over his shoulder. A pregnant woman seated in a wheelchair covered her abdomen with both hands. She tried, but the pain in her eyes was impossible for her to conceal. Begrudgingly, he moved aside. Seeing no other alternative, he returned to the long row of attached plastic chairs, sat down and placed his forearms flush on the armrests. He sighed in a way that betrayed his irritation. In addition to the dozens of people waiting to be seen, there were at least ten stretchers pushed against the wall holding patients who by all appearances had been abandoned. Directly across from him, a young mother with a fretful face pushed a blood-soaked hand towel against her screaming toddler’s forehead. Next to her, a man with pasty skin wearing a tattered white T-shirt hacked uncontrollably.
A civil, spit-and-polish man by nature, Kaine was not one to become easily unglued. Looking around at the despair and hopelessness that surrounded him evoked little, if any, sympathy. He had always believed that when mankind crawled out of the caves, they were equal. What happened after that depended solely on the individual’s skill and determination. Society was neither responsible nor made any guarantees. Compassion for the great unwashed, as he liked to call the less fortunate, was not an emotion he possessed.
Seeking any form of distraction, he turned and looked up at the fuzzy picture displayed on an undersized, wall-mounted television. After a minute or so he gazed back in the direction of the registration desk. He saw a young Asian man wearing green scrubs whispering to the nurse. When the man strolled back into the triage area, the nurse stood up and walked over.
“If you’ll follow me to the consultation room, the doctor will be right out to see you.”
Kaine stood up in silence. He followed directly behind the nurse, who escorted him to the small consultation room. The converted office was bare-walled and adorned only with a potted plant, a small upholstered couch and a wooden end table.
“Just have a seat,” she suggested. “It shouldn’t be too long.”
The nurse then stepped outside. He watched her walk back to the registration area where she motioned to a woman in a thigh-length white coat with a stethoscope draped around her neck. When the woman approached the information desk, the nurse pointed in his direction. He was too far away to read her identification badge but he assumed it was Dr. Connolly.
She started toward him. He studied her carefully through the open door as she crossed the waiting area. It wasn’t until she stood in the doorway that he could see the unmistakable look of doom in her eyes.
CHAPTER 4
“Mr. Kaine, my name is Dr. Connolly.” Morgan noticed the skin covering his forehead roll into fine parallel troughs.
“How are my sons doing?”
Morgan took a few steps closer before continuing, “Jason and Andy arrived about forty-five minutes apart. They were both suffering from advanced meningitis. Their vital signs were critically unstable.” Kaine said nothing. He folded his arms and took a broad-based stance squarely in front of Morgan. She could feel his slate gray eyes transfixed on her like a powerful beacon. “The infection was far advanced and overwhelming. We began full cardiopulmonary resuscitation immediately. Unfortunately we were unable to—”
“Cardiopulmonary resuscitation? Excuse me, Doctor. Are you trying to tell me both my sons died?”
With no intention of doing so, Morgan averted her eyes for an instant. “I’m . . . I’m afraid so. I’m very sorry, Mr. Kaine. We did everything possible, but we were too late. Perhaps if they had gotten here sooner, we—”
“I’m confused, Dr. Connolly. When Andrew and Jason arrived in the emergency room, were they or were they not alive?” Morgan was instantly taken back by the lack of shock or disbelief in his voice.
“They were alive, but as I said they were in profound and irreversible septic shock.”
“I understand, but I thought meningitis is curable with antibiotics.”
“In most cases it is. But sometimes the disease has progressed too far and there’s simply nothing we—”
“Did my sons receive antibiotics?”
“Of course,” she answered.
“Were you aware that both Andrew and Jason received the meningitis vaccine?”
“I wasn’t, but the present vaccine doesn’t cover every possible strain of bacteria that can cause meningitis,” she explained.
“And you’re quite certain you gave every medication possible to reverse the shock?”
Morgan was accustomed to denial in family members who had lost a loved one, but Mason Kaine’s behavior took on an odd and inappropriate note of resentment and antagonism she had never seen