" ER/The Stand Part 2"
The army officer glared at her. Kerry found herself suddenly wondering just what the man had been saying. She had started to tune the rather abrasive fellow out a few minutes into his tirade about how the staff was slowly but surely either dying or running off. She shifted position, leaning hard on her crutch. It was always worse when she was tired and she was exhausted to the point that she couldn't quite distinguish between the pain in her leg and the thumping migraine in her head. " What did you say?"
" I said, " the captain snarled, " that my people are your number one priority. We're protecting this place from all the damn rioting scum. If you think you'd last a minute without us...." He leaned over her, obviously trying to intimidate her. She wasn't a fool. In any other situation, a hulking muscular man with scotch on his breath stepping into her personal space and raising his voice would have put fear in her heart. Captain Harold Walker was sniffling though, and it did not take a brilliant doctor to diagnose that symptom. You're doomed, she thought as she looked him in the eye, you may not realize it yet but you are as dead as the civilians you've been shooting out in the streets. She didn't feel sympathetic in the slightest. The man was a brute and a beast. He had set up a perimeter around the hospital and had given orders to shoot looters and rioters. The definition of "looters and rioters" had evidently been expanded to include "anyone we feel like shooting". The killing had escalated as the panic in the city had increased. It had slowed down again as the captain's men had taken ill. Almost a third of the patients in the ER were soldiers and they were dying just as fast as everyone else. Some even quicker as they accidently shot each other. Finally, she decided to respond to the captain.
" Your men are welcome to come here for medical care." She kept her voice curt and harsh. The second she showed any trace of fear, he'd jump on it and there were people in the ER that needed the protection she was giving by acting as a buffer between them and the captain. Besides, she wasn't terribly concerned about living or dying. After all was said and done, she doubted there would be very much to look forward too. She pushed him back. " Just understand, we work *in* the hospital. They need to come in here for treatment. None of my people are risking their lives with half of your men shooting anything that moves." She supposed they were her people anyway. Don Anspagh was dead, as was most of the surgical staff. Elizabeth Corday was dead, and she had been shot by one of the soldiers. Whether it was an accident or on purpose, no one knew. Kerry was simply thankful that Elizabeth had died instantly and had been spared the ravages of the disease that was killing everyone else. Elizabeth had been sick, which was why she volunteered to run out to the perimeter when there was so much gunfire. Elizabeth had also admitted to her that she knew the odds of anyone with the flu surviving.
Walker pushed her back into the admit desk. " I say who goes where, got it?"
Despite her exhaustion, she felt her temper flare. " No, I say where the doctors and nurses go. In case you hadn't noticed, there's not too many of us left and since I don't see your supply sergeant going to medical school, I say where we go. Got it?" She glared at him, sensing that he wasn't yet to the point where he would shoot a crippled woman in the head over a disagreement. Not yet, anyway.
" Don't screw with me, bitch!" He smacked her open hand across the face, hard. Hard enough to send her flying into the wall, but he stalked away. It was a victory, if a pyrrhic one, she thought as she slowly pulled herself up. For a little bit, at least, he would leave the hospital alone. If the disease progressed as quickly as it had in all of the other patients, she didn't think she'd have to face the bastard alive again. At least I have something to look forward to, she thought as she limped off to the bathroom.
The bathroom was one of the few rooms that didn't have patients littered on gurneys or on the floor. There was a nurse propped into the corner, rasping weakly. It was one of the maternity nurses. Kerry didn't remember her name. She bent over the nurse, placing her hand on the young woman fevered brow. She was going to die, Kerry thought, and there's absolutely nothing I can do except watch. She forced that thought away. Part of being a doctor was seeing people die and even then there was still a role to play. " Hey, " she said softly, " how are you feeling? Do you want anything? Some water, an ice pack maybe?"
The woman shook her head, but reached up and gripped Kerry's hand. She rasped out one last breath and then she was still. At least, Kerry thought, she didn't die all alone. That had to be the worst possible way to go. She carefully set the woman's hand down and stepped away. For one frightening moment she blanked out completely. Finally she came back to awareness, feeling more than a little lightheaded. Why did I come in here, she asked herself. To wash my hands and calm down. She limped over to the row of sinks, noting with concern that the lights were flickering again. When it finally stopped, it seemed dimmer. Another transformer must have gone, she thought as she turned the water on. The water felt cold and brisk and she rolled up her labcoat sleeves and let the water run all over her hands and forearms. It was hot and humid and the air conditioning had ground to a halt two days earlier. She splashed some water on her face, noting that she was going to bruise from the captain's blow. Then she ran her hands through her hair and looked in the mirror.
