Locked Down With The Army Doc: Locked Down with the Army Doc / The Brooding Surgeon's Baby Bombshell. Scarlet WilsonЧитать онлайн книгу.
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?”