Pathogen

by Jessica L. Webb

  “I’ll see you in the morning,” she said.

  “Sweet dreams, Katie,” Jack said as she passed him on the way out the door.

  Kate impulsively leaned down and gave him a kiss on the cheek, making him blush. “Thanks for your help today,” she said.

  “You’re welcome,” he said, sweetly flustered.

  Kate hooked her mask back over her ears as she left the boardroom and made her way slowly back up the stairs to Ward B.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was impossible not to breathe in time with a ventilator, though there was nothing calming about its predictable rhythm. Unlike falling asleep with someone, when your breathing unconsciously fell in synch with the person beside you, listening to the ventilator was slightly alarming. The machine was too forceful, each controlled breath slightly delayed but also too sudden. Other than the fact that it was keeping Jackson Ross alive, there was nothing peaceful about it.

  Kate sat between Jackson and Trent Ross for a long time, dawn filling the room with a faintly orange glow. She’d slept in the small, cold on-call room, uneasily, lightly, but she had slept. Part of her had stayed on alert, waiting for the nurse to come in and wake her up, listening for the code blue over the intercom. Kate knew she couldn’t lose another patient. She needed to keep every Ward B patient alive, to carry them through the effects of this virus and see them out the other side. When she’d woken alone just before five, the weight on her shoulders had felt enormous.

  Jackson Ross’s monitor beeped, and Kate silenced it. He was ready for more meds. She checked his drainage output, noting the slow trickle of fluid. It had remained slow since the initial flood after Eric had inserted the drain, but it was enough to raise his O2 sats. Kate wondered about taking him off the ventilator. She worried, she questioned, she debated. No clear answer, so she sat back down, the sharp puff of air from the ventilator forcing her to draw in her own, shallow breath.

  “How’s he doing?”

  Trent Ross struggled to sit up in his own hospital bed. She immediately went to him and put a hand on his shoulder to have him lie back down again. She pressed the button to raise the head of the bed. His dark hair was no longer neatly parted, and his perfect smile came slower, no longer lighting up his pale face.

  “Holding steady,” Kate said to him. “He had a good night.” She took her stethoscope from around her neck and held it up. Trent nodded resignedly and Kate listened to his chest, making a picture of the free-flowing fluid in his lungs. Satisfied, Kate let him lie back again.

  “My asthma was always worse than his,” Trent said, adjusting the pillow awkwardly behind his head, looking over at his younger brother. “For the longest time I thought he played his up, just so he could get as much attention as me. It took me a while to figure out he didn’t want me to be alone while he ran around with his friends.”

  “Doesn’t sound like your usual bratty brother type,” Kate said quietly.

  “He was that, too. We spent a lot of time together as kids, obviously. My dad taught us about stocks and trading before I was ten, trying to keep us entertained. Guess that worked in our favour.” He shrugged and let out a loud, drawn-out cough. Kate watched him struggle through it, his shoulders shaking, his head hanging low. She realized he was trying to stay quiet, concerned about waking up his brother. A sharp edge of sadness wedged itself in Kate’s chest. The cough passed, and Trent Ross looked up at Kate. “Is he going to stay on the ventilator?”

  “I haven’t decided. Let’s see how he does this morning. Why don’t you try to sleep? Breakfast is still another hour away,” Kate said, standing.

  “It would be nice to talk to him again, if only to complain about the food,” he said and leaned back against the overstuffed pillows, closing his eyes.

  Kate left the room, followed her own well-worn path to the next room. Harris Trenholm was still asleep. His vitals had drifted down again, dancing the line of instability. She let him be, knowing he’d be awake soon enough, taking calls and trying to work on his laptop. At least, Kate very much hoped that would be the case.

  Serena was awake, lying on her side and looking out the window when Kate quietly entered her room.

  “Good morning,” Kate said quietly.

  Serena blinked her acknowledgement, but didn’t say anything.

  “How did you sleep?” Kate asked, checking her vitals.

  “Crappy,” Serena said, her voice low.

  Kate frowned down at the pale girl. “Are you having trouble breathing?”

