The Big Ten: The First Ten Books of the Beginnings Series

by Jacqueline Druga

  May 31st - 5:00 a.m.

  Interstate 95 - Connecticut

  “ ... at four forty-five a.m. Eastern Daylight Time, authorities began what they describe as a protective blockade of New York City. Military posts have been placed on all access roads in and out of the city ...” The newscaster spoke on the radio.

  The windshield wipers of the car added a rhythmic serene feel as Joe drove just a little faster than the speed limit on his way to Stamford. He had counted only three other cars he had passed but didn’t think much of it seeing how daylight hadn’t even broken.

  “ ... rumors ranging from a viral outbreak to a possible terrorist siege of the city are cited as reasons for the barricade. Thus far, no further information has been given.”

  Joe lit his cigarette with the car lighter. He tapped the lighter on the ashtray to rid it of the amber cigarette particles then replaced it. Mid returning his hand to the steering wheel, Joe turned off the radio. He had listened only briefly to the news, but he heard all he needed to. It was just what he expected, another confirmation of his fears.

  May 31st - 5:10 a.m.

  Rock Island Arsenal, Davenport, IL

  The sky had just hit that bluish-black phase of early morning when Frank tossed his duffle bag into the back of his pickup truck. He was readying to leave to go home. His leave was in full effect and in a few minutes time, Frank thought he would be out of there.

  Moving to the driver’s door, Frank heard the call of his name through the darkness. It echoed not only in sound but through him as well. He knew something was not right.

  “Sergeant Slagel.”

  Frank turned from the door to see Specialist Alder racing his way. “Damn it,” he whispered and turned to Alder.

  “Sergeant. Glad I caught you before you went AWOL.”

  “AWOL?” Frank had a hint of chuckle to his voice. “I’m not going AWOL, I’m on leave. Emergency leave. I’m heading home.”

  “Not anymore.” Alder handed Frank a clipboard. “Take a look. C.O. just left these for you. All requests for leave have been revoked. We’re now placed on standby for possible martial law. Our battalion is being deployed to Chicago. Looks like you’re in charge.”

  “Shit.” Frank cringed and rubbed his buzzed black hair.

  “Shall I start to get things ready for you?”

  With a huff Frank nodded and Alder ran off. Frank, disgusted, shook his head and angrily grabbed his duffle bag back out of the truck.

  May 31st - 6:15 a.m.

  County General Hospital - New York City, NY

  “And the best part is.” Catherine rattled off to Mel while stirring her coffee. “Get this.” She smiled. “I have to get congressional approval on what I’m going to say at the press conference. Congressional approval.” She shook her head, looked at Mel without seeing him and sipped her coffee. She winced in disgust at the strong bitter taste. “Anyhow. Vermont says we can detect early exposure of the virus. I’m going to start looking at our workers. Give us some hint as to the manpower we’ll have when things start getting bad.. No exposure. Possibility of immunity.” When Catherine looked up again, Mel slowly stood from the chair. “Mel?”

  “Don’t waste your test on me.”

  Crash! The coffee mug slipped from Catherine’s hand and fell to the counter. Steam rose from the spill. “Mel.”

  Off balance, Mel moved to the door, ignoring Catherine who made no attempt to follow him. She stood in the door frame watching Mel hold the wall for support as he walked away. When did it happen? When did he turn? Catherine had many conversations with him over the last twenty-some hours. Had she been that wrapped up that she failed to see it slip upon him? Or did the virus kick in so fast that no one, even the best in the field, could see it coming. Head lowered with a sunken heart, Catherine whispered a prayer of desperation. “Dear God. Please don’t let us have lost control. Please. Not yet.”

  May 31st - 6:30 a.m.

  Ashtonville, Connecticut

  There were two things that woke Kelly up from a sound sleep that morning. One was a sinus headache and two was the crinkling sound she heard coming from the basement. Painfully annoyed, she rubbed the eyes that felt as if they were going to explode and made her way to the kitchen and then to the basement.

