Ward Z Read online

"I'm full."

  "Then stay at the table. You know what we talked about, yeah? You have to stay at the table until you've been excused. I'll be down in a minute, okay?"

  "Okay."

  Taking a deep breath, Cally waits for the pain to go away. It's mid-morning, just after 10am, and although the pain usually hits around this time, it doesn't usually last more than a couple of minutes. Something feels different this time: as she sits at the top of the stairs, Cally feels the pain in her leg burning with a new intensity. Whatever this thing is, it's spreading, and it's getting stronger with every passing day.

  "Please," she whispers, "just go away. I can deal with you this afternoon, but not right now. Please."

  Although she's not religious, Cally often finds herself turning to God when the pain gets this bad. She knows that makes her a hypocrite, but she doesn't care: all she wants is to get rid of the pain, to make it go away for a few more hours so she can pretend to be normal. She hates the idea that her daughter might see that there's a problem.

  "Please," she whispers again, closing her eyes and trying not to cry. "Please."

  Tired and with sweat on her forehead, she waits, and slowly the pain seems to dissipate, as if something has burst in her leg. This is how it always ends, and she knows it'll be back sooner rather than later, but right now all that matters is that it goes away and gives her time to get her daughter ready for the school run. Taking a deep breath, Cally feels the last of the pain fade away, and slowly she gets back up and starts making her way downstairs. Her leg is still sore and a little stiff, but at least she can think properly and move without attracting too much suspicion.

  "Please," she whispers, making her way down the stairs, "just promise me it won't hurt for a few hours."

  "Are you okay, Mummy?" Emma asks as soon as Cally enters the kitchen.

  "I'm fine. I just had to do a few things upstairs."

  "What time is Daddy picking me up to take me to school?"

  Cally checks her watch. "Shit," she mutters, before turning to her daughter. "In ten minutes," she says with a smile. "Maybe you should go and get your backpack from your room."

  "May I be excused from the table?"

  Cally smiles. "Of course, honey. Go get your backpack."

  As Emma gets off the chair and runs to the hallway, Cally makes her way quickly to her coat and pulls out her mobile phone. Bringing up the number for the doctor's surgery, she waits impatiently until finally a receptionist answers.

  "It's Cally Briggs," she says quickly, not giving the receptionist time to get through her customary spiel, "I need an appointment with Dr. Clarke. It's urgent."

  "Let me see what we have available," the receptionist replies calmly.

  "I need to see him today," Cally continues, realizing with horror that the pain in her leg is already starting to come back. It never returns so quickly; she usually gets at least a few blessed hours between the bouts of agony, but something's different today. She's been ignoring the pain for months now, but finally she knows that she's got no choice. She has to find out what's wrong, and all she can do is pray that she hasn't left it too late.

  "It's going to be okay," she whispers to herself. "It's going to be okay. It's all going to be okay."

  Today

  Cally Briggs

  "It's going to be okay," I say, steering Emma into my room before picking her up and placing her on the edge of my bed. "Sweetheart?" I continue, seeing the look of fear in her eyes, "you have to listen to me. It's all going to be okay."

  "Who were those men?" she asks.

  "They're just doing an exercise," I reply, my mind racing as I try to come up with an explanation that might delay the panic. "They're just a group of soldiers doing some kind of training... thing. It's kinda fun, isn't it? They looked real tough, didn't they? Don't you think they looked like soldiers from a movie? Maybe they're here to hunt down aliens, huh? Doesn't that sound like fun?"

  Emma stares at me, and even though she's only nine years old, it's clear that I haven't managed to fool her yet. She's frowning at me, and she's scared. Damn it, I'm her mother; I should be able to reassure her and take that look from her eyes. I guess she's learned the hard way, in the past, that sometimes things aren't okay, even when I tell her not to worry. I can't deny that the past couple of years have been tough on her, and I've run out of ways to protect her from the truth.

