Viral

by Robin Cook

  “I don’t know,” Brian said. “Just be with you.”

  “There’s nothing you could have done,” Emma countered. “I also ache all over, and I have a bad headache and a stiff neck. I’ve never felt this terrible.”

  “Can I at least get you an ibuprofen?” He reached out and tried to rub Emma’s back, wanting to help somehow, but she moved away from his touch.

  “I suppose an ibuprofen can’t hurt,” she said, resettling herself in the center of the bed.

  “Have you had a sore throat, cough, or any difficulty breathing?”

  “No,” she said with force. “I know what you’re thinking, but this isn’t coronavirus. I can’t imagine it could be, from what I’ve heard about Covid-19. I also haven’t lost my sense of smell. Nothing like that.”

  “Nonetheless, we will have to get you tested for coronavirus,” Brian said calmly. “We have to rule it out.”

  “Whatever,” Emma said irritably.

  “Are you hungry at all?” he asked. “I’ve brought back almond croissants.”

  “I told you I feel sick to my stomach. Do you really think I’d want an almond croissant?”

  “Okay, okay,” Brian soothed. “I’ll get you an ibuprofen. Maybe two.” He stood up and went into the bathroom to get the pills, and then into the kitchen for a glass of water. He was a little surprised at Emma’s apparent anger. It wasn’t like her in the slightest. Whenever she felt under the weather in the past, she never acted irritated. If anything, she tended to downplay her symptoms.

  After he gave her the pills, she took the medication and then flopped back onto the bed.

  “I’m going to find out where the hospital is out here,” Brian said. “Is there anything I can get for you at the moment?” She merely shook her head and closed her eyes.

  Out in the living room, Brian opened up his laptop to search for the nearest hospital, thinking that would be the easiest way to get Emma tested for coronavirus. Knowing the variability of the Covid-19 symptoms, he wondered why she was so sure she didn’t have it. One way or the other, they needed to know. He also briefly thought about trying to find a local MD but doubted a country doctor could add much to what he already knew. The medical courses he’d taken at the ESU Academy had been extensive, certainly qualifying both him and Emma to be full-fledged EMTs. If he had to guess, he thought that Emma had most likely contracted a case of food poisoning, possibly from the clams they had had for dinner even though he didn’t seem to have any symptoms. What he hoped was that within twenty-four hours or so, she would be on the mend.

  It didn’t take long for him to find out what he needed, and after he had, he returned to the bedroom. She was lying on her back in the center of the bed with her eyes closed.

  “Emma?” Brian whispered. If she had fallen asleep, he didn’t want to wake her.

  “What?” she said without opening her eyes.

  “The closest hospital is Cape Cod Hospital,” Brian said. “It’s in Hyannis, which is forty-five minutes away. I suggest we drive to the hospital as soon as you feel up to it. The sooner you have a coronavirus test, the sooner we’ll get the results.”

  “I don’t want to go to some fly-by-night hospital out here in the sticks.” She looked up at him with her hazel eyes on fire.

  “I don’t think you’re being fair,” Brian argued. “From what I’ve read online, it seems it’s held in reasonably high esteem. Besides, at the moment all we’re looking for is a coronavirus test.”

  “No way! I want to go back to New York. If I need a hospital, I want a real hospital.”

  “You really want to go home today?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Emma snapped. “I don’t like how I feel and I’m worried I might get worse. This isn’t just some cold.”

  “Okay, okay,” Brian said reassuringly. “We’ll head back today. I’ll pack our stuff, load the car, and strap on the bikes and the kayak. Try to take it easy in the meantime.”

  CHAPTER 3

  August 19

  Packing all their belongings and loading the car took a lot longer than Brian had anticipated. Part of the problem was having to deal with Juliette. Emma’s irritability particularly disturbed Juliette, who didn’t seem to understand why she was being ignored by her mother. As a consequence, he had to spend a lot of time trying to console her and keep her occupied. What worked the best was getting Juliette intimately involved with the packing and loading, but the problem was that it then took far longer than if Brian had been able to do it all on his own.

