Chapter Text
Patsy wasn’t sure if she had ever felt so exhausted.
Not that any days in camp were particularly easy, but today had contained a unique combination of physical and emotional drain that was threatening to completely undo her normally steely resolve. She sighed and glanced at her reflection in the window of the prep room. She noticed the soot still clinging tenaciously to her neck.
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Her day had started before dawn, when a new batch of incendiaries floated down, setting off alarms and forcing her from the cot she felt she had just settled down in. She spent the next several hours scrambling around with the others in the now-familiar routine of manning the pumps, buckets, and hoses in an attempt to prevent their makeshift canvas homes from going up in flames. The food-storage tent had been a particularly close call, but in the end all that had perished were several sacks of sugar, much to Monica Joan’s dismay.
No sooner had the fires been put out than the latest batch of refugees began arriving, trickling in in groups of 10-15, all clustered around their beacons. While all workers at the camp had basic medical knowledge, as a trained nurse, Patsy was called on to be of service in the medical tent more than most. As she made her way to the prep room to wash up, she ran into Trixie. Her fellow nurse was also covered in soot, but appeared to be in a fairly chipper mood despite it all.
‘No rest for the wicked, Patsy!’ she greeted with a wry smile, as she began scrubbing her hands in the uncomfortably cold bucket of water.
‘I know I’m no angel, but I’d no idea we’d been quite so wicked,’ Patsy returned with a suppressed yawn.
‘Speak for yourself, Mount.’ Trixie shot back with a laugh. ‘There’s a reason I’m on this side of the battle lines.’
A raised eyebrow and a half smile were the only response.
Once in the medical tent, they settled into their familiar routine. Shelagh checked people in and handed out temporary tent assignments. Patsy, Trixie and Evangelina took care of those they could, while the more complex issues were sent to Dr. Noakes. For the most part, it had been a morning of cleaning up cuts and scrapes and tending to mild cases of dehydration. A few cases were referred to Julienne for counselling, but on the whole, it had gone rather smoothly. Still, Patsy’s stomach had repeatedly reminded her that she hadn’t had a chance to eat breakfast.
There was to be no solace in luncheon, however, as their quixotic and temperamental cook was still in mourning over the lost sugar, and refused to come out of her makeshift greenhouse to prepare food, declaring only, ‘God’s sweetest gift to man has been reduced to mere shards of carbon. I must now restore balance by tending to His other carbon-based gifts.’
So Patsy and Evangelina braved the still-smouldering food tent in search of nourishment. Too tired to prepare anything particularly fancy, they had settled for a few packets of biscuits, 2 cans of beans, and some slightly melty Cheshire that undoubtedly needed to be eaten. As she surveyed the honestly rather sad spread, Trixie expressed her displeasure.
‘Honestly, what is even the point of having Monica Joan be our cook if she’s just going to refuse to enter the kitchen every time something burns? They drop those blasted incendiaries nearly every day. You think she’d be used to it by now.’
‘None of us signed up for this work to be wined and dined like the Duchess of Cornwall!’
Trixie rolled her eyes at Evangelina’s gruff response, ‘Perhaps not, but one can’t be expected to sustain oneself on cold beans and stale biscuits. I’m not asking for The Ritz, just a bit of effort.’
‘Just think, Trixie, we’re only meat and veg away from a full English. Oh, and the eggs of course.’ Chummy paused to consider, and continued a little less brightly, ‘I suppose those are all the most important bits.’
This elicited a small smile from Trixie, ‘Don’t get me started on the subject of eggs, Dr. Noakes. I strongly suspect Monica Joan trades away all of the eggs from those chickens of hers to Fred in order to get more seedlings.’
Evangelina huffed, ‘I don’t hear you complaining in the summer and fall, when we get to enjoy the fruits of those labours.’
‘True,’ Trixie considered, ‘Though it would make the late winter much more pleasant if the bounty of the year were spread out a bit.’
‘It’s all in how you think about it Trixie,’ Patsy chimed in, with a wry smile. ‘In these days of uncertainty, isn’t it nice to know we can always count on the stable monotony of plain ration biscuits?’
Even Evangelina couldn’t help a small chuckle.
After lunch, Patsy began her normal routine as the medical side of camp’s chief logistics officer. She spent several hours taking stock of inventory and checking in with everyone about required supplies and issues that needed resolving.
She was headed to the camp entrance to greet the shipment of general supplies that was due to arrive when the SOS signal sounded over the PA system. She sighed to herself. There was rarely enough to meet everyone’s needs, and if she wasn’t there Shelagh would undoubtedly grab more for the temporary housing side of camp. Her hopes that she wouldn’t be needed were dispelled by the five rapid beeps that followed the general signal. All five trained medical personnel were needed in the medical tent. Her heart leapt into her throat. Requesting all five of them was incredibly rare. Something must truly be wrong.
She met up with Trixie as they hurried toward the tent. The blonde, completely covered in soot and a fresh layer of grease, was in a bit of a huff.
