Chapter 16: Security

"What the hell is up with the traffic this morning?" Bill grumbled.

"Dunno, let's see what the local radio has on it," Bob replied reaching for the dash.

The dulcet tones of Ali Vowles filled the van's cabin.

"Major disruption to traffic continues in Bristol today, following last nights tragedy at a popular concert venue. Scores remain missing and hundreds are injured, after an unexplained explosion on stage during a performance by the New York rockers Les Bitches..."

"Shit my Cyn was at that, what the fuck..."

"Cyn was watching them perverts," Bob sucked air in through his nicotine-stained teeth, "din't she come 'ome then?"

"Nah, shuddup will ya, I wanna listen!" Bill barked.

"... there is no news from the management team of the band, but eye-witnesses report them being torn apart by a massive blast. The injured are being taken to both the BRI and Southmead Hospital's, due to the large number of orthopaedic cases. Over now to our roving reporter Laura Newton, who is at the disaster site..."

"It sounds bad Bill, what do you want to do, I mean if it were my daughter..."

"Let's listen, there might be a number to call," Bill replied.

Bob stared at his ashen-faced friend, he went to ask if Bill was OK, but something in the older man's expression froze the words on his lips.

"... so tell me Kylie, what was it like in there?" the reporter gushed.

"It was horrible, the place went crazy, people were screwing everywhere, and then some odd girl grabbed me. She tore off my tee-shirt and..."

"Um, thank you Kylie, you are clearly upset," Laura's voice tailed off for an instant, "Over now to Charlie Farley, who is co-ordinating the rescue. Mr Farley, do you have any comments on the reported orgy and assaults prior to the attack?"

"Yes I do young lady, these people, youngsters, have been through hell and back. Most of them are in deep shock, at the moment you can't rely on their comments. We need to give them time to recover."

"So are you saying they are lying? Kylie, what are your feelings on that suggestion?"

"I-I, my best friend is dead!" Kylie's voice descended into racking sobs.

"Leave her be, you insensitive twat! Really you people..." growled Charlie, before the mike was swept away from him.

"And with that controversy raging, this is Laura, handing you back to Ali in the studio."

Bill's voice reverberated in the van.

"Dead, people are dead! Oh my god... Cynthia."

"... concerned relatives should contact one of the following numbers 0117..."

Bill hung his head down, his creased forehead touched the steering wheel; massive shoulders undulated, and his large body shook. When finally his face reappeared from the shadows, his tanned cheeks were wet.

"It's OK Bill, I got the numbers, I'm sure Cyn will be fine, come on mate, chin up!"

"I hopes you're right Bob, I just hopes you're right."

Sister Amelia George stared down the ordered ward, never had she seen it so full. Multiple beds had been conveyed from the male wards to the female ones. Oddly most of the injured had been female, and the vast majority of fatalities male. Amelia's analytical mind was troubled, not by professional considerations, no after all, the major incident plan had worked perfectly, it was the nature of this disaster and it's outcome that was so off-key.

"Penny for you thoughts on this one sister," asked Dr Jordan.

"I wish I had some, I have never seen anything like this."

"Well I have read about similar cases, Post-Trauma. But never this manifestation, or so wide-spread, ooops sorry wrong word!" the young doctor laughed.

"I don't find it amusing, I mean some of them are quite poorly, and yet they still, they still -- I mean it's not normal!"

"Sister, I think even the medical profession now considers masturbation normal, even if this is a little excessive. Just keep them sedated, it seems to, er, reduce their 'activity'."

"But what can account for this? I mean how do we control them if they are still like this in a week's time? Physically many of them will be recovered, but we can't sedate them forever, can we?"

"No we can't, but I think this is temporary erotomania, remember that by all accounts these young women were in a highly excited state when the explosion occurred. This is just the aftermath of the two events juxtaposed."

"Well I for one hope it's soon over, I mean my nurses are not trained to look after sex maniac's."

"Amelia, they are still patients, look, I have to go and check on Sister McMahon's ward. Whatever you do, keep the mobile one's well under. We can't have them rampaging through the hospital in this state," Dr Jordan managed a luke-warm smile.

"You mean Margy has them as well?"

"Don't worry you are not the only one, we currently have three wards full and more arriving as we speak..."

Dr Jordan was interrupted by the opening of the ward's doubled doors. A bespectacled lady, clipboard in hand, gazed at the medical staff for one long second.

"Dr Jordan, a word!"

Derek Jordan walked briskly towards the swinging doors.

"Ah, see how he responds to his masters voice," chuckled Amelia, ignoring the two fingers he obscenely jabbed behind his long white coat.

In the corridor, Derek was confronted both by Winona Law, the Chief administrator and Harry Hill from security.

"Well Jordan, any change? Are they more... settled?" asked Winona.

"No, they are only 'settled' under heavy sedation, and even then many are still mast..."

"I get the picture, thank you. I have asked Harry to get his men to secure the affected wards. Only staff will get in or out, understood?"

"Staff and I presume visitors?" asked Derek.

"No, I am quarantining the wards. No visitors."

"But we have no reason for quarantine, this is purely psychological in origin. I must protest, there is no medical reason why..."

"Listen to me Jordan, we are canning this story. If it gets out, serious questions will be asked. The Hospital and the trust have had enough bad publicity. I am releasing this, by way of explanation."

Derek read the press release with increasing mirth.

"... it is believed that the explosion was most likely due to toxic gases leaching into the Academy club. At this time the nature and toxicity of the gases is unknown. In order to limit exposure to chemical and/or radiological risk the patients affected will be quarantined from all contact with the outside world. The trust will update relatives, and then the press when such restrictions are lifted. Until that time, no details, including identity, will be provided."

"This is outrageous, you don't have the authority..." Derek protested.

"I do Dr Jordan, the Trust just unanimously voted through the approval of my plan. Now if you forgive me I have others to inform."

Derek watched impassively as the administrator and her side-kick walked away. He whistled softly under his breath.

"Barking, completely barking."

He turned right and headed for the Keller ward, 30 yards later the corridor formed a t-junction. Derek swung left and sighed deeply as he walked towards the guarded door.

"Hi Doc, good to see you," wisecracked Skipper.

"I wish I could say the same Skip, this place has finally flipped!"

Derek opened the door a smidgen and squeezed through. For a couple of minutes he just observed the rows of beds. In a few, the occupants slumbered peacefully. The rest of the beds were witness to the passions of their residents, covers writhed and seethed as the limbs of the impassioned women thrashed wildly around.

Idly he watched as one of the student nurses approached a patient to take routine obs. He couldn't fail to notice how lithe she was under her pale blue uniform, as she was silhouetted momentarily by a window which she passed. She moved towards one of the inactive patients and began to attach a blood-pressure cuff. An instant later the young nurse screamed.

The patient had obviously been feigning sleep. In a flash, she gripped the startled student by the back of the neck, and threw her bed clothes back. Her nightdress had ridden up and her inflamed sex was exposed. With brutal speed, she forced the young nurse's face to her hungry organ. The patient ground her vulva savagely against the hidden face. By the time Derek had reached the bed, the female occupant was part way into her orgasm, as she hammered her labia against the nurse's screwed-up features.

Dr Jordan grasped the student's quaking shoulders and tried in vain to release her. He summoned up his strength, and pulled once more. The spluttering nurse was pulled free, but with such force that both she and the doctor tumbled backwards onto the cool ward floor. By the time they recovered the patient had vanished, the only witness to her passing was the swinging ward doors.