CHAPTER EIGHT
Friends
Hank Freebird
Alone.
Just the two of them, their looks so different yet so similar. CR-S01, his raven hair swept asides by an invisible wind that neglects the other figure completely, his red eyes losing their glint. The blue-haired Albert Sartre, eyes downcast, mouth turned down in a grimace. Both wear doctor's coats, but neither seem fit in them.
"I'm sure that you resent me," Sartre says quietly, and his words, so heavily affected by his French accent, wash over CR-S01 like a wave. Then it retracts, leaving behind tingling memories of the man he had once trusted, the man who destroyed his life. "It's so natural," Sartre continues, "I robbed you of your past... and future."
"I..." Unable to say anything, unable to choke out his thoughts, CR-S01's eyes slide to the corner of his eyes, as always. Penetrating through his myriad of dark thoughts is the deep affection that has haunted him for so long: "I... don't resent you. You gave me the life I had to begin with."
And in CR-S01's gaze, Sartre draws back into the dark veil he had sprung forth from. He tries to take a step forwards, but fails, and is held back by an invisible barrier. Hopelessly, Albert Sartre is reduced into the light of the day – and the pile of bones that is all that's left of the once almighty scientist.
"Professor Sartre..." CR-S01 whispers, finally released from his bonds, but it's too late. Sartre is gone, forever.
They stand there; some have their arms crossed, some hang theirs limply at their sides. But in their eyes and faces are hardened lines of the despair they have all gone through: terror haunting the already dim glow of their lights of life.
Naomi Kimishima's wavy silver hair stands out the most, for she is a stranger, one not frequently acquainted with. Hank matches her posture: arms hanging at his sides, but his face tight with lines of tension. Tomoe, beside her, have her arms crossed, wearing the same scowl she had worn that day of the bus incident. Gabe's hands are shoved into his pockets, but anyone can tell that he is suffering hard already.
But Maria is the one with the most determined face: her green eyes terrorizing in the blazing darkness, arms crossed arrogantly, ready to bring down any disease, and to get down to the mystery of it all, unraveling the truth at last. Rosalia.
The door opens and the final member of their trauma team strides in, his slim figure shadowing over the doorway. CR-S01 slowly walks in, feeling the gaze of five glances landing on him.
"Are you done?" Gabe speaks up as CR-S01 walks right past him, without the merest breath or disturbance in the air.
"Yes." It's as much as he can get out at the moment, in the pure shock of it all.
"All right..." Gabe nods. "Everybody here? RONI, take it away."
The computer isn't currently in the room, but as Gabe walks deftly up to the screen, the lights truly extinguish and the room is filled with the wash of blue light as RONI fills the entire screen.
"Yes, Doctor. Let us begin." RONI's voice is calm yet stated with authority as she delivers the news. "The outbreak began in Portland and has quickly spread. I have collated and analyzed all the information at hand."
"What?" Tomoe cries.
"Then..." Maria follows.
"So, do we know what it is?" Hank cuts in.
"A picture says a thousand words," says Gabe, shrugging, jabbing a finger at the screen. "Our guest of honor..."
The slide changes, and even Maria is taken aback. "Is that it?"
The picture is simple: blue stick-like things colliding against one another, though being stuck together is a more appropriate terms. "A Group V RNA virus of the Filoviridae family," RONI informs. "Yet, is nucleic acid does not match any existing data."
"So... is this a new type of virus?" Tomoe whispers, incredulous.
"That's right," says Gabe shortly. "We've named it the Rosalia Virus."
"Rosalia..." Hank plays with the alien world with his tongue, but beside him, Maria and CR-S01 are well too familiar with the name. Memories flash in their heads as they think of the once so sweet girl... she's too innocent to have created a virus this strong.
"Rose..." Maria murmurs softly.
CR-S01 says nothing.
"A medical professor at Cumberland College," Gabe continues crisply from the front of the room, "Albert Sartre, found it in the blood of a girl he had adopted. Ironically enough, he was infected by it and died."
CR-S01, still fresh from his recent encounter with the bones of Albert Sartre, shudders. They had gotten along well, but CR-S01 was never told the whole truth. He was left to be arrested and, probably, to die, at Cumberland College, as Sartre abandoned the son he had spent years raising... but did he deserve to die? Naomi had told CR-S01 about Sartre's last words, but was that enough to atone for the serious sin he has committed?