  Opening the basement door she saw that the light was on. That for one told her it wasn’t a prowler. And if it was, he came bearing edible gifts. Thrown across the basement floor were plastic bags from a grocery store whose name Kelly didn’t recognize. She slowly made her way down; the cool outside air that flowed through the basement door hit against her exposed legs. The creak she made on the wooden steps alerted Joe to her presence. “Joe?”

  “Kelly,” he said surprised, dropping three bags and closing the door. “What are you doing up?”

  “I should be asking the questions. Why ... why are you grocery shopping at six-thirty in the morning? I just went to the store yesterday.”

  “I know. I wanted to get there early this morning Things needed to be bought.”

  “Things? You don’t like what I got you?” Kelly asked.

  “No. That is not it. Kel ...” Joe took a breath, dusted off his hands and walked to the steps. “We need to talk, you and I. Can we sit?” He motioned his hand to the stairs.

  “Sure.” Kelly sat down then Joe sat next to her.

  “Let me ask you a question. What has Frank told you about the contingency plan?”

  “The what?”

  “The Slagel Contingency plan.” Joe saw the tilted head, the clueless look on her face. “That’s what I thought.”

  “I don’t understand. What’s going on?”

  “Let me see if I can explain.” Joe grabbed her hand. “The plan is ... the plan. No. Let me try another way. I’m going to see if I can be tactful about this.” Joe took a moment, stared at his daughter-in-law and breathed out after a long pause of silence. “Ok, I can’t. Tact is out. Kelly ... the world is gonna end.”

  Kelly laughed. “You’re joking.” When Joe said nothing the smile fell from Kelly’s face and was replaced with more of a shocked look. Her eyes moved to the grocery bags then back to Joe. She slipped her hand from his. “Oh, my God. You’re not.”

  May 31st - 7:00 a.m.

  New York City Harbor

  Ashley Bennett slept soundly in the sleeping quarters of her boat. Her long, dark hair hid her face. Her legs sprawled out of the blue satin sheets. The room was filled with burnt candles and empty champagne glasses. Her wedding gown was flung over the bench at the side of the bunk. She slowly opened her eyes only to stare at her brand new wedding ring in a daze. Her head hurt; probably all that celebratory drinking. The odd sound of the engines startled her; they weren’t suppose to set sail until after noon. Had she slept that late? Ashley looked at the clock.

  “Ash, get dressed, come on.” Rick, her new husband, a burly, bearded man, rushed into the room.

  “Rick, what’s going on?”

  “Just get dressed, hurry!” Rick reached under the bunk and pulled out his rifle. He opened a drawer and retrieved his bullets.

  “Oh, my God, what’s wrong?”

  Rick loaded his rifle. “I’m getting us out of New York.”

  “Why, what’s wrong?” Ashley started to throw on a pair of pants.

  “I just heard on the radio, New York is quarantined, some sort of virus, and we’re booking.”

  “Rick, maybe we shouldn’t.” Ashley moved her hair from her eyes and pulled it into a ponytail. “Maybe we should just wait on the boat until it’s over. We’re away from people here.”

  “Ash, listen to me, the virus has to be big, or why else would they quarantine an entire city? No, besides the fact that we don’t want to get what’s going around, what if they can’t stop it? If we don’t get the virus we’ll be dead anyway. Because if they can’t stop it, they’ll cancel New York, trust me.”

  “My family, what about them? Your family….”

  “You’re my family.” With the rifle in o
ne hand and Ashley’s hand in the other, he tugged her up to the deck. Rick placed the rifle down, threw the boat into gear, and proceeded to drive the boat quickly.

  “Rick, slow down.”

  Rick paid no attention to Ashley or to the two Coast Guard boats ahead of them; he sped in between them.

  Within seconds a helicopter appeared over head. “Attention below, you are in a quarantined area, do not attempt to leave.”

  Rick kept driving.

  “We repeat, this is a quarantined area, if you do not turn your vessel around, we will stop you!”

  “Rick, stop the boat.”

  “They’re bluffing, Ashley.”

  “THIS IS YOUR LAST WARNING. STOP OR WE WILL SHOOT!”

  “Rick!”

  “They’re bluffing, Ashley.”