  Serena took a minute to answer. “A little,” she finally admitted.

  Kate grabbed the mask hanging over the oxygen monitor and handed it to Serena. She put it on without protest, and Kate adjusted the flow. Kate pulled up a stool, not saying anything, the only sound in the room the hissing of the high-flow oxygen.

  “Thanks,” Serena said eventually. “Kate, am I getting worse?”

  Kate very much wanted to know the answer to that question herself. “You’re still recovering from pneumonia, so it’s complicating your body’s ability to fight the new virus,” Kate explained. “Take my advice, use the oxygen whenever you need to. Don’t make your body work so hard.”

  Serena nodded and turned to look out the window again.

  Kate headed to the nurse’s station and told the nurse about Jackson’s meds needing to be changed. Then Kate lifted her arms above her head and stretched, pulling in a deep breath before checking the clock on the wall. It was twenty to seven; the rest of the day shift would be coming on any time. Kate suddenly wanted to be outside, to pull down her mask and breathe in real air. She felt like she’d been on this ward for days, not just overnight.

  Walking down the stairs and out the doors, Kate wondered if Andy had slept in, or gone for her run, or had stopped to eat breakfast. She knew she had most likely stayed up late working, going over case notes, writing reports, and following up on the details of the entire PHEM team.

  As soon as Kate stepped outside, she could tell the cold snap had broken. A light, warm breeze, just at the edge of cool, met her as she walked out the front doors. The sun was making its climb over the mountain behind the hospital, its yellow rays shooting up into the sky. It was going to be a beautiful day, but she wouldn’t get to see it. Not with the four sick patients, whatever chaos the ER was going to throw at them, and a meeting with a deceased patient’s husband. The thought made Kate sag against the wall beside her, the chill of the stone a shocking contrast to the warmth of the morning sun. Kate closed her eyes and leaned her head back for a moment, breathing in the fresh air. When she opened her eyes again she looked around. It was all familiar, this building and that tree-covered mountain behind her and the slant of the sun as it rose. But it was strange, this familiarity, how quickly she could acclimatize to her surroundings, immerse herself in the people and the environment. Taking off her mask completely and shoving it in her pocket, Kate remembered her conversation with Andy outside RCMP headquarters in Vancouver. Andy had considered Kate’s ability to blend in an asset, as if it was a skill Kate had learned and honed. Right now, though, it felt like nothing more than a survival technique, a practice she’d adopted out of necessity.

  As another gust of warm wind whipped around the side of the building, Kate closed her eyes again, let the thoughts drift out of her head.

  “I didn’t know you were into morning meditation.”

  Andy’s voice was sweet, welcome, and made Kate smile before she’d even opened her eyes.

  “I’m not into morning anything, you know that,” Kate replied, opening her eyes to see Andy walking up to her, handing her one of the two coffees she was holding. Kate caught the scent of Andy’s shampoo and watched the morning sunlight glint off her hair.

  “I know nothing of the sort,” Andy said, leaning in to kiss her.

  Andy’s kiss was gentle, sweet, but Kate pulled her in suddenly and kissed her back with an intensity that startled them both. She needed this, needed Andy’s touch to blot out the crowdin
g awful fear that lurked so close to the surface. Kate felt it again, that weight that seemed to hang just over her head. It shifted slightly, dangerously. She pulled away from Andy with a small gasp.

  “Kate? You okay?” Andy’s eyes were now cloudy with longing and concern.

  “Yeah,” Kate breathed out. Her heart wouldn’t settle. The shock of cold and warm, desire and fear, the effort to speak and stay silent. “Long night.”

  Andy stayed silent, her free hand still on Kate’s hip. Kate felt the warmth of her touch and willed that feeling to spread through her whole body.

  “Guess we should get the day started,” Kate said finally.

  As they walked together into the hospital, Kate felt for the edges of calm and tried to imagine a time when no weight existed in the world.

