Chapter 4

Shadows had formed under Logan's eyes. For days, he’d been running on a stress-management concoction of caffeine, alcohol, and cigarettes. The lack of business made it difficult for him to pay his electricity bill. The bastards even shut the town off from anyone entering or leaving. If this kept up, he’d be forced to sell.

So, he shut up shop, switched off all the lights and tried to escape his problems by drinking the night away. Although it worked well for the evening, the following morning left him incredibly nauseous. He always thought he could hold his liquor. But as he hunched over the toilet bowl and emptied his guts, he began to question whether he might have a slight problem.

As much as he wanted to drown out his sorrow, he decided to avoid drinking that evening. But the following morning, instead of being reinvigorated, his illness only grew. The day after that, it was even worse.

Eventually, Logan gave in to his pride and decided to see a doctor. He’d often avoided them like the plague because it meant a long trip. There weren’t any living in Claremont. Why would you set up a clinic here? You’d see a patient once every six months.

But after ‘Disco Night,’ as it was being colloquially called by the townsfolk, the government workers brought in a team of specialists to monitor the townsfolk. They even built a makeshift hospital clinic. How they managed to construct an entire building in just six weeks truly amazed him.

Logan entered the clinic, expecting it to be filled with only the medical team, and was surprised to see several local men clinging to plastic mop buckets. At least it was a good sign that it was likely a local bug and nothing more serious.

“Can we help you?” asked a woman with a doll-like face. Her skin was as shiny as porcelain, and her movements seemed almost robotic. Her white blouse, black skirt and glasses were textbook uniform for a corporate shill. How the government managed to convince a woman like her to come out to a shithole like Claremont was a mystery.

“I’d hope you can help, you are a medical clinic, aren’t you?” Logan joked anxiously; in truth, he hated seeing doctors.

The woman didn’t seem to find humour in his comments. Instead, she slowly lifted her finger, pointing to a ticketing machine.

“Please take a number. The doctor will be with you shortly.” She turned to leave. Logan reached out to stop her, but she managed to move her hand out of the way.

“Don’t you need my name?” Logan asked, reaching into his pocket to retrieve his ID.

Without turning her body, she rotated her head with uncanny precision. “We have your name already, Mr Logan Russell.”

Logan could feel his heart rate begin to pick up as she left.

How did she know his name?

He didn’t dare ask her.

Instead, he complied by pulling a numbered tab, as you would if you were waiting in line at the local butcher.

Number 6.

He took a seat in the waiting room and just sat in silence. After about thirty minutes, a stern-looking man in a lab coat emerged from one of the rooms.

“Mr Russell, if you would like to follow me.” He ushered towards the door he surfaced from.

Logan considered running, but it was too late now. He sucked up his nerves and followed the man into the room.

The man took a seat and picked up a clipboard. He glanced over at Logan.

“Interesting.”

He glanced back at the clipboard and began writing.

“I didn’t say anything yet.”

“No need for concern. I am just making some notes.” He finished writing and then glanced back at Logan. “I am Doctor Holloway. What seems to be the problem?”

“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be seeing a doctor.”

The man raised an eyebrow and set his clipboard down on the table beside him. He was clearly not amused by Logan’s humour.

“Mr Russell, I have several patients to tend to. If you are here to joke around, then you can leave.”

“Sorry Doc,” Logan apologised.

The doctor picked up his clipboard.

“Now then, why are you here?”

“Mate, I chundered like you wouldn’t believe,” Logan laughed nervously.

The doctor lowered his clipboard.

“You were throwing up?”

“Yeah, it was nasty. I’d advise against going into my bathroom anytime soon.”

“Interesting,” he replied, his mouth quivering slightly. “Mr Russell… I believe performing a scan would be the safest course of action in this situation.”

“Why, it’s just a bit of sickness. It’s already cleared up. I feel fine.”

“As I am sure you have seen, there have been a few cases of nausea going on in town. I have a theory, but it would be best to get confirmation.”

“Life-threatening?”

“It would be irresponsible for me to say any more until we have confirmation.”

He looked down at his notepad and didn’t say anything else.

“Umm, Doc… do you want me to go back outside or something?”

The door opened, and the receptionist from before entered.

“Mr Russell, if you would like to follow me, I will take you to your scan.”

Logan looked between the Doctor and the receptionist.

How did she know to enter?

The only way it was possible was if she was watching him. But if she was watching him here, where else was he being watched?

Logan side-glanced, hoping not to be obvious as he tried to locate the cameras. Alas, he was unable to find any. They must be well hidden.

