The Third Ten

by Jacqueline Druga

  Jason stood and followed Joe.

  The second the door closed, Dean said, “For some reason Joe does not see himself as intimidating.”

  Ellen fluttered her lips. “He’s a lot more intimidating than we are, that’s for sure.”

  “Guys.” Robbie stood up. “I have to say something. Seriously.” It was obvious, how out of sorts Robbie was. “We got a forewarning with little fact. But I don’t want that to stop us. We got a forewarning. I know Dad stood here and said he won’t live in fear, he won’t look over his shoulder and he won’t be watched. But, that’s what he says he won’t do. He doesn’t speak for me. There’s enough of us right now, in this room, that we can be scared for him. We can watch over his shoulder and we … can make sure he is watched twenty-four seven until we know it’s safe. And that safety factor comes in once this Great War is underway. Once that happens, we know we diverted it. So I say, I love my father with everything I am, I’d die to protect my father. Let’s work together, all of us, to make sure his safety is always in focus, and he is always watched. Who cares what he says or wants in this matter? He’s Joe. We can’t lose him. Who wants to go against his wishes with me? Be a team.”

  Frank stood up. He ruffled Robbie’s hair, and then grabbed Robbie’s hand, extending outward. “I’d die right along with you little brother to protect him.” Frank slapped his hand down.

  Hal rose. “My life on this one, as well.”

  Down went Jimmy’s hand. “Mine, too.”

  And like before, just earlier in the mobile lab, only with Henry. Danny, Dean, Ellen and Jimmy, a pact was made. The most important of all pacts … was made.

  ***

  It took some time. Bob was fast asleep when Joe and Jason arrived. He was still medicated, but after physically examining him, and looking the stranger over, they began to make enough noise in the room and that stirred him.

  Bob seemed friendly enough to Joe. A quiet guy, nervous, lost. He had no idea he was going to the past. At least not as far back as he did. Bob explained that he was certain he was going back but that this death squad was on a mission to hinder the LEP reduction process. There were several points in time where it was possible.

  Bob was a tracker like Fort. He didn’t know Fort. Then again, most men were in the service to their country in one way or another.

  Dean was right; Bob wasn’t up on his history. All he could tell them was the Great War took a lot of lives. After hearing that, Jason dampened any psychic information by telling Joe it all could have changed.

  Ellen was also right about one thing. She and Dean picked his brain. They did get all the information they could from him. After he was healed, Joe talked the young man into going into the region with Frank to look for the other three who came through. Maybe one of them could give some insight, or at least passed history.

  It was a long day that had come to an end. He guessed Frank and Robbie were a little mad at him for leaving them out of the Bob interview. They didn’t speak to Joe and walked a distance behind him, as if following him, home.

  But he knew his sons couldn’t be following him, they’d do a better job. They had to be mad. Joe shrugged it off, figuring they’d get over it.

  All he wanted to do was get home, to get away from all that happened and all that he learned. He could smell the aroma of Andrea’s cooking before he even opened the front door.

  Joe wanted a few things right there and then. He wanted to get in his house. Enjoy a good meal, be in the presence of the woman he loved and just forget about the day. Forget about all that happened, all that he learned, and get it out of his mind. And he knew home was the only place that could happen. It was a sanctuary and a knowledge free area.

  Opening the front door, Joe quickly learned the impossibility of that when Andrea pummeled him with a hard hug and a deep sob.

  “Andrea, Christ, what’s wrong?”

  She sniffled long, long and sluggishly. “Sweet Jesus, Joe. Sweet Jesus. Please, tell me you are not going to be murdered.”

  Joe turned around and walked right back out the door.

  CHAPTER SIX

  March 5th

  The novel, ‘Passion of Penelope Prose’ had a brilliant cover. A background of trees, and a red silk covering wrapped a maiden fair, with wind blowing through her dark wavy locks as she was held by an Adonis with a hairless chest and erect nipples. Lars always favored that cover out of all of them. Although that book in particular was not one of his top selling or best penned novels, the cover was one to remember.

  The woman that posed was a medical assistant in a free care clinic just outside of Cleveland. In a rare occurrence, Lars was doing a clinic tour for the World Health Organization, speaking about biohazards and their safe handling. The little medical assistant’s eyes caught his attention.

  He seldom let it be known that he wrote romance novels and penned them anonymously. They made him a lot of money, and were a great outlet. When he told the medical assistant about wanting her face on his cover, she knew exactly who he was, and was also a fan.

  The World Health Organization was the one thing that gave Lars credence, writing and Lodi gave him life.

  A top research virologist with WHO, Lars spent most of his time in Madagascar waiting and watching for new strains of the plague. He would have still been in Africa had the U.S. Government not flown him in ASAP to Georgia to work on the plague that was fast and furiously wiping out the world.

  He was in great company, and was even hopeful. It was the one time in his career where the thought of Dean Hayes didn’t give him the creeps. When Lars heard that Dean was working on the virus, he was certain a cure would be found.

  Eventually Dean did find the cure … years later. Years after the fact.

