VANGUARD(29)

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Sophie arrived at the infirmary in ten minutes, the Jeep bounding across the rutted paths with her two Soviet soldiers hanging on for dear life. She slammed on the brakes and skidded to a stop. One of the doctors, Raj Patel, met her at the door, gloves and mask in hand. The soldiers stayed with the Jeep.

“Procedure, Sophie,” Raj said, snapping the gloves on her. They entered the infirmary together where she found organized bedlam.

“What’s the situation?”

“We have a sudden escalation of the pneumonia. When we arrived this morning, nearly twenty cases awaited us, most in critical condition. It’s now...” He checked his watch. “...two hours later, and we’ve received a further forty-four cases. All typical profile: elderly, infants, the very weak or sick. Which, in this camp, is just about everyone.”

“Fuck me,” she breathed, then remembered Raj worked for a faith-based charity. “Sorry.”

“I had a similar reaction. No apologies needed.” He smiled behind his mask. “We’ve moved all non-essential equipment and personnel to the new medical building, which is being pressed into service a little earlier than scheduled. In fact, they haven’t finished putting the roof on yet. As of this moment, this infirmary is in quarantine. Nobody in or out without gloves and masks, no visitors, highest level of infection control enforcement.”

“Any idea what’s driven the numbers up so rapidly?”

“It could be the natural progression of the disease, or maybe one of the latest groups of refugees brought in a more virulent strain. We’ll get the cultures back tomorrow and know which antibiotic will work against this. In the meantime, we’re getting creative.”

“What do you need from the exec committee?”

“More space, for one. That means more workers to finish the new building.” Sophie whipped out her iPhone and started taking notes. “Infection control supplies: gloves, surgical masks, face shields, gowns, goggles. Another autoclave wouldn’t hurt.”

“Meds?”

“We’ll know tomorrow which antibiotic we need. We’re fully stocked with the usual suspects – penicillin, amoxicillin, clarithromycin, tetracycline. Unfortunately, they’re not working. We’ve had better results with some cephalosporin antibiotics, but we don’t have as many of those because they’re expensive. Cefepime has been the most effective so far. If you can lay hands on that, we’ll take it.”

“Got it. Anything else, Raj?”

“Get some folks going tent-to-tent looking for other cases. We need these people isolated immediately,” he said. “Staff should be masked and gloved. We can’t take chances. If we go down, the whole camp follows.”

“We’ll need more vehicles on standby as well for patient transportation. I’ll see what I can scrounge up.” Sophie typed madly, an uncomfortable task in latex gloves. “What else?”

“Anjali asked if you would kindly brief Rasputin in the front office about the situation. Her words, not mine.”

“My pleasure,” she said with a grin. “I’ll pull some folks off other details and have them over to the new medical building within the hour. Plus we’ll find some warm bodies to do the tent-to-tent. Jim Watson stayed back behind the border today. I’ll call him up. He loves stuff like this.” They walked out of the infirmary together, Sophie remembering just in time to thank the man standing beside her. “Terrific job, Raj. You guys are absolutely the best. I know you’ll get this.”

“Thanks, Sophie. Anjali or I will check in on the hour unless something crazy happens.”

“Too late for that!” she shouted over her shoulder as she climbed into the Jeep.





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By lunch, containment efforts were in full swing. They scaled back all non-essential activities to a minimum, and the extra bodies were assigned to either the completion of the second medical building or the tent-to-tent search party. Jim Watson, an old campaigner who had been working in the field longer than Sophie had been on the earth, jumped at the chance to lead the search. He had a knack for putting people of all cultures at ease.

“Here’s a list of the symptoms we’re watching for.” Sophie handed him a handwritten paper. “High fever, heavy chest congestion, cough, chills, shortness of breath, mucus with blood...lots of good stuff.” Jim tucked the paper into his breast pocket. “Make sure you mask up and wear gloves. I don’t want to see your old ass in the infirmary.”