Read Resistant for Free Online

existence. They are neither impaired nor well. The simple state of being is their life’s sole purpose. With a blind, singular ambition to produce more of themselves, these magnificent organisms exist unburdened by man’s frivolities. In many cases, we are helpless to defend against their might.”
    The room took on the oppressive atmosphere of a midsummer day, weighty and dense. Even Vicki Banks looked a bit ill at ease. Scupman broke the mood with a wan smile.
    “Let’s continue with our slideshow, shall we?” Vicki said.
    For the next twenty minutes, she ran through a series of slides depicting the functions of the laboratory and the work being done to develop effective antibacterial treatments. Several minutes were dedicated to an explanation of the different types of agents that had been declared by the government as having the potential to pose a severe threat to public safety.
    The two scientists made quite a pair. Vicki was calm and academic, Scupman utterly passionate.
    If Filstrup’s speech conveyed even a tenth of the fervor Scupman demonstrated for his work, Lou was thinking, the man would have more than a decent shot at winning the election. But that simply wasn’t the case. Lou risked another glance at Vicki Banks, and just caught her looking at him.
    Easy, buddy, he said to himself. Easy.
    “I have a question,” Harvey Plimpton said when Scupman had finished.
    “Yes, of course, then I really must be off.”
    “You’ve shown us a number of frightening bacteria. Is there one species in particular that you are most terrified of contracting?”
    “That’s an easy one,” Scupman said, his hands now clasped together beatifically. “Many of my colleagues might argue that any of several virulent strains of carbapenem-resistant enterobacter are the most lethal of all. It’s true that these are certainly terribly powerful bugs. For me personally, though, without question, to contract the newest strain of Streptococcus pyogenes, cause of the condition known as necrotizing fasciitis; to be eaten alive from the inside out; to go from one limb amputation to another, would far and away be the worst death imaginable.”

 
    CHAPTER 5
               It takes discipline to confront the most horrible truths.

             —LANCASTER R. HILL, A Secret Worth Keeping , SAWYER RIVER BOOKS, 1941, P. 110
    This was it.
    For the foreseeable future, Jennifer Lowe vowed, this was the last time she was going into an operating room. It had been eight days since Becca Seabury’s right arm had been amputated. Now, the teen was back in the OR. This time it was going to be her right leg.
    Becca was toxic. Really toxic. In addition to her leg, there was evidence of infection in her core—her lungs and heart, and the structures surrounding them. It had been horrible to watch. Jennifer had been at her side every day—ten- or twelve-hour shifts. No days off. Jennifer’s supervisor at White Memorial had warned her against making any other schedule changes with the other nurses, but she went ahead and did it anyhow. She had been on two- or even three-week medical missions to the Congo where she essentially worked twenty-four-seven.
    “I have an apartment and a new mattress waiting at home,” she would tell anyone who wanted her to take a break. “What do these people have?”
    It wasn’t the hours surrounding Becca’s care that were getting to her, it was the helplessness and frustration. It was the waiting. She shifted where she was standing on a riser in order to get a better view over the surgeon’s right shoulder. This case had been incredibly draining on the entire team since the original, triumphant repair of Becca’s arm, but the development of infection had been toughest on Dr. Beebe. He seemed to have aged significantly since the first call from the ortho floor that something was going wrong with their star patient.
    “Scalpel … suction … clamp … another clamp … scalpel … retract