  After the world died, after he spent the last few days going town to town, helping the ill. Lars then packed a sack, grabbed a motorcycle and went north to his home, Lodi.

  He was happy and surprised that twelve people had survived. Through the passing years more and more people came to Lodi.

  But on this day, early morning, sun just starting to rise, some of these people left.

  They had their reasons, good reasons, and had Mike not opted for staying back, Lars would have gone too.

  The impending meteor was going to toss Lodi into a cold spell that would make food growth and survival nearly impossible. Added to the fact that the Society had plans to remove them naturally and by force, made the decision cut and dry.

  Lars understood why Mike wasn’t going, what he didn’t understand was how he could watch his son leave without somehow, at the last minute, going along too.

  “I want to make sure my kid survives. This is the best way,” Mike told Lars.

  “In a world where blood family is rare, how can you expect your son to live the rest of his life without his real father?”

  Mike informed Lars he had no intentions of dying, and would retreat if needed and head to Beginnings.

  But for the time being, he was staying put.

  Lars was there when 42 Lodi residents, were packed into a Greyhound bus with simple belongings and took off.

  The first thing Lars did, once the bus rolled away was place a call to Beginnings. He reached Robbie, surprisingly. They had a nice chat, talked about the weather, and how chicken pox had resurfaced in Beginnings. Then Lars told him the convoy was on its way. The Beginnings pilgrimage as it was being called.

  Three days was the projected arrival.

  Robbie said he would alert the men posted on the highway to keep a look out.

  “See ya soon, Lars.” Robbie said. “I hope.”

  But Lars had his own plan.

  The whole entire war with the Society was brewing and they would eventually come to blows on who would run the country.

  The good things was that the Society was run by George who led his people blindly as if they were sheep. If the sheep didn’t have their Shepard, then they would be lost.

  Lost sheep wouldn’t gather, nor wou
ld they fight, because Lars was certain the Society soldiers didn’t have a clue why they were fighting Beginnings.

  No George meant no war.

  Lars was joining the Society.

  That was his plan. Join the Society. Gain their trust. Kill George.

  No war. At least in Lars mind. Perhaps the martyr in him would be recognized as a hero. But he wasn’t doing it for hero status. He was doing it to end it all. Stop the madness. The world was new again, and it didn’t need the conflict.

  Live in peace. There were enough germs to battle without having to use guns.

  And that was when he placed the call.

  He connected to Bertha, and that didn’t surprise him. He requested to speak to George and after they hung up, within ten minutes George called back.

  “They have left for the pilgrimage.” Lars told George. “I would appreciate you getting the word out to your goons to not hurt them or hinder their trip.”

  “We’ve already been made aware.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Johnny’s part of it?” George asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Then I’ll make sure of it. How is he?”

  “He made a remarkable recovery. I’m not comfortable with this trip yet for him. I wished he was under medical supervision, but he’ll be in the Beginnings province in a few days.”

  “Prognosis?”

  “Good,” Lars said. “Very good. Listen … this meteor is about to strike. I stayed behind in case anyone needed medical attention.”

  “That’s good of you, stupid but good.”

  “I know you plan to take Lodi.”

  “We do.”

  “I would appreciate some protection for myself. I’d like to be here to help if there are injuries.”

  “Why should I protect you?” George asked.

  “Because I plan on joining you when this is all said and done. I believe you need a competent scientist that champions Dr. Dean Hayes.”

  Silence.

  “George?” Lars called his name.

  “Why are you not going to Beginnings?”

  “Three words. Dr. Dean Hayes.”

  “You hate him that much.”

  “I want no part, no connection, and I want nowhere near him. I’m neutral in all this. They do this. You do that. I only am looking for a place to further my research and work.”

  “Then you’ll have that with prestige with us Doctor. Welcome aboard.”

  “Thank you.”

  “May I make a suggestion?” George asked.

  “You may make one, whether I’ll listen to it, remains to be seen.”

  “I’d pack a bag ASAP. Pack a bag and get the hell out. You and Tigger. Have to admit, I love that kid.”

  “Why ... why would Tigger join me?”

  “Why wouldn’t he. I would think he’d want to be where his child is.”

  Slam!

  The phone nearly fell from Lars’ hand. “His child?”

  “Didn’t Manis tell you I called him? Callahan’s pregnant. Pregnant to Tigger.”

  Lars swallowed the lump. “We ... I ... didn’t know this. Tigger left.”

  “Did Tigger know this?”

  “I will say no he did not. But I can’t say with certainty, until I ask.”

  “Well, that tells you a lot about Manis. He lets his kid go to the other side of the country when he’s gonna be a father.”

  “It says a lot, and I need to speak with Manis.”

  “Again, good to know you’re joining us,” George said.

  “Good to be welcomed.” Lars ended the phone call. Was Callahan really pregnant? Did Mike know and tell Tigger? He had known Mike for years and before he took the word of George he was giving Mike the benefit of the doubt. After gathering his thoughts, he sought out Mike.

  Mike was clueless to the fact that Lars saw him. The living room curtains were parted enough that as Lars approached the house, he could see Mike in the living room. Arm draped on the mantel, standing there, head down.

