Read Online Pestilence: A Medical Thriller by Victor Methos - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Victor Methos
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didn’t hear. She was sprinting down the hall. She had to get out of there. The hospital walls were closing in around her, her heart was racing, and she couldn’t breathe. Her chest was tight, and she worried she was having a heart attack.
The elevator took too long to arrive, so she sprinted down the stairs instead. Hysterical, she burst out onto the first floor and ran for the exit.
The sliding doors opened and another nurse, Lance Page, walked in. She tried to run past him, but ended up running into him, nearly knocking him off his feet, and their faces bumped.
“Nancy,” he said as she stood and ran out the door. “Nancy, what’s wrong?”
17
Lance Page felt hot. He was lying in his living room , watching television, and his eyelids were boiling. Sweat was pouring out of him, and he was shivering.
Someone knocked on his door. With great effort, he rose and answered it.
His supervisor, Michelle, was standing on the porch.
“ Hi,” she said.
“Hi.”
“Sorry for popping in, but nobody’s phones are working. We think there’s a big outage or something.”
“It’s okay . What did you need, Michelle?”
“ Hey, I know you just left, but you sure you can’t come in? It’s just that we can’t get a hold of Nancy, either, and we’re short two people. If you could come in, it would really help.”
He swallowed , and his throat was tight. “Maybe half a shift.”
“Half a shift would be an enormous help.”
“Okay. Give me fifteen.”
Lance put on his scrubs and sneakers , then headed out the door. He locked it behind him and then opened it again. He went to the fridge to get a soda and left again, heading toward Saint Anthony’s, which wasn’t more than a ten-minute walk from his house.
When he arrived, he went directly to the bathroom and used wet paper towels to mop his head, belly, and underarms. Then he clocked in and went to the nurse’s station for assignments.
The day was grinding slowly through, and Lance only lasted a few hours before he felt like it was time to go. He checked the board. A twelve-year-old boy named Max White had come to the ER with stomach pains, and his mother was worried that he’d gotten food poisoning from uncooked meat at a barbeque.
Lance went in and did his best to smile.
“How are ya guys?” he said.
“He’s started throwing up since we got here.”
Lance bent over to take the boy’s vitals, and a single drop of sweat rolled off his head and onto the boy. It struck his lips, and the boy wiped away the spatter with his arm without saying anything, but the mother said, “Excuse me, you dropped sweat on my son.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just really hot.” He moved away from him . “I’ll be right back.” Lance went out to the shift leader and said, “I have to leave. I don’t feel good at all, Michelle.”
“No prob. I think the rush has died down. Thanks for coming out. You gonna be able to make it tomorrow?”
“It’s my day off tomorrow.”
“Oh, right. Okay, have a good one then.”
“Thanks.”
After getting home, Lance slept for four hours. He hoped a nap would make him feel better, but when he woke up, the fever was worse. He tried calling his girlfriend to come and spend the night, but he was too weak to walk over to his phone. His throat still felt tight, and he was having trouble breathing. His lips and even his eyes were dry from dehydration, and he knew he had to drink something but was too faint to get anything.
With all the strength he could force out of himself, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. He got as far as the bathroom before he sat on the toilet to relieve himself, but something was wrong. He didn’t have the normal sensation of release. It felt more loose and messy. He stood and looked down. The toilet water was completely dark; red-black streaks crossed the bowl.
Max White stood in his backyard wi th his two brothers and his
The elevator took too long to arrive, so she sprinted down the stairs instead. Hysterical, she burst out onto the first floor and ran for the exit.
The sliding doors opened and another nurse, Lance Page, walked in. She tried to run past him, but ended up running into him, nearly knocking him off his feet, and their faces bumped.
“Nancy,” he said as she stood and ran out the door. “Nancy, what’s wrong?”
17
Lance Page felt hot. He was lying in his living room , watching television, and his eyelids were boiling. Sweat was pouring out of him, and he was shivering.
Someone knocked on his door. With great effort, he rose and answered it.
His supervisor, Michelle, was standing on the porch.
“ Hi,” she said.
“Hi.”
“Sorry for popping in, but nobody’s phones are working. We think there’s a big outage or something.”
“It’s okay . What did you need, Michelle?”
“ Hey, I know you just left, but you sure you can’t come in? It’s just that we can’t get a hold of Nancy, either, and we’re short two people. If you could come in, it would really help.”
He swallowed , and his throat was tight. “Maybe half a shift.”
“Half a shift would be an enormous help.”
“Okay. Give me fifteen.”
Lance put on his scrubs and sneakers , then headed out the door. He locked it behind him and then opened it again. He went to the fridge to get a soda and left again, heading toward Saint Anthony’s, which wasn’t more than a ten-minute walk from his house.
When he arrived, he went directly to the bathroom and used wet paper towels to mop his head, belly, and underarms. Then he clocked in and went to the nurse’s station for assignments.
The day was grinding slowly through, and Lance only lasted a few hours before he felt like it was time to go. He checked the board. A twelve-year-old boy named Max White had come to the ER with stomach pains, and his mother was worried that he’d gotten food poisoning from uncooked meat at a barbeque.
Lance went in and did his best to smile.
“How are ya guys?” he said.
“He’s started throwing up since we got here.”
Lance bent over to take the boy’s vitals, and a single drop of sweat rolled off his head and onto the boy. It struck his lips, and the boy wiped away the spatter with his arm without saying anything, but the mother said, “Excuse me, you dropped sweat on my son.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just really hot.” He moved away from him . “I’ll be right back.” Lance went out to the shift leader and said, “I have to leave. I don’t feel good at all, Michelle.”
“No prob. I think the rush has died down. Thanks for coming out. You gonna be able to make it tomorrow?”
“It’s my day off tomorrow.”
“Oh, right. Okay, have a good one then.”
“Thanks.”
After getting home, Lance slept for four hours. He hoped a nap would make him feel better, but when he woke up, the fever was worse. He tried calling his girlfriend to come and spend the night, but he was too weak to walk over to his phone. His throat still felt tight, and he was having trouble breathing. His lips and even his eyes were dry from dehydration, and he knew he had to drink something but was too faint to get anything.
With all the strength he could force out of himself, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. He got as far as the bathroom before he sat on the toilet to relieve himself, but something was wrong. He didn’t have the normal sensation of release. It felt more loose and messy. He stood and looked down. The toilet water was completely dark; red-black streaks crossed the bowl.
Max White stood in his backyard wi th his two brothers and his
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