‘I’d finally gotten around to the transmission on the old Land Rover Fred brought around last week, and it’s currently in several pieces. This had better be important!’
The sight that greeted them when they entered the tent stopped them both in their tracks. On one of the beds in the middle of the tent was a very pregnant, very hysterical woman. Chummy and Julienne were already there, trying to calm her in hushed tones.
‘Alright ladies, who remembers their obstetrics best?’ Evangelina asked gruffly as she bustled out of the prep room carrying an armload of sheets and towels.
Patsy was still too shocked to process the question. In her previous two years at the camp she had never seen a pregnant woman come through, let alone one this close to full term. Since the round-ups, many would-be refugee women couldn’t get pregnant, and those that could generally fled as soon as it was discovered. She felt a pang of extreme concern for the woman.
‘Why on earth was she traveling so far along? And alone? It’s incredibly dangerous!’ She cringed internally as soon as the words left her mouth. She hadn’t meant to sound so harsh.
‘While I’m sure that how we ended up here is a rollicking tale, I don’t think it matters at this moment, Nurse Mount. Now, I shall ask again, which of you has the most experience with obstetrics?’
‘I did a round of obstetrics at school.’ Trixie finally managed. ‘I remember quite liking it.’
Chummy chose this moment to join their conversation, speaking in a calm yet authoritative tone, ‘That’s just marvellous, Trixie. Why don’t you go change into some less…well used clothing and then return to assist. Patsy, would you mind gathering the necessary supplies while Nurse Franklin changes?’
‘Yes, doctor.’ They replied in unison.
Several minutes later, Patsy returned from the prep room bearing armloads of supplies, ‘We have a small amount of pethidine left, if you think that would be helpful, Dr Noakes.’
‘Given that Constance here has quite a large bump on her head and not the greatest recollection of the last several hours, I’m afraid we’re going to have to do this the old fashioned way.’ She directed her attention back to the woman, who had calmed considerably. ‘Now, Constance, it appears this baby is on its way. You did a marvellous job making it here to us. You are obviously incredibly strong and quite brave, and we’re all going to be here to help you do this. Are you ready?’
The woman looked uncertainly Chummy, ‘I want Hakim. Where is he? He should be here!’ Her voice cracked as she got increasingly agitated. She moved as if to get up, but winced as she adjusted her legs.
Chummy raised the woman’s long skirt to check for injuries, and suddenly froze.
‘What’s going on? Is there a-‘ Evangelina fell silent as she caught a glimpse of the woman’s calf.
Patsy craned her neck to see. Her blood ran cold when she saw the sticky residue around the puncture wounds. The tell-tale ribbons of black were already snaking under the skin up past the knee. No one moved. No one breathed.
At that moment, Trixie returned and, sensing the tension in the air, approached Patsy silently, a quizzical look etched on her features.
Patsy whispered, ‘Reaper bite.’
Trixie gasped. She shot a look of concern towards Constance. ‘Location and spread?’
‘Calf bite. It’s past the knee,’ Patsy replied.
‘Shit.’
Chummy made eye contact with Julienne, who was sitting calmly at Constance’s side, and shook her head.
‘What is it? What’s going on?’ Constance pleaded, looking back and forth between the two women.
Julienne remained, as always, utterly calm and composed. ‘There’s been a bit of a change of plans, Constance. We’re going to have to put you under general anaesthesia and deliver your baby by caesarean section.’
‘Why? Is something wrong with my baby?’
‘No, as far as we know, your baby is fine. The problem is that it seems you’ve gotten a bite.’
‘A bite?’ Constance’s face was etched with panic. ‘A Reaper?’ she croaked out.
Julienne nodded, ‘Yes, but it’s not Stage 4, we just need to…’ the rest of Julienne’s words were drowned out by Constance’s sobbing screams.
While Julienne continued to try to calm her, Chummy turned to the nurses.
‘Patsy, how many doses of antidote do we have?’
‘Five’
‘Good. Go get two, and raid the supplies to put together a caesarean packet. Evangelina, the anaesthesia supplies. Trixie, an amputation packet. I want all three of you scrubbed in. Now.’
By the time Patsy returned from the safe with the antidote, the other three were scrubbed in and inside the makeshift operating theatre. She handed over the doses and injection packets, catching a glimpse of the amputation implements laid out on the tray. She suppressed the surge of memories, and made her way to the prep room to scrub in.
She entered the room to find Julienne bustling around preparing the caesarean packet.
‘Oh, Julienne, there was no need. I could have.’
‘Please, don’t worry, Nurse Mount. I wanted to have something useful to do. I feel so terrible for her. To have lost so much. To have so much to lose.’
Patsy moved over to the sink and began scrubbing her hands. They both worked in silence for a few moments before Patsy asked, quietly, not sure she really wanted to know the answer, ‘Who’s Hakim?’
