Plague Ship (14 page)

twenty

David took the stairs
down, the let-die list still on his mind.
A goddamn let-die list
, he
thought bitterly. It sounded like something Charles Dickens would write. But this wasn’t fiction. It was real life, and soon he’d have to devise a triage system to separate the sure-to-die from the hope-to-live. Carolyn could help with that.

David left the stairwell and entered a long passageway. He passed a pair of deckhands who were mopping the interior of an elevator with disinfectant. Both were masked and wearing gloves. They nodded to David and he nodded back. They obviously weren’t as hostile as the other crew members and not as stupid either. They were doing their best to avoid the avian flu virus until they could jump ship.

Up ahead he saw a solitary, motionless figure with his hands on his hips, waiting for him. It was Choi. David glanced around and hoped to see one of the armed mutineers who might intercede. But, except for him and Choi, the passageway was deserted. David slowed and prepared himself, all the while looking for an edge. There wasn’t any. And this time he wouldn’t have the element of surprise working for him, which was a big disadvantage.

He watched Choi move to the center of the passageway, effectively blocking it off. Then the Asian assumed a fighting stance. His feet were apart, the left in front of the right, his arms hanging loosely but bent at the elbows and ready to spring into action. And now he had a knife in his belt. A big knife.

David slowed even more. He had his eyes locked onto Choi’s, but he was still searching for an opening. He moved a few inches to the right. Choi moved with him. Seconds ticked by in the ominous silence. Carefully David wiggled out of his short white coat and wrapped it around his forearm. A hint of a smile crossed Choi’s face as he gradually moved his hand up. Now it was at the level of his hip and a lot closer to his knife.

Parry the thrust of his knife
, David thought rapidly, then go for the eyes or testicles, whichever was open. He took a measured step forward. Choi’s smile grew.

“You’re blocking the goddamn passageway!” a voice boomed out from behind Choi.

Choi turned hastily and saw a large man, with reddish-gray hair and a square jaw, staring down at him. He was dressed in a green warmup outfit that had the words FIGHTING IRISH on the front of the jersey.

“You go other way,” Choi ordered.

The big man didn’t budge. He was two heads taller than Choi and forty pounds heavier, with hands the size of hams. “Don’t push,” he said hoarsely. “I ain’t in the mood for it.”

Choi hesitated as his eyes darted back and forth between David and the FIGHTING IRISH. He appeared to be weighing his chances against the two. It didn’t take him long to reach a decision. With a scowl, he turned and walked away.

The man watched Choi leave, then came over to David. “They think they own the damn ship.”

“In a way, I guess they do,” David said.

“Nah,” the man disagreed easily. “They’re still prisoners, just like we are. This ship is one giant brig.”

David nodded, noting the man’s use of the word
brig
. He had to be ex-Navy or ex-Marine. Sticking out his hand, David introduced himself. “I’m David Ballineau.”

“I know who you are,” the man said and shook David’s hand with a grip that felt like an iron vise. “I’m Tom Sullivan in cabin 408.” He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. “And I was coming to get you, doc. I think my wife has caught the damn virus. She’s coughing her head off.”

“Does she have any fever?”

“Some.”

“Any shortness of breath?”

“Only after a bad bout of coughing,” Sullivan replied. “She’s not a strong person, doc, and she has some other medical problems. I suspect that’s why the flu is hitting her so hard.”

A door down the passageway slammed loudly, then slammed again. They waited for the noise to subside.

“A goddamn bird virus,” Sullivan went on disgustedly. “And we took all those shots for the regular flu and swine flu and everything in between, and it hasn’t done us a bit of good.”

“The avian flu virus is a different type of virus,” David told him.

“Yeah, and there’s no shot for it.” Sullivan coughed and used a hand to cover it. Then he coughed again. “It looks like the virus is getting to me, too.”

From the sound of his voice, he didn’t seem concerned about having the avian flu. His tone was almost matter-of-fact, David thought. “Are you coughing up blood?”

“Not yet,” Sullivan said. “I was told that comes later.”

Again Sullivan’s voice showed no real concern. “Aren’t you worried about it?” David found himself asking.

Sullivan shrugged. “Worry doesn’t do anything for you. I learned that during two tours in Vietnam.” He paused as a faraway look came and went from his face. “It’s always out there, waiting for you.”

The
it
Sullivan was referring to was death. David had the same fatalistic outlook as Sullivan, as did most men who had gone into combat over and over again and survived. Death was always out there, waiting for you, waiting for the opportunity to step in and complete its mission. And sooner or later, it eventually did.

