Dr. Elena Gilbert is dressed in black, observing one of the many funerals in the Four Corners area since the deadly outbreak started. It didn't take long to realize that something serious is happening. The something is a pattern of sudden illnesses and quick deaths at hospitals in New Mexico and Arizona.

In April, a young Navajo woman arrived at the Medical Center emergency room in Gallup, complaining of flu-like symptoms and sudden, severe shortness of breath. Her chest x-ray found the woman's lungs to be full of fluid, and she died soon after her arrival despite all of the life-saving measures Elena and her team made. The autopsy revealed the woman's lungs to be twice the normal weight for someone her age.

Five days later, a young Navajo man, was en route to a funeral when he suddenly became severely short of breath. By the time the ambulance arrived with him to the emergency room, he had stopped breathing and the paramedics were performing cardiopulmonary resuscitation. The young man could not be revived and died soon after. Elena, recalling the similar symptoms and death of the young woman, reported their deaths to the New Mexico Department of Health.

Within a short time, a dozen more people contracted the mysterious illness, most of them young Navajos in New Mexico. This included two relatives of the young couple who had died within a week of each other.

After the young man died, she called a colleague at Crownpoint Health Care, Dr. Vincent Griffith to compare notes. Phone calls whiz back and forth, and, within days, a task force is formed in Albuquerque that includes Dr. Elena Gilbert as chief of medicine at the Gallup Medical Center.

Elena learned from the young man's family members that his fiancé had the same symptoms and died on the Navajo Reservation five days earlier. Deaths on the reservations are not reported to the state health department because they are sovereign nations. Elena had considered plague as the cause because it is endemic to the region, but it had already been ruled out by tests on all of the victims. At her behest, the State Health Department notified the CDC.

As soon as the casket is lowered into the ground, Elena gives her regards and starts to walk back to her vehicle. Just as she's putting her foot on the brake to start her car, her cellphone rings.

"This is Dr. Gilbert."

"It's me, Elena. There was a man here looking for you. He's from the CDC in Atlanta... and he's hot!" Caroline adds as an afterthought.

"Finally, some help!"

"He left to get a hotel. Said he'd be back a little later."

"I'm heading back now," Elena clicks off her phone and tosses it in her bag. After checking traffic, she pulls out of the parking lot and into the flow of traffic, her foot pressing on the gas pedal in her haste to get back to the hospital.


Feeling a little fatigued, Elena makes an abrupt turn into one of the gas stations to fill her tank and pick up an energy drink. Walking inside, she heads straight for the sodas. Staring at the selection, she's about to take the last Red Bull Pomegranate when a hand reaches in front of her and snatches it.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? I was going to grab that!" Elena contends.

"I guess you weren't quick enough," The man replies snarkily as he turns to face her.

Elena's mesmerized for a millisecond by how blue his eyes are.

"Please! I need that. I have to go back to work!"

"Dressed like that?" Damon replies, waggling his brows sexily at her.

"Seriously?" Elena's brows draw together as she scrutinizes him.

"I picked it up first. There are several others to choose from," Blue eyes points out, waving his hand over the energy drink section.

Under different circumstances, her heart would be somersaulting in her chest, but this jerk just filched the drink right out of her hand.

"You, sir, are not a gentleman," Elena spits out, anger heating her blood. She glowers at him, grabs another can, and walks away without looking back despite having the overwhelming urge to stick her tongue out at him.


Snapping open the can, Elena takes a long swallow before driving out of the gas station. She catches a glimpse of that man in her rearview mirror. Her hands grip the steering wheel tightly. That smug asshole made her already bad day worse! "Urgh!" she grumbles loudly as she merges into the flow of traffic.

Twenty minutes later, Elena enters her office, dropping her empty can in the recycle bin. After slipping on her lab coat, she sits down at her desk to look at the latest ER census and to see if any other people have been admitted with the same type of symptoms.

Just as she's settled in the comfort of her chair, there's a knock at the door. "Come in, Caroline." When nothing happens, Elena rolls her eyes and gets up to open it.

It's not Caroline.

It's a man, thirties, she'd guess, and very nicely put together.

"Are you Dr. Elena Gilbert?"

He's wearing a vaguely familiar smirk and his handsome features do nothing to sway her from the color of his eyes.

They're like the ocean, a shimmering and crashing beneath the sunset kind of blue.

Elena's face twists as she feels a stab of anger. "You!"


"Well, that's not the reaction I usually get from women," Damon states haughtily as he waggles his brows.

He's a confident piece of work, she'll give him that. He's wearing a fitted grey t-shirt, his low-hanging jeans that sculpt him to a T, and his stubble would feel amazing against...

