Chapter 3



In the morning, the father and son team were back in the hospital after a few hours of sleep. They checked in on Jesse first, and were told that he had been sound asleep all night. Mark knew that was to be expected, and he told the nurse that they would be back later.

They moved down the hall to another room where two patients were being kept.

"Darren Thompson and Donna Bradley," Mark told Steve as they knocked on the door.

"Okay," Steve replied as they went in.

They began with Donna, since she seemed to be the more awake of the two. "How are you, Donna?" Mark asked her.

"Still a bit dizzy, but I don't feel quite as sick," Donna responded as she sat up in her bed.

"Okay," Steve said, jumping in. "Donna, I am investigating the person behind this illness with the LAPD. My father is helping me in the case. If you can, please try and answer a few questions for me."

"Sure," Donna agreed.

"Right. What did you do before you started feeling ill?"

"Well, I had left the dentist and…"

"The dentist?" Mark asked.

"Yes," Donna replied. "I had my tooth taken out. That was really bothering me. Dr. Fawkler is a great dentist."

"What kind of anaesthetic did he use?"

"Local," Donna said. "Though, I've got to say, I don't think it worked very well. It was still pretty painful when he took my tooth out."

Mark sat and thought about this, whilst Steve continued questioning. "So, you left the dentist. Where did you go?"

"I walked through the park to get to my apartment," Donna told him. "I was starting to feel a bit ill then. So, I sat on a park bench for a while."

"What then?"

"I opened my eyes and I was being rolled into the hospital."

"Well, that should do for now," Steve said after a moments pause. "If you remember anything else, then tell us."

"Will do," Donna replied with a yawn.

Next, they questioned Darren Thompson. "It was Monday, just after nine in the morning," Darren recounted. "My office was a few blocks away from the dentist, so…"

"The dentist?" Mark repeated again, feeling a slight sense of déjà vu.

"That's where I went to before work," Darren told them. "Tooth extraction."

"Did you have a local anaesthetic for it?" Steve asked him.

"Yeah," Darren replied. "Why?"

"When we find out more, we'll be sure to let you know," Steve said. "So, after you went to the dentist, what then?"

"Well, where I work is a couple of blocks away from the dentist, so I walked. About five minutes, it took me. I sit down at my desk when I get there, and suddenly I start to feel ill. I wait for a couple of minutes, thinking it was the walk that did it and that I need more exercise, but it didn't go away. So, I stand up to go get a glass of water, and then it all went black. Next thing I know, I am on an ambulance heading here."

Mark noted that both of the patients interviewed so far had no recollection of any memory from the time they felt ill until the time that they woke up. This probably meant that when they were asleep, there could be an earthquake going on and they would be none the wiser.

Mark asked Darren whether his theory about the sleeping was true. "It's no light sleep, I can tell you that."

Mark nodded, and he and Steve left the two patients to rest. "We'll question the other patient later," Steve said.

Steve headed back to the police station to inform the Captain of the case he was working on, and to inform him that he was not actually on vacation at that moment. Mark, on the other hand, went back to Jesse's room to check on him.

A nurse was in the room when Mark walked in. "Has the temperature gone down?" Mark asked after giving the nurse a nod in greeting.

"It is still high," the nurse said. "If it has gone down at all, its not gone down by a lot."

"Okay," Mark replied as the nurse left the room. He wondered whether to stay with Jesse or not. If it were Steve lying in the bed, nothing would have been able to prise him away from the room. It would probably be about the same for Amanda, too. Mark was having hesitations about Jesse. He then felt guilty about it, and decided that if he was not in, waiting for Jesse to wake up for a brief moment, then either Amanda or Steve should be. Since Mark had no rounds that morning, and none of the other two were there, Mark pulled up a chair and sat down near Jesse's bedside.

About half an hour later, Mark looked up from his magazine to see that Jesse appeared to be having some kind of bad dream. He was breathing rapidly, shaking slightly and beads of sweat formed on his face. Mark put his magazine aside and went over to where Jesse lay. Jesse looked like he was saying something but it was incoherent.

"Jesse?" Mark shouted to the shaking figure as he held him firmly by the shoulders.

The shout quietened him a bit, and the shaking stopped. After a moment, Jesse opened his eyes. "Mark?" he rasped, trying to catch his breath.

"It's okay," Mark quietened his friend. "Jesse, it's okay."

"What happened?" Jesse asked as his breathing slowed down a bit.

"I think your fever led you to have a nightmare," Mark sighed, sitting back down on the chair.

"A nightmare?" Jesse asked. "Man, I haven't had one of those since," he hesitated, "since I was a kid."

Mark paused for a moment, and then said, "Since your parents divorced?"

"Yeah."

Mark decided to move away from the subject. "How do you feel now? Physically, that is."

"Well, still feel hot, tired, not with it," Jesse reeled off his symptoms. "Just the same as before."