“Well,” Sullivan continued on. “I’m going up to the dining room to grab a bite, and get a little something for the wife. I want to be there before the crowd arrives.”

“I’m surprised a crowd still shows up,” David said. “I’d think people wouldn’t want to gather in close proximity to one another.”

“They only come in during the evening hours, when their appetites get the better of them. But even then, they give each other plenty of space and get the hell out as soon as they can. It’s like a mess hall in a brig. There’s not a lot of socializing.”

David wondered about the mood of the ambulatory passengers and whether they planned to join in the revolt. “Have you had a chance to talk with the other passengers over the past few days?”

“Yeah,” Sullivan answered. “I’ve chatted with some up on deck.”

“How do they feel about Scott and his bunch taking over the
Grand Atlantic
?”

“It doesn’t particularly bother them. They figure it doesn’t change things a whole lot. They’re still trapped on a ship with a virus that’s going to kill them.”

“But deep down they must be hoping that Scott can get them ashore.”

“Why, hell yes! That beats staying on this ship forever, doesn’t it?”

“I guess,” David said, then added as he walked away, “I’ll check on your wife in just a bit.”

David hurried down the passageway and made a mental note to examine Tom Sullivan’s wife after he checked on Kit. He recalled Sullivan saying that his wife had other medical problems, and that could be a death sentence according to the CDC. A
let-die list
, they called it. What a bullshit term! Most of the passengers, if not all of them, were going to die. He didn’t need a list to tell him that.

Up ahead he saw Kit’s cabin and quickly inspected the rest of the passageway. Choi wasn’t around, but David knew he’d be back soon because now it was kill or be killed between the two of them.
I should have cut the rope and let him drown or, better yet, just dragged him into a cabin and thrown him overboard from the balcony
. Nobody would have really cared. Not the self-absorbed Richard Scott, not the passengers, not even the mutinous crew, who would have quickly gotten over it and picked a new leader.
Yeah, in retrospect, I should have killed him
, David thought on, without a hint of emotion. His total lack of feeling didn’t bother him because he was aware of what he had become yet again. He was once more the stone-cold killer that he had kept hidden for all those years. But it was never really locked away. It was always there, waiting to surface, compliments of the Special Forces.

He reached Kit’s door and, after knocking gently, entered. Karen arose from the sofa and pressed a finger to her lips.

“She’s sleeping,” Karen whispered.

“Is she feeling okay?” David whispered back.

“She’s fine.”

They walked out to the balcony overlooking the sea. The water was calm, the air fresh and cool, twilight now setting in. A giant half moon was making its appearance.

Karen rested her head on David’s shoulder and said longingly, “We should be up on deck, dressed to the nines, and enjoying chilled martinis.”

“The only thing up on deck is a rebellious crew that would happily slit my throat open,” David said.

Karen nodded. “Carolyn phoned and told me all about it. Can’t anyone control them?”

“Yeah, Richard Scott. But only when he wants to.”

“This reminds me of
Mutiny on the Bounty
.”

“Except there’s no friendly island waiting to welcome us.”

Karen paused for a moment before asking, “Is there any way out of this?”

“One,” David answered. “But you don’t want to hear it. It’s not a happy ending.”

“So we’re all going to die.”

“Unless there’s some kind of miracle.”

“Do you believe in miracles?”

“No.”

Karen snuggled her head closer to him, her silky blond hair brushing his cheek. “Why do I keep thinking you’re going to come up with a magic answer and save us all?”

“Because you like Hollywood endings.”

“I’ll tell you something else I like,” she breathed softly. “You.”

“I’m already taken,” David said tonelessly.

Karen shook her head. “Carolyn is not really your type. She doesn’t have my spark, and you like sparks, don’t you, David Ballineau?”

David shrugged. “Sparks come and go in a hurry.”

“They can also start fires,” Karen said and pressed up against him. “Real hot fires.”

David felt himself stir despite his effort to resist her.
Get away from her!
He commanded his feet, but they stayed in place. There was something about Karen’s sensuality that attracted him and always would. But she had betrayed him once, and given the opportunity he believed she’d do it again. He glanced over at her. Even in the bright light, she still had a flawless beauty. But there was a cold, calculating presence to it. Carolyn had once remarked that Karen had the warmth of a blackjack dealer. At length, David said, “What we had together is in the past. You should leave it there.”

“No way!” Karen said immediately. “It was too good not to go back to.”