"Dr. Gilbert?" the man asks, snapping Elena out of her musings.

"Why are you here?" Elena demands to know, trying to push back the irritation that is pricking at her insides.

"Obviously we got off on the wrong foot over a can of Red Bull no less!"

"That was the last one," Elena snaps back.

He wishes he had a comeback for her, but at that precise moment, the distraction of another sort overtakes his senses. Standing this close to her, he can smell her perfume, can feel the heat of her body, can hear the hitch in her breath when his gaze drifts from her brown doe eyes down to her rosy parted lips. It's as if his body has just awakened and noticed the very attractive woman standing indecently close to him.

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, nibbling at it nervously, and his fingers twitch painfully at his side, the desire to pry her lip free and soothe it with his thumb damn near impossible to resist. There is no denying that Elena Gilbert is stunningly beautiful.

Snapping out of it, he steps back and offers his hand. "Can we call a truce here? I'm Dr. Damon Salvatore from the CDC."

Elena's eyes narrow as she stares at it.

"C'mon–" Damon pauses a second, "–It's Elena, right?"

He makes her name sound the way warm chocolate tastes. "Fine," Elena sighs and shakes his hand. She feels a jolt of electricity burst from every nerve.

Her fingertips dig into her palms. "I had a really crappy day, and the last thing I needed was you making it worse. I was dressed in black because I had just left another funeral."

"Would it make you feel better if I said I'm sorry?" Damon offers, tilting his head slightly as he stares at her.

"Not really–" she pauses, "-well, maybe a little." Elena finally smiles but just barely.

Damon raises his arms in surrender. "Why don't we sit down and you can tell me about what's going on down here. I gave up two weeks laying on the golden sands of Hawaii to come here and help you out. So, Dr. Gilbert, can we start over?"

"Yes, of course. I need your help. Have a seat." Elena points to a chair. "I'm going to get a cup of coffee. Do you want one and how do you take it?"

"Yes, thank you. I like it black, rock gut if you have it," Damon states with a smirk.

"I'll be right back, Dr. Salvatore," Elena calls over her shoulder as she slips out of her office. As soon as she's around the corner, she leans against the wall and fists her hands in a tight knuckle grip in an attempt to blow off a little steam.


"Thank you," Damon states and takes a gulp of his coffee.

"You're welcome," Elena smiles as she takes a seat.

Damon scoots up his chair and meets Elena's stare. "Tell me what you know."

"One day 21-year-old Jasmine Woods was healthy; the next day she could no longer breathe and died abruptly. It wasn't alarming, she did have a history of severe asthma," Elena pauses to take a swallow.

"But five days later her fiance, a runner Meryl Aimes, 20, died too. He began gasping for air during the 55-mile drive across the state from the couple's trailer in Little Water, New Mexico, to her funeral in Gallup. His horrified sister-in-law stopped at a general store and dialed 9-11. According to her, he paced, was agitated, his skin tinged with yellow, his lips and fingernails turning blue. He was a physically healthy, very fit person who just died, very rapidly in my emergency room."

Damon nods as he listens intently.

"Autopsies showed that both had essentially drowned, their lungs soaked with serum from their own blood. And we don't know why."

"After talking to some of my colleagues in other area hospitals, I began to see a pattern. There are three other people, all young, healthy Navajo people who died of respiratory distress during the past six months."

"Okay, that's interesting. So now you have five people dead. Did you consider Bubonic Plague? It does crop up from time to time in this area."

"Yes, I did, Dr. Salvatore, but the results of autopsies on Aimes and one of the other young people were negative for plague, as well as for the common causes of pneumonia and the fast-moving strep-A pneumonia."

"The involvement of the lungs suggests some germ that can spread through the air, but from what you've said, virtually all the victims are young and at the peak of their resistance to disease? Airborne infectious agents can't pick and choose their hosts," Damon offers, his brows furrowed in concentration.

"You're right. But then why did the disease claim Meryl and Jasmine and not their six-month-old daughter and why are there no-mild cases?"

"Have you considered any of the other plague variants?" Damon asks.

"Yes, Dr. Salvatore..." Elena answers succinctly, struggling against the irritation she feels.

"Please call me Damon."

"Damon," she starts when an overhead announcement interrupts.

"Code Blue, ER. Code Blue ER."

"I have to go," Elena jumps up and hurries out of her office with Damon following hot on her heels.


Thank you all for reading. I did finally finish the story. Most chapters are on the shorter side. It's based on a true story which I'll include a blurb about at the end like I do all of my reality-based stories.

Thank you, Eva.

I always go through a draught of plot ideas after finishing something. I can't promise I'll write them but if you have ideas, feel free to share.

Be safe and have a wonderful day. See you next time.