Chapter 16 #2
Heads nodded. Murmurs of agreement rippled through the group. A young nurse with copper-red hair—Allie—spoke up first. "Yeah, I remember. She was super specific about which blankets to use. Said they were old inventory that needed clearing out."
"I must have packed a dozen of those boxes," added an older nurse—Trina—whose salt-and-pepper hair was pulled back in a severe bun. "Gave up my entire lunch break for it."
My hands curled into fists at my sides. I could feel the tension radiating through me as I prepared to detonate the bomb.
"Those supplies were contaminated. The blankets deliberately infected the blankets with smallpox before you packeed them.
And those boxes? They weren't going to local medical clinics.
" My voice rose, carrying to every corner of the emergency department. "They were sent to the Orc village."
The silence was a living thing, suffocating and absolute. I watched the blood drain from faces, watched as disbelief morphed into understanding and horror.
"What?" Tammy breathed, her hand going to her throat.
"Jordan, that's... that can't be..." Her expression shifted from shock to confusion.
"We all knew about the Orcs having an outbreak of smallpox.
But..." She looked around at the other nurses, who were nodding slowly.
"We were told it came from something they brought up from underground.
Some kind of spore or contaminated artifact from the tunnels. "
My jaw tightened, and I felt a flash of bitterness cross my face. "Let me guess where you heard that," I said, my voice sharp as a blade. "Nadine?"
Tammy's face went pale. "She... yes. She said she'd heard it from someone in public health." Her hand flew to her mouth. "Oh God."
Allie shook her head slowly, looking sick. "I can’t believe she’d send contaminated blankets."
"It's true," Ruka said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate in the sudden quiet.
"The village where those supplies were delivered—my village—became sick within days.
The fever, the rash, the suffering..." He had to pause, and I could see him forcing down the rage that threatened to choke him. "Four of our people died."
Allie made a small, strangled sound. "Oh my God. Oh my God, I touched those blankets. I folded them. I—" She looked at her hands as if they were covered in blood.
"We had children sick," I continued, my voice breaking slightly. "Babies. Elders. The whole village was quarantined. People were dying, and we couldn't stop it fast enough."
"Four people?" Trina whispered, tears streaming down her face. "Four people died because we..."
"You didn't know," Ruka said firmly, though I could hear the bitterness in his words. "The guilt belongs to one person alone."
Tammy's shock transformed into something else—a dawning horror mixed with fury. "That's why she's been so on edge. She's been waiting to see if anyone would figure it out." Her voice rose. "Where is she? Where the hell is Nadine?"
As if we'd conjured her from the depths of hell itself, Nadine's voice sliced through the charged air like a scalpel through flesh.
"What is going on here?"
She materialized in the doorway, her white coat billowing behind her like the wings of some avenging angel—though there was nothing angelic about the disgust that twisted her features when her gaze landed first on Ruka, then me. "What are you doing in my ER? And why is that animal in here?"
The nurses went rigid. Silent. But the atmosphere had shifted—I could feel it like electricity before a storm. They turned toward Nadine as one, and in their eyes was something new. Something that made her falter mid-stride.
Recognition. Horror. Understanding.
Nadine's scan of the group was quick, clinical, but I saw the moment she registered their expressions. Her jaw locked. She yanked a radio from her pocket with movements too sharp, too controlled. "Security, this is Nadine Fletcher. I need you in the ER immediately. We have an unauthorized—"
"Is it true?"
Tammy's voice cracked like a whip.
Nadine's finger went still on the radio button. "What?"
"Is. It. True?" Each word was its own demand now. Tammy stepped forward, hands trembling but voice growing stronger, louder, more certain. "Did you have us pack those donation boxes with smallpox-tainted blankets? Did you deliver a biological weapon to innocent people and call it charity?"
The silence that crashed down was absolute.
I watched Nadine's face cycle through emotions like shuffling cards—surprise, calculation, then that cold mask of righteous indignation sliding into place.
"That's insane. You've clearly lost your mind.
How would I even get hold of smallpox? Do you hear yourself? Do you hear how paranoid you sound?"
But I saw what she couldn't hide. The flicker in her eyes. The tension coiling in her shoulders. She was calculating, weighing variables, deciding how much to deny and how much to deflect.
