VOLATILE (I) : peter pan ouat

When Viral Might Have Happened

Like all the tents, the medic tent is bigger on the outside then on the inside. As I step in, the room is larger than I remember it being, with far more cots and space. The tiny area that once fit only a bed and a table now is spacious, with the patients in rows. I count five boys, lying down on the cots. It's empty for the most part, maybe ten people in here total. Which is a third of the people here, so I guess it's a bit.

Devin is being treated for a massive cut down his arm by another boy I don't recognise.

The goriest thing in the room is somehow the most comforting. As I pass the two, I notice all the cots with boys in pale sheets with pale skin.

There is a boy, his name I do not know. He is crying, next to the cot in the farthest corner, holding a porcelain hand in his arms. Shaking. Harry holds the boy, as he sobs. The porcelain hand's body is hidden beneath a white sheet, and it doesn't seem to be moving. Breathing, even.

The cot next to it is the one I run too. Max. His cheeks are flushed, and it sounds as if he's breathing out of a straw. Instinct takes over as I grip his hand tightly in mine, telling him to breathe.

"I can breathe," his voice is but a whisper. "I just can't talk."

I nod, stroking his wet hair that no longer hangs over his face like a visor.

"I'm fine." He tells me. "Steven was much sicker than I am. He went from hyperventilating to no longer breathing."

The porcelain body is Steven's.

"Steven had asthma." A voice rings out from behind me.

Devin, I hadn't seen him in a while.

I let go of Max, standing up to face Devin.

"Your kid will be fine." He assures me.

Nothing pops into my head to say to Devin. He's not one to approach people in attempts to talk to them, let alone console them.

A cough comes from the bed beside Max's. I peer over and spot Thomas, sleeping soundly.

Pasty skin, sweaty forehead, shallow breathing. All the symptoms are there.

"How long has Thomas had it?" I ask Max.

"Started vomiting right after the funeral. He's been out cold since." He chokes a little, a failed attempt at a laugh. "Or I guess he's been out hot since. Because, you know, he's got a fever."

I don't chuckle, but I crack a grin for his sake. "Yeah, I get it."

I pat his sheets before moving away, over to Harry.

When he sees me, he gives the boy a final rub on the back before moving to me.

"There's no way it's food poisoning." I tell him.

He nods. "It could be some sort of bacteria though. Maybe salmonella? I don't know, I'm not familiar enough with sicknesses acquired through food."

Neither am I.

"I think we are missing the bigger picture." I tell him. "What if it's not food related?"

"It could be possible." He says. "But unlikely I'd think. How else would both Max and Steven catch it? I doubt they've ever met until now."

I guess that's fair.

"If it was food, why doesn't everyone have it?" I demand back. "And why did Thomas catch it."

He shrugs.

That's when it clues in. "Where's Robert?"

"You didn't see him?" He asks. "He's the first cot after Patrick."