David shrugged indifferently, thinking he sure as hell wasn’t going back to her. Not when he had someone as warm and wonderful as Carolyn.
The past is the past and I intend to keep it there
. He pushed himself away and said, “Let’s return to the business at hand, beginning with the new flu victims. The really sick are piling up on us, and it’s going to get worse.”

“I know,” Karen said. “Carolyn told me she had moved out most of the people in the sick bay, but it was filling up again with even sicker patients.”

“We have to go down there and help her out,” David said and glanced back into the cabin. “But I hate to leave Kit alone.”

“She’s sound asleep and will stay that way for a while,” Karen assured. “And she’s no longer just a little girl. She’ll do fine on her own.”

“Yeah, I guess,” David said with uncertainty.

He tiptoed quietly into the bedroom and over to Kit’s bed. She was sound asleep, hugging her favorite teddy bear, with her raven hair spread out on the white, cotton pillowcase. He stared at her for a long moment, loving her more than anything on the face of the earth. With care, he leaned over and kissed her forehead.

Kit opened her eyes and drowsily said, “Hi, Dad.”

“Hi, sweetheart,” David said softly. “Karen and I will be gone for a little while. We’re going to help Carolyn in the sick bay.”

Kit nodded and immediately went back to sleep, still hugging her teddy bear. David kissed her forehead again and tiptoed out of the bedroom. He motioned to Karen to close the sliding glass door to the balcony and, when she had, they left the cabin and gently shut the door behind them.

They didn’t hear Kit cough. And they didn’t hear her next cough, which was deep and raspy and even louder.

twenty-one

David knocked on the
door of cabin 408 and heard a weak voice from within call out, “Come in.”

He entered and found a small, slim woman, with dyed black hair, sprawled across a couch in the sitting room. Everything about her was petite except for her chest, which was barrel-shaped.

“Mrs. Sullivan, I’m Dr. Ballineau,” he introduced himself. “Your husband asked me to stop by and see you.”

“Oh, thank you so much for taking the time,” she said and seemed out of breath from the relatively short sentence. “I know you must be very busy.”

“I’m managing to keep up,” he lied. “Now tell me, how are you feeling?”

“Not so good,” she reported and coughed a wet, noisy cough. “I’m afraid my chronic bronchitis is making things a lot worse.”

David nodded. Those were the medical conditions Tom Sullivan had mentioned earlier. She had chronic bronchitis and, judging from the shape of her chest, severe emphysema. She would be the first on the let-die list.

“From too many cigarettes,” she added.

David nodded again. “I hope you’re not still smoking.”

“Only when Notre Dame is in a close football game,” she said with a smile. “My friends call me Bunny, by the way.”

“And you can call me David,” he said, liking the woman immediately. “Let me ask you a few questions.”

“Sure.”

“Do you feel feverish?”

“Only after the chills come and go.”

“Are you coughing up blood?”

“A little.”

“And your husband told me that your shortness of breath is getting worse.”

Bunny Sullivan nodded. “My inhaler isn’t helping like before.”

David took out his stethoscope and listened to her chest. It was filled with crackles and wheezes. And her skin felt warm. He estimated her fever at 101º. There was no doubt about the diagnosis of avian influenza. “Do you have antibiotics on hand?”

“Cipro,” she replied. “And I’m taking it twice a day.”

“Stay on it,” David told her. “Did you bring a humidifier aboard?”

“Sure did.”

“Use it, and have your husband help you clear your lungs.”

“He’s doing that already.”

“Tell him to do it more.”

Bunny had a coughing spell that went on and on. It took her a long time to catch her breath. She swallowed back the phlegm in her throat and asked finally, “Are we going to get out of this alive?”

“If we’re really, really lucky.”

“Do you think we’ll be lucky?”

“No,” he said honestly.

Bunny fingered the golden crucifix that hung from her neck. “I’ll pray for us.”

“Can’t hurt.”

David stopped into the passageway and committed the cabin number to memory. 408. Its door would be painted red. Bunny Sullivan would be left unattended. She would die in cabin 408.

He took the elevator down to the G level, sharing it with a middle-
aged couple who were coughing their heads off. Their N-95 masks were bloodstained and clearly overloaded. David could envision the avian flu virus swarming through the soaked masks and pouring into the stale air of the elevator. He kept his head down and a hand over his own mask, giving himself as much protection as possible. The couple kept coughing.

The elevator jerked to a stop. The door opened to a chorus of moans and groans and coughs. The passageway from the sick bay to the beauty spa was again jammed with ill patients. David stepped aside to allow the couple next to him to rush out and join the crowd of the sick and dying.
Yeah
, David thought grimly.
Hurry up and get in line for a doctor who can’t do anything for you
.

