Chapter Sixteen
“Chase, I need you to wake up.” Norah didn’t want to wait until morning to tell Chase about her plan. She’d kept it from her long enough, and she hated having secrets from her.
“Huh? Is everything okay? Is it Jamie?” Chase bolted upright, snapping awake immediately. Her concern was nothing less than endearing to Norah, and she wished she’d come to Chase sooner for comfort.
“She’s okay. I mean, I haven’t heard anything. But listen. I need to tell you something.”
Chase’s shoulders visibly relaxed as Norah moved to the bed and sat beside her.
Her hair was sticking straight up on one side, and she was still squinting in the darkness.
A worn Alpert School of Medicine T-shirt hugged her shoulders and emphasized the sharp lines of her strong back.
Norah hadn’t realized how scared she was.
She hadn’t realized how much peace just being in Chase’s orbit brought her.
When she blinked out of her momentary daze, Norah realized Chase had been staring at her expectantly.
“So what is it?”
“This.” Norah placed the now-tattered packet on Chase’s lap and waited.
Chase studied it intensely, one page after the other, seemingly trying to absorb every word. When she was done, she looked back up at Norah with what could only be described as contained hope.
“A monoclonal antibody. It’s brilliant.” The sleep cleared from Chase’s eyes, and she grew more animated. “It’s perfect, really. The cytokine storm is what’s killing most people. If the drug can reduce the autoimmune effects, we could significantly reduce the mortality rates.”
“Agreed. But it’s not risk-free.”
“No.” Chase’s brow narrowed sharply. “The complications are pretty massive. I can’t imagine the FDA is going to push this trial through with 60% of the patients dying from the drug alone. The cytokine storm from J1 is killing people, and the drug to treat it also causes a cytokine storm. Perfect.”
Norah sucked in a deep breath and closed her eyes, her heart pounding. She didn’t want to do this without Chase. But she would if she had to.
“I want to try it on Jamie.”
Chase jerked her head back in clear shock. “What? No. No way. That’s insane.”
“She’s going to die, Chase. You saw her today. If she’s not intubated by now, I’ll be amazed. You know what the chances of her bouncing back at this point are.”
“Stevens did.”
Norah knew this. It’s what she’d been wrestling with since she first contemplated using the trial drug on Jamie.
If Norah had some way to know Jamie would be in the small percentage to pull through on her own, she would never allow this toxic medication anywhere near her.
But there was no way to know. And statistically speaking, this might be her best shot.
“I know Stevens did. But you also know what a miracle that was. The number of people who make a recovery like that after being on the ventilator is—”
“One to three percent. I’ve read all the numbers a thousand times, just like you. I know it’s unlikely Jamie will pull through on her own. But she’s healthy, and she’s young, and she’s a fighter.”
“A fighter? What does that even mean anyway? God, I hate when people say that.” Norah hadn’t meant to raise her voice so much, but she couldn’t help but think about Davey again.
Was Stevens tougher than Davey because he lived?
Did he just want it more? That was pure bullshit.
Nobody fights. They just get lucky, or they don’t.
“Why am I starting to feel like this isn’t just about Jamie anymore?” Chase sounded soft and patient, releasing the frustration Norah had been unfairly directing at her.
“I’m sorry.” Norah sighed. “I just can’t stop thinking about my brother. And I don’t know why. It’s not like Jamie was injured in combat. It’s not even like we’re that close.”
“But you are. You know as well as I do what a trauma bond like this can do. Friendships can be expedited.”
Friendships, and love, Norah thought.
“I guess so. I just want her to be okay. I need her to be okay. She’s my responsibility. I need to do this for her. I need to try.”
Chase sat silently for a long time, contemplatively staring off into nothing. Norah had already made up her mind. But she wished more than anything that Chase would stand up for her like she had failed to do so many years ago.
“For the record, I don’t agree with this idea. It’s incredibly risky, and never mind the logistics of how we’re going to pull this off.”
Norah had already thought that part through.