  But the way he opened the door was completely different. Like the tough guy he acted, Mike opened the door totally composed.

  “Lars, what’s up?” Mike asked and opened the door wider an invite for Lars to walk in.

  Lars entered the house. “I was hoping to catch you before you scooted away at the departure.”

  “I had things to do.”

  “Like sulk at the mantel.”

  Mike closed the door. “What is it?”

  “Did you speak to your son before he left?”

  “Of course I did.” Mike turned and walked toward the living room.

  “Did you tell him how much you would be saddened by his leaving?”

  “And I told him that I thought it was the best move.”

  “You instructed him to be safe?” Lars asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You realize they have no means of communication.”

  “I know,” Mike said.

  “Did you give him the route?”

  “Of course.”

  “Did you also tell him he was going to be a father?”

  Mike was placing a cigarette in his mouth when Lars said that. He paused. Lit it. Exhaled and said, “What are you talking about?”

  From his pocket Lars lifted the phone. “Community property you deemed this. I used it. I called George for a few things, one of which was to ensure Tigger, Johnny and crew had safe passage and none of the numbnuts of the Society would hit them. I also told him I was joining the Society.”

  “You what?”

  “You know this, Mike. I told you. I’m joining the Society to kill George.”

  “I didn’t think you were serious.”

  “And I would make such a statement for what?” Lars asked. “You are evading my question. Did you tell Tigger that he was going to be a father? George informed me he called you.”

  “Yes, Hadley called me.”

  “And?”

  “I didn’t tell Tigger.” Mike walked away.

  “May I ask you why?”

  "What if it’s not true?”

  Lars laughed. “Mike, please. It’s too bizarre of a thing not to be true. Why?”

  After an exhale, Mike scratched his head. “I know my son.”

  “And knowing Tigger he would have gone to the Society to get his woman, or at least his kid.”

  “Yes.” Mike nodded. “And leaving Lodi, going to Beginnings is the best chance my kid has. I don’t want him part of the Society. I want him safe.”

  “But was that your call?” Lars asked. “Was it your call to make? No.”

  “Yes.”

  “No, Mike, it wasn’t.”

  “He’s my son.”

  “Who is going to have a child of his own in this godforsaken world? He had every right to know.”

  “Yes, he did. And I will tell him.” Mike said.

  “Really? When?”

  “When he gets to Beginnings.”

  “So you are going to wait until he is four thousand miles from her?”

  “If that’s what it takes.”

  “To what?”

  “Why are you yelling at me?”

  “Because this was a bad decision Mike.” Lars stated. “Bad. There’s already distance between the two of you, were you planning on driving a wedge there as well?”

  “It’s too late now. He has to wait to find out.”

  Lars turned and walked to the door.

  “Leaving already?” Mike asked.

  “No, leaving quickly. I have to.” He opened the door.

  “Why?”

  “They’ve only been gone an hour, I know the route. I’m sure I can catch them before they get too far from town.”

  “You aren’t going after them are you?”

  “No, Mike, I’m going after Tigger. If he chooses to go to Beginnings anyhow, allow that to be his decision, not yours.” Lars stepped out.

  The door closed and Mike stood there. After a brief stare at the door, Mike grabbe
d his leather jacket and left as well.

  ***

  A routine of Joe’s was always to get to his office, preferably before the rest of the community started their day. Monday mornings were the worst, as still, in Beginnings tradition, people didn’t work on Sundays.

  He carried his coffee without spilling a drop, stepped into his office and sat behind his desk.

  A stack of requisitions needed reviewed, he had to schedule a meeting with Hector about projectiles and rations for the winter, along with the men needed to erect the new greenhouses.

  Aside from all the future stuff, Joe had not one but several communities to run, feed and make work. That took top priority. He was confident his sons would handle the rest.

  Eyes barely skimming the first requisition, there was a knock at the door.

  “Yeah.” Joe called out and returned to the recs.

  He heard the door open, then the sniffle.

  He lowered his glasses and raised his eye to Jenny. “You sick?”

  Jenny closed the door and then sobbed. “Joe.”

  “Christ.” Joe rubbed his eyes. “What?”

  “There’s a terrible, terrible rumor, Joe.”

  “What is it?”

  “We heard that the invisible killer was telling everyone he was from the future and that not only does Beginnings get destroyed next week, but you die.”

  “Christ.”

  “Joe …”

  “Jenny. Sit.”

  “Thank you, Joe.” Jenny pulled up a chair.

  “You are a very level headed woman. You can really get the word out around here, so I have a favor.”

  “What’s that, Joe? Anything.”

  Folded hands, Joe leaned into his desk. “These are rumors, Jenny. The so called invisible killer … he’s not invisible. He was hiding when Frank shot him. Just a survivor.”

  “Are you sure.”

  “Positive.” Joe winked. “The rumor started when Dean was telling Ellen about a dream and everyone over heard.”

  Jenny sighed out. “Really?”

  “Really.” Joe replied. “So could you do me a favor and pass that info around, please?”