Read Online Apocalypse Atlanta by David Rogers - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: David Rogers
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including other doctors. We’ve tried ten different stethoscopes and three different ECG machines, and they all tell us she’s dead.” She sighed again. “Or, she should be.”
Peter said nothing, merely waited. He watched the doctor visibly gather herself, and after a moment she continued. “Your wife has been examined by three doctors now. Her body is not holding heat, and there are signs of lividity in her limbs. Her heart does not appear to be beating and she does not appear to be breathing.
“We’ve tried a variety of drugs, and she’s not responding to any of them, not even adrenaline delivered directly to the heart. But she is clearly conscious and still moving. It’s . . . we don’t know what it is.” She sighed and shrugged her shoulders helplessly. “A doctor from neurology is on his way down, and technicians are bringing an EEG machine for him to check your wife’s brain patterns with. Beyond that, I don’t know what to tell you.”
“Can I see her?” Peter asked.
The doctor opened her mouth, but before she could answer Peter heard shouting. It sounded like it was coming from the waiting room, and he turned involuntarily. The doctor stepped out of the doorway of the office and peered down the hallway, just in time to see one of the admitting clerks appear looking wildly in all directions. The man’s eyes seized on Lambert’s white coat immediately.
“Doctor, we need you out here, stat. The first units are rolling in from the schools, and …” He hesitated, seemingly searching for words, then finally shrugged. “We’re gonna need everyone. Doctor Paulson is on the way down, and he’s apparently calling a lot of other personnel out of the wards to help.” was all he finally said, his eyes flicking to Peter at the last moment as if he was editing himself because of Peter’s presence.
“Mr. Gibson, I’ve told you all I can. You need to wait outside while we work on your wife, and all the other patients.” the doctor said as she took a step in the direction of the waiting room.
Peter reached out involuntarily, then made himself stop as she hurried down the hallway. The shouting increased in volume outside, and he closed his eyes as he drew a breath, willing it to be a calming one.
* * * * *
Darryl
Darryl was finishing the last beer he’d brought down with him when he saw the flashing lights. “Finally.” he grunted, crunching the can and chucking it into the garbage can with the others before standing up. He watched as the Gwinnett County Police cruiser rolled slowly down the street and turned into the little parking lot in front of his building. He tapped out a fresh cigarette and lit it with his silver Zippo as the cruiser stopped on the curb in front of him, and made sure he was looking as harmless as he could for someone of his size and build as the two cops got out.
“Darryl Jacobs?” one of them asked.
“That’s me officer.” Darryl nodded, taking a deep drag on the cigarette. “I work security at the Oasis, got a girlie who dances there upstairs in my apartment going crazy.”
“And you ain’t the reason?” the cop who’d been driving asked skeptically.
“Hey, I called Officer Prince because I need this sorted out calmly and peacefully.” Darryl said, still working hard at looking and sounding harmless. “You can check at the club, ask the manager or the bartenders or the other bouncers. Girlie goes by Bethany, real name’s Elizabeth. She rode home with me last night voluntarily, weren’t drunk or nothing. We partied some, went to bed, then went to sleep. No problems, didn’t bother the neighbors, nothing.”
“So what’s the problem then?” the first cop asked. He was the black one, mid twenties and built like he was a runner, and Darryl tried hard to reach a connection with him as he shrugged and put on a confused expression.
“Woke up, took a leak, and when I came back she was
Peter said nothing, merely waited. He watched the doctor visibly gather herself, and after a moment she continued. “Your wife has been examined by three doctors now. Her body is not holding heat, and there are signs of lividity in her limbs. Her heart does not appear to be beating and she does not appear to be breathing.
“We’ve tried a variety of drugs, and she’s not responding to any of them, not even adrenaline delivered directly to the heart. But she is clearly conscious and still moving. It’s . . . we don’t know what it is.” She sighed and shrugged her shoulders helplessly. “A doctor from neurology is on his way down, and technicians are bringing an EEG machine for him to check your wife’s brain patterns with. Beyond that, I don’t know what to tell you.”
“Can I see her?” Peter asked.
The doctor opened her mouth, but before she could answer Peter heard shouting. It sounded like it was coming from the waiting room, and he turned involuntarily. The doctor stepped out of the doorway of the office and peered down the hallway, just in time to see one of the admitting clerks appear looking wildly in all directions. The man’s eyes seized on Lambert’s white coat immediately.
“Doctor, we need you out here, stat. The first units are rolling in from the schools, and …” He hesitated, seemingly searching for words, then finally shrugged. “We’re gonna need everyone. Doctor Paulson is on the way down, and he’s apparently calling a lot of other personnel out of the wards to help.” was all he finally said, his eyes flicking to Peter at the last moment as if he was editing himself because of Peter’s presence.
“Mr. Gibson, I’ve told you all I can. You need to wait outside while we work on your wife, and all the other patients.” the doctor said as she took a step in the direction of the waiting room.
Peter reached out involuntarily, then made himself stop as she hurried down the hallway. The shouting increased in volume outside, and he closed his eyes as he drew a breath, willing it to be a calming one.
* * * * *
Darryl
Darryl was finishing the last beer he’d brought down with him when he saw the flashing lights. “Finally.” he grunted, crunching the can and chucking it into the garbage can with the others before standing up. He watched as the Gwinnett County Police cruiser rolled slowly down the street and turned into the little parking lot in front of his building. He tapped out a fresh cigarette and lit it with his silver Zippo as the cruiser stopped on the curb in front of him, and made sure he was looking as harmless as he could for someone of his size and build as the two cops got out.
“Darryl Jacobs?” one of them asked.
“That’s me officer.” Darryl nodded, taking a deep drag on the cigarette. “I work security at the Oasis, got a girlie who dances there upstairs in my apartment going crazy.”
“And you ain’t the reason?” the cop who’d been driving asked skeptically.
“Hey, I called Officer Prince because I need this sorted out calmly and peacefully.” Darryl said, still working hard at looking and sounding harmless. “You can check at the club, ask the manager or the bartenders or the other bouncers. Girlie goes by Bethany, real name’s Elizabeth. She rode home with me last night voluntarily, weren’t drunk or nothing. We partied some, went to bed, then went to sleep. No problems, didn’t bother the neighbors, nothing.”
“So what’s the problem then?” the first cop asked. He was the black one, mid twenties and built like he was a runner, and Darryl tried hard to reach a connection with him as he shrugged and put on a confused expression.
“Woke up, took a leak, and when I came back she was
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