Paradigm: After the End - Part II

When I woke, Dr. Shavers was back at my side, tending to what I assumed was an IV next to me. Startled, I sat up; my first instinct was to tear out the needles that were protruding from my arm.

“Mr. Burke, relax.” Dr. Shavers said soothingly. “You were in a state of severe dehydration.” He gripped my arm, intensely but not with too much power. “Luckily, my colleague here, Dr. Toledo caught it just in time.” Shavers motioned to what I expected would be another perhaps mentally astute, but physically mundane physician.  However, Dr. Toledo was by no means mundane. Raven colored hair and dark green eyes.

“Wow.”

“Excuse me?” Dr. Toledo asked. She was already indignant. Though in retrospect, she had likely entered life that way.

“Thank you.” I muttered, hoping my embarrassment wasn’t given away by the color of my cheeks.

“You’re welcome Patient Burke.” She stepped from the room in heels, the footfalls somehow echoing authoritatively against the tile. This left me and Dr. Shavers alone.

 “Up for twenty questions, Doc?”

Shavers paused in his regimen of readout checking and intermittent jotting of notes. “Certainly, I’m sure you’re hungry for details.

I was, and knew exactly where to start. “Tell me more about this plague?”

Dr. Shavers stopped in his tracks. He seemed to be thinking before he launched into a quiet speech. “It was made in a lab. A terrorist organization – you know the one that Bill O’ Reilly seemed to always blame for everything, when he wasn’t blaming the president – took credit for cursing the U.S. with it. Before it was put under control it spread rapidly, similar to a common cold. Only the effects weren’t so common.”

“Bad?” I asked, reinforcing my own ignorance.

“Weakness, dizziness followed by acute paranoia. Some patients even exhibited a severe distrust of authority figures. Not to mention an aversion to utilizing prescribed treatments.”

Given the way I fell asleep and what happened just before, I chose my words carefully. “I’d imagine that there were other symptoms?” In more than passing, I wondered if I was infected.

Somber and grounded Shavers responded, “Unfortunately that’s true. While all of those things are negative, they are not inherently deadly. The virus eventually developed into a type of necrotizing fasciitis.” Shavers recognized the lost look on my face immediately, “Simply put; it decomposed the flesh and eventually other tissues from the outside in.”

Sitting up in bed, I became concerned, “I’m not going to belie the point Doc, that’s sounds fucking awful. But now that you’ve cured it, there’s no chance of it comin’ back, right?”

Dr. Shavers cleared his throat. Even I picked up that it was a stalling tactic. “Mr. Burke, I am a talented, well educated physician. However, I will tell you at my best I do not consider myself even close to being good with others. That being said, I will ask you the following only because my ineptitude with people leads me to believe that being straightforward with patients is preferable to sugar coating any possible scenario. If you had the choice in hearing the truth (because you do), would you want me to answer that question honestly?”

“Screw the bedside manner garbage. I’d prefer that you be upfront with me Doc. I don’t want to be lied to.”

 “I appreciate that, and trust that as I have asked you your opinion about honesty, that you have answered in kind.” Shavers drew closer to my bedside, his voice which was a moment ago harrowed and strong, now became paranoid and hushed. “The truth is we have a preventative in place, much like that used to combat the flu virus. However, there’s nothing stopping someone from releasing a new, more powerful iteration of this synthetic disease that forces the CDC back to the drawing board and begins this catastrophe anew. The country is already hurting; it wouldn’t take much at this point to send it spiraling into total chaos.”

Lacking the words to speak in response to that statement, I sat still. Thinking only about what had happened when I had fallen out the night before.

Dr. Shavers seemed to have regretted his words. Hastily he scooped up his chart and made his way to the door.

 

“Leaving so soon?”

“I assumed that I might’ve made you uncomfortable.”

“No Doc, I’ve got lots more questions. Hopin’ you could indulge my curiosity.”

Shaver’s face switched to a countenance of surprise. “Hmm interesting. Very well.” He pulled up a steel chair from across the room. I didn’t think it right to mention that he could have easily answered questions standing on the other side of the room.

“Proceed,” he said and looked as if he was wondering if I was ready for this.

“How many people are left? You know, like in the world.”

“Eighty-five percent of the country’s population is gone; the majority of those were taken in the first two weeks.”

My mind searched, trying to pick out anyone I knew that might’ve been likely to survive. I came up empty. No wonder no one had come looking for me. My mind dared to think about the possibility that no one thought I’d be worth finding. Though when attempting to pin down the origin of this thought, I came up empty. Instead, I forced myself to carry on with Dr. Shavers. “Are there other survivors here?”

“We have about fifteen here currently.”

“Where is here?”

“You’re downtown, in Roosevelt High School.”

“This is a school?”

“Indeed. St. Elizabeth’s was overcrowded. We needed space in a hurry, as you might imagine.”

Laughing, “I’m not leanin’ too much on my imagination these days Doc. Looking out for facts. The other people here, are well enough to see?”

“You mean for you to interact with?” Shavers seemed skeptical, hesitant. “I’d ask that you hold off on meeting the other patients until we can be certain that you’re fully cured.”

I nodded. “When do I get released?”

“That too depends on you. How you progress and making sure you aren’t set upon the world too early,” Shavers laughed innocently, and then made a circular gesture over my body with his hand from where he sat, “After all that, checks out clean.”

Continuing my barrage of questions, “Did I come in here with a wallet, cell? Do hospitals leave that sort of stuff out in case coma patients woke up? Heck, do rules like that still apply in post apocalyptic scenarios?”

Smiling, with a little snicker, Shavers said, “Yes you have some personal effects that we’re holding for you-“

“Great, can you get me my phone at least?”

Shavers looked concerned, “Well,” after a breath he continued, “Yes, of course that’s reasonable.”

“Great Doc, thanks. One last thing?”

Shavers nodded.

“Hey, you gotta tell me if I’m gettin’ to pushy with the questions.” I smiled.

“Yes, well of course, but this too I suppose is part of your natural progression back to good health.” Dr. Shavers nodded, and smiled what I thought at least qualified as half a smile.

“Likewise, Doc. You know where to find me.” I was sure that joke was lost on his clinical mind, but I was entertained, even if it was self initiated and brief. For I was certain entertainment was my own natural progression back to good health.  Having Dr. Shavers around to bounce questions off of wasn’t my ideal method of amusement, but I had to admit, I thought I was actually starting to like the guy. On the other side of it, I figured for someone that considered themselves less than a people person, he seemed to be warming up to me as well. Though my mind wondered what his opinion of me really was. Then I began wondering why his opinion mattered to me so much in the first place…