  The helicopter flew away.

  “I told you, Ash, they weren’t going to shoot at us.” Rick put his arm around her and smiled, but the smile quickly left his face when the sound of a jet overhead made him look up.

  The Air Force jet streamed by, and with one single missile, fired Rick and Ashley’s boat out of the water.

  May 31st - 7:20 a.m.

  Ashtonville, Connecticut

  The hot feel of his hand against her bare arm made Ellen immediately spring up from her snug position in bed. She cleared her hair from her eyes to see her son, Josh, standing there. “Josh, what is it?”

  “Mom.” His voice cracked. “I’m really sick.”

  Ellen swung her legs over the bed and stood up. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know.” His glossy eyes looked at her, his face was pale. “I’m just sick.”

  Ellen’s hands went to his face and then his neck. “Shit. You’re burning up. Let’s get you some Tylenol. Ok.” Josh nodded in agreement as Ellen, hand on Josh’s back, led him from her room to the bathroom. She filled the cup, handed it to him, then opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out a bottle of pills. “What hurts you? Head, stomach, what?”

  “Yeah.”

  “They all hurt?”

  “Yeah.”

  Ellen handed him the pills. She ran her hand through his hair in a motherly fashion as he took them and swallowed with almost a gag. “You ok?”

  Josh nodded weakly.

  “Let’s get you back to bed.” Arm on Josh, Ellen started walking him to his room. She stopped when she could hear the weakened sound of regurgitation coming from the guest room. She kept moving, taking Josh into his room and helping him into bed. She covered and kissed him. “I’ll check on you later.” Running her hand over his head, Ellen left the room. She paused by Taylor’s open door and giggled at the sight of her daughter. Covers off, legs spread, arms out. Shaking her head, Ellen stepped inside and pulled the covers up. She leaned down to Taylor and placed her lips to her forehead. Ellen’s heart dropped. “No.” She kissed Taylor again. “This is ridiculous. You’re warm too.”

  Upset that her family was all coming down with this flu Doc Breyer seemed none too concerned about, Ellen walked to her bedroom to give Doc Breyer a call. If nothing else, she wanted to bitch at him. She picked up the phone and placed the receiver to her ear. Her dialing finger stopped and Ellen pulled the receiver from her and stared at it oddly. Instead of the dial tone that should have greeted her, a busy signal was heard.

  She grabbed her cell phone.

  No signal.

  May 31st - 8:10 a.m.

  Fairfield University - Stamford, Connecticut

  It was a special two-room lab setup and Dean buzzed about it in his usual mad-scientist fashion. Crates were spread out, some unpacked, some still sealed. He would take something from a box, lay it on the counter then move to his computer, the first piece of equipment he got up and running.

  “Hey,” Henry called into the lab, carrying yet another box. “Some army guy just dropped this off.”

  “Over there.” Dean pointed, eyes fixed on the computer screen. He shook his head and stood straight, looking at Henry. “I appreciate all your help.”

  “Oh, no problem. I’m the helpful guy. That’s why they called me.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “I can help you even more if you’d like.” Henry followed him. “Oh!” He called out startling Dean. “I know. You should let me be your assistant, Captain Dean.”

  “Lieutenant.”

  “I can be a lieutenant. Sure.”

  “No.” Dean chuckled. “I’m a lieutenant. And yes, I would like to recruit you.”

  “Excellent.” Henry peeked in boxes. “This is too cool. I’m gonna be a great help. As long as I don’t get too dirty. Or grossed out. I gag easily, you know. I would have been a scientist had it not been for all the schooling. I hated school.” Henry watched Dean move about. “Maybe I can be a scientist of mechanical things. What do you think. Dr.... Henry.” He stated so proudly.

  “Molly.” Dean stopped moving.

  “Oh, no, Dr. Dean. I can’t be a Molly.” Henry snickered.

  “Molly.” Dean grinned and moved to the door.

  Molly stood there. “Ready for some help?”

  “God, they pulled you in too?” Dean asked, taking hold of her arm and bringing her further into the lab.

  “Dragged me right out of bed.”