  "Hang on," I say, hurrying over to the window. Sure enough, hundreds of army trucks and jeeps are filling the parking lot, while a helicopter is coming in to land nearby. Whatever's going on here, it's clearly something big. There must be hundreds of soldiers at the hospital by now, with more arriving every minute, and they seem to have already divided into a series of different units. At the same time, it looks like patients and staff from other wards are being escorted out of the building and taken to waiting buses. One thing's for certain: this is no drill.

  "Is it terrorists?" Emma asks.

  I turn to her.

  "I saw the news once," she continues. "They said that when terrorists attack, the army goes and stops them. Isn't that what the army's for? Stopping terrorists? That's what they do. They keep us safe by stopping terrorists."

  "Yeah, honey," I reply, "but... I don't think there are terrorists at the hospital." As the words leave my mouth, however, I realize that maybe she's right after all. I mean, why else would squadrons of soldiers suddenly come storming into the building? The truth is, none of this makes any sense at all. I heard words like 'quarantine' and 'contamination' being bandied about in the corridor, but I don't see why a goddamn cancer ward would end up being locked down. The strangest thing, though, is that it really does seem as if it's this ward in particular that's being targeted, rather than the hospital in general.

  "Terrorists blow things up," she continues, with a look of shock in her eyes. "That's what they do, isn't it? Is someone going to blow us up? I've seen the news. They use bombs to blow stuff up and kill people. Is that what they're going to do to us?"

  "No, sweetheart."

  "How do you know?"

  "I just know."

  "But how do -"

  "I just know!" I say firmly, before realizing that I'm in danger of snapping at her. "I just know," I say again, trying not to sound too harsh. "It's okay, sweetheart. I know these things, that's all. You have to trust Mummy." As the words leave my lips, however, I can't help but think back to all the times I've reassured her in the past, only for bad things to happen.

  "Mummy," Emma says after a moment, "are you scared?"

  "Me?" I reply, taking one more glance out the window at the approaching helicopters, before hurrying over to the bed and sitting next to my daughter. "Why would I be scared, sweetheart?" I ask, nervously looking over at the door as a couple of panicked nurses run past. There's some shouting out in the corridor, and what sounds like someone banging on a door. "Maybe we should play a game," I say, putting an arm around Emma's shoulder. "What about I Spy?"

  She shakes her head.

  "You don't want to play a game?"

  "I want to go home," she says quietly.

  "You can go home soon," I reply, missing the days when going 'home' meant coming back to me. "Let's play I Spy."

  "I want to go home now!" she says, close to tears as she jumps down off the bed and runs toward the door.

  "Emma!" I shout, trying to run after her but encumbered by my drip bag and trolley, which I have to pull along everywhere I go. By the time I get to the door, Emma's already out in the corridor, but she's stopped in her tracks at the sight of the crowd of people in the distance, all shouting at one another by the main door to the ward. It looks like absolute chaos, as if no-one's taking charge. "Come on," I say, putting a hand on Emma's shoulder, "let's go into my room."

  "Where's Daddy?" she asks.

  "Daddy's coming to pick you up later," I reply.

  "I want to go with Daddy now."

  "Daddy's working today," I continue, "but he's going to come and get you in a few ho
urs. Until then, you can stay here with me, okay? We'll play games and we'll hang out, just how we planned, yeah? We'll go to get that roast dinner another day. We'll do it soon, I promise."

  "I don't care about that," she whines. "I just want to go home."

  "You'll enjoy it when we get there," I tell her. "I promise."

  She stares at me, and it's clear that my words aren't having much of an effect.

  "Sweetheart," I continue, trying to come up with a new approach, "this is all just a game. Those soldiers are just playing. They're having fun."

  "They're not playing," she says dubiously.

  "They just want to check something," I continue, keenly aware that I'm already losing the battle.

  "What are they angry about?" she asks, staring at the crowd.

  "You need to go back into your rooms," says Nurse Aubry, coming up behind us. Normally a happy, cheerful woman, she has a look of genuine fear in her eyes as she puts a hand on my shoulder. "Please, Cally. We need all patients to remain in their rooms for now. We'll try to keep you all updated so that you know as soon as the situation has been resolved."