“But I am on your side a hundred and ten percent. I don’t have to agree with you to support you. If you think this is the right choice, I’m with you the whole way.” Chase smiled apprehensively.
A wave of relief pulsed through Norah, and she suddenly felt less alone again. She threw her arms around Chase’s neck and pulled her in tightly, soaking up the scent of the skin of her bare neck.
“Thank you.” It didn’t feel like enough, but it was all she could say for the moment.
The next morning a package arrived from Fed Ex addressed to Captain Norah Bishop.
Norah made sure she was there to intercept the mailman who was making the last leg of the trip, knowing Paul had overnighted the drugs to her like he’d promised.
She couldn’t risk anyone else unknowingly picking it up.
Not that anyone but Chase would know what she was doing.
She had to keep this decision as discreet as possible.
And as much as she wanted to keep Chase out of any possible consequences, Norah needed her help.
Once she was back in her tent, Norah cut the box open carefully with her pocketknife and pulled the small vial of medication out, staring at it with wonder.
It amazed her that such a tiny amount of liquid could cure something as awful as this virus, yet could also wreak its own tremendous havoc.
She had to act fast, not just to maximize Jamie’s chances of survival but to decrease the chances of getting caught administering a drug far from FDA-approved.
Norah realized she could lose her medical license, her job, or worse.
But somehow, with the world so chaotic around her, that possibility didn’t feel nearly as significant as it normally would have.
Only saving Jamie felt important in that moment.
“Did you get it?” Chase was waiting by one of the jeeps that had been parked just far enough away from the barracks that no one would see them take it.
Norah had texted her to meet her there once she had the medication in hand.
She’d told the others they would be on a conference call with the governor and the attorney general for the next few hours and would need utter privacy.
John most likely didn’t believe her, but he also didn’t seem to want to ask any additional questions.
“I’ve got it. Let’s go.” Norah glanced around nervously, acknowledging in that moment just how much danger she was putting Chase in.
She’d thought a little about her own future and what would happen if anyone found out about this irregularity.
But she had been too selfish to think about Chase’s until now, and she hated herself for it.
Chase hopped in the driver’s seat, and Norah didn’t argue this time about who was going to take the wheel.
“Hold on,” Norah said, just as Chase had turned the key in the ignition and the old engine sputtered with gusto. “You don’t have to do this with me.”
“I know I don’t.” Chase moved the shifter into reverse.
“I’m serious. It’s one thing for me to risk my own career, but to risk yours is asking way too much.”
Chase just kept reversing until she was able to flip the jeep into drive and pull forward, looking at the road ahead of them.
“It’s not too much. I’m here because I want to be here. I know what could happen.”
“We could go to jail.” Norah hadn’t really thought about that possibility until now, and a bout of panic flooded her.
“I’ve seen Orange is the New Black. Might not be so bad, you know.” Chase looked at her finally and winked. She was always so good at winking in a way that was smooth and charming and not the usual awkward and forced flirtation. And it never failed to make Norah laugh.
“You want to screw a bunch of inmates in the dirty shower stalls of a prison. I got it.”
“The only person I want to be screwing is you, and you damn well know it.” Chase reached over and placed her hand on Norah’s upper thigh, the warmth seeping into her skin and soothing her fear.
“We both know orange is not my color,” Norah said, stroking the hair on the back of Chase’s head as Chase leaned into her touch a little farther.
When Chase had first showed up in Louisiana, Norah had fought so hard against feeling any kind of joy.
Something about allowing herself to feel loved and happy amid such misery felt wrong.
But she had stopped fighting it. She wasn’t sure when, but at some point along the way she had given in to the perfect symphony of excitement and safety she felt around Chase and had stopped asking why.
She had quit badgering her inner thoughts about what she and Chase should be and what they had been.
She had also quit denying the way Chase still made her feel.
Norah was just going with it. And as they drove along the dirt road making the hour trek to the hospital, she was more grateful than ever that she was.