  *

  Al Sedlak’s hand shook slightly as he set down the tray of cream and sugar. They were sitting at the kitchen table, and Kate pressed her hands against the wood, feeling the bumps and divots of a well-used table. It fit perfectly in this two-story red brick home, just off the main street of town. It spoke of craftsmanship and age and family.

  “Coffee’s coming right up, should just be a moment,” the man said, lowering himself into a chair.

  Kate studied him as he sat. He was clean-shaven, his grey hair combed, a button-up shirt tucked neatly into belted pants. He looked very together for someone who had so recently lost his wife of forty-six years. Though Al Sedlak wasn’t her patient, she still mentally went through her checklist, evaluating how well he was coping with his grief.

  “How are you doing, Mr. Sedlak?” Kate leaned forwards a little in her chair.

  “I’m managing, that’s about all I can say,” he said with a small, tired smile.

  “I imagine that’s a full-time job some days,” Kate said in a soft, understanding voice.

  Al Sedlak studied her with his blue, watery eyes. “Yes, that it is. But my Roberta told me when she first got sick that I had exactly one week to fall apart and wallow after she passed. And then she expected me to shower every morning, put on clean clothes, and pick up the papers from the end of the driveway.”

  “Sounds like she was a very practical woman,” Kate said with a smile.

  “Yes,” he responded with a small laugh. “Always practical.” His shoulders slumped suddenly, his body listing forwards, leaning his weight on his arms. He ran a shaky hand over his eyes. “Sorry, I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice thin.

  “No need to apologize,” Kate told him gently. “I’m sorry we’re bothering you at such a difficult time.” She placed a hand on his arm, giving him a moment to recover.

  “I understand you are trying to track the virus that’s spreading through Hidden Valley,” the man finally said, looking up. Kate must have looked surprised because he gave her a smile. “My wife was a newsophile, especially local or provincial news. So I’ve been keeping up with what’s going on.” He stopped and looked between Kate and Andy. “I suppose you think that’s morbid, don’t you?”

  “Not at all, Mr. Sedlak,” Andy assured him. “I happen to think curiosity is the sign of an active mind.”

  “You would have gotten along well with Roberta, then,” he said, seeming happy to make a connection. “So, go ahead and ask the questions you came to ask.” He straightened his shoulders, sitting up a little in his chair.

  “We are trying to track the movement of the five original patients who contracted the virus,” Kate started, after a slight nod from Andy at the end of the table. “So far, we can place four of the patients at the Fullworth fall fair on Labour Day, but not your wife.”

  “No, Roberta said she didn’t feel like going this year. Usually she loved to go, seeing so many of her former students there. But this year she was tired. Said she wanted to take advantage of the market being quiet to get some shopping done.”

  “So she went shopping in town?” Kate pressed, knowing Andy needed a confirmation.

  “Yes, most likely the organic market, possibly the bakery, though I can’t remember if she went that day specifically,” he said.

  “How did she usually pay for things?” Andy said. “Maybe we could look at receipts or a bank statement.”

  “Sure, yes. I think I have that. Let me get that and the coffee,” Al Sedlak said and pushed himself up from the chair.

  Kate looked at Andy as they listened to Mr. Sedlak moving around the next room.

  She wasn’t there, Kate said in her head, shrugging her shoulders at Andy.

  Andy gestured with her fingers, keep talking, keep asking questions.

  Mr. Sedlak returned with a silver coffee carafe and an overstuffed envelope, one edge ripped neatly with a letter opener. He filled each of their mugs of coffee before sitting down again slowly, pulling the bank statements out of the envelope. Kate shifted in her seat, feeling a little on edge, a little impatient to figure this out.

  “Here we go, last month. Roberta was at Market Organics here in town and Best Bakery, that’s just on the edge of the highway. Both just after noon, which makes sense.” He looked up from the bank statement. “Does that help?”

  “Yes,” Kate assured him, though there were still so many unanswered questions. “Can you remember if your wife mentioned anything about who she ran into that day?”

  Al Sedlak picked up his coffee mug, shaking his head in a seemingly unconscious motion. He took a sip of his coffee, still obviously thinking back to a few weeks ago.

