Hallways Part Four

"What have you got for me Nat?" Stephen's voice sounded strange, echoing, distorted inside his suit.

"Well, not much at the minute. All the victims were killed by the same infection, so at least we're not looking at multiple infection sources. It attacks the lungs and respiratory system."

"How long do we have?"

"Anything up to a dozen hours to the victim becomes symptomatic. Then another five to seven until death." She hesitated, reluctant to ask. "Have there been any more cases?"

"Not so far." Stephen sounded exhausted. "Richardson did a good job in isolating anybody that had been symptomatic."

"Well, it's defiantly airborne, so we can rule out food or water. I think it's something in that building."

"Thanks Natalie." Stephen broke the connection with her. Leaning against the wall. Taking a moment, just to think through the problem. He pressed another button. "Frank, where are you?"

There was a moments silence, worryingly filled with static.

"In Mr Patterson's apartment. Checking through his medicine cupboard and his fridge."

"No. Forget that. Natalie's finished the autopsy. It's airborne, and it's not specific to any one apartment. It's in the whole damn building."

"So where do you want me?"

"According to Eva, the owner's just had a new heating system fitted and the whole building repainted. That must be the source."

He heard Frank moving as he laboured himself to his feet. "I'll get on it."

"How are you feeling?"

"Okay, Dr McCabe." Patricia stared at her father, trying not to look at Miles as he took more of her blood, flinching in brief pain as the needle pierced her vein. Michael tightened his arm around her , watching as the crimson liquid seeped from her into the small glass vial.

"Well, you're being very brave, sweetheart." Miles took the needle away, pressing his gloved fingers against the small wound on the girls arm. "Just keep your hand against this. Good girl."

He closed the top on the vial and put it in the carry case. He stood slowly, stiffly. He was exhausted, drained, already.

And he knew things were only going to get worse.

"Dr McCabe." Michael Ashton stopped him at the door. "How does it look?"

"We wont know for sure until we get her blood analyzed, but at the minute, she's doing okay."

Michael glanced at the door of his daughters room. "She's a fighter okay. Takes that after her mother."

Miles tried to smile, putting a gloved, impersonal hand on the man's shoulder. "The next few hours are critical, but if she gets through that…" He let the words trail off, not wanting to give the man any false hope.

Michael wiped away a traitorous tear. "Thank you Dr McCabe."

"Patrick Washington. Fancy meeting you here."

Patrick grinned, his teeth bright and sharp. "Eva Rossi. I was wondering when you were going to show up"

"What made you think we were going to show up at all?" She reversed direction, trying to keep him off balance.

He closed the distance between them easily. "There's a Jersey apartment block under quarantine, NIH personnel entering it in containment suits…Come on Eva, tell me what's going on."

"There's nothing going on."

"Bullshit." He stepped a little closer to her, his aftershave filling her nostrils. "We've known each other for a long time, Eva."

"You know I cant tell you anything, Patrick."

"So there is something to tell?"

She smiled. "No comment." She turned again and started to walk off.

"Would it help if I bought you a drink?"

"Just one drink Patrick? Come on, you can do better than that!" She laughed as she walked away, putting an extra sway in her hips, knowing his eyes were on her.

He phoned her before she reached her car.

"What if I bought you dinner as well?"

"Dr McCabe! Dr McCabe! Wait!"

Miles stopped, his hand, holding the carry case, stretching out towards the paramedics. "What's wrong?"

Michael came running towards him, his face pale with fear and panic. "It's Patricia. She's started coughing up blood."