He followed the woman down a long corridor. The lights grew progressively dimmer with each meter until he reached a door which was lit only by a red warning light. The light flickered off and the woman opened the door.

Inside, a faint yellow lightbulb hung from the ceiling in an otherwise dark room.

“Mr Russell, please lay on the bed.”

Logan considered his options and mustered up the courage to finally ask.

“How do you know my name?”

The man looked up for the first time since Logan entered the room. His eyes were wide.

“That’s not something you need to know.” He glanced around the room several times. “Anyway, please lie down on the table. We will be performing an ultrasound.”

“Before I do that, at least answer why you are doing all this.”

The man glanced at the woman, who adjusted her glasses and turned around to leave. The man lowered his head.

“I am terribly sorry, Mr Russell, I am not at liberty to tell you anything else.”

Although he was reluctant to follow any further instructions without answers, he knew it was futile to fight.

He complied by hopping on the table.

“Please lift up your top a bit.”

Logan thought about all the wisecracks he could make, but he was also worried about who else might, and probably was, listening in.

“Like this?” Logan asked, hoping this would appease the technician.

“That’s perfect. Now I’m going to apply some gel, it may be a little cold, so just be prepared for that.” The man rubbed the gel on his stomach, and Logan had to hold in laughter from how ticklish it was. “I’m now going to begin the scan, just keep lying there.”

The man moved the rod around, his eyes fixed on the screen. Occasionally, he would go over a point several times, making notes on a clipboard.

“How long is this going to take?”

“Sorry, it is like searching for a needle in a haystack, but it shouldn’t be much longer.”

Logan didn’t ask any more questions. He doubted he’d get any additional answers even if he did ask. Honestly, he wasn’t even expecting the man to answer that one. Eventually, the technician put down his clipboard and wiped off the gel.

“Alright, Mr Russell, we are done.”

“Lay it on me, doctor. What can you tell me?”

The technician bit his lip, and he glanced around the room several times. He opened his mouth but didn’t have time to respond before the door burst open, and the female receptionist entered.

“Mr Russell, the doctor has analysed your results. I can relay the information on his behalf,” she replied with a cold smile. Logan knew she must have been listening in the entire time. Just as she had during his medical appointment. Who was she? He decided not to mention anything and just play along.

“Well?”

She adjusted her glasses. Her cold expression never changed.

“Mr Russell, it is as the doctor feared. It appears that you are pregnant.”

Logan blinked several times.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“As the tests show, Mr Russell, you appear to be pregnant.”

Logan didn’t know whether he should laugh or cry. What he was hearing was utter quackery if he had ever heard it before. Logan turned to the technician in the corner of the room.

“Tell her she’s mistaken! There is absolutely no way that’s possible.”

He avoided looking at Logan.

“These are the facts, Mr Russell,” the receptionist replied with a mechanical coldness.

“Sorry, but there is something I need to break to you.”

“What is that?” she asked, her expression never changing.

“I dunno if you know this, but I’m a bloke.”

“Indeed, that is what is on your medical records. I am well aware of that detail.”

“Then you should be aware, it’s impossible. I simply can’t be pregnant.”

“But you are,” she replied, once again adjusting her glasses.

“I… Just… What?”

“You…” she pointed at Logan. “Are…” she pointed at Logan's stomach. “Pregnant.”

Logan didn’t have words. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Pregnant? How could that be possible?

“I know it is a lot to take in. I know that it is hard to get your head around. But you are one hundred per cent pregnant. Based on the size of the foetus and other information we have, I’d say you are six weeks along.”

“Six weeks? So that night?”

“The time you awoke,” she said, correcting him. She continued to spout words, but they didn’t reach Logan, for he was still trying to process the irreconcilable truth of the situation. He was somehow pregnant.

“What the hell am I meant to do?!” he snapped, reaching towards her, but she managed to move out of the way in a swift motion.

“We will need to make some calls.”

“I should imagine,” Logan let out a nervous chuckle. “Suppose you don’t get too many men pregnant.”

“You are not the first our clinic has seen, nor do we believe it is likely to be the last.”

“What do you mean?”

“I am not at liberty to release the medical records of any other patient of this clinic,” she replied with even more coldness. As if she was warning him not to pry any further.

“What does that mean?” Logan begged for answers.

“You’ll know soon.” She took a step forward. “Next Thursday, 6 pm, in the community centre. I strongly encourage you to attend.”

She didn’t clarify what this meant before leaving.

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End of Chapter 4