I look awful, she thought. I feel awful. Her head hurt, it felt as though someone was turning screws behind her eyes. There was a dull, grinding ache in her hip that was shot red hot stripes of pain up her spine every few minutes. Her stomach growled but she knew without even considering it that food was just going to make her throw up. She leaned over the sink and closed her eyes. Just doing that seemed make her feel ten times better. I'm just tired and run down, she thought as she gripped the sink, her eyes still closed.
" Dr. Weaver!" She jumped at the sound of her own name being shouted and pried her eyes open. It was Lucy Knight that had shouted, and the young woman looked half out of her mind from worry. " Dr. Weaver, are you ok? I thought... Didn't you hear me calling you?"
It was simply easier to lie. " Yes... I just... I'm a little tired. What do you need?"
Lucy shook her head. " Everything's pretty steady. I saw Captain Walker hit you...." Her brow screw up with worry lines. If the situation hadn't been nightmarish beyond belief, Kerry would have found some amusement in the sight. Lucy always managed to look far too young to be so uptight. She seemed to come to some sort of decision. " Dr. Weaver, are you.... are you suicidal?"
" What?" She turned, steadying herself as a flash of dizziness washed over her. " What on earth are you talking about?"
Lucy stepped forward, her mouth forming a tight line. " I'm talking about how you just practically dared that crazy army captain to kill you. Do you want to die? Is that why you're refusing to sleep or eat? Are you planning to work yourself to death? That's what it looks like, and we're damn worried. I came in here to make sure you weren't slashing your wrists and I find you almost lying in the sink unconscious. I was shouting at you for five minutes. What are you going to do when we don't have anymore patients?"
It was a good question. She hadn't really thought about what was going to happen once the patients stopped coming. Still, someone had to stay. At least until they were sure that no one else would be coming. People expected to find doctors in hospitals. Leaving would be an admission that the chaos had overtaken everything. Not giving in to it, maintaining control in the face of the horror, that held a certain dignity. She planned to stay until there were no more patients. She would finish the charts, clear the board, and close the doors. After that, her mind held a merciful blank. Finally, she said, " I'm not suicidal. I'm just tired..."
" Then get some sleep. We can handle everything. Carter can cover the patient load." Lucy took a step closer, placing her hand on Kerry's arm. " You've been yelling at all of us to take breaks and eat. You need to take your own advice. Look, the lounge is free. You can lie down on the couch. I'll bring you some juice. I think we have some Oreos too. Come on.... You're starting to scare us, Dr. Weaver."
Lucy's face had a smile and her tone was cajoling. She was using her best "shrink" tactics. It would have made Kerry angry if she had been able to think past her headache but it was pounding as if jack hammers were inside her skull. Black spots flitted across her bleary vision. Instinctively, she knew that, whether she went with Lucy or not, she was about to drop. If she didn't go, it'd only be a few minutes before she was lying on a gurney in one of the exam rooms with Carter or Lucy poking her. There was certainly no dignity in that. " Fine, " she said softly, " but only for a few hours."
She was walking through the front door of the ER. It was brightly lit, she knew that, but somehow it felt as if there were shadows everywhere. It was eerily quiet, the sort of quiet that she occasionally longed for, but never really wanted to hear. It was the quiet of being alone. She didn't mind being alone, she had been alone many times in her life, but that didn't mean she had to like it. She had never felt alone in the ER. It was one of the reasons she liked her job so much. She wasn't popular, but she fit in. People noticed when she wasn't there. She was missed. Every time she was late, and Mark Greene called her with concern in his voice, it gave her a warm feeling. She liked belonging, and she belonged in the busy ER.
She looked around. This place, it looked like her ER, but it felt different. It was too quiet and she was alone. Goosebumps rose on her arms as she looked behind the desk. It was as neat as a pin, with no coffee mugs or food lying around. It was exactly the way she wanted, but in a creepy way it disturbed her. Keeping things neat was almost a game they all played. She complained about how messy it was. Everyone complained about her, and then someone would clean up the worst of the mess. Then the game would start all over again. It was a never ending cycle. It was wrong for it to be so clean. It was strangely final.
