‘The incubation period is between three and ten days, followed by a sudden onset of symptoms. These can include a rash over the trunk, nausea, vomiting, diarrhoea, chest pain and abdominal pain. More severe symptoms include jaundice, delirium, haemorrhaging, inflammation of the pancreas and liver failure.’ He ran his hands through his hair. It didn’t matter that there were over twenty people crammed into this room. Right now you could have heard a pin drop. Everyone was hanging on his every word.
‘There is no magic cure for the virus. We don’t have a vaccine against it. We can only treat the symptoms. Maintain fluid balances, give oxygen therapy, replace lost blood and clotting factors and treat any complications.’ He looked around the staff. ‘For everyone here, barrier nursing techniques have to be used in all cases. Any staff member exposed to body fluids is at risk. Protective gowns, gloves and masks have to be worn at all times. Take care with the disposal of needles, equipment and patient excretions.
‘Patients who are worst affected should be placed in isolation if possible.’ He held up his hands. ‘I realise facilities here aren’t ideal. But the people with the worst symptoms should be nursed in side rooms if possible. Parents have to be warned about the spread of disease. They have to be gowned, gloved and masked if they want to stay with their kids.’
The questions flew at him from all corners of the room.
‘What if we’ve already been exposed?’
‘How many people die from Marburg’s?’
‘Is this the only outbreak?’
‘How long do the lab tests take?’
Donovan was calm, cool and collected. He answered everyone as best he could. The death rate could be terrifying. But he didn’t want people running scared. There had already been a death here. Jessie Tanner hadn’t been old. But the death of a sixty-seven-year-old was a lot less terrifying than the death of a kindergarten-aged kid. He had to try and keep things in perspective.
He kept everything brief and to the point. After around fifteen minutes most of the staff had returned to their stations.
Lucy Kirk, the head nurse, appeared at his side. ‘I’ve got a couple of kids that need to be reviewed. Their symptoms are getting worse and they’re not responding to their IV fluids. They can’t stop vomiting and the fluids are coming out quicker than they’re going in.’ Her face was flushed and her hair had escaped from the elastic band at the nape of her neck.
Donovan looked up. ‘Can’t you ask Grace? She’s supposed to be reviewing the patients.’ He felt a little surge of annoyance. He’d just been asked to take part in a press conference for the local TV and radio stations. He’d done many of these in the past but knew he was supposed to run things by the communications department of the DPA first. Trouble was, he hadn’t worked out what he was going to say yet—let alone put pen to paper.
Lucy shook her head. ‘Grace is caught up with a kid with breathing difficulties. We’ve got six adults and thirty-four children as patients now. Grace hasn’t stopped for a second. We’ve already nicknamed her Superwoman. But she’s only one person. Our regular doctor is spending most of his time trying to move the rest of our patients to other facilities.’
Donovan nodded quickly, running his hand through his hair. ‘Okay, thank you. I’ll be with you in two minutes.’
Lucy disappeared back to the ER while Donovan scribbled some quick notes for the press conference. He was being unreasonable. He couldn’t really expect Grace, on her first assignment, to look after more than forty patients. Trouble was, things frequently worked out like that on DPA fieldwork trips.
He gowned, gloved and masked. It only took him a few minutes to review the kids and agree with Lucy’s assessments. He wrote up some orders but, after looking around him, decided just to administer the anti-emetic IV shots to the kids himself. It didn’t take long and he quickly disposed of his equipment and clothes.
He walked past an office where John was buried up to his neck in paperwork with two open laptops next to him. ‘Okay? How are you getting on?’
John stood up. ‘Exactly like we first suspected. The common denominator in everyone’s story is the caves in the State Park. But they don’t contain African fruit bats—they have Jamaican ones. What I can’t work out is why Jamaican fruit bats have made it this far up state. They’ve been spotted in Key West before, but never this far northwest.’
‘Have any of the state park staff reported being unwell?’
