A man snarls at Jerry, "You gonna pay me for the hours I miss of work?" Susan quietly asks Gallant how the seniors on Large Marge's bus are doing. "Mostly sprains and contusions," Gallant replies. Susan is relieved. Jerry exposits that the public-health officials are en route, and meanwhile, the Chicago police are staked out at the exits. She then catches Luka wheeling The Largest Marge out for a head CT. "Does she have a blown pupil?" Susan asks. Luka shakes his head. "Then she can wait," Susan decides. Luka frets that Marge is an older trauma patient and needs immediate care, but Susan insists that if she's not addled, then Large Marge can wait with the other non-criticals. "Ma'am, do you know where you are?" Susan shouts. "A hospital," Marge O'Large retorts. "A crappy one." Susan shrugs, "I'd say she's pretty lucid." Luka looks confused. He's not sure why Carter got smallpox, Mark got the surf, and Elizabeth got the week off, while he's here carting Ye Olde Large Marge through the ER and getting ignored by everyone. Poor guy.
David Torres arrives. He is Chief Public Health Official in Charge of Season Finale Disasters, Cliffhangers, and Other Contrived Plot Devices. He hands Susan a walkie-talkie so that she can be in the loop with his staffers, all of whom are trained crisis-amplification officers who know exactly when things are going too smoothly and need to be messed up. On cue, one such person radios down that the second and first floors share ventilation systems, so Torres orders that they shut off the air conditioning. "It's eighty degrees outside!" protests Susan. Torres turns to her and intones dramatically, "Welcome to the Hot Zone." Okay, whoever wrote that should be fired. And flogged. And forced to watch this episode three times in a row. Torres scowls and announces that he needs to see the children now.
Carter explains to Robin that her daughter's infection is in the bloodstream, which makes the lungs leak fluid. Robin is busy being racked with guilt. "We shouldn't have been there," she curses. "You could've stayed home," argues Craig. "Yeah, great, and [then] your children don't see you for a year," snipes Robin. Craig bites back a snarky retort and instead tries to comfort her by pointing out that if there had been an outbreak in Africa, they'd have heard about it by now. Torres peers through the window to ogle the paper-towel pustules. Right now, you could spill a carton of orange juice on Bree's face and it would soak right up. Robin screeches that their family was a massive and very easy target. "Some maniac is using this as a weapon!" she wails. The ER Promo Guy has a long orgasm.