Disclaimer: Scrubs does not belong to me.

Chapter Two: And The Puzzle Pieces Fall

A Latina woman wearing a black business jacket and matching pencil skirt stood just outside the school gates, donning a surgical mask. Beside her was Bob Erenreich, who wore a similar mask as well as a pale yellow disposable surgical gown. "This is Ayana James from FOX40 News, reporting to you live from Sacramento, California. Sutterville Preschool was placed under quarantine today and has been on lockdown since 1:30 this afternoon. Speaking to me now is CDC specialist and Intensivist Doctor Robert Erenreich. Doctor Erenreich, can you tell me what's going on in there?"

"Good afternoon," Bob greeted dismally, running a hand through his thinning gray hair. "Sutterville Preschool is under quarantine due to a communicable rash that has been spread among the children and also one of the faculty members. The school nurse sent us pictures via email and a couple of specialists agreed that the rashes as well as the other symptoms the children and faculty member presented with were very similar to that of a disease called Hands, Foot, and Mouth disease. Hands, Foot, and Mouth disease is also known as the Coxsackie virus and is prevalent mostly in children ages ten and under." He turned his head from the microphone to clear his throat, the grimace on his face showing his discomfort. "Unfortunately, it is not Hands, Foot, and Mouth disease that we're dealing with. As of now, we do not have anymore information. On-site biopsies have been done on several of the children. The test results will take a few hours."

"How communicable is this disease, Doctor? Do you have any ideas as to where it could have come from?" the news reporter asked.

He swallowed, hard. "It seems that it is very communicable. The children were at a local petting zoo two days before, so that may very well be the source. Specialists have isolated and quarantined the petting zoo, and are taking blood samples from the employees and even the animals, just to be safe. We're also investigating the school grounds. Unfortunately, both these institutions will be under quarantine until we can identify the virus. We understand how worried these kids' parents are right now, but we are trying our best."

"What symptoms should our viewers be looking out for, Doctor?"

"It is hard to name them all right now, but the known symptoms are as follows: bloodshot eyes, raw lesions in the mouth, rashes along the extremities, and all of this is accompanied by high fever."

Ayana nodded. "Thank you for your time, Doctor Erenreich."

Bob nodded gravely.

JD flipped open his cell phone as soon as he heard it ring. "Hello?"

"Bambi, are you busy?" Carla asked on the other line.

"I'm still near the preschool, but they're having everyone clear the area," he replied, glancing at his watch.

"I know you just got off a shift, but do you think you could come back here? It's getting crazy."

JD sighed, adjusting his surgical mask. "Okay. I'll be there soon."

It took JD longer to get to Sacred Heart than he thought he would. All bus schedules had screeched to a halt sometime after the news report, and all the bus stops he'd passed were crowded with people. He decided to walk the fifteen or so blocks to the hospital, which took him a little less than twenty minutes. The lobby was crowded with people when he got there, and the drone of bits of conversation and coughing and hysterical crying was nearly overwhelming.

He felt someone tug him by the arm, and he spotted Carla in his peripheral vision, her nails biting into the sleeve of his shirt as she dragged him down the hall. JD followed silently as she led him to an empty examination room, thrusting a chart into his hand.

"You're gonna check for the symptoms listed there," Carla said, tapping a finger against the chart. "You know how it goes. Circle the symptoms they present with, sign the paper, give it to 'em and then push them out the door. I'll be directing traffic from there."

JD nodded, shedding off his backpack and pulling on a pair of gloves.

For almost six hours, JD had systematically repeated the same steps, so much so that it very nearly became muscle memory and he started imagining that he was working at a burger joint instead of a hospital. Take the patient's temperature, check their lymph nodes, palpate their abdomen and their extremities for tenderness and rashes, toss away the disposable thermometer, shine a light in their eyes and mouth, document his findings - or for the most part, the lack thereof - and then send them away to Carla.

"For here or to stay?" JD imagined himself asking, donning a paper nurse hat that made for a makeshift fast food restaurant uniform. "Who knew McDonaldization would hit medical facilities so fast?"