"Now listen up," Gabe snarls sharply. "This thing's life cycle has two stages. First, a dark stage where it replicates itself, undetected."
"Let me provide some additional information," Naomi jumps in. "In this stage, it fragments itself and infects cells, and there's no way for us to confirm the virus's presence."
"That means that only a process of elimination works," Tomoe adds.
"Correct," Naomi nods with approval. "The only sign is unexplained tumor formation. The Rosalia Virus inhibits the tumor suppression gene. The infected cell then replicates, forming a tumor."
"So, we can't see the virus, but it'll make tumors," Maria scowls, who is far too used to seeing the unnatural things from first response. "Great."
"No kidding," Gabe agrees gravely. "But, we're just getting to the best part. Once the latent virus replicates enough, the next step begins. The virus fragments merge into their full form, and then attach to organs and veins, forming colonies. A couple hundred million of 'em start eating nearby cells."
"Is that what those bruises are?" CR-S01 asks quietly, speaking up for the first time. His eyes are downcast, only momentarily flickering up at the screen. His ears hear more than his eyes can see.
"That's right," says Gabe. "Those black bruises are the dying cells' voiceless screams."
And CR-S01 remembers those patients. The so-called Kaposi's sarcoma operation Gabe had asked him to do, so long ago... black bruises had been clawing the infected area. Not to mention the same bruise he had encountered with Maria as he stormed into the Cumberland Medical Center...
Now all the doctors' heads are bowed; Maria can remember those horrible black bruises appearing just short moments ago; Hank reflects on his own battle with the discolored bones; Tomoe's breath coming in short whenever she thinks of the horrible eruptions of red on black under the bone fragments...
Among them, Gabe and Naomi are hit the worst. Although none of Gabe's patients had died in front of him, Samuel Trumbull from USAMRIID had indeed passed away. He can still see the pigment spots etched onto the patient's skin, those strange symptoms that had haunted him... but Naomi has suffered through worst. In her cases, the victims are already dead, from the virus, or killed by the infected. Veronica Cage, Alma Parker, Abby Parker, Stephen Eldred, and eventually, Sandra Lieberman, the trump card.
"It doesn't end there," Naomi whispers. "The colony continues to grow. Once the colony reaches a certain size, it bursts. There's no way to stop the viruses that break free... Veins, organs, bones... they devour anything they find."
Bathed by the eerie glow of RONI's enlarged form, Tomoe fiercely speaks up. "How can we save the infected? Is there any way to stop?"
"No such method exists," is RONI's solemn answer.
"Wha...?" Hank cries.
"That's right," says Gabe sullenly. "The patient has three days after the explosion. Excision of tumors and colonies won't eradicate the virus. And as there's no vaccine, all of America will die in a week."
"Seven days?" Tomoe gasps, shock in her voice. "That... can't be..."
"So we just give up?" Maria shouts, finally losing her temper at a nonexistent source. "Screw that! There's no way in Hell I'll-"
On the other side of the conference table, although all six surgeons stand, Naomi's cold yet calm voice interrupts. "No. We find the only possible option we have."
"Only option?" Maria repeats. "What possibilities-"
Maria and Naomi's bickering has sunken into CR-S01's head as he struggles to pull up something from his past. Again, Maria is interrupted by the young escapee. "An antiserum."
"An antiserum?" Hank quotes.
"I was considering that," says CR-S01, who knows this virus better than anyone, for he helped create it, and it's his responsibility to fight it, just like how Naomi fought GUILT to the very end after her Delphi days. "If the virus came from Rosalia, then she must've been infected with it at that point. But, she sent a letter to Maria three years later. Doesn't that sound odd to you?"
"Wh-What's so odd about that?" Maria answers, frowning.
CR-S01 looks down at the picture on the table. "There is no cure…" He says slowly. "Yet she was infected without falling ill. She's a natural host."
Tomoe's eyes widen. "Natural host!"
"An organism that coexists with an infectious virus." Hank adds, explaining.
"We'll need to get a sample of her blood for an antiserum." Gabe says, excitement shining in his eyes. "There's no other way!"
The doctors are stirring now in the anticipation of even a tiny flicker of hope; maybe it isn't over yet. Maybe they have one last source to fight from...
