Chapter 13. Poker Face

House wasn't ready to end the conversation with Cameron just yet. "What about Vivian?" he asked.

"Oh, I've been trying to get some information out of her, but she's still having periods of shortness of breath. And her blood pressure is low, just like the other patients. She did say she's a non-smoker," Cameron said. "So something else made her susceptible."

"Well, keep trying to get it out of her."

"I will," she promised.

After she hung up, he stared at the phone for a while but Pete brought him out of his thoughts by asking, "Are you ready to finish dealing?"

House picked up the deck again, "How many cards you have?"

"Four," Pete said, holding them up, face side down.

House nodded, and dealt them each a fifth card.

"So Doc Cameron is calling Carol Davis?" Pete asked. "Two cards." He discarded two of the ones he'd been dealt.

House gave him two more and finally looked at his hand while he pondered how much to tell Pete about Allison Cameron. He had a nine of spades, jack of diamonds, six and two of clubs and nine of hearts. Keeping the two nines and the face card, he dealt himself two more, the jack of spades and eight of hearts.

A frown had flitted across Pete's face when he looked at his new cards, but it was quickly gone. House, on the other hand, kept his expression neutral. "What are the stakes here?"

Pete looked around the room, but of course, aside from House's bag and some of the items he'd gotten at the drugstore, there was nothing of value. "How 'bout, whoever wins gets ta ask a question of t'other one, and the loser has ta answer."

"Then can I raise it to two questions?" House asked.

"You sure you wanna do that, Sonny?" Pete asked with an eyebrow wiggle.

"OK. For this game, let's make it one. What've you got?"

"Three lovely ladies!" Pete said, displaying his queens with a flourish.

House quickly hid his surprise. Pete was a better poker player than he thought. "So, what do you want to know?" He expected another question about Cameron, and was surprised again by Pete's question.

"If I was poisoned by Seth's sprayin', will I be gettin' better again?"

It was a serious question and deserved an equally serious answer. "It'll depend on what he used and how much. Your lungs probably retained some of the insecticide, and your body is trying to defend against it. That's why your lungs filled and you had difficulty breathing. The decongestant we gave you broke up the phlegm and your airways cleared. That's why you're feeling better."

"But?"

"Depending on how much you breathed in and how long that particular chemical takes to break down in your body, it could cause permanent damage, or at least ongoing problems. If we can keep oxygen going to your lungs, it'll help. But there are still a lot of 'ifs'."

"Thanks, Doc," Pete said, then dropped the subject and began to deal another hand.

This time, House's cards weren't as good. He was saved from decided how many cards to take by the ring of the phone.

"I talked to Carol," Cameron began. "Seth's sick, too."

"How come she didn't bring him to the clinic?" House asked.

"He didn't want her to drive in the storm, and when she went to ask their neighbor to take them, she found out he's sick, too. House, I'm beginning to think there are a lot more people affected out there."

"That was always a strong possibility," House replied.

"Seth insists he used his usual spray of Trumpet. The active ingredient is Naled," she said. "He cleaned out any of the crop dusting chemicals before he loaded the plane, and he wore protective clothing and gloves."

"But he still got sick," House mused.

"Yes. I told Carol to give him any decongestant she has in the house and to bring him in once the storm is over."

House had been trying to think of what he knew about Naled. "It's an organophosphate insecticide and a cholinesterase inhibitor," he dredged up from his encyclopedic brain. "It would explain the bronchoconstriction, as well as the hypotension."

"We should confirm, though, before we do anything else," Cameron said.

"We can measure the blood cholinesterase activity of the patients," House suggested. "All we need is a neutral buffer solution and a blood sample diluted with distilled water, and 7.5% acetylcholine iodide, as a substrate. Then we just have to incubate the reaction mixture and check the pH."

"Luckily someone was foresighted enough to get test strips!" she quipped. "But I don't have any acetylcholine iodide, at least not here."

"Fear not, my apprentice. For I believe I do."

"But then what do we do as an antidote?" she asked.

"Atropine, I think. Hmmm, not sure I have any," he said, sounding disappointed.

"Ah, but Master, I do!"

He chuckled. "I love it when you call me 'Master'."

"The only problem is that it's back at the clinic," Cameron said.

"Guess that means I'll have to slog my way back there and get it," House said.

"You won't know where to find it," Cameron objected. "I'll go."

"Maybe we can both go. Now that we know what we're probably dealing with, there might be other chemicals we should bring back."

Cameron thought a minute, then agreed. "All right. Out we go, into the deluge."

They met outside, each protected as much as possible from the wind and rain. They had to sidestep the litter that the wind had carried and then dropped as they walked quickly past the motel office and diner, and then crossed the alleyway, which was now a fast-running stream. Fighting the wind all the way, they finally reached the door to the clinic.

The notice Cameron had placed on the door was still there, although soaked and partly ripped. It directed anyone who showed up to go to the motel. She opened the door and they burst through into the sanctuary of the outer room.