  Dean smiled. “I’m glad you’re here. Henry.” He waited for Henry to look up. “This is Dr. Molly Walters. My lab assistant.”

  “Swell.” Henry shifted his eyes from Molly to Dean. “So like, does this mean I’m out?”

  May 31st - 8:42 a.m.

  County General Hospital - New York City, NY

  “Did you see the news?” Catherine asked as she placed a tourniquet on Andrea’s arm.

  “I’ve been avoiding listening and watching. Why?” Andrea asked.

  “They said rioting, bad too, is going on near the barricade.”

  Andrea shook her head. “Did they think it wouldn’t? Sweet Jesus, you lock two million people in a city with a deadly virus. They are not going to celebrate.”

  “Guess not.” Catherine inserted the tube.

  “Bet me the rioting causes more deaths than our virus today.”

  “You’re probably right,” Catherine spoke with exhaustion.

  Andrea watched Catherine pull the tube of blood from her arm. “Why are you doing this?”

  “You haven’t been exposed.” Catherine laid a cotton ball on Andrea’s arm. “I want to see if you’re immune.”

  “Well, I certainly hope I’m not.” Andrea rolled down her sleeve as she stood up.

  “Andrea?” Catherine called as Andrea began to leave. “Why? I don’t understand.”

  “Take a look at this floor. This hospital. My nurses. So fast and deadly. There is a wrath of death ravaging our world and I for one do not want to be around when it’s all said and done with. I don’t want to watch all things I love disappear. Do you?”

  Catherine hadn’t any idea what to say, how to respond. She stood speechless as Andrea left.

  May 31st - 9:00 a.m.

  Ashtonville, Connecticut

  Electricity. Filtered water. Food conservation. Sewage. Growth. Protection. Kelly flipped through the pages of the notebook she found on her kitchen table. Her head pounded with each plan, note, or idea written under every category handwritten there. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Why was she reading this? Her hand lifted and the notebook closed when she heard the clearing of a throat. She turned to see Joe standing in the kitchen.

  “Kel.” He stated her name, ran his finger over his top lip and returned to the table.

  Kelly watched him sit down, open the notebook and grab a pen. “Joe. There is something wrong with you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “That.” Kelly pointed to the notebook. “I looked through it.”

  “I’m just taking notes.” Joe lifted his glasses from the table and placed them on.

  “Notes on what to do when the world shuts down.”

  “It’s called planning ahead.”


  “It’s morbid,” Kelly argued. “This is so typical of you. All of you Slagels are morbid. All of you. You’re probably loving this. I think you’re overreacting.”

  Joe, having had enough of being calm, slammed the notebook shut. “Overreacting? How in Christ’s name can you say that? They shut down the entire borough of New York. Barricaded it. That is not overreacting, Kelly, that is reality. And the sooner you see that, the sooner you will stop moping around the house and get up the goddamn strength you are gonna need to face this.”

  Kelly heaved out an emotional breath. “There will be nothing to face. It will be over soon. You wait.” Not wanting to be witness to Joe’s plans for the apocalypse, Kelly angrily spun and stormed from the kitchen. She could feel herself getting hot, flushed, the skin of her face burning. Near tears and wanting to just calm down, Kelly flew into the hall powder room and slammed the door. She moved to the sink, turning it on full blast as she bent over, splashing her face frantically. Lifting her face, Kelly reached for a towel. Her hand shook out of control, a shaking that vibrated through her entire body, knotting her insides. Just as she grabbed the towel and slid it down her pale face, Kelly’s head ached more, her insides turned in a way she had never before felt, and she dropped to the floor by the commode, lifted the lid and violently vomited.

  May 31st - 9:00 a.m.

  George Washington Bridge, New York

  Automobiles, trucks, vans and many other vehicles lined up in a barrage to escape the city. Where they thought they were going was incomprehensible. They were told, once there, they were to abandon their vehicles and walk on foot back to where they came from. There was no turning back, there was no going forward. Some people even resorted to bringing food and camping out until the wait was over. These were the smart ones. The thousands of onlookers watched as many thought that they would be the one to cross and get away only to be arrested or shot.