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| A Christmas tale |
By:
Joe Rozencwajg |
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A Christmas Tale.
The three ambulances whizzed past Simon, sirens blaring. “That is all I need to start my shift” he thought. The only Jewish doctor in the small town, it made sense for Simon Greenfield to be on call on Christmas eve. Still, he didn't like to start his work with a room packed with patients, probably drunk and violent. And he was not very happy to have to walk all the way to the hospital; the engine of his motorbike was frozen solid.
“Dr. Greenfield, move your kosher ass in, we have a situation here!“ Good grief, what a nice greeting! That was Anna Leblanc, nurse in charge, spinster always angry at everybody, formerly of the Black Panthers, antisemite, a real Florence Nightingale. “Oy vey, this is going to be a cool Christmas”.
As he crossed the double security doors, Simon froze in his steps. Blood everywhere! and the stench! a mix of rotten carrion, putrid faeces and strong disinfectant. The sound hit him: a deafening silence punctuated by wet rales, bubbling noises and the running of the nurses. No screams, no yelling, no strong voices: this was definitely not the garden variety shoot-out or the usual food poisoning.
“Anna, what is going on?”
“Not sure. They all came from the military lab, that's all we've got“.
“The military lab? what are you talking about?”
“Where have you been living, Simon? you know, the lab, at the secret base everybody knows about...“. Simon suddenly remembered the gossip going around town; he never really believed it, but then, where were those patients coming from, how did they get in that mess?
Gowned and gloved, he checked the closest patient. A woman in her mid twenties, still wearing a white lab coat. Her face was twisted in a painful rictus, dark blood oozing from her eyes, her ears, her nose; a bubbly dark red foam was hanging from her mouth, barely moving with each shallow breath. Stinking dark vomit was soaking her blouse and it was obvious she had putrid bloody diarrhoea. Simon searched for a pulse: it was slow and shallow; she did not react to pain; she was dying. He quickly moved from bed to bed, checking the others. The same picture everywhere. “Anna, they are all dying!” he shouted. “Yeah, tell me something I do not know, you prick! I am calling the cops!“ ”Why? what is police business here?“. ”Where did you get your diploma Doctor? did it come with a plastic toy in a cereal box? Don't you see we have a deadly epidemic here? those goons at the lab probably played with dangerous bugs and it turned sour. We have to quarantine the city...“
Of course! thought Simon. Hemorrhagic fever, the Ebola virus, mutated by the military to make it faster and deadlier. Shit!
He quickly collected a few samples of blood and other body fluids. The patients were beyond suffering, they were dying one after the other. Everybody realised there was nothing to do.
The sound of heavy trucks braking and the noise of a helicopter landing broke the silence. Anna Leblanc turned grey. Who was coming? She could not have called the police, the phones were dead. Maybe someone with a cellphone... The doors bursted open. A dozen men walked in, wearing HazMat suits, heavily armed with machine guns. A loudspeaker came to life: “Stay where you are, nobody moves, this is the Army, we have everything under control“. Paralysed with fear, Simon and the nurses were barely breathing. Another suited man came in, apparently an officer. Coming towards Simon, he asked: “Are you the Doctor in charge here?”. Mouth dry and heart racing, all Simon could answer was a squeaking “Yes”. “Do you know what is happening here?” questioned the officer. “I have a pretty good idea”. “Do you know there are other cases in the city, as we talk?“ ”How can that be possible?“ Simon was shaking; he did not know whether it was terror or the virus getting into his system, but it was definitely not a good feeling. “Well, if you know what is happening here” said the officer “you realise how aggressive this infection is. Fortunately, your city is in the middle of nowhere, so we will be able to contain it“. With the same even, cold voice, he added ”I am deeply sorry“.
That night, the desert was aglow for a few hours with beautiful orange flames licking the skies. The Boxing Day papers reported that a meteor completely destroyed the city. The whole area would be isolated so that help and the search for survivors could proceed quickly, but it was unlikely anybody was still alive.
Joe Rozencwajg
44 Karina Road, New Plymouth. |
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