John pointed to the notes. ‘I’m tracking down as many as I can. Two have already been admitted as patients. David’s checking their blood results as we speak.’ He gave a little smile. ‘Grace seems to be taking samples quicker than he can analyse them.’
He mentally ticked the little box in his head. Another plus point for Grace. That reminded him. ‘John, do you know where the supplies are? I’d like to get changed into a set of scrubs.’ His voice drifted off. ‘I need to tell Grace to get changed too.’
John shrugged. ‘I think the boxes might be down at the lab.’ He gave a little smile. ‘I kinda like what Grace is wearing now.’
Donovan could feel his blood pressure start to rise. But John was watching him with a smirk on his face. He was playing him. Were his thoughts about Grace so apparent?
Darn it. He’d thought he was being cool. Romantic interludes between team members were never encouraged in the DPA. Team members were supposed to be focused and professional. Letting anything happen between him and Grace would be the quickest way to get her transferred off his team. And it would do nothing for her reputation.
Grace needed to establish herself as a solid fieldwork team member first. A year or two of experience in the field would cement her place in the agency and open a whole host of other opportunities for her.
And no matter how she looked in a red dress or how sexy her new haircut was, he had to keep his mind on the job.
The phone rang and John answered it. ‘Yes, yes, he’s with me.’ He glanced over at Donovan and started taking a few notes, which he passed over. Donovan read quickly. David had the lab tests running already. Out of twenty new samples—Grace really had worked quickly—the first few were already confirmed as Marburg virus. It would be another few hours before the rest were ready.
One of the admin staff appeared at his side. ‘We’ve got problems.’
‘What?’
‘We’re running out of IVs.’
‘You’re what?’ He’d heard it all now. What kind of a hospital didn’t have enough IV supplies?
‘Most of the patients are really dehydrated. We’re going through the infusion bags at a much quicker rate than normal and so far every single patient has an IV in place. We’re going to have to send for some more equipment from one of the other local hospitals.’
‘How quickly can it get here?’
She shrugged. ‘Hopefully within a few hours.’ She turned to leave, then spun back. ‘Oh, and the other thing, the nurse supervisor said to let you know that she can’t get enough extra nurses to cover all the shifts.’
Could this night get any worse? He took a deep breath. ‘There will be some nursing staff coming down from Atlanta. Hopefully they’ll be able to fill any gaps.’
She gave a nod. ‘I’ll let Lucy know, thanks.’
His stomach growled loudly and John smiled. Food. When was the last time they’d eaten? Probably in the airport before they’d left Atlanta.
‘There must be a canteen around here. Can I get you something to eat, John?’
He nodded. ‘Anything. And coffee. Black and lots of it.’
‘No problem, see you in five.’
He walked along the corridor, his eyes looking through all the open doors in the hope of a glimpse of red. Finally, he heard the click-clack of her stiletto heels on the floor to his right. Her feet must be killing her by now.
He could hear her talking t
o one of the mothers, offering some reassurance about the condition of her child. ‘Grace, can I borrow you for a second?’
She spun around and gave him a smile. At first glance she still looked as fresh as she had at the airport. But that had been hours ago now. And on closer inspection he could see the fatigue hiding behind the glaze in her eyes.
He put his arm through hers. ‘Walk with me for a second.’
‘Why, where are we going?’
Her legs kept pace with his as they turned the corner. ‘Any place that serves food.’
She stopped walking and frowned. ‘The hospital kitchen only serves the patients. Staff have to eat elsewhere.’ She pressed a hand to her stomach. ‘I already asked.’
‘Is there someplace close by?’
‘There’s apparently a coffee stand across the street, some vending machines in the ER and a twenty-four-hour diner on the corner.’
‘But nothing on site?’ His brain was working overtime. They had a potential deadly virus with patients needing round-the-clock care and staff needing round-the-clock facilities.
She shook her head and he smiled. ‘Well, things are about to change around here. Do you know where the kitchen is?’