As she looked into each room, her unease grew. There was no one there, no one at all. No patients, no doctors, no nurses.... yet everything was exactly where she had tried to insist that it be.
Something's wrong, she told herself as she started to trot down the hallway. Not the fact that she was trotting, that seemed perfectly natural. Trotting, even running from room to room seemed fine. It was the quiet that was making her heart pound, not the racing down the hallways frantically looking in each room for the people that should be there but weren't.
She stopped in front of the door to Trauma One. There's someone in there, she thought, and she felt an icy stab of fear in her heart. She almost stepped away. No, she told herself, this is my ER. I'm in control here. She pushed the door open and stepped in.
The room was cold. She could see her breath as she stepped forward towards the gurney that had a man lying on it. She thought it was a man anyway, judging by the boots he wore and his size. She reached out and touched the man's wrist. It was ice cold, so cold that it stung her fingers and she yanked her hand back.
" So very dedicated..." The patient sat up. The hairs on the back of her neck rose, and she looked away. He spoke again. " It's not just any one that would check me for a pulse. Did you find one?"
" No, " she said softly, still not looking directly at the man. " You're too cold...." She could feel her own face flush with heat. There was something wrong... every instinct she owned was screaming but she couldn't move. There was something darkly compelling about the man's voice.
" Do you like this place? I made it for you. You could have all of this if you wanted. " He chuckled, sending chills down Kerry's spine. " We're not so different you know. We both like everything in its proper place."
She took a deep breath. It felt as though she was strangling even though she could feel the air moving in and out of her lungs. " This... this isn't what I want... This place isn't for healing. It's a dead place..." In her heart, she knew it to be true. A hospital was for people, not things, and this bizarrely neat and empty place was not something she wanted.
" No? Are you sure? Things could be very good for you. " He pointed into the corner. Her crutch was there, gleaming in the harsh light. " I know you hate it. I could see to it that you never need it again..."
Oh that was tempting, she thought suddenly. Only in her dreams did she run the way she used to and only in her dreams was she free from pain. The problem, she realized, was that such a gift had strings attached. And in a moment of sparkling clarity she saw what the price would be. Her soul, her life, everything she held dear. It was too high a price, and despite the temptation, she knew on some deep level within herself that the man was lying. " No... I'd rather stay the way I am." Her voice shook.
" You *do* want it, " he said simply. " You just don't understand what it means to say no. Let me illustrate, Dr. Weaver." He grabbed her arm, twisting her around to face him. She cried out, surprised at the strength of his touch. Now she could feel a pulse. The man's hand thrummed with beats of cold energy. She could feel the cold race through her, and then it exploded into excruciating pain. " Look at me, " he snarled.
She looked. The man had no face. There were only glowing red eyes staring back at her.
She jerked awake, her heart racing, and her hands clenching a small cushion that she had torn holes into. She looked at her hands, and wasn't surprised to see blood where her nails had gone through her skin. She took several deep shuddering breaths, slowly becoming aware that she was in the dimly lit lounge where Lucy had left her. Her crutch was lying right were she had left it, and she wiped her hands on the sofa and picked it up.
" No." She said it out loud, drawing a measure of calm from the word. It had just been a dream. A disturbing dream, but just a sign of how out of control she felt and nothing more. I just need to keep busy, she decided as she pulled herself upright and walked out into the hallway. If I keep busy, everything will be fine and I won't have dreams like that.
She limped over to the main desk. The entire place still sounded like a TB ward and there seemed to be more soldiers lying around. Randi was there at the desk, looking tired but still well. " Randi, what do we have?"
Randi eyed her carefully. " Lucy said you were going to get some sleep, Dr. Weaver."
" I've had enough sleep," she retorted. Randi recoiled a little, and she felt bad suddenly. Randi could have gone home days ago and no one would have cared. For whatever reason, she had stayed and Kerry felt a sudden awkward moment of kinship with that. " Randi, the world is collapsing around us. I think its ok if you use my first name."
" We're at work and you're the doctor, Dr. Weaver." Randi said brightly. She handed Kerry a chart. " There's patients to see."
Yes, Kerry thought tiredly, there certainly were still a lot of patients to see. " Thanks Randi." She slowly moved off towards the exam rooms, grateful for the small touch of normalcy. I think, she told herself, I'll just see more patients. It was better than sleeping.