"Puh-lease don't tell me you turned Sacred Heart into a burger joint in that overactive imagination of yours," Doctor Cox remarked as he breezed into the room.

The dark haired man nodded enthusiastically, but his smile was for once halfhearted. His smile fell. "Did you hear anything more from Jack's preschool?"

Doctor Cox tugged on a pair of gloves before plucking one of the disposable thermometers from a cardboard box, sticking it in JD's mouth. "Yeah," he muttered, and the younger man noticed the faraway look in his mentor's glassy eyes. "They're holding him and the rest of the tiny tots until further notice. He hasn't presented with any of the symptoms."

Yet, the unsaid word echoed throughout the room.

Doctor Cox palpated the lymph nodes on JD's neck before checking his temperature and shining his penlight in the younger man's eyes and mouth. JD laid down on the examination table as the older man took off his gloves and gently pressed his fingertips against the skin on his abdomen.

"Any pain, tenderness?" Doctor Cox asked, and by the monotonous voice he'd said it in, JD knew that he'd probably repeated the phrase more than a hundred times today.

"No," he replied, staring blankly at the ceiling.

The older man gently patted his side after looking over his arms and legs, heading out the door. "Let's grab something to eat, Newbie."

JD nodded, pulling his shirt down and running his hands through his hair as he followed after him.

"What are we even supposed to do?" Elliot's high pitched voice wafted - or perhaps, drilled - into their eardrums as they approached their usual table. "The CDC doesn't even have a vaccine for this thing yet, let alone a name for it! Is it airborne? Cutaneous? Should I be bathing myself in Lysol? Oh my God, do they sterilize these forks?" Her eyes grew wide as she dropped the fork into her Caesar salad.

Doctor Cox rolled his eyes as he dropped down into a vacant seat. "Of course they sterilize the forks! In fact, they put 'em right next to the kidney basins and the laryngoscopes!"

Carla wiped her face with her hands. "I kinda know how a crossing guard feels like now," she grumbled into her palms.

"It's okay," JD murmured, "I think I know how it feels to work in a fast food restaurant now. It was very reality TV show-like, except it'd be called Trading Places instead of Trading Spaces, and it'd be very dangerous because they'd have McDonald's employees trying to intubate some guy with bee stings and a closed airway."

Turk shuddered. "Dude, that just gave me the sickest image ever."

"And this is coming from a surgeon who sees the sickest images ever on a day to day basis," Doctor Cox snorted.

"But I'm eating!" the surgeon complained.

"Trust me, that is not the worst image ever," Elliot said, wrinkling her nose. "They made me audit an autopsy in med school, and the pathologists were talking about how they should order some Italian food after, and the dead guy looked like he'd gone through a shredder--!"

"Elliot, stop!" Carla and Turk snapped.

"Oh!" JD gasped in realization, sitting up. "Did Jordan make it home okay, Doctor Cox?"

"No," the older man grumbled, poking at his cold lasagna. "They for reasons unknown had everyone take a detour. She decided to turn around and stay with her mother until they clear up the roads again."

"Clear up?" Carla asked, her brows furrowing. "Was there an accident?"

Doctor Cox shook his head. "Jordan's words, not mine. I honestly have no idea."

"I might," a voice said above them, and nearly everyone jumped as a dark-skinned hand placed a police scanner down on the table with a loud clatter.

The table's occupants glanced up to see Leonard, one of Sacred Heart's security guards. At his pursed lips and the crinkle between his brows, everyone glanced back down at the scanner.

"…we have a code 11-12 on Interstate 5. I repeat, code 11-12..."

"What's a code 11-12?" Turk asked, frowning at the security guard.

Leonard frowned in thought before nodding, glancing back at them. "Code 11-12 is for loose livestock."

"…need back up, I repeat, need backup on Interstate 5 at junction SR99. Livestock are loose and vicious."

JD blinked before glancing over at his mentor, his mouth dropping open before he quickly closed it, shaking his head. "Doctor Cox, this is kind of a weird question, but what kind of animals did they have at Jack's field trip on Tuesday?" He eyed the other man as his face dropped.

"Livestock."

TBC...