The Deadliest Strain

Chapter Twenty-Five

David Link had spoken to the main office at Reynolds Pharmaceuticals before he'd come on board the Harmony. The 10,000-unit shipment of Strep-Tester was ready to go out on Monday. On the phone, he'd given his input about suggested late changes in the regional shipping numbers. He was sure the numbers he'd okayed had been sent out by e-mail to the sales force by now. There was, no doubt, plenty of grumbling going on across the country. This was a good time to be away and incommunicado.

"I think they should follow this trip with a weeklong excursion providing scuba diving instruction."

Realizing one of the mothers was talking to him, David turned away from the railing and focused on what was going on around him. Kids and parents were gathered on deck, helping the divers get ready to go over the side for the next collection.

"That's true," David agreed, watching the buzz of activity.

Doing chores was clearly a treat on the Harmony. The kids fought over the opportunities to take responsibility for what was happening. Right now, half a dozen kids were working together, doing the last-minute checks for the two men who were supposed to go down.

Only one of the divers was on deck. Philip had not appeared yet.

One of the boys was connecting the underwater video camera to the cables. A lanky blond girl wearing a Phillies cap was loading cassettes into the handheld cameras that the divers took down. Baskets and nets for the samples were tagged and nearly ready to go. Flags were bundled together. Other tools were put in a mesh bag and placed on the deck.

Philip had explained to everyone over breakfast that they were collecting samples this morning at an active ocean disposal site. Apparently, there was currently some controversy between the EPA and the Army Corp of Engineers whether or not this specific location should stay open. The researcher had told everyone that he would be submitting a report with their findings about this location to both agencies. He was also going to include the names of all the people in the crew who helped with the report.

The comments had definitely made everyone feel like professionals, including the parents and caregivers, though they had nothing to do with the actual work.

David looked around. He hadn't seen Philip come up yet, but he knew he would. He'd looked better during breakfast and seemed to be over the worst of whatever he was fighting.

"Is there any way I can go down with them?" Craig's son asked him. "I can hold the camera or be in charge of carrying the nets."

Every teenager on deck picked up on the request and started asking the same question. The woman next to David gave him a "didn't I tell you" look.

Craig's firm "no" was to everyone. The scuba diving was to be left to the divers. Period.

David realized that his son wasn't one of the kids asking to go down with the divers. He moved away from the dive station, looking for him.

Sally always said that she knew their children were getting sick before they got sick. Or she knew they'd be getting a fever before their temperature went up. David, the girls and Josh always laughed at her, but she was always right.

On the far side of the boat, in sight of the divers' station, Josh was sitting by himself on a bench, tying some ropes.

David had woken up this morning with this feeling that he couldn't explain — like there was something wrong with Josh. He figured Sally's parenting skills must be rubbing off on him, finally. Of course, the twelve-year-old had denied feeling sick.

David made a mental note to check Josh's temperature, take a look at his ears and listen to his lungs. The leukemia made Josh susceptible to illnesses. To help them keep track — and to help them stay calm — their pediatrician had armed them with all kinds of diagnostic tools. Of course, they'd had to learn that every cold or sore throat didn't have to mean the child's death was imminent. Still, the doctor agreed that in Josh's case it wasn't a bad thing for David and Sally to stay on top of his health and make sure they caught everything early.

Kirk, the other diver, was pulling on his oxygen tanks with the assistance of a dozen willing hands. The wet suit he was wearing today had a hood, and he was wearing gloves and foot protection, too. It had been explained that because this was an active dump sight, the divers would have to use extreme precautions to keep from exposing themselves to dangerous substances. There was still no sign of Philip, and Josh didn't seem interested in what was going on.

David worked his way toward his son. So far during the trip, he'd tried to give the twelve-year-old some space. He didn't want to baby him, the way they usually did at home. Josh wanted to be one of the kids, to be normal. There was nothing David wanted more.

He sat down on the bench next to his son, making sure there was a manly amount of distance between them.

"A little bit chilly today, isn't it?" David asked.

The boy nodded.

The boat had tied up to the yellow special-purpose buoy that marked the site, but the gusts of wind were kicking up whitecaps and making the vessel rock. David looked up at the flags snapping in the wind.

"Do you want me to go and get you a thicker sweatshirt?"

"No."

"I wonder where Philip is?" David asked.

Josh looked up from the elaborate knot he was making. "He should be up any minute." He cleared his voice a couple of times. "I was talking to him downstairs before I came up."

"You're starting to sound kind of hoarse."

"It's not too bad."

"Josh," David drawled. He didn't have to say more. The boy had been told many times the importance of being honest about how he felt.

"It's my throat. It's sore."

The immediate panic of thinking how far they were from the closest hospital shot through David. He forced that fear to the background, though, and did a quick mental check of the medications the pediatrician had sent along with them. Josh had a ten-day supply of antibiotics, in case he needed it. They would be back on shore long before that ran out. David and Sally had been warned not to use the medication unless it was absolutely necessary. They needed the twelve-year-old to fight the viral illnesses himself. Antibiotics weren't the answer to everything. David knew that as well as anyone, from all his years of working in pharmaceuticals.

David remembered the two Strep-Testers he'd brought along. He'd given one of them to Philip. He didn't know if the program director had used it or not. But they still had one left, anyway.

"How about if we go down to the fo'c'sle and I do a quick swab of your throat?" David asked. "How's that, eh? Sounding pretty nautical, ain't I there, matey? Fo'c'sle… I'll be saying 'shiver me timbers' next. Come on. It'll just take a minute. I've got these new testers, not even on the market yet."

"No, Dad. I'm fine."

"Josh, if you have strep throat, things will only get worse. The sooner I test it, the sooner we'll know."

Josh looked around the deck reluctantly. "Not yet. In a little bit. Maybe after the dives are over."

Kirk was ready to go, sitting on the railing and waiting for Philip. With the help of the kids, he started lowering the video camera cage and the nets carrying their tools into the water.

Just then, Philip went past them without saying anything. He was already dressed in his wet suit with the hood up and the gloves and boots on. David thought he was walking awkwardly.

"It must be tough coming up that ladder with all that gear on," he said confidentially to his son.

"I think I have what Philip has," Josh said out of the blue. "He's doing pretty well without all the drugs. I'll kick it myself, too."

David decided there was no point in arguing with the twelve-year-old now. Perhaps the downside of this trip, what with hanging out with people like Philip and his crew, was that Josh would naturally be influenced by their alternative-medicine attitudes. Another week and he could have a complete natural-healing nut on his hands. The past two nights Josh had refused to have any kind of meat with dinner, just because he heard Philip say he was a vegetarian.

Whatever, David told himself. Just so long as Josh got everything he needed now. He could fight the rest of it out with his mother when they got home.

"Are you okay?" David heard Kirk ask the other diver. "You don't look too good."

Philip was pulling the oxygen tanks on his back with the help of one of the parents. David saw him wave at Kirk to go in.

The younger man waited until Philip joined him at the railing. A few words passed between them that David couldn't hear from where they were sitting. There didn't seem to be any reason for concern, though, as the two flipped backward into the water together.

Some of the kids rushed to where a small TV hung on a portable mount next to a cabin door.

Josh was shivering.

"Come on, Captain Jack," David joked encouragingly. "Let's get it done before them there barnacles grows on us."

The boy looked at him and shook his head. "I think there's something wrong with you, Dad."

David laughed. "You're probably right, but we can do this before the video feed comes up. We run inside, you get another sweatshirt, and I'll take a second and check your throat."

"Okay," Josh replied, reluctantly pushing to his feet and following David downstairs.