??
The army officer glared at her. Kerry found herself suddenly wondering just what the man had been saying. She had started to tune the rather abrasive fellow out a few minutes into his tirade about how the staff was slowly but surely either dying or running off. She shifted position, leaning hard on her crutch. It was always worse when she was tired and she was exhausted to the point that she couldn't quite distinguish between the pain in her leg and the thumping migraine in her head. " What did you say?"
" I said, " the captain snarled, " that my people are your number one priority. We're protecting this place from all the damn rioting scum. If you think you'd last a minute without us...." He leaned over her, obviously trying to intimidate her. She wasn't a fool. In any other situation, a hulking muscular man with scotch on his breath stepping into her personal space and raising his voice would have put fear in her heart. Captain Harold Walker was sniffling though, and it did not take a brilliant doctor to diagnose that symptom. You're doomed, she thought as she looked him in the eye, you may not realize it yet but you are as dead as the civilians you've been shooting out in the streets. She didn't feel sympathetic in the slightest. The man was a brute and a beast. He had set up a perimeter around the hospital and had given orders to shoot looters and rioters. The definition of "looters and rioters" had evidently been expanded to include "anyone we feel like shooting". The killing had escalated as the panic in the city had increased. It had slowed down again as the captain's men had taken ill. Almost a third of the patients in the ER were soldiers and they were dying just as fast as everyone else. Some even quicker as they accidently shot each other. Finally, she decided to respond to the captain.
" Your men are welcome to come here for medical care." She kept her voice curt and harsh. The second she showed any trace of fear, he'd jump on it and there were people in the ER that needed the protection she was giving by acting as a buffer between them and the captain. Besides, she wasn't terribly concerned about living or dying. After all was said and done, she doubted there would be very much to look forward too. She pushed him back. " Just understand, we work *in* the hospital. They need to come in here for treatment. None of my people are risking their lives with half of your men shooting anything that moves." She supposed they were her people anyway. Don Anspagh was dead, as was most of the surgical staff. Elizabeth Corday was dead, and she had been shot by one of the soldiers. Whether it was an accident or on purpose, no one knew. Kerry was simply thankful that Elizabeth had died instantly and had been spared the ravages of the disease that was killing everyone else. Elizabeth had been sick, which was why she volunteered to run out to the perimeter when there was so much gunfire. Elizabeth had also admitted to her that she knew the odds of anyone with the flu surviving.
Walker pushed her back into the admit desk. " I say who goes where, got it?"
Despite her exhaustion, she felt her temper flare. " No, I say where the doctors and nurses go. In case you hadn't noticed, there's not too many of us left and since I don't see your supply sergeant going to medical school, I say where we go. Got it?" She glared at him, sensing that he wasn't yet to the point where he would shoot a crippled woman in the head over a disagreement. Not yet, anyway.
" Don't screw with me, bitch!" He smacked her open hand across the face, hard. Hard enough to send her flying into the wall, but he stalked away. It was a victory, if a pyrrhic one, she thought as she slowly pulled herself up. For a little bit, at least, he would leave the hospital alone. If the disease progressed as quickly as it had in all of the other patients, she didn't think she'd have to face the bastard alive again. At least I have something to look forward to, she thought as she limped off to the bathroom.
The bathroom was one of the few rooms that didn't have patients littered on gurneys or on the floor. There was a nurse propped into the corner, rasping weakly. It was one of the maternity nurses. Kerry didn't remember her name. She bent over the nurse, placing her hand on the young woman fevered brow. She was going to die, Kerry thought, and there's absolutely nothing I can do except watch. She forced that thought away. Part of being a doctor was seeing people die and even then there was still a role to play. " Hey, " she said softly, " how are you feeling? Do you want anything? Some water, an ice pack maybe?"
The woman shook her head, but reached up and gripped Kerry's hand. She rasped out one last breath and then she was still. At least, Kerry thought, she didn't die all alone. That had to be the worst possible way to go. She carefully set the woman's hand down and stepped away. For one frightening moment she blanked out completely. Finally she came back to awareness, feeling more than a little lightheaded. Why did I come in here, she asked herself. To wash my hands and calm down. She limped over to the row of sinks, noting with concern that the lights were flickering again. When it finally stopped, it seemed dimmer. Another transformer must have gone, she thought as she turned the water on. The water felt cold and brisk and she rolled up her labcoat sleeves and let the water run all over her hands and forearms. It was hot and humid and the air conditioning had ground to a halt two days earlier. She splashed some water on her face, noting that she was going to bruise from the captain's blow. Then she ran her hands through her hair and looked in the mirror.
