Torchwood: Exodus Code

dumping site and from there on to the city waste yard.
    Local schools had been closed for the rest of the week. There had been injuries, but no deaths, and most of the community was embracing the hard work ahead of them with a sense of humour and grace.
    Most of them, that is, except Andy Davidson, who was trying to weave his police car in and out of the tides of people flowing up and down the ravaged Swansea streets. When Andy eventually pulled up outside the Coopers’ house, he was jittery and on edge and not looking forward to sharing his news.
    ‘Hey,’ he called to Jack and Rhys. The two of them were busy doing makeshift repairs to the fence. Jack was holding a plank in place while Rhys hammered it with his good arm. They glanced up as Andy approached. Jack noticed the blanched look on Andy’s face, and made a quick attempt to get Mary out of the way.
    ‘I could use a cup of that coffee, Mary,’ he said.
    Gwen’s mother remained immune to his charm. ‘Well, Mister Captain Jack Harkness, you know where the pot is, because if this is about Gwen I’m hearing it same as you both.’ She folded her arms, pursed her lips and waited.
    Andy looked from Jack to Rhys and then to Mary. He could hear Bonnie in his head: ‘Look them in the eye and serve them the news. How they take it isn’t up to you to control.’
    ‘Gwen’s gone,’ Andy blurted out.
    ‘What?’ said Rhys.
    ‘Gone where?’ said Mary, not quite grasping what she was hearing.
    ‘What happened?’ said Jack, grabbing the hammer from Rhys before he put it through a window or Andy.
    ‘It’s standard procedure when the emergency alert system goes off that all restrained patients have their restraints loosened – you know, in case they need to escape to a safe environment.’
    ‘So they just let her walk out of the bloody ward?’ asked Rhys.
    ‘Let him finish, Rhys,’ said Jack.
    ‘All the women in that ward were sedated when their restraints were removed. The doctor checked. The guards were changing shifts. They assumed because the women were asleep that they didn’t have to watch them so carefully. They claim they turned away for only a few minutes, when they checked the ward, the nurse was knocked out and Gwen was gone. The guard says it looked like she had pulled out her IV and must have been faking that she was getting her sedation .’
    ‘Did you check the CCTV footage?’ asked Jack.
    ‘We tracked her to the car park, and then nothing. She must have left during the tremors,’ said Andy. ‘I’ve got everyone on the lookout. We’ll find her.’
    Jack and Rhys knew Gwen better than anyone in the world. In unison they said, ‘I doubt it.’
    Mary whirled round to face Jack. ‘I wish she’d never bloody met you!’ she yelled.
    She dashed inside the house, leaving Jack staring down at Anwen bumping his leg with her plastic trike.

38
    THE MEDIA CLAMOUR had been growing for almost a week. By the time Dr Trimba Ormond of King’s College, London called an official WHO press conference about the increasingly frequent cases of female ‘insanity’, it was already too late.
    A few physicians and a smattering of politicians and diplomats representing various global health institutes and NGOs gathered at the WHO’s London headquarters. They were talking anxiously among themselves, and generally avoiding any acknowledgement that they might once again be facing a global crisis. A few journalists were there, too, but most had decamped to South Wales in search of super geysers.
    Two floors above the lecture hall, Dr Ormond sat in her bright but cramped office behind an overflowing desk, touching up her make-up while she finished a call.
    ‘I suppose the good thing is that there has been a learning curve of sorts,’ she said, powdering her thin nose. ‘We are certainly much better equipped to share resources and information among each other than we were a year ago.’
    ‘That may be the case,’ said the Health Secretary on the other end of the line. ‘These women might simply be experiencing a reaction to something they’ve come into contact with, or even some medication they’ve all shared. And, to be perfectly clear, I’m not dismissing the notion that this is simply mass hysteria among like-minded women. Let’s be honest, Dr Ormond, we’re not talking about a real health crisis, are we?’
    Dr Ormond smarted at the minister’s remark and angrily snapped her powder case closed. As far as she was concerned, too many of her