“Her epinephrine. With her allergy, she should always be carrying it.”
“I don’t…”
“Damn!” Erica said. All she found were Tory’s driver’s license and seven dollars in cash. She wasn’t surprised; both of the severe allergic reactions she’d seen in the ER resulted from the patients not carrying their epi kits.
“Damn!” Erica yelled. “Did they call the paramedics?”
“They’re on their way,” someone said.
“How long?”
“They didn’t say. Maybe five minutes?” The response was more question than answer.
The nearest EMS unit could be all the way across town for all she knew. She had to do something, otherwise Tory would asphyxiate in minutes. Even if she didn’t, it wouldn’t take long for the girl to sustain irreversible brain damage. In an emergency room, a tracheotomy might have been an option, but under these conditions and with her lack of experience, she could just as easily kill the girl. Erica’s only choice was to stop the swelling before it got any worse.
By now, a few more of the students had gathered around the scene. An obese man wearing a tie and name tag shouldered some of the students aside.
“What’s going on here?” he said in a gruff voice.
“Are you the manager?” Erica said.
“Yes. Is the kid all right?”
“No, she’s about to go into shock.”
“Who are you?”
”I’m a doctor,” Erica said, not wanting to waste time explaining. “Go to the front of the store and make an announcement over the PA. Ask if there is anyone in the store who is allergic to bees and carries epinephrine…” Suddenly, Erica realized that was unnecessary. She remembered the sign on the front of the store that said “Pharmacy.”
“Forget that. Is the pharmacy open?”
“Sure,” the manager replied.
“Good. Go to there and ask the pharmacist for an adult epi kit.”
“A what?” the manager said, obviously confused.
“An kit of epinephrine for…” It was going to take too long to explain. The manager still had a bewildered look on his face, and if he brought back the wrong thing, it might be too late.
“Never mind,” Erica said. “Where’s the pharmacy?”
The manager pointed at the far end of the store.
“Maggie,” Erica said. “Don’t let Tory get up. Keep her still. I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to get some medicine.” She stood and faced the manager.
“Come with me,” she said and sprinted down the aisle toward the pharmacy.
Ten seconds later she skidded to a stop at the pharmacy counter. A man in his early thirties was sorting pills near the back. When she hit the counter, he looked up, startled.
“I need…an epi kit,” Erica said, gasping for breath more from the stress than the exertion.
For a moment, the man was taken aback. Then he said calmly, “And your name?”
“No,” Erica said. “This isn’t a prescription.” As she said it, the manager caught up with her at the counter, huffing like he could have a heart attack any minute. Judging from his weight, it was a distinct possibility.
His eyes on the manager, the pharmacist said, “Epinephrine is not an over-the-counter drug. I need a prescription…”
“Listen,” she said. “A girl on the other side of the store had a severe allergic reaction to that coffee cake the woman was serving by the registers. If she doesn’t get epinephrine in the next few minutes, she will die.” She glanced at the manager. “Do you understand?”
The manager’s eyes widened at the implications of a huge lawsuit. He looked at the pharmacist. “I saw the kid. Her face was swollen like a balloon. This woman is a doctor. Get her whatever she needs, right now.”
The pharmacist nodded. He hurried to the last shelf on the right and grabbed a box near the top. He gave it to Erica, who ripped open the package and withdrew a small syringe.
To the manager, she said, “I want you to go to the front of the store and wait for the paramedics so you can show them where we are.”
Without waiting for a response, she ran to Tory.
Erica approached the crowd and shoved two people aside. “Everybody back up!” she yelled. The dozen people surrounding her complied.
Erica kneeled next to the prone teenager. By now Tory was no longer moving, and her breath came in short, shallow hisses. Erica propped her head back to look down her throat. It was what she feared. In seconds, the throat would be completely constricted.
Maggie was now almost hysterical. “Erica, do something, please! She’s dying!”
“She’s not going to die,” Erica said as calmly as possible. She stuck the syringe’s needle into Tory’s left quadricep and pushed the plunger to its stop. The epinephrine would quickly flow from the thigh muscle into the femoral vein and then straight to the heart. She removed the needle and stuck it into one of the tomatoes lying on the floor.
The only thing Erica could do now was tilt Tory’s head back to clear the airway as much as possible. Cradling Tory’s neck with her left hand, Erica gently pushed her forehead back. She leaned down and put her ear next to Tory’s mouth. It was only the faintest of puffs, but she was still breathing. Erica hoped the epi had come soon enough.
Erica looked into Maggie’s tearful eyes. “She’s going to be all right,” she said confidently, even though she wasn’t sure. But the words had the desired effect. Maggie nodded and tried to smile.
Two minutes later, she heard sirens blaring and then the honk of a piercing air horn. They were silenced as an EMS unit squealed to a stop in front of the store. The paramedics would be in here any second. Then another siren grew louder. The police, Erica thought with alarm. When they got here, they would certainly want a statement from Erica, including her name. She had to leave.
The contents of her purse were still scattered across the floor. She hurriedly scooped them up and stuffed them back in her purse. As she finished, the crowd parted and two paramedics holding emergency boxes pushed their way through.
Erica got up and spoke to one of them while he opened the box on the floor. “Anaphylactic reaction. Severe throat constriction causing stridor. A dose of epi was administered via left quad.”
Before he could ask any questions, she ducked past the crowd. As she ran down the aisle, she could hear shouts behind her. “Hey! Who was that? Come back!”
At the cash registers, she slowed to a walk when she saw a policeman. He was talking to the store manager, who had his back to Erica. She held her face down to avoid being recognized. As inconspicuously as possible, she turned away as the policeman followed the manager toward the rear of the store. She continued walking with her purse clenched tightly to her stomach and made it through the store’s front door without being noticed. Outside, clusters of people were talking and pointing at the emergency vehicles. No one looked at her. Although she was almost hyperventilating, Erica ran.
CHAPTER 27
Kevin gnawed on a leftover piece of pepperoni pizza as he studied the figures on the computer screen in front of him. The graph of the spectroscopic analysis showed an impurity in the carbon of 0.01 %, primarily in the form of methane and other organic molecules. He wasn’t surprised that there was some impurity. Instead of requiring a pure vacuum, the process produced the greatest yield when performed in a vapor of hydrogen gas. Still, to the naked eye, or even under a high-powered loupe, no flaws in the material would be evident unless one had been introduced artificially. Just as the Adamas Blueprint said, the process produced clear, flawless diamond.
Kevin shook his head, still in a mild state of disbelief that it really worked. He walked over to the test chamber and stared through the door’s porthole. The specimen sat in the middle of the chamber, imperceptibly acquiring new coatings of diamond every time the laser’s light flashed, coatings that were fused to the previous layer with the strength of the world’s hardest known substance. Because of this fusion process, the layers were not detectable. It was a single crystal.