He moved through the mass of patients, carefully avoiding their outstretched arms and legs. The coughs were coming up at him in sprays. Hurriedly, he put a hand over his mask once more to protect himself from the airborne droplets. But he knew he was hoping against hope. The virus in the droplets would still stick to his clothes, ready to jump into his airway at the first opportunity. As he reached the entrance to the sick bay, he heard Carolyn’s voice shouting orders.

“Just separate the sick from the sickest! Don’t worry about details!”

“That’s not how I practice medicine!” Karen yelled back.

“Well, you’re not in charge down here, and I am. So let’s do it my way.”

“Who anointed you Supreme Ruler?”

“Lord, give me strength!” Carolyn seethed.

David grumbled under his breath. This was the last thing he needed. Two trained professionals fighting over who should have authority in a useless sick bay. And to make matters even worse, there had always been bad blood between the two women, and it wasn’t just over him. The women had a mutual dislike for one another right from the get-go.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the reception area and
waved to the pair. “It looks like we’ve got a full house again.”

“It’s a big mess,” Carolyn said, exasperated.

“So I see.”

“And again they refuse to return to their cabins,” Carolyn went on. “It’s as if they believe we have magic pills that are going to cure them.”

“Let me give it a try.” David went back to the entrance of the sick bay and, raising his voice, called out, “Please give me your attention!”

His request was met with moans and groans and even more coughing. Two couples propped up against the far wall of the passageway were arguing between themselves about something. They ignored David, like he wasn’t even there. A small dog was barking noisily in the background.

“Listen up!” David bellowed, his voice now hard and loud. “I’m only going to say this once, and if you want to be treated, you’d better listen.”

The crowd quieted instantly. The dog barked again, but someone quickly hushed it.

“Here is the way it’s going to work,” David told them. “All of you are to return to your rooms at once. As you leave, give us your name and cabin number or, better yet, you can phone the information in. Those of you who stay down here will be seen last.” He glanced around the crowd and saw he had their full attention, then continued. “If you decide to keep lying on this uncomfortable floor, that’s your business. But you won’t be seen for hours and hours because the medical staff won’t be here. They’ll be busy attending to people in their cabins.”

“Can—can’t you leave one doctor or nurse down here?” a voice pleaded.

“No, I can’t,” David said firmly. “You return to your room or you don’t get seen. It’s that simple.”

The crowd seemed to hesitate as one, then ever so slowly began to struggle to their feet and move out. Some headed for the staircase; most stood in line at the elevators. The coughing started again.

David walked back into the reception area and noticed a couple still sitting in their chairs. Their expressions appeared to indicate that they expected to be seen since they were already in the waiting room. Both were expensively dressed. She even had on fine jewelry.

David jerked his thumb from them to the door. “No exceptions!”

The couple stood, holding hands, and gave David and Carolyn a displeased look before leaving.

Karen came up alongside David and said, “That was really mean.”

“We don’t have time for niceties,” he snapped.

“A little civility goes a long way,” Karen rebuked mildly.

“You want some civility, eh? Well, try this on.”

David told them about his phone conversation with the CDC and their instructions to establish a let-die list. He described in detail how they were to select out those who would be left to die. From memory, he went through a list of medical conditions that would ensure a certain death sentence.

The women stared at David, astounded by the concept of a let-die list. It went against everything ingrained in their professional code of conduct.
You just didn’t let people die without trying to help and comfort
.

Carolyn slowly shook her head. “It’s another way of telling us that the CDC won’t be sending any help.”

“All they’re sending are eight ventilators,” David told her.

“And who is going to monitor them?” Carolyn asked at once.

“We are,” David replied.

“That’s going to be a real stretch,” Carolyn said. “We’re already overwhelmed as is. If we have to monitor eight ventilators as well, we’ll be turning a very difficult problem into an impossible one.”

“I know,” David said, nodding. “And you haven’t mentioned the most difficult of all the problems.”

“Which is?”

“Choosing which eight patients get to go on the ventilators,” David answered somberly. “They’ll be the ones selected out to live.”

“Jesus!” Carolyn breathed. “It’s like a Nazi triage system.”

“We’ve got no choice,” David said simply.

“The part about letting all the elderly die really bothers me,” Carolyn thought aloud. “What’s the definition of elderly? What’s the cut off? Sixty-five? Seventy?”

David shrugged. “If they’re old and infirm, they’ll be considered elderly.”

“And who decides that?”

