Contagion by Robin Cook

“Actually, I think I should go home,” Terese said.

“You’re staying right here,” Colleen ordered. She turned to Chet. “She’s wound up like a piano wire. That’s why I insisted she come out; try to get her to relax. She’s consumed by her work.”

“Sounds like Jack here,” Chet said. “He has some definite antisocial tendencies.”

Chet and Colleen were talking as if Jack and Terese couldn’t hear, yet they were standing right next to them, staring off in different directions.

Both were irritated but both felt foolish at the same time.

Chet and Colleen got a round of drinks and handed them out as they continued to talk about their respective friends.

“Jack’s social life revolves around living in a crack neighborhood and playing basketball with killers,” Chet said.

“At least he has a social life,” Colleen said. “Terese lives in a co-op with a bunch of octogenarians. Going to the garbage chute is the high point of a Sunday afternoon at home.”

Chet and Colleen laughed heartily, took long pulls on their respective beers, and then launched into a conversation about a play both of them had seen on Broadway.

Jack and Terese ventured a few fleeting looks at each other as they nursed their own drinks.

“Chet mentioned you were a doctor; are you a specialist?” Terese asked finally. Her tone had mellowed significantly.

Jack explained about forensic pathology. Overhearing this part of the conversation, Chet joined in.

“We’re in the presence of one of the future’s best and brightest. Jack here made the diagnosis of the day. Against everyone else’s impression, he diagnosed a case of plague.”

“Here in New York?” Colleen asked with alarm.

“At the Manhattan General,” Chet said.

“My God!” Terese exclaimed. “I was a patient there once. Plague is awfully rare, isn’t it?”

“Most definitely,” Jack said. “A few cases are reported each year in the U.S., but they usually occur in the wilds of the west and during the summer months.”

“Is it terribly contagious?” Colleen asked.

“It can be,” Jack said. “Especially in the pneumonic form which this patient had.”

“Are you worried about having gotten it?” Terese asked. Unconsciously she and Colleen had moved a step backward.

“No,” Jack said. “And even if we had, we wouldn’t be communicative until after we got pneumonia. So you don’t have to stand across the room from us.”

Feeling embarrassed, both women stepped closer. “Is there any chance this could turn into an epidemic here in the city?” Terese asked.

“If plague bacteria has infected the urban rodent population, particularly the rats, and if there are adequate rat fleas, it could develop into a problem in the ghetto areas of the city,” Jack said. “But chances are it would be self-limited. The last real outbreak of plague in the U.S. occurred in 1919 and there were only twelve cases. And that was before the antibiotic era. I don’t anticipate there is going to be a current epidemic, especially since the Manhattan General is taking the episode extremely seriously.”

“I trust you contacted the media about this case of plague,” Terese said.

“Not me,” Jack said. “That’s not my job.”

“Shouldn’t the public be alerted?” Terese asked.

“I don’t think so,” Jack said. “By sensationalizing it, the media could make things worse. The mere mention of the word ‘plague’ can evoke panic, and panic would be counterproductive.”

“Maybe,” Terese said. “But I bet people would feel differently if there was a chance they could avoid coming down with plague if they were forewarned.”

“Well, the question is academic,” Jack said. “There’s no way that the media could avoid hearing about this. It’ll be all over the news. Trust me.”

“Let’s change the subject,” Chet said. “What about you guys? What do you do?”

“We’re art directors in a relatively large ad agency,” Colleen said. “At least I’m an art director. Terese was an art director. Now she’s part of the front office. She’s creative director.”

“Impressive,” Chet said.

“And in a strange way we’re currently tangentially involved with medicine,” she added.

“What do you mean you are involved with medicine?” Jack asked.

“One of our big accounts is National Health,” Terese said. “I imagine you’ve heard of them.”

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182 183 184 185

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *