Chapter 647: Chapter 647: Internal Heat

It had been a long time since Evelyn Ford last cooked, but her fundamentals were still solid. Making a few dishes was no challenge for her.

After Zoe and Annie woke up, Wendy emerged from the lab. Once they’d had breakfast, the others relaxed in the living room, drinking tea and chatting, while Evelyn Ford went to the fishpond. She retrieved two live fish and netted five pounds of large prawns.

Since Evelyn Ford was cooking, Ronan Kendrick came to help her out. The two of them bustled about in the kitchen for two hours before lunch was finally ready.

Ryan Rowe had already returned to the Second Area to handle his work, but Rhys Chase was taking it easy. He seemed to have forgotten he was the base commander, even following Taylor Vance and Zion Lowell in the morning to learn Tai Chi and starting to read books on healthy living. When he found out Evelyn Ford had a ginseng plant, he begged for one of the stems to steep in water. Less than half an hour after drinking the ginseng-infused water, his nose started bleeding.

While everyone ate lunch, Rhys Chase sat alone in a corner, clutching a pot of cooling herbal tea. To quickly bring down his body’s internal heat, he could only drink the bitter, astringent brew, watching everyone else eat with longing eyes.

"Mr. Chase, Evelyn Ford made two dishes especially for you. Are you really not going to eat them?"

Rhys Chase’s brow furrowed. The foods he dreaded most were fish mint and bitter melon. Staring at the two dishes before him, he silently shook his head.

"If you’re not eating, then I won’t hold back. Stir-fried bitter melon and cold-dressed fish mint... these are great for cooling you down! You won’t get any more nosebleeds if you eat them."

At the mention of his nosebleed, Rhys Chase’s expression changed, and he grew visibly embarrassed.

’Ginseng really isn’t something to take lightly. It can create problems where there were none.’

"Ronan Kendrick, save me! I feel like my whole body is on fire, I’m getting dizzy, and my nose is starting to itch. I think it’s going to bleed again."

Ronan Kendrick raised an eyebrow. "I can’t save you. Just be a good boy and eat your bitter melon."

’Rhys Chase is already overheated,’ Ronan thought. ’If he drank my blood now, he’d probably be out cold for ten to fifteen days.’

Seeing Quincy about to take the bitter melon and fish mint away, Rhys Chase shot out a long arm and snatched the dishes back.

"Here goes nothing."

Quincy snickered to himself. He didn’t actually like bitter melon or fish mint either; he had just been trying to provoke Rhys. He hadn’t expected it to work so well.

After lunch, Evelyn Ford left her pocket dimension. Even though it was supposed to be a day off, she still needed to check on the maternity medical tent. Some of the women could go into labor early.

Evelyn Ford had installed a doorbell on the outside of her vehicle. Whenever it was pressed, an alarm would sound inside, which she could hear even from within her dimension.

Carrying her medical kit to the tent entrance, she was met with the rising and falling cries of babies. Some new mothers were cooing softly to their infants, while others, short on patience, cursed under their breath as they held their children. Evelyn Ford put on a face mask before lifting the flap and stepping inside. Even through the mask, she could smell a mixture of foul odors. She had told them many times to roll up the tent flaps for ventilation, but a few of the pregnant women were afraid of the cold, and the new mothers observing their postpartum confinement were afraid of drafts. As soon as she left, they always lowered the flaps again.

Seeing Dr. Ford enter, a heavily pregnant Iris Miller walked over and gave her a concise summary of the past two days’ events.

"You’re almost eight months along now. You should stop worrying about these things and focus on your health."

Iris Miller thought Dr. Ford was relieving her of her duties. Her face went pale, and she was on the verge of tears.

"Don’t misunderstand," Evelyn said. "I just want you to rest and take care of yourself for the next two months. Once you’re through your postpartum confinement, the job will be yours again."

"Dr. Ford, I don’t need to rest. I feel great! Lying on a wooden plank just makes my whole body ache. Having something to do actually puts my mind at ease. Besides, I heard you say that moderate activity is good for the baby and makes for an easier delivery. Also... I want to earn some food vouchers."

She had a point. Iris Miller did seem robust, and her complexion was much ruddier than the other women’s.

"Alright. But if you feel any discomfort, come find me immediately."

As they were speaking, Dr. Turner arrived. He greeted Dr. Ford, then frowned at the trash on the ground.

"Dr. Ford, do you have a moment? There’s something I need to discuss with you."

Evelyn nodded. Since no one in the tent was in labor, they walked to an empty space nearby. Dr. Turner took off his mask, but a sudden gust of wind kicked up a cloud of yellow dust, forcing him to quickly turn his back and put it back on.

Only when the dust had settled did Dr. Turner begin to speak.

"Dr. Ford, I’ve delivered several babies recently and performed physical exams on the mothers. I’ve discovered that nearly all of them have some form of gynecological disease. One of the new mothers has red spots and rashes on her body... I believe it’s syphilis."

"I asked her which shelter she came from. She said it was the resettlement housing near The Third Base. As far as I know, there are three hundred thousand refugees near The Third Base’s city of Lyra. The base has more or less abandoned them. Many women are bullied and oppressed with no one to turn to for justice. Some women in the refugee camp are treated as prostitutes. This new mother also has many scars on her body; her story is just as I suspected."

Dr. Turner paused, then continued, "I know you have access to the base commander, Dr. Ford. Can you ask him to have the base help these women, especially the ones who are ill?"

He sighed. "People with this disease, men or women, need to be quarantined. It’s contagious. I’ve already forbidden her from breastfeeding her baby."

Evelyn’s expression grew serious. "Don’t worry, Dr. Turner. I will be sure to inform the base commander about this matter."

"That poor child," Dr. Turner said, shaking his head. He picked up his medical kit and walked away.

Back in her vehicle, Evelyn quickly slipped into her pocket dimension. Taylor Vance was still in the living room drinking tea, while the others were watching TV and chatting.

Evelyn walked over and told Rhys Chase what she had just learned.

"There are so many people at the base now, it’s a real mixed bag. We have all sorts of individuals. Who knows if they were bandits, murderers, or even rapists before this? We all know how chaotic the refugee camps are. The first time Ronan Kendrick and I went to the refugee camp in Flumen, we saw several girls get dragged away with our own eyes."

Evelyn pressed the bridge of her nose. "A disease like this can probably be cured in the early stages. But in the mid-to-late stages, it’s a death sentence."

Rhys Chase also understood the gravity of the situation. Years ago, there were news stories about things like this—people with AIDS drawing their own blood to inject into others, or putting it in someone’s water cup, infecting innocent people as a form of revenge against society.

After so many years of the apocalypse, ninety percent of people have psychological issues to some degree. If someone wanted to cause that kind of trouble, it would be frighteningly easy.

Rhys Chase was silent for a moment before speaking in a calm, measured tone. "First, we deal with those who are sick. We’ll put them in a designated area. If they can’t be cured, we’ll build a facility for them out on the plains or in the desert, send them there, and keep them in isolation. Right now, all the residents are in tents. I’ll have the team leaders and soldiers conduct health screenings. Anyone showing symptoms will undergo further blood testing."

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