I look awful, she thought. I feel awful. Her head hurt, it felt as though someone was turning screws behind her eyes. There was a dull, grinding ache in her hip that was shot red hot stripes of pain up her spine every few minutes. Her stomach growled but she knew without even considering it that food was just going to make her throw up. She leaned over the sink and closed her eyes. Just doing that seemed make her feel ten times better. I'm just tired and run down, she thought as she gripped the sink, her eyes still closed.
" Dr. Weaver!" She jumped at the sound of her own name being shouted and pried her eyes open. It was Lucy Knight that had shouted, and the young woman looked half out of her mind from worry. " Dr. Weaver, are you ok? I thought... Didn't you hear me calling you?"
It was simply easier to lie. " Yes... I just... I'm a little tired. What do you need?"
Lucy shook her head. " Everything's pretty steady. I saw Captain Walker hit you...." Her brow screw up with worry lines. If the situation hadn't been nightmarish beyond belief, Kerry would have found some amusement in the sight. Lucy always managed to look far too young to be so uptight. She seemed to come to some sort of decision. " Dr. Weaver, are you.... are you suicidal?"
" What?" She turned, steadying herself as a flash of dizziness washed over her. " What on earth are you talking about?"
Lucy stepped forward, her mouth forming a tight line. " I'm talking about how you just practically dared that crazy army captain to kill you. Do you want to die? Is that why you're refusing to sleep or eat? Are you planning to work yourself to death? That's what it looks like, and we're damn worried. I came in here to make sure you weren't slashing your wrists and I find you almost lying in the sink unconscious. I was shouting at you for five minutes. What are you going to do when we don't have anymore patients?"
It was a good question. She hadn't really thought about what was going to happen once the patients stopped coming. Still, someone had to stay. At least until they were sure that no one else would be coming. People expected to find doctors in hospitals. Leaving would be an admission that the chaos had overtaken everything. Not giving in to it, maintaining control in the face of the horror, that held a certain dignity. She planned to stay until there were no more patients. She would finish the charts, clear the board, and close the doors. After that, her mind held a merciful blank. Finally, she said, " I'm not suicidal. I'm just tired..."
" Then get some sleep. We can handle everything. Carter can cover the patient load." Lucy took a step closer, placing her hand on Kerry's arm. " You've been yelling at all of us to take breaks and eat. You need to take your own advice. Look, the lounge is free. You can lie down on the couch. I'll bring you some juice. I think we have some Oreos too. Come on.... You're starting to scare us, Dr. Weaver."
Lucy's face had a smile and her tone was cajoling. She was using her best "shrink" tactics. It would have made Kerry angry if she had been able to think past her headache but it was pounding as if jack hammers were inside her skull. Black spots flitted across her bleary vision. Instinctively, she knew that, whether she went with Lucy or not, she was about to drop. If she didn't go, it'd only be a few minutes before she was lying on a gurney in one of the exam rooms with Carter or Lucy poking her. There was certainly no dignity in that. " Fine, " she said softly, " but only for a few hours."
She was walking through the front door of the ER. It was brightly lit, she knew that, but somehow it felt as if there were shadows everywhere. It was eerily quiet, the sort of quiet that she occasionally longed for, but never really wanted to hear. It was the quiet of being alone. She didn't mind being alone, she had been alone many times in her life, but that didn't mean she had to like it. She had never felt alone in the ER. It was one of the reasons she liked her job so much. She wasn't popular, but she fit in. People noticed when she wasn't there. She was missed. Every time she was late, and Mark Greene called her with concern in his voice, it gave her a warm feeling. She liked belonging, and she belonged in the busy ER.
She looked around. This place, it looked like her ER, but it felt different. It was too quiet and she was alone. Goosebumps rose on her arms as she looked behind the desk. It was as neat as a pin, with no coffee mugs or food lying around. It was exactly the way she wanted, but in a creepy way it disturbed her. Keeping things neat was almost a game they all played. She complained about how messy it was. Everyone complained about her, and then someone would clean up the worst of the mess. Then the game would start all over again. It was a never ending cycle. It was wrong for it to be so clean. It was strangely final.
