large gusts buffeted it from side to side on the road. The doorman handed them a card with numbers. “We’ll be keeping an inventory of guests in the hotel as we do the lockdown. I’ve noted where you’re going and here’s some contact numbers if you need them. Good luck.”

They climbed quickly into the back of the cab and Amber leaned forward to give the driver instructions. The roof of the hotel pickup point rattled above them. The driver listened to her then rapidly shook his head, gesturing toward the empty streets. “No. Pick one or the other. Which is the most important? We don’t have enough time to take you to both.”

Amber blew out a breath and turned to face Jack. “If the phones are still functioning I could call the Outbreak Center. It’s more important to be where the patient and lab are, particularly if I want to try and identify the strain.”

She didn’t mind batting off him. It was always useful to throw ideas back and forward with another doctor and he had a completely different kind of experience from her—one that was more likely to be suited to this.

He nodded seriously as his eyes took in the weather around him. “Sounds like a plan.”

She leaned forward to the driver. “Can you get us to Lahuna State Hospital?”

The driver nodded. “It’s near the city center. We should get there soon.”

The cab wove through the streets and high-rise buildings. There were a few people practically being carried along by the wind as they rushed to get places. Some stores were already closed, shutters down and all street wares brought back inside.

A large white building with dark windows emerged through the rain. The main doors and ambulance bay had their doors closed, with security staff visible through the glass. They unlocked the door as Jack and Amber jumped from the cab.

“We’ve had to close the automatic doors,” one told her. “The wind is just too strong and a member of the public has already been injured.”

Amber gave him a grateful smile as he locked the door behind them. “Can you direct me to Infectious Diseases? I’ve been called about a patient.”

“Third floor. Elevators at the end of the corridor. Take a right when you get out.”

The hospital was eerily quiet, the main foyer deserted as they made their way through. But as they reached the corridor in the heart of the hospital they could see uniformed staff swiftly moving patients and talking in hushed, urgent voices. “I wonder if the windows will be okay?” said Jack thoughtfully as they reached the elevators.

“What?” She pressed the button to call the elevator.

“The windows.” Jack looked around him even though there were no windows nearby. “A place like this? It must have around, what—three hundred windows? How on earth do you police that in the middle of a hurricane?”

Amber blinked. She hadn’t even thought about anything like that at all. “The hotel too. Do you think they’ll tell people to leave their rooms?”

The doors slid open. “They must all have disaster plans. Won’t they just take everyone to a central point in a building, somewhere they can hunker down?”

He could almost read her mind. Both of them had rooms at the hotel that they’d literally just abandoned with no thought to the impending hurricane. If they’d had a bit more warning she might have closed her curtains and stashed her computer and valuables somewhere safer. Who knew what they would return to later?

They stepped inside and she pressed the button for the third floor. It only took a few moments to reach there and the doors to the infectious disease unit. Amber reached for the scrub on the wall outside before she entered, rubbing it over her hands.

She could already see through the glass that the unit looked in chaos.

She turned to face Jack before she pressed the entrance buzzer. “Ready?”

She felt a tiny glimmer of trepidation. She was it. She was the sole representative for the DPA. Was she asking him, or herself?

But Jack didn’t hesitate for a second. “Absolutely. Lead the way.”

CHAPTER THREE

FROM 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.

Poprzedni 1 234 5 Kolejny

Locked Down With The Army Doc

Osoby, który wyszukiwały tego autora, czytały również

Inne książki tego autora