“Of course. Will you?”
Norah smiled politely and nodded.
They slid into paper gowns, Norah’s fingers brushing the nape of Chase’s neck as she tied the back for her. Then they pulled on their masks and goggles and gloves.
Stevens, a twenty-three-year-old soldier from Michigan, was all the way in the back. Hazy white tarps that looked like something used to build houses covered the isolation wing, white duct tape plastering it to the floor and beams. A giant fanwhirred from inside, creating the negative-pressure environment that made the seemingly flimsy walls quiver. It all reminded Chase of something from the movieET, in the scene when ET is first discovered in Elliot’s closet. Seeing patients in the ICU, miles away, harboring this diabolical villain was one thing. But something about seeing it here, in their camp, among their people, sent a violent chill down Chase’s back.
Once they were covered in their PPE, Norah nodded, and Chase opened the door, which seemed to be made of some kind of plexiglass. A sickly looking Gregory Stevens lay on a cot adorned in white sheets. Chase didn’t know any of the soldiers by name, except Jamie and Norah, of course, but she recognized Stevens as soon as she saw him. A couple of days ago, he’d been down by the river with some of the others, taking a break from the midday sun by stripping off his shirt and plowing into the cool water at full speed, laughing and splashing like the healthy kid he was. Today, Chase would never have guessed that could have been him. His eyes were sunken deep into his skull, and his face held as much color as the sterile walls around them. His mouth was just as pale, which alarmed Chase even more. He was awake and managed to even force a small smile their way, but it seemed to take all his energy, and Chase could almost see his lips crack as he did.
“Captain,” he whispered. He tried to lift his hand in a salute, but he was too weak, his arm heavy with IV lines and monitoring leads.
“At ease, Private,” Norah said softly, and Chase could see the hurt spread across her face. “How are you feeling?”
“Honestly?” Stevens took a couple more shallow breaths. “Lousy, ma’am.”
Norah let out a faint chuckle. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to check on you and also to get an idea of what happened. You can just nod yes or no. You don’t have to explain, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I heard from Dr. Grimm that you’ve had a cough and a headache for a few days. Is that right?”
Stevens nodded.
“And yesterday you started having shortness of breath?”
He nodded again.
“Then last night you spiked a fever, and that’s when you finally told someone you weren’t feeling well.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I really thought…” Stevens had to stop mid-sentence to catch his breath. “It was just a cold.”
“Don’t be sorry, Stevens. You aren’t in trouble. We’re just trying to narrow down the timeline so we can help you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing,” Chase said. “We’re going to help you feel better. You understand? Now get some rest.”
Chase glanced up at the monitor above the bed, which read a frightening 89% oxygen saturation in spite of the generous oxygen being delivered to Stevens through a face mask. They turned to go, but Stevens managed to rasp out a few more words.
“Wait. There’s something else.”
Chase and Norah looked at each other apprehensively.
“There was a girl,” Stevens said. He took another few breaths. “Five days ago. New Orleans. She wasn’t sick but…”
Chase and Norah didn’t need any more information. Stevens had violated quarantine and slept with a girl in New Orleans who was clearly infected. And now they were all in danger. Chase’s blood turned boiling hot, and she looked back at Norah, thinking only about how one horny twenty-something could kill the woman she loved so he could get off. She had to leave. Otherwise, she might kill him herself.
The steam coming from Chase’s ears was almost real enough to not be metaphorical, and the oppressive Louisiana day wasn’thelping. Norah had seen Chase’s temper flare time and time again over the years, and clearly she couldn’t control it any better than she could in med school.
“That stupid, motherfucking—”
“Chase. That’s not helpful.” Norah kept her voice level and soft, attempting to counter some of Chase’s downright rage.
“How could he be so reckless? Our lives are at stake here. Your life is at stake!” Chase was a few paces ahead of Norah for a change, her squinted gaze locked on the hazy parking lot ahead where their jeep waited.
“Hey. Stop. Okay?” Norah placed her hand in the middle of Chase’s back, which was strong and just slightly damp from the heat. A nearly irresistible urge to circle her arms around Chase’s waist and fold her against her body overwhelmed Norah, and she was once again impressed with her own resolve when she forced herself to remain still. “He’s going through enough right now.”
Chase inhaled deeply, and as she exhaled again, Norah felt the muscles in Chase’s back soften. She thought about how much Chase had carried on that back during their time together. Norah—she had carried Norah. Sometimes that just meant making sure dinner was ready when Norah came home from a long day on rotation at the hospital, even though Chase had already worked sixteen hours. Other times, the more important times, Chase had read to her from the latest thriller paperback while Norah soaked in the bathtub. Chase was a constant, until she wasn’t. It was too easy to look back on love with the rosiest colored glasses. The good days stay etched in memory while the pain fades, and you’re left with disillusion. Norah knew better.