  "What's happening?" I ask, before glancing down at Emma and seeing that she seems to be transfixed by the sight of the crowd.

  "It's nothing to worry about," Nurse Aubry replies, "but for your own safety, all patients must go into their rooms and wait there until we give the all-clear to come out again. There's absolutely nothing you can do to help, and I'm sure you'd rather take this little angel into your room and distract her, wouldn't you?" She waits for me to say something. "Please, Cally," she adds. "They're not here to cause trouble. They don't want to talk to any of the patients, and we want to avoid any sense of panic."

  "There are soldiers crawling all over this hospital," I reply, keeping my voice down for Emma's sake as I hear more footsteps on the roof. "There are helicopters landing in the car park. There are armed soldiers at the door to the ward, preventing people from getting in or out. Don't you think that maybe there's good reason to panic?"

  "There's a..." She pauses, clearly trying to work out how to fob me off with some kind of excuse. "There's a situation," she says eventually. "It's a temporary thing. We weren't given any warning. The soldiers just appeared and sealed the doors, and now we're waiting to find out exactly what's happening. Dr. Gerrold is making some phone calls right now, and as soon as I have any information to give you, I'll make sure you're in the know. It's probably just a big mis-understanding, and I'm sure it'll all be sorted out within a couple of hours, but for now we just need to keep things calm and -"

  Before she can finish, someone at the far end of the corridor shouts something and starts banging on the door. On the other side of the glass, a group of soldiers stand resolute, not budging an inch. This is a goddamn hospital, yet right now it's starting to look more like some kind of warzone, and it's clear that the members of staff don't know what's going on.

  "What do they want?" I ask, turning back to Nurse Aubry.

  "They want us to wait," she replies, suddenly seeming a lot less sure of herself. "They're going to talk to Dr. Park and Dr. Gerrold, but they..." She pauses. "Please, Cally, just take your daughter into your room and shut the door. This is nothing to do with you, and it's best if you just let us resolve it. I'm sure it'll be fine."

  "What about Emma?" I reply. "Can't you tell them that there's a child in here, for God's sake? Can't they at least let her go? I mean, look at her, she's terrified."

  "My understanding is that no-one is allowed in or out," she continues, "and I'm afraid that's going to include Emma as well." She pauses. "Please, Cally. Just focus on keeping your daughter calm, and this should all be sorted out in a few hours. It's just a misunderstanding."

  I open my mouth to argue with her, but finally I realize that there's no point.

  "Come on, Emma," I say, taking Emma's hand and leading her back into my room. "We'll play I Spy. Everything'll be okay by the time we get back out." As soon as we're in the room, I push the heavy door shut, which at least drowns out the noise of the crowd at the other end of the corridor. Seconds later, however, there's the sound of a helicopter swooping low over the hospital, followed by a heavy thud as it lands on the roof. I look up at the ceiling for a moment, as the tiles shudder, and then I glance down at Emma and see that it's already too late: she's seen the fear in my eyes, and there's no way I can convince her that something bad isn't happening.

  "It's okay," I say, forcing myself to smile even though I know she won't be convinced. "I promise, honey. Everything's going to be okay."

  Dr. Andrew Page

  "I demand to speak to someone in authority!" I say firmly, staring at the soldiers who remain stony-faced on the other side of the glass door. "My name is Dr. Andrew Page, I'm a senior consultant at this hospital and I demand to speak to someone who can tell me what the hell's going on here and why you people are recklessly endangering my patients!"

  I wait for a response, but all I get is stony-faced silence. The soldiers merely stay in place, staring straight ahead while holding rifles across their chests. They look like they're kitted out for some kind of operation in the middle of a warzone, and it's hard to believe that there's anything in this hospital that could possibly merit such a dramatic military response. Still, taking a step back from the door, I realize that there's the sound of a helicopter somewhere up above, followed by a distant thumping sound as if the damn thing has landed on the roof.

