Plague by Graham Masterton Read Free Book Online Page A

was
obviously some kind of panic in progress. The corridors were lined with
trolleys, all waiting to collect patients from the ambulance bay; and there
were nurses and doctors everywhere, bustling around with medical report sheets,
diagnostic kits and bundles of sheets and robes and plastic gloves.
    He reached Dr.
Selmer’s office and rapped on the door. A nurse answered it, wearing a cap and
mask, her forehead glistening with perspiration.
    ‘Yes? What is
it?’
    ‘I’m Dr.
Leonard Petrie. I came to see Dr. Selmer. I thought I could help.’
    ‘Just hold on
there. Don’t come inside. He won’t be a moment.’
    Dr. Petrie was
about to say something else, but the door was shut firmly in his face.
    He shrugged,
and leaned up against the corridor wall to wait for Dr. Selmer. As he stood
there, a medical trolley was rushed past, with a young woman lying on it. Her
face was deathly white, and she was shivering and trembling. A young doctor
came hurrying in the other direction, calling out for a nurse to bring him some
blankets and antibiotics.
    It was ten
minutes before Anton Selmer appeared. He came out into the corridor, freckled
and ginger and worn out. He managed a weak smile as he pulled off his cap and
mask, and let out a long, exhausted sigh.
    ‘Hi, Leonard. Glad you could make it.’
    Dr. Petrie
inclined his head towards the door of the emergency ward. ‘How long have you
been in there?’
    ‘All day.’ said
Anton Selmer, rubbing his eyes. ‘It looks like it’ll be all night, too.’
    ‘Is it the
plague?’
    Dr. Selmer
scratched his head tiredly. ‘We’ve had twenty-eight more cases since eight
o’clock. They’re picking them up all over the place. We’ve had a bar-tender, a
supermarket manager, two cops and four ambulance crew. We’ve even had a hooker.
They come from all over town. Most from the south – Coral-
Gables and South Miami. But two or three from Hialeah,
and some from the Beach.’
    Dr. Petrie
stepped back to let a trolley rattle past. ‘What about treatment? Are they
responding?’
    Dr. Selmer
didn’t look up. ‘Five of them are dead already. Two were dead on arrival.
    We’ve tried
streptomycin, tetracyclines and chloramphenicol. We even tried aureomycin , in case the bacilli were resistant to
streptomycin. I’ve brought in plague antigens from Tampa, and I’m having serums
made up from avirulent strains flown in right now from Los Angeles.’
    ‘And?’
    Dr. Selmer’s
voice was unsteady with emotion. ‘It’s not going to work, Leonard, It’s not
going to work at all.’
    Dr. Petrie
frowned. ‘What do you mean – not going to work?’
    ‘Just that, Leonard. The plague is not responding to the
normal methods of treatment. Not sulfonamide, not anything. I guess it’s
because it’s some kind of mutation. It’s totally resistant to antibiotics, and
it’s even resistant to heat.’
    ‘What about the
antigens?’
    Dr. Selmer took
out a handkerchief and wiped his forehead. Then he blew his nose loudly. ‘They
slow it up, that’s all. Usually, they cut the mortality rate. You can save two
out of three. But with this plague, they hardly help at all. Whatever we do,
Leonard, they’re dying just the same.’
    Dr. Petrie
leaned back against the wall. He tried not to think of Prickles and Adelaide.
    The corridor
was bright and clinical and smelled of disinfectant. Outside, through the
constantly swinging doors, he could see the red flash of ambulance lights, and
the clatter and shuffle of trolleys. He heard someone shouting and moaning, and
someone else trying to argue in a high, persistent voice.
    ‘Have you told
the health people?’ he asked quietly.
    Dr. Selmer
nodded. ‘I told them around half-past nine. They didn’t really believe me at
first. Wanted proof. So I brought Jackson and Firenza
down here, and let them see for themselves.’
    ‘What are they
going to do?’
    ‘Wait and see.
Firenza said he thought it was probably an isolated outbreak.’
    ‘Wait and see?
Are