  It was just after eleven when they were finally able to pull out of the driveway and start the five-hour drive back to the Big Apple. Since Juliette’s car seat was behind the driver’s side, Brian was able to lower Emma’s seat back to a reclined position. He’d made some sandwiches and stocked the cooler with water and fruit juice for their ride. He wanted to get Emma home as soon as possible.

  For most of the way Brian was on his own, as Juliette was watching cartoons and Emma was sleeping, with her head on the pillow pressed up against the side of the car. A bit of perspiration dotted her forehead, indicating her fever was persisting.

  The quiet gave Brian more time to worry anew about the condition of Personal Protection LLC. As he had confessed to Emma, being on vacation in a totally new location had made it possible for him to put work completely out of his mind. But now that they were heading home, all his concerns came flooding back. The reality was that very few wealthy businesspeople who needed security were traveling into the city because of the pandemic, and with the expected fall surge that probably wasn’t going to change. All he could hope for was that one of the rare inquiries they’d gotten about the high-profile fall weddings would pan out to be an actual gig. For that reason, he was looking forward to finding out from Camila if there had been any movement whatsoever toward a possible commitment.

  Although traffic had only been moderate without any significant delays, he felt definite relief when they reached the Henry Hudson Bridge. It meant they were almost home, and he was anxious to get Emma into bed and take her temperature. A small amount of sweat had continued to dot her forehead for the entire trip, and he also knew that Juliette was nearing the absolute end of her patience while strapped into her car seat.

  So when disaster struck, Brian’s mind was completely absorbed by the details of how he would manage getting both Emma and Juliette out of the car and into the house efficiently. The first hint of a calamity was a peculiar rhythmic thumping coming from someplace under the car’s dash. Within seconds he was aware of movement to his right that coincided with the noise. As his eyes darted in that direction, he realized to his horror that Emma was caught in the agonal throes of what could only be a seizure. Her feet and legs alternately pounded against both the underside of the dashboard and the floorboards of the car. At the same time, she was grotesquely arching her back, straining against her seat belt with her arms wildly flailing and her head slamming again and again against the car’s window.

  Practically losing control of the car as he ducked away from Emma’s pummeling left hand, Brian fought with the steering wheel as the vehicle heaved from side to side, tires screeching. The instant he regained control, he slammed on the brakes and with difficulty managed to pull to the side of the road despite angry honking and rude gestures from other drivers. By now, Juliette was screaming.

  From his EMT lectures, he knew he had to keep her from injuring herself until her seizure abated, and thankfully the car’s seat belt helped. His biggest concern was her head, which he was able to keep away from the car’s metal frame, letting it hit up against the pillow during her violent contractions. With his other hand he tried to keep her powerful legs from injuring themselves against the dash. The fact that she was in such good physical shape made it that much more difficult. Brian had to use all the strength he had.

  Although at the time it seemed interminable, finally her contract
ions lessened and then abated altogether, and Brian could let her sag back against the seat and the car’s door with her head against the window. Instinctively he knew it had only been a couple of minutes. A bit of blood trickled from her mouth, suggesting she had bitten her tongue, but he could see that she was breathing normally again.

  He straightened up in his seat and quickly unbuckled his seat belt. Juliette was crying uncontrollably in the back, so after leaping out of the car, Brian opened the back door, leaned in, and enveloped his daughter in his arms. He told her over and over that all was okay, that Mommy was fine, and that they would take her to the hospital.

  “Now Daddy has to keep driving, okay, sweetheart?” Brian soothed at length when Juliette’s tears lessened. Gently he removed her arms from around his head.

  Somewhat reluctantly, Juliette let him straighten up. After he gave her shoulder another reassuring squeeze, he got back into the front seat and checked Emma again. She was awake, but seemed disoriented. He told her that they were almost home but that he was going to take her to the hospital, the same hospital where Juliette had been born. He also told her that she had just had a seizure, to which she nodded but didn’t respond audibly.

  After exiting the Henry Hudson Parkway at the Dyckman Street exit, it was only a short drive to the Inwood campus of the Manhattan Memorial Hospital. Like all New York City boroughs, Inwood had several hospitals. The Murphys had chosen the MMH, as it was known in the neighborhood, for Juliette’s birth because it was where Emma had had her tonsils removed when she was a child. It was also familiar to Brian. During his second year as an NYPD patrolman, he’d been assigned to the 34th Precinct for a number of months to fill in for someone on sick leave and in that capacity had spent quite a bit of time at the hospital, particularly getting some work on many of his days and evenings off. It had been a way for him to make extra money, as the hospital liked having a uniformed officer on-site. He had spent enough time there that he’d even gotten to know a few of the doctors and nurses on a first-name basis.

  “Is Mommy going to stay at the hospital?” Juliette asked as Brian turned off Broadway onto the hospital grounds.

  “I doubt it,” he said. “But we have to see what the doctors say. We just want to make sure she’s okay.”

  Brian drove up to the Emergency Department entrance and pulled to a stop at the ambulance dock.

  “Emma, how are you doing now?” he asked. “Are you okay walking into the hospital or do you want me to get a gurney for you?”

  “I’m okay,” she said in a monotone, speaking up for the first time since the seizure.

  “Are you sure?” To Brian she still seemed somewhat disoriented, certainly not herself. Even though she didn’t answer, he got out of the car, got Juliette out, and walked around to the passenger side. When he opened the door, Emma made no effort to move, so he reached in and undid her seat belt. He then made sure they all had their face masks on.

  “All right,” he said. “Let’s get you inside.” Gently he encouraged her to climb out of the car and with somewhat unsteady legs she walked into the ED holding Brian’s hand for support.

  CHAPTER 4

  August 19

  As it was 4:30 and getting close to dinnertime, the Emergency Department was only moderately busy. The Murphys had to stand for a short time at the information counter, but when Brian explained why they were there, a pleasant triage nurse immediately ushered them into a treatment cubicle and encouraged Emma to lie down. As she took Emma’s vital signs and got more of a history, a clerk who had accompanied them got their name and health insurance information. The clerk also got Brian to sign a permission-for-treatment form. Once the paperwork was done, Brian and Juliette hurried back outside to deal with the car.

  At the car Juliette started crying inconsolably, demanding that she wanted her mommy through near hysterical tears. Although normally quite patient with his daughter, Brian felt unnerved himself, and when she refused to get into her car seat, he had to forcibly control himself. Doing so made him realize that he needed some backup. Although he could have called his mother, Aimée, he chose to call Camila, who’d become almost a surrogate mother for Juliette over the previous five months. As he expected, Camila was horrified when she learned what had happened to Emma and immediately offered to come over to MMH to take charge of Juliette.

  “Okay, sweetie pie,” he said to Juliette as he disconnected the call. With help on the way, he felt he had a better hold on his emotions. “Camila is coming to take you home.”

  Juliette greeted this news with even more forceful tears, but Brian took it in stride. He knew she would feel better as soon as she was back in familiar surroundings. He picked up Juliette and held her close to comfort her, and though she continued to cry with less intensity, she still pressed her face into the crook of his neck and hugged him forcibly.

  In just a little more than ten minutes, Camila arrived. A moment later she was reaching out for Juliette, who was happy to transfer from Brian’s arms to Camila’s. “Oh, my poor baby,” she said while hugging the child. It was obvious she had a strong maternal instinct, and he greatly appreciated her presence in his life in moments like this.

