A number of the people pressing in on her were patients, dressed in pajamas and robes. They were all simultaneously asking questions and demanding answers.
“Please!” shouted someone to Marissa’s right. “Please! Let me through.” A heavyset man with bushy eyebrows pushed his way to Marissa’s side. “Dr. Blumenthal?”
“Yes,” said Marissa with relief.
The heavyset man took her by the arm, ignoring the fact that she was carrying both a suitcase and briefcase. Pushing his way back through the crowd, he led her across the lobby to a door that he locked behind them. They were in a long, narrow hallway.
“I’m terribly sorry about all this turmoil,” said the man. “I’m Lloyd Davis, director of the hospital, and we seem to have a bit of a panic on our hands.”
Marissa followed Davis to his office. They entered through a side door, and Marissa noticed the main door was barricaded from the inside with a ladder-back chair, making her believe that the “bit of panic” had been an understatement.
“The staff is waiting to talk with you,” said Mr. Davis, taking Marissa’s belongings and depositing them next to his desk. He breathed heavily, as if the effort of bending over had exhausted him.
“What about the patients with suspected Ebola?” asked Marissa.
“For the moment they’ll have to wait,” said the director, motioning Marissa to return to the hallway.
“But our first priority has to be the proper isolation of the patients.”
“They are well isolated,” Mr. Davis assured her. “Dr. Weaver has taken care of that.” He pressed his hand against the small of Marissa’s back, propelling her toward the door. “Of course we’ll follow any additional suggestions you have, but right now I would like you to talk with the staff before I’m faced with mutiny.”
“I hope it’s not that bad,” said Marissa. It was one thing if the inpatients were upset, quite another if the professional staff was hysterical as well.
Mr. Davis closed his office door and led the way along another corridor. “A lot of people are terrified at being forced to stay in the hospital.”
“How many more presumed cases have been diagnosed since you called the CDC?”
“Sixteen. No more staff; all the new cases are Medica Plan subscribers.
That suggested that the virus was already into its second generation, having been spread by the initially infected physicians. At least that was what had happened in the two previous outbreaks. Marissa herself quaked at the idea of being locked up in the same building with such a contagion, making her question how much consolation she would be able to extend to the staff. With so many people infected, she wondered if they would be able to contain the problem as they had in L.A. and St. Louis. The horror of the thought of Ebola passing into the general community was almost beyond comprehension.
“Do you know if any of the initial cases had been mugged recently?” asked Marissa, as much to distract herself as in hope of a positive answer. Davis just glanced at her and raised his eyebrows as if she were crazy. That seemed as much of a response he felt the question merited. So much for that observation, thought Marissa, remembering Ralph’s response.
They stopped in front of a locked door. Davis took out his keys, unlocked the door and led Marissa onto the hospital auditorium’s stage. It was not a big room: There was seating for approximately one hundred and fifty people. Marissa noticed all the seats were occupied, with still more people standing in the back. There was the buzz of a dozen simultaneous conversations. They trailed off into silence as Marissa nervously walked toward the podium, all eyes upon her. A tall, exceptionally thin man stood up from a chair behind the podium and shook her hand. Mr. Davis introduced him as Dr. Guy Weaver, the man she’d spoken to on the phone.
“Dr. Blumenthal,” said Dr. Weaver, his deep voice a sharp contrast to his scrawny frame, “you have no idea how happy I am to see you.”
Marissa felt that uncomfortable sense of being an imposter. And it got worse. After tapping the microphone to make certain it was “live,” Dr. Weaver proceeded to introduce Marissa.