Maria's eyes gaze off into the distance. "Rose…" she says under her breath, thinking things through in her head. Suddenly, her gaze snaps back into focus. "W-Wait a sec! This place is under quarantine! Flights are grounded! How the hell are we gonna get to Mexico?"
"What else can we do?" Gabe asks, who had been briefed by her earlier on Rosalia's situation. "Sit here, do nothing, and wait to die? Impossible or not, we've got to do it!"
Then, the door swings open, startling fast, that all six doctors spin around in unison to face the stranger: "My helicopter is on the roof."
Gabe, surprised, spins around, to stare into the face of Agent Holden, who must've been eavesdropping fast. "We need it to get past the quarantine perimeter," the agent says, apparently having been listening the whole time, but never bothering to interrupt until now.
CR-S01, surprised, takes a step backwards. "You… Why are you here?"
"Once this is over, I'll have to arrest you. Got it?" the hostile voice replies harshly.
Gabe steps between the two men, staring each other down. "We all owe you one," he says to Ian Holden. "Thanks."
Inside the claustrophobic space of Agent Holden's helicopter, Maria, Ian Holden, and Naomi wait for the rotors of the helicopter to warm up. Why the three of them had been chosen, and why CR-S01 hadn't bothered to tag along to see his sister, are unknown, but obviously, saving lives to CR-S01 is so important, he'd sacrifice a long-anticipated meeting with his sister.
"Let's go!" Agent Holden says to Maria, who is sitting at the controls, as always.
"Yeah!" she answers, grinning, pulling up on the control stick.
The helicopter slowly rises off the pad on top of Resurgam First Care, leaving the remaining four doctors standing isolated on the roof: CR-S01, his eyes following the helicopter's path until it leaves the roof; Hank, tough and stricken; Gabe, still smoking; and Tomoe, arms crossed, a shadow passing over her face.
"All right, then," Gabe says, still staring up at the sky. "Shall we get back to business?"
"Indeed." Hank answers, staring at who-knows-where, since you can't see his eyes. "This is our fight now. We'll keep this place safe! Let's go!"
The four doctors: Gabriel Cunningham, Hank Freebird, Tomoe Tachibana, and CR-S01 walk back towards the elevator down, all of them wondering how their friends in the helicopter are doing.
"We don't have enough transfusion packs! Hurry, get more!" Esha Patel commands one of the OR Nurses. Then, she turns to see Gabe standing in the doorway. "You!"
"Don't glare at me like that." Gabe says. "We've got the transfusions."
Hank steps in behind Gabe. "Rosalia bruises on the back… might be spinal infection."
"All right, let's start." Gabe says. Then, to Esha, in an irritated tone: "You're in the way. Move it."
"What? Hey, guys…" But she's already gone from the room.
Gabe gives a sigh. "Phew. I can't put up with all that noise."
Hank gives a chuckle in reply.
Gabe frowns. "What's so funny?"
Hank just smiles. "I'm glad you're back. I'm going to rely on you."
"Heh. You're always making a big deal out of everything. Come on! Let's hurry and get this over with, partner!"
"Right!" says Hank, back to the business on hand, approaching the patient. But before he picks up a scalpel, though, Gabe interrupts.
"Yo, do you remember that odd patient we had to get charts for?"
"Odd patient?" Hank quotes. "Oh, the one with the spinal tumor!"
"Right," says Gabe, nodding. "This one's condition is very similar to that patient from before. I'm afraid it's the same focus."
"I see," says Hank slowly. "So, this patient also suffers from ependymoma?"
"Yeah," Gabe answers grimly. "There's no doubt about it. Handle the treatment with that in mind."
"You got it. Let's do this!"
Hank truly picks up the scalpel now, and opens the patient up. He quickly excises the three vertebral arches and opens up the dura mater. Time is the enemy.
The spine opens up, and they immediately find the giant tumor hidden within. Bit by bit, Hank excises the tumor, careful to not damage the outer walls of the dura mater.
I'm not going to be beaten. I will save this patient, no matter what!
Hank removes the last of the ependymoma, and Gabe nods in satisfaction. "Alright, we've treated the ependymoma. Now, let's move onto... hey, what's up?"
Hank has fallen silent, leaning back slightly. "That's not true," he murmurs.
"Not true? What are you talking about?"
"I remember now," he says, sweat trickling down his face, although the operation room isn't specifically hot. "It's the same as before..."
