Altered Genes: Genesis by Mark Kelly Read Free Book Online Page A

and placed them on the desk. ”And what’s this nonsense about an autopsy—an autopsy for what?”
    “The patient died suspiciously.” She cringed at her unfortunate choice of words.
    He frowned. “What was suspicious about it? I thought you said he died from a C. diff infection.“
    “Actually, it was toxic megacolon that killed him but the root cause was the infection,” she replied, digging herself a deeper hole.
    “How can you possibly know that, Dr. Ling? C. diff infections aren’t the only cause of toxic megacolon and even if it was the cause, were you the attending physician?”
    “No,” she said reluctantly, knowing the conversation was over.
    “Have the next of kin been contacted?
    “I don’t know.”
    “Then you don’t know if an autopsy was requested or if they approved one?”
    “No.”
    “Well, then I think, we’re finished with this discussion.” He pushed his bifocals up the bridge of his nose and leaned back in his chair.
    “What about the department of health? You could ask them to request one.” Now she was grasping at straws.
    His eyes widened as he looked at her. “And be laughed at? Come see me when you have more, Dr. Ling.”
    He pushed back his chair to stand and was half-way to his feet when he winced and stumbled forward.
    “Are you okay?” She was on her feet, moving towards him.
    He held out his hand to stop her and clenched his jaw. “I’m fine—something I ate. It’s not agreeing with me.”
    He stepped around his desk and he took her arm. “You have to leave now,” he said as he escorted her to the door. “I have another meeting scheduled.”
    “You should get yourself checked out,” she suggested, knowing he wouldn’t. Doctors were the worst patients.
    “I’m fine, Dr. Ling, thank you.”

March 23rd, 13h40 GMT : Queens, NYC
    Blanca cried out in pain and Lucia leaned over the bed. She tenderly caressed her daughter’s forehead.
    "Alejandro, please get some water,” she said to her son, “a little cool but not cold.”
    While he fetched the water, she brushed her daughter’s hair back from her face. It was damp with sweat and stuck to her forehead. Blanca’s eyes flickered at the touch of her mother’s hand. She cried out in pain and writhed in agony. “Mamá…Me duele el estómago.”
    All night she had complained about the pain in her stomach. Nothing she had tried to relieve the pain had worked. She didn’t know what else to do.
    The boy returned with the water and placed it on the nightstand. “What’s wrong with Blanca? Will she be okay?"
    “Your sister—“ Lucia’s voice broke and she fought to regain her composure. "Your sister is strong. She will be fine.”
    She dipped the facecloth in the bowl and squeezed the excess water out before draping the damp cloth across the child’s forehead. As she did, the little girl spasmed, exposing the diarrhea that stained her nightgown.
    Lucia gently unfolded her daughter’s body to undress her. She carefully removed the soiled clothing and placed it on top of her own dirty blouse in the laundry basket.
    Without being asked, Alejandro carried the basket to the bathroom. She would wash it later in the tub.
    "Gracias…you're a good boy,” she said when he returned.
    “What now?” he asked.
    She was scared and didn’t know, but the doctors at the hospital would. It had been a little over twelve hours since they had left it. They would return—but not by bus. Time was more precious than money.
    "Call a taxi.”

    M aybe Robinson was right , Mei thought as she stepped off the elevator and turned down the hallway to the nurses’s station. They’d only had a single case and strange or not, there were other diseases that could explain the British patient’s rapid death.
    The ER was busy with doctors, nurses and orderlies flitting about in organized chaos. It was still early in the day, the real madness wouldn’t start until later, usually around 6:00 p.m.
    She stopped and glanced at the