  "What the hell's going on?" asks Nurse Aubry as she squeezes through the small crowd of staff and patients. "Andrew, what do they want? I just tried the exits in the stairwell and the supply room, and there are armed men keeping the doors shut! We're totally sealed in!"

  "I'm supposed to be off my shift by now," Nurse Jacobs adds plaintively, standing behind her.

  "I don't know what they want," I reply, staring into the unblinking eyes of a soldier who remains firmly in place just a few feet away, on the other side of the door. "They won't say a damn thing, other than that we're not allowed off the ward." Staring at the soldier, I can't help but feel frustrated and helpless. I've never been a big fan of men with guns. "Look at them," I continue after a moment. "They think they can just order us about because they've got rifles. And you know the worst part? They're absolutely fucking correct."

  "They can't do this, can they?" Nurse Aubry asks. "They can't keep us prisoner like this! We haven't done anything wrong!"

  "I'm sure they've got authorization or justification from someone," I reply bitterly. "Some bean-counting asshole has signed off on this crap."

  "This is a hospital," she points out, "and this is a cancer ward. What the hell do they think we could possibly have that might cause so much trouble?"

  "Dr. Gerrold's trying to get through to someone on the phone," I reply. "This whole thing is completely intolerable. I don't care what kind of bee they've got under their bonnets, they have no right to section of an entire ward, an entire hospital, just because some trigger-happy military commander thinks there might be a problem."

  "Do you really think it's this ward that's got something... wrong with it?" she asks.

  "It must be the whole hospital," I point out. "There's no way they'd send hundreds of soldiers and a bunch of helicopters just for one ward. There's no way one ward could possibly pose this much of a threat." As the words leave my mouth, however, I can't shake the feeling that I'm wrong. Every sign of military activity seems, so far, to be focused on Ward C. In fact, I'm pretty sure that I spotted other wards being evacuated when I looked out the window, almost as if they're clearing out the hospital so that they can focus entirely on us.

  "But they have to tell us what's wrong," Nurse Aubry continues. "We have a right to know why they're doing this."

  "Cabin fever already?" I ask, turning to her.

  "We haven't done anything!"

  I take a deep breath before realizing that I need to force the issue. Stepping forward, I try to position myself in the nearest soldier's line of s
ight. If I'm going to be herded like a goddamn sheep, I at least want to know why it's happening. Never, in my entire career, have I been treated so shoddily, and I'm damn well certain that I want to find out what the hell kind of justification these people have for keeping us penned in like this.

  "I know you can hear me," I say firmly, watching for the faintest flicker of recognition in his eyes. "Let's start this again and let's try to see if we can maybe get somewhere this time. My name is Dr. Andrew Page, and I'm a senior consultant at this hospital. I have a right to know why you're blockading the door to this ward." I wait for a reply, but the soldier doesn't even look at me. Sighing, I reach down to push the door open, but quickly find that it's bolted somehow from the outside. "I have patients here," I continue, trying very hard not to lose my temper. "Do you understand that? I have patients, people who are sick, people who might need to be transported to other parts of the hospital. You can't just interfere with the life of the ward. There are people here who could die if they're not given the treatment they need."

  "No-one is to leave the ward," the soldier says suddenly, still not looking directly at me. "You're to await further information, which will be provided to you in due course."

  "What about supplies?" I continue. "In a few hours' time, we're going to have to send someone down for medical supplies from another ward. Is that going to be permitted?" I'm bluffing, of course; we have enough supplies to last for a few days, but I figure I need to force the issue. "Are you just going to let people die?"

  "Information will be provided in due course," he repeats.

  "Information from who?" I ask. After waiting for a moment, I realize that he's once again fallen completely silent. I guess he figures I don't need to know any more. "What is this," I mutter, "a police state? Are we all just a bunch of rats in a cage?"

  "I've got no signal on my phone," Nurse Aubry says. "What the hell's going on?"

  "They've got some kind of jammer," says one of the other nurses. "No-one's phones are working. Even the landlines are out, and we've got no internet."