Two Villains

Ch. 43- Rose and Thorns

It took me two days to assist the movers in relocating my belongings from Camden to Surrey. Despite having a few items to move, I was incredibly busy with hospital duties. During those two days, I had to confront the deaths of several blast victims.

Soon, I realized my panic attacks were resurfacing, but now they followed a pattern. My concerns were solely focused on my patients, many of whom were children and teenagers. Whenever I found myself at the elusive Volkner Manor in Surrey, I felt suffocated by guilt in my lavish bedroom.

The commute from Surrey to Camden took an hour, prompting me to opt for 24-hour shifts at the hospital. Eventually, it escalated to working around the clock, with me staying in the hospital's doctor's quarters during my off-duty hours.

Days passed, and my life slowly descended into chaos. Our surgery unit, Unit C, spared no effort in treating the patients, but our efforts often fell short. Many succumbed to severe burns, their agonizing screams echoing through the burn unit with each dressing change. Sepsis claimed the lives of those with injuries, adding to the chaos.

The most distressing aspect was the unusual burn patterns observed in the victims. Some had burned flesh down to the bone, a phenomenon not typical in burn cases. Though I hadn't been the one to initially receive the burn patients that night, I felt compelled to discuss my suspicions with someone.

Brett was smoking outside on the sidewalk, his shift over, waiting for his brother Paul to return, who worked as a nurse in the same hospital.

"Why did they have such injuries?" I asked him. Brett shot me a dirty look.

"Such as?"

"Why was their flesh burned down to the bones? Why was their skin sticky when you retrieved them from ground zero?"

Brett blew out a puff of smoke. "Why don't you ask your Army Major butler cum bodyguard about it?" His voice dripped with hatred.

I was taken aback by his behavior. "What do you mean?"

"Ever heard of a Phosphorus bomb?"

I shook my head in reply.

"All these people died from a Phosphorus bomb attack. I had to sit down in front of the police, intelligence—to testify what I had seen, what I had known. They told me the bombs terrorists used were phosphorus bombs. They mix petroleum jelly with phosphorus so that people could burn properly. And God knows what awful shit they had used in those bombs," Brett spoke like a ghost. My heart sank with his revelation. I had heard about phosphorus bombs in movies, but I had no idea how horrific they could be.

But then another thought hit me: If all the bombs were planted inside the tunnels, then how big were those bombs?

Without a single thought left in my brain, I called Rhys. He didn't answer my call. So I decided to call him again, but I received a page from the CCU unit. One of my patients had high blood pressure but a very low pulse; he was likely having a myocardial infarction. So, I texted Rhys about the bombs and everything I wanted to know from him.

Momentarily forgetting about my text to Rhys, we rushed to give CPR to my CCU patient. I heard the ping of my phone, assuming he had texted me back.

As the night went on, I forgot about Rhys. I forgot why I had texted him in the first place. My shift ended at 8 pm, but I had to sign off on discharge papers and prepare official case documents for some deceased patients as the police had requested. So, I returned to my office and began my work.

Lost in front of my laptop, my phone buzzed. Rhys had called me. I decided to ignore it. It buzzed again. I ignored it. It kept ringing, so I put it on airplane mode and focused on my work.