Plague Saint [REMOVING FOR PUBLICATION JUNE 1]

Chapter Fourteen: As White as Snow

River took a turn for the worse.

Winter stared at him Tuesday morning, his patient file in hand, half-listening to the nurse explain that he was coughing up blood again and his skin was deathly pale and sometimes he seemed to be hallucinating—

"You followed the treatment schedule perfectly?" Winter finally cut her off, unable to listen any longer.

"Of course!" the nurse exclaimed. She frowned. "You know this happens sometimes. We saw this just last week with that woman—"

"You're right. My apologies." Winter sucked in a deep breath. River was going down the same path as those other unusual red plague patients.

No. He was going to recover. He had to. "Keep his Red-X dose the same, but double that new medicine I added." Winter handed the file to the nurse. "I'm going to check on my other patients."

She tried to focus as she finished her rounds, but it was difficult to care about anyone besides River. Her mind ran through the other red plague patients who had seemed to be getting better before dying. She'd assumed before that the Plague Saint had killed them, but maybe there was more to it.

Winter entered her office. Phoebe had mentioned rumors of a new plague, and Winter had dismissed the idea. But Phoebe had said Marcus had told her about it and—

That meant the Plague Saint believed there was a white plague.

Winter slammed her staff down on her desk. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Phoebe jump.

"Plague Saint?" Phoebe asked cautiously. "Is something—wrong?"

"What all have you heard about white plague?"

"Uh, just rumors," Phoebe said. "I would think you'd know more than me."

"Didn't you say your uncle thought it might exist?"

Phoebe frowned. "When did I tell you that?"

Damn it. She hadn't told the Plague Saint, she'd told Winter. "I—don't remember. Sometime last week? I don't know." Oh god, had Phoebe even said anything about her uncle to the Plague Saint? "Maybe Winter mentioned it to me. She was concerned about her brother and asking me if I thought the white plague existed."

There. That was reasonable, right?

Phoebe's expression didn't reveal whether or not she believed Winter. Still, she nodded. "Uh, well, he didn't tell me much about it. He only said it was basically a worse version of red plague. Much worse."

Well, that might explain why white plague hadn't been identified at first, but surely someone would have realized it was separate from red by now, right? Had it only developed recently?

That wasn't important right now. And, as anxious as she had been all day, neither was the fact that she hadn't heard anything about Gordon yet. What Winter really needed to know was whether the Plague Saint had developed any sort of treatment for white plague. She'd been through all of the notes he left in his office and lab, and there was no mention of it. And if it was in the decoded journal, well, she was screwed.

Or maybe not. There was one perk to the Plague Saint being Marcus, and Marcus being alive. Now that Winter knew his identity, she had new places to look for information. Those journals in his nightstand, for a start, although that would involve breaking into Phoebe's house. Phoebe was here now, and Winter had learned at dinner that both parents worked. But what did Marcus do all day?

Winter could consider a breaking-and-entering plan later. Her first stop would still be Marcus' lab.

Phoebe was still looking at her. Winter straightened up. "I'm leaving to get lunch. I'll be back in about an hour."