The reply was slightly muffled. “He stayed upstairs to make a few calls to the surf school. He wanted to check all the kids had been taken to an evacuation center.”
Prying the doors apart was more difficult than it looked. Mamo put the edge of the ax into the gap at the doors and tried to turn it sideways to widen the gap. After a few minutes he turned to Amber. “You keep holding it,” he said gruffly as he slid his hands and foot into the space that was only a few inches apart.
Amber kept trying to turn the head of the ax wider, while keeping it in the space. Her shoulder muscles ached. Her jaw was tight. From the other side she could see a flash of light. The nurse inside must be using her phone. White knuckles appeared on the inside of the door. She could hear the grunts and groans from Jack. “Grrr...”
After a couple of minutes the doors started to release a little further; both Mamo and Jack stuck their shoulders and body weight in the doors, using their feet to push the opposite door apart.
The elevator wasn’t completely aligned with the floor—probably the reason they’d had so much difficulty prizing the doors apart.
The nurse looked numb. Amber ducked inside and grabbed the end of the bed. “You get the ventilator,” she said to the nurse. “There will be a bit of a bump as we push out.”
Mamo and Jack stayed at their doors, holding them back with their body weight as they guided the bed through between them. The nurse jerked as the bed thudded the few inches to the floor, then steered the portable ventilator alongside. The lights flickered in the corridor again.
“Got everything?” checked Mamo. Jack nodded as he pulled out the emergency trolley and let it roll across the floor. The two of them glanced at each other, then gave a nod and both jumped. The doors slid back into place swiftly just as the lights flickered back on in the basement.
“Thank goodness,” breathed Amber.
Mamo gave a nod of acknowledgment as he glanced at Aaron in the bed. “Everyone okay? I need to go back to the lab and check the machines.”
Amber, Jack and the nurse pushed Aaron into the room in the basement. It only took ten minutes to make sure he was safely set up alongside Zane and that the power supply was working as it should be. The IV infusions with fluids and antibiotics stopped pinging, as did the cardiac monitor and ventilator.
“We’re good.” The nurse nodded. “I’ve phoned one of the ICU doctors and they’re going to base themselves downstairs with us.” She gave a rueful smile. “Don’t worry. I’ve told them to take the stairs.”
Amber walked back over to where she’d abandoned her paperwork. She had to get back on task. Time was ticking.
This was her responsibility and she was in charge. “Jack, how do you feel about making some calls? Let’s do the international ones first. I can give you numbers for the public health agencies in the countries our patients are heading to. Following the patients up will be their responsibility.”
Jack gave a nod. That tiny little feeling she’d had that he might want to take over seemed to flutter away. “Yeah, I’m not sure how long our phone lines will work. Let’s try and do these as quickly as possible. Then we could look at the people who’ve returned to any of the surrounding islands. See if we can get someone local to prescribe and supply the antibiotics.”
She was pleased. He was methodical and logical. Definitely what she needed right now. It was odd to think that last night she’d fallen asleep next to a man she barely knew and now she was working with him in a virtual blackout.
One of the nurses gestured to them. “There’s an office over there. Why don’t you go and try the phones?” She pulled her watch from her pocket. “According to this, we have about ten minutes before the hurricane hits.”
It was like a chill rushing over her body. Should she be scared? Should she actually be terrified? She’d faced plenty of disease disasters, but never a natural one like this. “What happens next? What happens to everyone out there?” she asked the nurse.
“They’ve moved most of the tourists from the beach-front hotels into emergency shelters. Hawaii has a hurricane preparedness guide. Unfortunately we’ve not had the warning time that would normally be in place. Things have changed quickly.”
There was a tiny wave of panic. “Is there anything else I should know about a hurricane?” She hated the fact her voice sounded high-pitched.
“There’s a standard set of instructions.” One of the nurses pulled a leaflet from her bag.
Stay indoors away from windows, skylights and glass doors.
Secure and brace exterior doors. Store as much water as you can.
Close interior doors and take refuge in a small interior room, like a closet or hallway, on the lowest level of your home.
Jack pulled a face. “How do these apply to a hospital?”
The nurse gave a nod. “We’ve moved all the patients away from windows, mostly to the central corridors, and we’ve evacuated the top floor and ground floor. We’re filling the baths and sinks with water to keep the toilets flushing, but the kitchen says it has ample supplies of drinking water.” She closed her eyes for a second. “After that—we pray. This hospital has been standing for thirty years. We’ve had a few hurricanes in that time. We just hope that it will hold together again.”
Amber gulped. “What about the staff? Do you all have to stay?”
She wasn’t thinking about herself. She was thinking about all the local staff that might have families of their own close by to worry about. With the emergency warning coming so late, most of them might not have had time to make plans.
The nurse held out her hands. “We’ll manage. The hospital has an emergency plan. Extra staff get called in as relief. They help transfer the patients and stock the ER. Some of the rest of the staff had to go home to sort out family issues. I came in early to let my friend go home to her disabled mother.” She pointed at the nurse dealing with Aaron. “Nessa only started here a few weeks ago. Her family are on Oahu. She wouldn’t have time to get there, so decided just to lock down here where she could be useful.”
She gave an anxious glance between Amber and Jack. “No matter what your experience, after the hurricane hits, we’ll need doctors. Probably more than you know.”
Jack gave the briefest of nods. His face was serious, but he didn’t seem intimidated at all. “I’d rather be working than holed up in the hotel. Let us sort out what we can about these meningitis cases. After that, put me where you need me.”
The nurse gave a nod. “I’ll phone up to the ER and let them know we might have some additional help.” Her eyebrows rose a little in question. “What will I tell them?”
His voice was firm. “Tell them I’m an army doc and can deal with whatever they need.” His eyes met Amber. “Dr. Berkeley works for the DPA. She’ll help out where she can.”
“Great.” The nurse picked up the phone and turned her back on them.
Amber gulped. For infectious diseases she was fine. But she wasn’t quite as confident as Jack at being thrown in at the deep end. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel capable. She would always help out in an emergency. She wasn’t sure how qualified or equipped she’d be to deal with things. She’d never really worked in an ER setting. She’d been part of team expeditions for the DPA. But she’d never been in charge. Never had the full responsibility herself. But those expeditions had been more coordinated. She’d always ended up working in pre-ready emergency clinics or vaccination hubs.
Her director had already mentioned he thought she was ready to try her hand as a team leader on a field mission to further her experience. But this was entirely different—totally out with her normal expertise. It was almost as if Jack sensed something from her. He leaned over and whispered in her