As she looked into each room, her unease grew. There was no one there, no one at all. No patients, no doctors, no nurses.... yet everything was exactly where she had tried to insist that it be.
Something's wrong, she told herself as she started to trot down the hallway. Not the fact that she was trotting, that seemed perfectly natural. Trotting, even running from room to room seemed fine. It was the quiet that was making her heart pound, not the racing down the hallways frantically looking in each room for the people that should be there but weren't.
She stopped in front of the door to Trauma One. There's someone in there, she thought, and she felt an icy stab of fear in her heart. She almost stepped away. No, she told herself, this is my ER. I'm in control here. She pushed the door open and stepped in.
The room was cold. She could see her breath as she stepped forward towards the gurney that had a man lying on it. She thought it was a man anyway, judging by the boots he wore and his size. She reached out and touched the man's wrist. It was ice cold, so cold that it stung her fingers and she yanked her hand back.
" So very dedicated..." The patient sat up. The hairs on the back of her neck rose, and she looked away. He spoke again. " It's not just any one that would check me for a pulse. Did you find one?"
" No, " she said softly, still not looking directly at the man. " You're too cold...." She could feel her own face flush with heat. There was something wrong... every instinct she owned was screaming but she couldn't move. There was something darkly compelling about the man's voice.
" Do you like this place? I made it for you. You could have all of this if you wanted. " He chuckled, sending chills down Kerry's spine. " We're not so different you know. We both like everything in its proper place."
She took a deep breath. It felt as though she was strangling even though she could feel the air moving in and out of her lungs. " This... this isn't what I want... This place isn't for healing. It's a dead place..." In her heart, she knew it to be true. A hospital was for people, not things, and this bizarrely neat and empty place was not something she wanted.
" No? Are you sure? Things could be very good for you. " He pointed into the corner. Her crutch was there, gleaming in the harsh light. " I know you hate it. I could see to it that you never need it again..."
Oh that was tempting, she thought suddenly. Only in her dreams did she run the way she used to and only in her dreams was she free from pain. The problem, she realized, was that such a gift had strings attached. And in a moment of sparkling clarity she saw what the price would be. Her soul, her life, everything she held dear. It was too high a price, and despite the temptation, she knew on some deep level within herself that the man was lying. " No... I'd rather stay the way I am." Her voice shook.
" You *do* want it, " he said simply. " You just don't understand what it means to say no. Let me illustrate, Dr. Weaver." He grabbed her arm, twisting her around to face him. She cried out, surprised at the strength of his touch. Now she could feel a pulse. The man's hand thrummed with beats of cold energy. She could feel the cold race through her, and then it exploded into excruciating pain. " Look at me, " he snarled.
She looked. The man had no face. There were only glowing red eyes staring back at her.
She jerked awake, her heart racing, and her hands clenching a small cushion that she had torn holes into. She looked at her hands, and wasn't surprised to see blood where her nails had gone through her skin. She took several deep shuddering breaths, slowly becoming aware that she was in the dimly lit lounge where Lucy had left her. Her crutch was lying right were she had left it, and she wiped her hands on the sofa and picked it up.
" No." She said it out loud, drawing a measure of calm from the word. It had just been a dream. A disturbing dream, but just a sign of how out of control she felt and nothing more. I just need to keep busy, she decided as she pulled herself upright and walked out into the hallway. If I keep busy, everything will be fine and I won't have dreams like that.
She limped over to the main desk. The entire place still sounded like a TB ward and there seemed to be more soldiers lying around. Randi was there at the desk, looking tired but still well. " Randi, what do we have?"
Randi eyed her carefully. " Lucy said you were going to get some sleep, Dr. Weaver."
" I've had enough sleep," she retorted. Randi recoiled a little, and she felt bad suddenly. Randi could have gone home days ago and no one would have cared. For whatever reason, she had stayed and Kerry felt a sudden awkward moment of kinship with that. " Randi, the world is collapsing around us. I think its ok if you use my first name."
" We're at work and you're the doctor, Dr. Weaver." Randi said brightly. She handed Kerry a chart. " There's patients to see."
Yes, Kerry thought tiredly, there certainly were still a lot of patients to see. " Thanks Randi." She slowly moved off towards the exam rooms, grateful for the small touch of normalcy. I think, she told herself, I'll just see more patients. It was better than sleeping.
??