  “She was always stopping to talk to people, so it wouldn’t have stuck in my mind if she said she ran into someone in particular. Wait, yes. She stopped to give someone a ride, I’m sure that was Labour Day.”

  “Who, Mr. Sedlak?” Andy asked.

  “That I don’t remember. She might not have even said. A former student, but there are hundreds of those around here, I’m afraid.”

  Both Kate and Andy waited silently, watching as the man thought back, both hoping that the name would come to him.

  Instead, he shook his head again. “I’m sorry, I really don’t remember.” He looked sad again, almost defeated. Kate’s heart went out to him.

  “Don’t worry about it, you’ve given us enough to go on,” Kate said, trying to reassure the grieving man. “Thank you for meeting with us today, I know this must be a very difficult time for you.”

  “Yes, a difficult time,” he repeated, almost unconsciously. He took a sip of his coffee, made no move to rise from the table. “How many people has this virus taken?” he asked suddenly, looking up at Kate.

  “Three,” Kate said quietly.

  He shook his head again. “Again, please don’t think me morbid, but I think Roberta would have preferred this, to lose the battle so quickly against a small virus instead of the cancer that she’d been fighting for so long.”

  Kate smiled at the man, saying nothing about what she knew about how the virus had invaded his wife’s body so effectively through a tumour in her lungs.

  “I miss her every second,” he said suddenly, quietly. “Every second. I find myself talking to her, calling to her from upstairs when I can’t find something. I wake in the night and think she’s just downstairs making herself some tea. I put some of her clothes in with mine when I did the wash last week, just so I would have something of hers to put away. Strange, the things you do in grief, isn’t it?” Tears were in his eyes, the sadness pressing down on his vocal cords making his words waver.

  Kate put her hand on his arm again, and the three of them sat in silence as the sun from the perfect blue sky day streamed in from the windows.

  “Do you have family close by, Mr. Sedlak?” Kate said, not able to ignore her concern.

  He smiled and wiped at his eyes. “My daughter is just in Vancouver, and I have a whole community of people looking out for me. But I thank you for checking, Dr. Morrison.”

  Andy pulled a card and a pen out of her pocket and put them on the table. Kate wrote down her cell phone number before passing the card to Al Sedlak.

 
; “Call, anytime. About anything,” she told him.

  “Yes, I will.”

  Back in the Yukon, Kate squinted against the bright light, checking her silent cell phone. She felt pulled in too many directions, thinking of her patients, of the widowed man they’d just left, of whoever had been in that car with Roberta Sedlak on Labour Day weekend. Kate was debating whether or not to call Lucy and check in on her patients when Andy spoke.

  “I’ll take you back to the hospital. I’ve got to meet with the new officers back at the RCMP office in half an hour.”

  “Sure,” Kate said absently, now twisting her silver ring around her finger.

  “What is it?”

  “That’s who you’re looking for, isn’t it?” Kate said. “Whoever Roberta Sedlak offered a ride to, that’s who you’re looking for.”

  “Most likely,” Andy said, checking her blind spot as she pulled out onto the highway.

  Kate wondered how she could sound so calm when they were tantalizingly close to the information they needed. Kate itched to know. It drove her crazy to have those missing pieces just out of reach.

  “I need Ferris,” Andy said suddenly. “It’s not going to be easy trying to question people without a local to help.”

  “What about Judy?” Kate asked as farms and fields whipped by the windows. “I know she’s not an officer, but she has all the information, and she’s definitely a local.”

  Andy looked quickly at Kate, calculating. “Yes, brilliant.”

  “That’s why I’m here,” Kate said, her thoughts drifting back to Ward B. She silently repeated the vitals for her four patients, or at least what they’d been almost two hours ago when she’d left. She was relieved when Andy finally pulled up to the front doors of Valley General.

  “Wait,” Andy said as Kate got out of the car. Andy was staring intensely at a point just over Kate’s shoulder. Kate turned to see Michael and Natalie Cardiff just inside the doors of the hospital. Michael Cardiff looked furious. “Maybe I should come in with you,” Andy said immediately and turned off the car.