"You still have that fever," Mark said. "No wonder you're having bad dreams."

"I hate this," Jesse said, raising his voice. "I hate just lying here, and being helpless."

"Okay, Jesse," Mark tried to calm him down. Mark was going to say something, but he decided against it. After all, if Mark were in his position, he would feel just the same as Jesse, and no advice would make him feel any better. Instead, he said, "there are ways you can help. If you know anything, anything at all, tell us straight away."

Jesse nodded. He felt bad for shouting at his friend, especially since Mark had done nothing wrong.

"Sorry Mark," Jesse replied solemnly.

"You don't have to be sorry," Mark told him. "It is by no means your fault that you are here, and so you have nothing to be sorry about."

"Okay," he said, after thinking about what Mark had said. After a pause, he added, "and thanks for being here."

"Anytime," Mark replied, glad to see that he had made the right decision by staying with his friend.



Later, after Mark had finished the few rounds he had that day, Steve met his father in the Doctors' Lounge.

"Ready to do some more investigating?" Steve asked him, contemplating whether to have some coffee before they started.

"Ready when you are," Mark said, leaving his seat.

Steve decided against the coffee, and headed down the hall with his father to the other patient that needed to be questioned.

"Christina Morris," Steve began. "I'm Lieutenant Steve Sloan, and this is Dr Mark Sloan, my father. We are investigating this disease that you have."

"Okay," Christina said, sitting up in bed.

"What we need to know is, what were you doing right before you passed out?"

"Well, I had just been to the dentist, and had one of my teeth taken out. It was really bothering me, that one right at the back."

"What happened afterwards?"

"Well, I was sitting at the bus-stop, waiting for the bus to arrive. I remember I felt slightly ill when I was there, but I just assumed that it was because of the anaesthetic. Then, I woke up here."

"It's exactly the same as the others," Mark pondered as Steve continued.

"Could you tell me the name of your dentist please, and where his practice is?"

Christina gave him the relevant information, then Steve said goodbye and wished her better.

"Are you going to Colin Fawkler's?"

"It's Saturday, it won't be open," Steve replied.

"His house?"

"Well," Steve started, "I thought I'd drop by to see how Jesse is. How's he doing?"

"Not too bad, but his fever is still very high. If it keeps up, he'll probably start being delirious when he's awake. It's already given him nightmares."

"Can't you make it lower?" Steve asked.

"We are controlling it, not letting it go much higher," Mark explained, "but it is difficult."

Steve nodded. He headed along to Jesse's room, and opened the door to see him out of bed and hanging with his arms out of the window.

"Oh my…" Steve muttered under his breath, sprinting over to where Jesse was. He thought his friend was going to end it all there and jump out of the window.

"Jesse?" Steve asked, slowly coming up behind him and standing next to him.

"Hi," Jesse greeted. He seemed to be concentrating on the ground.

"Jess, what are you looking at?" Steve asked, glad to see that his friend was probably not going to jump.

"There was this guy," Jesse explained. "He came in through the window, and he had a syringe. Anyway, he saw I was awake, so he went again. By the time I got out of bed, this guy was gone." Jesse suddenly swayed, and Steve had to grab him before he landed on the floor. "Whoa, feel a bit dizzy…"

Steve decided that delirium had taken its toll over Jesse. He led him back to his bed. "If my Dad catches you out of bed, he'll go wild!"

"Steve, there was a guy, he came through the window with a syringe, and then he left back out the window again. Wouldn't you get up out of bed?"

"Probably," Steve replied unsurely. "But, I wouldn't go leaning out of the window."

"You're mocking me, aren't you?"

"Jesse," Steve sat down on the chair, ready to explain. "You have a fever. Meaning, you are getting delirious, and you are starting to see things."

"I saw that," Jesse stated firmly. "I know what I saw, and I saw a man climb through the window with a syringe, see me awake, and climb out again."

"Jess, I think you need some sleep," Steve concluded.

"What's the time?"

"Four in the afternoon."

"Steve! Why aren't you on your vacation?"

"Oh," Steve replied with a grin. "Well, you fainted and left such a huge crack in my dashboard, I had to take my truck in for repairs."

"Steve, I'm so sorry! You could have taken my car, and I'll pay for repairs and everything…"

"Jess, I'm kidding! I couldn't go with you here, like this. It wouldn't be the same without you."

Steve sat and talked with Jesse for a few more minutes before his friend drifted off to sleep again. Steve left the room, only to run into his father.

"He's just gone to sleep," Steve told him. "He's having some strange mood swings or something in there."

"I noticed that too," Mark replied. "I'm putting it down to the fever."

"That another thing," Steve continued, "I think delirium set in. He said something about a man came in his window with a syringe and then climbed out again."

Mark nodded, but did not say anything more about the matter. Instead, he said, "Steve, are you going to check out that dentist yet?"

"Are you busy?"

"Your car or mine?"