Read Online Departure by A. G. Riddle - Free Book Online Page B

Yes. Helpful? Also yes.
    The doctor is queued up next, that “Something is seriously wrong, Mr. Stone” look on her face. Then again, Sabrina has had that look on her face since we met, so maybe that’s just how she always looks.
    â€œHi, Sabrina,” I say, bracing myself.
    â€œWe need to build a shelter.”
    At least somebody around here gets right to it.
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œMost of the passengers suffered mild hypothermia on the first night. Some, such as yourself and Ms. Lane, moderate cases. This morning, I’ve observed a trend: about half the passengers have a cold. If they remain out in the elements, that could progress. If it rains, they’ll fare even worse. We could have cases of bacterial infection or pneumonia soon. At a minimum, I would like to move anyone with a compromised immune system, older passengers, and anyone on an immunosuppressant therapy—which are common for autoimmune diseases—to the nose section and enclose it.”
    â€œOkay. Let me have someone check the trees supporting it. It moved some last night. If it collapses under the added weight, we’ll be worse off. I’ll be back this evening, and we’ll reassess then.”
    â€œWhere are you going?”
    â€œSomeone has to scout the area around us, look for food, maybe even help—or a better shelter.”
    Her eyes grow wide. “Fine. Anyone but you.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œYou can’t leave.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause it would be chaos here without you.”
    I just stare at her, unsure what to say. She’s probably right. That worries me, but it also brings a sense of something I haven’t felt in a long time: fulfillment. Right now I feel like I’m doing exactly what I need to be doing, that I’m making a difference in people’s lives. I haven’t felt that way in a very long time.
    A BREAK. BOB FOUND A pallet with some food in the nose section. It was tossed around, torn to pieces, but it’s yielded enough for two meals. That’s brought morale up and quelled most of the complaints for now.
    Sabrina has added a request for medications, especially antibiotics, to the luggage survey, but so far the poll hasn’t revealed much. There’ve been reports of fishing gear, and two passengers claimed snorkeling sets—but it’s all in checked baggage at the bottom of the lake, locked inside those steel crates. I’ve felt out a few of the guys who swam out to the rear section with me, and none of them are keen to go diving into the wreckage. I can’t say I blame them. Instead, I’ve sent them out with some of the other passengers who’re still in decent shape to scout the surrounding areas. They left a few hours ago in four teams of three, one for each cardinal direction. They’ll hike until they find something or someone, or until midday, whichever comes first, then head back, hopefully arriving before sunset. We’ll know a lot more then.
    I hope.
    HARPER’S SICK.
    She awoke with a ragged cough, a headache, and a low-grade fever. She swears she’s okay, but Sabrina is concerned enough to move her, against her protests, to the nose section.
    I’ve checked the trees supporting the back of this section. They still make me nervous, but I don’t see a better option at the moment.
    We’ve hung blue blankets over the open end, but every few minutes an icy draft makes it past them. During the day, it’s colder than by the fire at the lake, but I figure it will be much better at night, especially after Sabrina packs it full of patients.
    The mysterious Asian, Yul Tan, has come up with a better solution: build a wall. He and Sabrina have stacked the first- and business-class carry-on luggage from floor to ceiling, plugging any holes with deflated life vests. It looks kind of weird, but it works.
    Harper takes her old seat in first class, 1D, and stretches out.
    â€œI feel