"Your cousin." Trina's voice trembled but held firm. "You told me once... you said you had a cousin who worked in infectious diseases at the CDC."
Tammy's head whipped toward the nurse, then snapped back to Nadine. "I remember that too. You mentioned it when we were talking about the vaccination protocols."
Nadine's laugh was all edges and broken glass. "So what? Having a relative at the CDC doesn't mean—"
"You did it." Tammy's words came out on an exhale of pure horror. "Oh my God. You actually did it."
For a heartbeat, Nadine's carefully constructed facade crumbled. I watched the truth bloom across her features—defiance mixed with something darker, something that looked almost like pride. Then her lips curved into a smile that had nothing to do with warmth and everything to do with cruelty.
"And what if I did?" The words came out smooth as silk over steel.
"They're animals. Beasts that should be put down like the rabid dogs they are.
" Her gaze locked onto Ruka, burning with a hatred so pure it was almost tangible.
"You think you can just waltz into our world and we'll roll over?
Accept you?" She practically spat her last words at him.
"You're vermin. A disease. And there are plenty of us working on the cure. "
"Nadine—" Tammy's voice was horrified.
"Don't you dare judge me," Nadine snarled, whirling on her.
"You all think it. Every single one of you.
You're just too weak to admit it. These things aren't people—they're abominations.
" Her attention snapped back to me, lips curling in disgust. "And you?
You're worse than any of them. A traitor spreading your legs for monsters.
Those four Orcs who died? That was just the beginning.
I only wish it had been forty. Four hundred. Four thousand."
The fury that ignited in my chest was primal, absolute. My vision tunneled, every muscle in my body coiling tight as a spring. Every fiber of my being screamed to make her pay for what she'd done, for what she'd said, for the lives she'd stolen.
My fist caught Nadine square in the nose with a wet crunch that echoed through the room. Her head whipped back, and she crumpled, hitting the floor hard. Blood cascaded from her nose, painting her pristine white coat crimson. Behind me, Ruka made a sound that might have been suppressed laughter.
I shook out my hand, wincing slightly as I flexed my fingers. My knuckles were already starting to redden, and I could see the beginning of what would be impressive bruising. But when I glanced back at Ruka, I felt no regret—only fierce satisfaction.
"Worth it," I muttered under my breath, earning his smile.
"You psychotic bitch!" Nadine shrieked, clutching her face. "Security! SECURITY!" She fumbled for her radio, fingers slipping in her own blood. "I'm pressing charges! Assault! I want her arrested!"
Boots thundered in the hallway. Two security guards filled the doorway, hands hovering near their belts.
"Finally," Nadine gasped from the floor, blood streaming between her fingers. "Arrest her! She attacked me! I want her in handcuffs right now!"
But the guards' eyes weren't on me. They were fixed on Nadine, with expressions carved from stone.
"Ma'am," the older guard, Ralph, said, his voice devoid of sympathy. "You need to come with us."
Nadine's eyes went wide. "What? Are you insane? She's the one who—"
"We heard every word, ma'am," the younger guard—Mike, I think—interrupted, pulling handcuffs from his belt.
"Been standing outside that door since you radioed us.
" His jaw tightened. "Nadine Fletcher, you're being detained for investigation of bioterrorism, conspiracy to commit murder, and violations of the Biological Weapons Anti-Terrorism Act. "
The blood drained from Nadine's face faster than it poured from her nose. "You can't—this is insane—"
"On your feet. Now."
As the guards hauled Nadine to her feet, she twisted to look back at us, her face a mask of hatred and blood. "This isn't over," she hissed. "There are more of us. So many more. And we're going to finish what we started."
I caught the older guard's eye as they wrestled Nadine toward the door. "Thank you, Ralph," I said quietly, my voice still rough with adrenaline.
Ralph paused, giving me a slight nod, his weathered face softening just a fraction. "You're a good one, Dr. Jordan." There was respect in his tone, the kind earned, not blindly given.
Then Nadine was gone, her screamed threats and obscenities echoing down the hallway until distance swallowed them whole.
The aftermath crashed like a wave—questions, statements, official procedures that blurred together in an exhausting parade of authority figures and paperwork.