“All of us,” David said. “And remember, there’s not a hell of a lot we can do for them anyway.”

“But still…” Carolyn let her voice drop off.

“I know,” David said consolingly, “but it’s the only way we can attend to those who might live.”

“I don’t like it,” Karen interjected. “I don’t like playing God.”

“Who does?” Carolyn asked.

“You seemed to be enjoying that role a moment ago,” Karen said snidely. “Like when you were shouting out orders.”

Carolyn glared at her. “Now I understand why you became an anesthesiologist. You don’t know how to relate to other human beings while they’re awake.”

“I’m not going to put up with your—”

“Whoa!” David interceded quickly. “Let’s not argue among ourselves. That’s not going to help us solve our problems.”

The women continued to glower at each other.

“So knock it off!” David directed. “And I mean now!”

Carolyn’s expression softened, but Karen’s didn’t.

“Can’t we have a truce while we’re in the middle of this nightmare?” David implored. “Is that asking too much?”

There was a long pause before Carolyn offered her hand in friendship. Karen hesitated, then reluctantly shook it.

“All right,” David said to them. “Let’s concentrate on the major problems we’re facing. Namely, how to deal with the sick and how to deal with Richard Scott and his mutineers, because they’ve increased our peril even more, if that’s possible.”

“By taking over the ship?” Carolyn queried.

David shook his head. “It’s more than that. Have you noticed that very few of the crew are wearing their N-95 masks?”

The women nodded simultaneously.

“That’s because I heard one of the deckhands say it was okay with Richard Scott if they didn’t wear their masks. So they’ll soon get sick and become sicker, and stretch our resources even further. It’s like Scott is making sure the outbreak spreads to every part of the
Grand Atlantic
.”

Karen asked, “Why would he do that?”

“I have no idea,” David replied.

“Won’t it eventually spread to Richard Scott and his men?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” David said. “For the most part, they’ve isolated themselves by staying on the bridge and denying entrance to all but the most essential people. Nobody sick gets near them.”

“But why spread the virus to all the others?” Carolyn asked thoughtfully. “How would that help Richard Scott?”

“I have no idea,” David said again. “All I know for sure is that Scott plans to go ashore somewhere in the Caribbean. And it doesn’t matter a damn to him if he starts a pandemic while he’s in the process of saving his own skin.”

“Wouldn’t we all jump ship if we had the opportunity?” Karen asked self-servingly. “I know I would.”

Carolyn gave her a look of disgust. “Those of us with an ounce of moral fiber would stay behind and care for all the others.”

The women glared at one another again. Their truce was over.

The phone began to ring, all lines lighting up at once.

Carolyn glanced over and said, “That’s probably the sick passengers calling in their names and cabin numbers. Who wants to man the phone first?”

“I’ll do it,” Karen volunteered, then added with sarcasm directed at Carolyn, “assuming the director of the sick bay agrees, of course.”

Carolyn flicked her wrist dismissively and watched the anesthesiologist walk away, disliking her even more than before. She turned to David and lowered her voice, “How in the world did you ever put up with that?”

“I didn’t,” Richard answered. “Remember?”

“But it sure took you a while to come to your senses.”

“That’s because I’m a forgiving sort.”

“Ha!” Carolyn forced a laugh. “I’ve always had the feeling you’re one who holds a grudge for a long time.”

“I guess,” David said, recalling Karen’s dishonesty and duplicity from years back. Her unconscionable behavior still stung, and that was good. It reminded him of what she really was. Self-centered and self-serving. And that would never change. He brought his attention back to Carolyn and her dark eyes that he never tired of looking into. Her signs of fatigue seemed to have vanished. “You look like you’ve gotten a second wind.”

“I’m good at that,” Carolyn said matter-of-factly. “But, Lord! It sure took its time coming.” She gazed up lovingly at him. “I’m sorry I almost came apart on you. I usually don’t go in for pity.”

David shook his head. “Pity, hell! You were holding up great.”

She shook her head back at him. “I was weak.”

“I hope everybody becomes as weak as you were in the middle of that nightmare.”

A half-smile came across Carolyn’s face. “You’re not going to let me fall, are you?”

“It’s me who will fall first, not you.”

Carolyn’s smile grew. “You say the sweetest things, even when you lie.”

“Well, here’s an absolute truth,” David said. “When we get out of this mess, we’re going to the nice, white beaches of Waikiki. Just you and me, without Kit or Juanita.”

“No way!” Carolyn said promptly. “Either Kit comes with us or I don’t go.”

David hummed happily to himself. “When are you going to stop being so perfect?”