As if on cue, shadowy figures crawls onto the spine, so contrasting from the white bones it slowly takes over. The black fingers, clutching the spine within its deathly grasp, pulling it ever closer, refusing to let go.
The Rosalia bruises.
"Wh-What the hell is this?" Gabe cries. "The bruises are moving!"
Indeed, the black shadows waver back and forth, as if carried by the wind. "I knew it!" Hank mutters. "That patient had these bruises, too!"
As he says those words, another foreign thing creeps into the dura mater: a dark shape with veins attaching it to the spine it holds onto.
"It's finally shown itself," says Gabe, breaths coming in sharply now. "It's the virus colony!"
"I wish I knew more about it, before I try removing it," Hank whispers. "But... there's no other choice! Beginning extraction!"
He decides to detach it by severing the blood vessels that holds the tumor to the dura mater. The moment those are gone, he uses the forceps to extract the evil object hiding in the patient's spine.
"Alright, that should do it..." Gabe's next words are cut off.
"No, not yet. Something's coming... don't relax!"
Sure enough, another tumor comes, and this time, the blood vessels are moving, to the pulse and rhythm of the heart, and Hank has a really hard time removing them. Halfway through, the mucus created by the tumor connects the vessels again, forcing him to start over. Biting his lip and watching anxiously, Gabe cannot find something to do to help.
After two tries, Hank finally manages to remove it, and detaches it from the dura mater. Just when he thinks it's over, a third colony shows up.
"What the... this colony is different from the others!" Hank breathes.
"It doesn't matter!" Gabe orders sharply. "Whatever it is, we have to extract it!"
The third colony's vessels... are moving.
With no choice, Hank is forced to learn the seemingly random motions the veins move in, trying to severe them without cutting the wrong thing. Several seconds slip by, and he begins to tire, losing the feel of the scalpel clutched in his gloved hands...
Focus, he forces himself. You can do this. For your comrades. For your friends. For your patients. For humanity. You can save this life...
He finally succeeds in severing the third vessel, and a fourth appears, only to be replaced by a fifth. Sweating profusely now, Hank can only struggle to keep the patient alive as Gabe injects another vial of stabilizer for him.
Finally, after what seems like eternity, the last vessel disappears, and both Hank and Gabe breathe a sigh of relief. Taking a deep breath, Hank starts drilling holes for the screws to go through, in order to close up the spine.
Screwing in the screws is old stuff, things Hank has several already, and then comes securing up the spine, with rods.
"The rod goes through the screws you just inserted," Gabe warns. "Watch the guideline!"
Hank smoothly guides the rods throughout the spine, and finishes the operation with the stapler. "All right... operation complete."
"You can't get excited yet, though," Gabe sighs. "There's still a lot of patients out there."
"Right!" Hank declares. "let's get this guy out of here and bring in the next patient!"
"Sheesh... we've got another patient incoming," Gabe mutters, watching the progress. "This is gonna be a pain..."
"Crying about it won't help anybody," Hank cautions. "Let's make sure we're ready!"
"You're so damn serious all the time," Gabe rolls his eyes, exasperated. "Looks like we don't have a choice...!"
"All right, this treatment's complete!" Gabe shouts, bending over another patient.
"Dr. Cunningham!" Emma shouts, running up. "This patient's convulsing!"
"Dammit..." Gabe snarls. "It just never ends!"
"Just go!" Hank shouts, sweat beading over his face. "Leave this place to me!"
"All right," Gabe agrees reluctantly. "I'll see you later!"
"Bring some ribivirin!" Hank calls after him. "Just in case we need it for next time..." His head lowers and inhales a deep breath, whispering: "Miss Kimishima, Maria... I believe in you! Come on..."
The field is still littered with the infected, the deceased, and doctors still running around. The only hope to end this pandemic is to find Rosalia – and all that rests upon the shoulders of Ian Holden, Maria Torres, and Naomi Kimishima.
I'm sorry, I didn't notice that I haven't updated in a month. (very sarcastic)
But seriously, sorry for the long wait. Today, on Sunday, May 29th, everything goes on. Everything. Seriously, if you're wondering why I took a month getting five chapters ready, let's just say that you should look at the word count for Carpet of Blue Death.
And why have I waited this long?
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOCKINGJAYFIRE! *hugs* I WON'T KILL NAOMI FOR A WEEK! (and then kill her again)
Word count for this chapter: 3282 words.
~fk