Julienne sighed. ‘Hakim was her husband.’ She paused and took a deep breath before going on. ‘Her memories are a little hazy, but she remembers they were walking together with a beacon group. She was moving very slowly due to her pregnancy, and the group grew impatient. Several kilometres from here, they left her and Hakim behind. The two of them made it a bit further, but without the protection of the beacon…’ she trailed off. ‘She doesn’t remember, or won’t let herself remember, exactly what happened. She ran and fell and must have hit her head. Then she woke up in tremendous pain alone on the side of the road. That she managed to walk here was something of a miracle. We can’t know for sure what happened to Hakim, but if she had only one bite…’ Once again, she couldn’t finish.
Patsy stared for a moment, feeling the rage build up inside her. ‘They left her.’ Her volume remained low, but her voice trembled with anger. ‘They left a heavily pregnant woman and her husband in the woods to die, and didn’t even tell us when they got here? We could have sent help!’
Julienne looked meaningfully at Patsy for a few moments, as if carefully considering her response. Finally, she replied softly, ‘The survival instinct is an extremely powerful one, Nurse Mount. Never forget that every refugee that comes through those gates is exhausted and genuinely fearful for their lives. Try not to judge too harshly.’ She seemed to consider whether she had said enough, before continuing somewhat hesitantly, ‘Guilt and shame are also incredibly powerful forces. They cause us to push away or bury deep within us things we’d rather not have to remember, let alone have to share with others.’
Patsy felt profoundly uncomfortable under Julienne’s steady gaze. Sensing that Patsy needed a moment alone, Julienne announced she was going to deliver the surgical packet and quickly left the room.
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Patsy stood at the sink, scrubbing her hands compulsively with cold water and trying her best to keep the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her at bay. But all of the sensory assaults of the day kept crashing down upon her: the lack of sleep and food, the memory of lying on a table, the tray of amputation implements, the palpable fear, the searing pain, then the being left behind, pushed away, forgotten.
She wasn’t sure if she had ever felt so exhausted.
She was scrubbing at the soot on her neck when she heard a commotion outside, followed by Peter bursting into the prep room.
‘Where’s Julienne?’
‘I’m right here.’ Julienne re-appeared, ‘What’s going on.’
Peter spoke very rapidly, panting slightly as he was still out of breath from running to the tent. ‘An old van just broke through the gates with four people inside, two quite badly injured. They just wouldn’t stop. Ploughed right through the gate. We need you to come right away. Evangelina too. To assess safety and next steps.’
‘Calm down, Mr Noakes, I don’t see why Evangelina or I are needed. The injured should be brought here. The gate secured temporarily, and reinforced in the morning. If the car is in the way, it can be pushed to the lot. We can speak to the two uninjured people in my office.’
‘You don’t understand. Two of them are wearing Redemptionist uniforms. We’re guarding them now, and the car doesn’t seem to be booby trapped, but we have to proceed carefully. The driver keeps assuring us it’s a misunderstanding, but we may be under some kind of attack.’
A cold fear shot through Patsy. She had always known they may be attacked, but she had honestly expected it to be an aerial bombardment. Bloc spies would surely have warned them of an impending large-scale ground attack. Her mind raced thinking of how to organize defences, evacuations. They were so poorly prepared.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Julienne’s calm voice.
‘I’m not sure after all this time the Redemptionists would send a van full of injured people as the vanguard of some great attacking force. But it is probably best to err on the side of caution. Have all four of them put under guard in the quarantine tent. Evangelina is otherwise occupied at the moment, but Nurse Mount and I will attend to the injured until she and Dr Noakes can come to advise.’ Peter nodded and hurried off.
Julienne turned to Patsy. ‘Pop your head in and tell Evangelina and Dr Noakes they are needed in the quarantine tent as soon as they are able. Trixie will have to stay with Constance. Stop by the kitchen and fetch Jane on your way over. She should be able to help us with the injured, as we’re a little shorthanded.’ And with that, she turned and left.
Patsy relayed the message to the slightly confused but generally otherwise-focused surgical team before heading off to the kitchen. Jane silently skittered off to change into scrubs while Monica Joan handed Patsy a much-appreciated muffin that she had somewhat perplexingly prepared for dinner.
As she made her way not-overly-quickly to the quarantine tent, munching on her still-warm dinner, Patsy considered Julienne’s words. If this wasn’t a part of some attack, why were Redemptionists so far north? Why had they broken through the gate? How had they gotten injured? Why on earth had they come here?
Patsy paused at the entry to the quarantine tent. She could hear heated voices inside. She closed her eyes. She knew she had a job to do. A moral obligation to care for the injured.
But on the other side of this door was the human manifestation of all of the hatred that had been sending waves of anguished refugees to their camp. That had unleashed the Reapers on the world. That had taken Constance’s husband. That had taken Patsy’s…she shook her head. Now wasn’t the time to go there. Not if she was going to survive tonight.
She took a deep breath and steeled herself to provide the best care she could without judgement. Without feeling.
She stepped into the restricted tent distant, detached; prepared to effectively assist with triage and then return to people who deserved her care. She was prepared for monsters. Needless to say, the sparkling blue eyes that shot up to meet hers, filled with steely defiance and determination but also profound warmth, were not what she expected and, for the briefest moment, it took her breath away.