Right now she needed a good old-fashioned shot of midazolam. Something to sedate her and calm her down to a mild panic.
Florida, in summer, in a hazmat suit was not a good place. The suit was airtight, with a one-piece jumpsuit underneath and an outer suit impermeable to most chemicals. The sealed hood with its viewport was stifling, even though she had her own air supply, and the protective gloves made her feel like she had no dexterity at all.
The suits were a necessary evil. The route of exposure of the Marburg virus from the fruit bats had never been discovered. They knew how the virus passed from human to human, but how the virus had got into humans in the first place was still open to debate. It could be airborne, through contact with body fluids from the bats, or from surfaces in the caves. Therefore all staff had to wear protective, airtight suits. Nothing else was an option. They couldn’t risk any more people being exposed to the virus.
She turned. There was no point moving just her head as the hood stayed in place and she ended up looking at the inside. She had to move her whole body round by shuffling her feet in the protective boots. Sweat was already beginning to pool on her forehead and she wasn’t sure if it was the fact that the environment within the suit could be up to twenty or thirty degrees hotter than the temperature outside, or if it was the thought of going into those dark, imposing caves. As soon as the suit was sealed the humidity went up to one hundred per cent within a few minutes—not comfortable for any human.
People were assembling around her. The box for transporting the samples they would retrieve from the caves was sitting in front of her. She could hear Donovan talking through the speaker in the hood to those around about him.
The words were the slightest bit distorted, coming through the hood. But was that a trace of anxiety she could hear?
Grace tried some deep breathing. Long, slow breaths in and out. Her skin was prickling at the deep, blackness at the back of those caves. There was some lighting around the front, but the tourist part only lay in the front part of the caves. Where they were going was waaaaayyy back.
She shifted on her feet. She wanted to get this over and done with. If she’d known Donovan would keep talking for so long she would never have let them seal her suit. It was time for some definitive action. She picked up the kit box. ‘Are we ready?’
Donovan’s eyes met hers. There was something about wearing these suits. Lumbering around as if they were about to take a space-walk. There was layer upon layer within these suits and it almost felt as if they were separated by miles instead of inches.
The sun was reflecting off the faceplate of his sealed hood, making it hard to pick up any visual cues. But Donovan wasn’t acting the way he normally did. He was saying twenty words when four would do.
It was almost as if he was stalling.
But why?
* * *
He’d looked at the plans for these caves. Four hundred metres in and they would have to turn a corner, following the natural line of the cave. Four hundred metres in and he would lose sight of the exit. He didn’t care about how dark it was. He didn’t care about how deep they went.
He just wished the way out was always visible. Always in his line of sight. If it was, he would be fine. He could do this. But the map had already told them that wouldn’t be possible.
Which was why he was currently using every delaying tactic under the sun. He hated this. He hated it that he felt like this.
This was the first time his childhood phobia was actually going to cause a problem for his job.
Over the last few years he’d always managed to hide his fear, control it even. The isolation chamber had been tough, but in his head he had always imagined the exit route. But the caves were unfamiliar. They weren’t so easy to visualise.
The state ranger was beginning to look annoyed. And no wonder. A few beads of perspiration were already winding down his back—and he was used to wearing a hazmat suit. The poor guy must feel as if he were boiling alive.
He glanced over at the dark caves once again. It was almost as if they were mocking him, laughing at him and his juvenile fears.
This wasn’t a sealed-in elevator with a door that might never open. Prickles started along his arms, running down to the palms of his hands. It was like a million little centipedes stamping over his skin. He kept talking to himself. Willing himself to stay calm.
He had control. He was choosing to walk in there. He was the team leader. He had to collect these samples and establish if this was the cause of the outbreak. He had responsibilities, to himself and to his team.
And to Grace. She was shuffling around next to him as if someone had put itching powder in her suit. She’d never done this before. He had to set a good example for her.
He had to do this. The quicker he went in there the quicker he got out.
There. He’d convinced himself.
Grace had picked up the sample box and was hovering.
‘Let’s go, people.’ He moved quickly before he changed his mind, walking as best he could in the uncomfortable suit. Grace and the state ranger quickly followed, but he was so focused, so intent on his goal that he barely noticed.
In and out. In and out. If he kept saying it, he might believe it.
* * *
Grace was doing her breathing exercises. She was clutching the sample box as if her life depended on it. What she really wanted to do was turn on her heel and run but, perhaps thankfully, her clumsy suit didn’t allow for that.
She felt as if the blackness from the caves was reaching out towards her like a giant black hand, crossing over the pathways drenched in Florida sunlight and trying to envelop her and suck her in. It put her nerves on edge.
There was a bright white spotlight near the cave entrance, with another few lighting up some of the internal walkways. Her steps slowed as she neared the entry point. Her throat was dry and scratchy even though she’d taken a drink just before she’d been sealed into the suit. Any more liquid could result in other problems. What went in had to come out and she had no idea how long they would be in these caves.
She swallowed. The lights were fine, but they only focused on the front area. The state ranger was already heading through the first cave. Why did the fruit bats have to roost so far into the caves? Sadistic little critters.
She squeezed her eyes shut for a second—it was easier not to look—and walked straight into the back of Donovan. The face plate bashed against her nose. ‘Ouch!’
Donovan turned round. He had the strangest expression on his face. ‘What’s wrong?’ His voice was snappy and sounded even stranger as it came through the speaker and echoed around the cave.
‘I...I...’ Her brain wouldn’t work. She couldn’t figure out the words she wanted to say. The last thing she wanted to do was tell Donovan she was scared of the dark. It made her sound like a five-year-old.
Already the hairs were standing up on the back of her neck. The lights didn’t reach around the corner they were about to turn and the shadows around her were disappearing rapidly.
It took a few minutes to realise that Donovan hadn’t moved. His feet seemed just as stuck to the floor as hers.
‘Hey!’ The call ca
me from the state ranger, who hadn’t wasted any time reaching the back area of the caves. ‘Are you two coming?’
She gulped. Was she? Her hand reached up automatically to catch a lock of her hair and wind it around her finger. Impossible. Layer and layers were in the way.
Donovan’s face changed. Was that a hint of a smile? Followed by a nervous laugh?
Her shoulder was itching uncontrollably. She had absolutely no chance of being able to scratch. She turned her back to the wall of the cave and pressed herself against it, trying to avoid the lumpy oxygen supply strapped inside her suit, while rubbing gently on the wall.
He was looking at her oddly.
She took a deep breath. ‘I’m not good with caves.’ Her eyes skirted around her surroundings. She was trying not to let her feelings envelop her. ‘I’m not good with being in the dark. I was attacked a few years ago in a dark parking lot. Ever since then I’ve slept with the light on.’ The words rushed out of her mouth before she could stop them. She didn’t want to look at him. She didn’t want to see the disappointment on his face.
Silence. All she could hear was her own breathing. Then one word came out of the darkness. The one she least expected.
‘Snap.’
* * *
This was the worst feeling in the world. He’d never felt so exposed as he did right now.
Trouble was, Grace’s expression was pretty much mirroring his own right now—and it wasn’t because she was reflecting off his plastic hood.
He reached out and touched her shoulder. ‘Do you want to leave, Grace?’
He was the team leader. He had to ask the question. He had to look out for his staff member. To be honest, if she said she wanted to leave right now it would give him an excuse to leave too.
The thought of having a panic attack around his colleagues was more than he could bear. But the prickling feeling on his skin, thudding heartbeats and rapid breathing couldn’t really be anything else.
But he couldn’t think about himself right now. His own sensations of panic were being overtaken by a whole load of rage. ‘Is that what the scar is on your shoulder?’