  Camila was a thirty-two-year-old first-generation Cuban American with an engaging, upbeat personality, a ready smile, and frequent laughter. She looked more like a teenager than an adult, especially with her preferred dress being fashionably ripped jeans. She was of medium height and build with long dark hair parted in the middle and an olive complexion that both Brian and Emma coveted, as she never had to bother with sunblock. Like Brian and Emma, she had spent most of her life in Inwood, and they shared some common friends. The difference was that she had grown up on the predominantly Latino east side of Broadway whereas Brian and Emma had been on the largely Irish west side.

  Like Brian, Camila had gone to Adelphi University but had majored in business, which was the reason she’d responded to Brian and Emma’s employment search. They had specified that they were looking for someone to help with a startup security business. Luckily for both parties, from day one it had seemed a match made in heaven since Camila’s business know-how complemented Brian and Emma’s law enforcement experience. When the pandemic exploded in the New York area in March, asking Camila to move in was an easy decision, as was her decision to accept. She had several aging grandparents living at home with serious health issues whom she wanted to avoid putting at risk.

  “I’ll be home with Emma as soon as possible,” Brian told her as he gave Juliette Bunny, which she grabbed and enveloped with a bear hug.

  “No worries,” she said. “I’ll grab dinner and make sure Juliette is occupied.”

  “I can’t thank you enough. You’re a lifesaver.”

  After watching Camila drive away and knowing Juliette was being taken care of, he felt significantly more at ease and capable of dealing with the situation. The first thing he did was go back to the check-in counter to ask if there was any information available on his wife, but all he was told was that the doctor would be out to talk to him shortly.

  Brian took a seat as far away from other people as he could, which required moving to the end of the room since the ED was already busier than it had been only fifteen minutes earlier. From his previous experience at the hospital as a uniformed patrolman, he remembered there was always a buildup of activity just before and then another after dinner.

  The time passed slowly. To entertain himself he took out his phone, and with some reluctance he called his mother, Aimée. He knew that, as the family matriarch, she would be very upset and insist on helping, possibly by offering to come directly to the hospital, even though it would probably cause more stress than good. But he felt an obligation to let her know what was happening. She answered with her lilting and charming French accent, which she had never lost.

  Aimée had grown up in the northern part of France—Normandy, to be exact—and had come to the Unite
d States forty-one years ago to attend prestigious Barnard College. It was there that she had met Brian’s father, who happened at the time to be attending Columbia University on a sports scholarship. Aimée’s maiden name was Juliette, a somewhat rare family name even in France, and in her honor Emma and Brian had named their daughter Juliette.

  Brian evaded any small talk with Aimée, immediately telling her that he was calling from the MMH ED because Emma had suffered a seizure in the car as they drove into Manhattan following her sudden flu-like symptoms from the morning.

  “Oh, my goodness. I’m so sorry to hear,” Aimée said with concern. “Is she all right now?”

  “There’s been no word yet from the doctors,” he informed her. “She is being seen as we speak. She walked in under her own power but seemed somewhat disoriented.”

  “Do you think she has coronavirus?” Aimée asked.

  “I hope not,” Brian said. “Actually, I don’t think so because she didn’t have any of the big three symptoms, like cough, difficulty breathing, or loss of sense of smell. But who knows? She did have a fever. We’ll have to see.”

  “And where’s Juliette?”

  “Camila came to pick her up just a few minutes ago. We’ve only been here an hour or so.”

  “How about you? Are you okay?”

  “I’m hanging in there,” he said. “Though I’ll admit it’s been a bit unnerving. This is the first time I’ve ever really seen Emma sick.”

  “I can well imagine you’d feel out of sorts. Do you want me to come and keep you company?”

  “It’s not necessary,” Brian said. “I’m doing okay now that Juliette is being taken care of. Besides, the hospital is discouraging family visitors with the pandemic going on for obvious reasons. I promise I’ll let you know as soon as I know anything.”

  “D’accord,” Aimée said. She had a habit of sprinkling French expressions into her conversations. “I’ll call Emma’s mother and let her know. Of course, she may want to come to the ED. You know Hannah has a mind of her own.”