“Take a deep breath,” John said through the thin surgical mask he wore. “Norah’s right in that we don’t know for sure that this is H7J1. There are still other viruses out there.”
“See?” Norah said boastfully.
“That being said,” John went on, “you both need to stay isolated. I’m not going to ask for details, but I can only assume you spent the night here, Chase. So until further notice, you both stay put in this tent.”
“But!” They protested in unison like kids being grounded for a full summer.
“No arguing. You know that’s the protocol.”
“Don’t you think she needs to go to the hospital, John?”
John shook his head. “You know as well as I do that even if she has it, the treatment at this point is entirely supportive. We’ll send in a bag of IV fluids and an O2 sat monitor. Norah, if you become hypoxic, then we’ll have to consider our next moves.”
Norah was relieved no one was going to force her to check into the hospital. But she was still terrified. And now she was wracked with guilt over exposing Chase to whatever she was fighting. She could kill them both. The only thing that made her feel even guiltier was the pleasure that came from being sequestered with Chase indefinitely while they were quarantined.
“How are we supposed to work?” Chase said.
“You work from here if you can. But please, rest, Norah. We can handle things out here.”
Chase and Norah nodded, and as John retreated silently, Chase rolled her eyes just enough to let him know she didn’t like being bossed around.
“Well. I guess we’re stuck together a little longer,” Norah said, sliding to the head of the cot so Chase could sit.
“You’re going to be okay.” Chase seemed to be reassuring herself as much as she was Norah.
Norah reached over and squeezed her hand that rested on her knee. “That’s what I’ve been telling you, dummy.”
The hot, stale air trapped with them in the tent was suffocating Chase. She glanced over at Norah again, who seemed to look more exhausted by the minute, as another coughing spell gripped her.
“Stop looking at me like that,” Norah finally managed to say. Her face was as colorless as the canvas, but she somehow gave a weak smile.
“What do you need right now? Do you want to rest? Why don’t you lie down? Can I get you some tea?”
“It’s 97 degrees in here. Thanks, but I’m okay. Why don’t we do some work while we’re here.”
Chase paused, wanting to argue with Norah, but there was no point. She was going to work whether Chase wanted her to or not. Chase crossed the small space and picked up Norah’s laptop.
“Fine. Why don’t we go back and review the latest transmission figures?”
Norah grunted in frustration. “You know what makes this so fucking hard? We don’t have a damn test that works yet. It’s nearly impossible to know if these people are sick with the virus or with some stupid—”
“Southern ragweed?” Chase allowed Norah a small grin, trying to alleviate some of the terror that simmered deep in her belly.
“Yes, that. Or what about rhinoviruses? Or even bacterial infections? Staph pneumonia can present with almost identical features.”
“We have things to work with. The CT scans have a very specific pattern. And you know that most standard pneumonia patients aren’t ending up on ventilators.” Chase’s mind suddenly jumped to Stevens. In the midst of her own fears about Norah, she’d nearly forgotten there was a real person in their unit who could very well die from this monster.
“You’re right.” Norah yawned and rubbed her eyes, suddenly seeming so weak she could hardly hold herself up.
“Hey,” Chase held her waist, letting Norah collapse against her chest, “why don’t you lie down. Get some sleep. I can crunch some numbers while you do.”
Norah pursed her lips, looking like she was about to protest before appearing to succumb to her malaise. She nodded resolutely and lay back on the cot.
“Chase?” she whispered dryly, her eyes closed.
“Mmm?”
“Will you stay here with me?”
