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

by Jacqueline Druga

  Thelma gasped. “Who’d you see vomiting yesterday?”

  “Ev-body that died.” Dirk nodded.

  “Oh ya did not.” Thelma quipped. “Ya hid like an old fool through the whole plague. Ev-body said, ‘Where’s that ol Dirk Jefferson? Ain’t he gonna help?’ I had to tell em you died too.”

  Frank peered up from his marathon eating. He smiled at the three that had seemingly known each other forever. Their arguing started again, but it didn’t bother Frank. His head hurt less, he was eating, he felt better and he actually liked the trio.

  Ashtonville, Connecticut

  “Careful, Ellen, you’ll drop her.” Dean hollered as they made their way down a narrow stairwell with the body of a woman.

  “So what Dean, she’s dead.” Ellen clumsily fumbled. The protective gear she wore was much too big.

  “Have a little respect.”

  “Please.” Ellen sighed in relief as they reached the outside. “Come on, a little more to the truck.”

  “Stop moving so fast. I’m losing my grip on her head; she must weigh two hundred pounds.”

  “One-eighty-six, to be exact.” Ellen stopped at the small pick-up truck she and Dean had. “Ready? One, two, three.”

  They swung the woman’s body towards the back end of the truck. Dean’s half barely made it to the open gate, while Ellen’s half of the body flopped to the ground.

  “Shit.” Dean grabbed the legs. “Help me.”

  Ellen helped him lift the rest of the woman’s body into the back of the truck

  “How did you know her weight?”

  Ellen walked away from the truck and removed her mask. “Mrs. Winefield, she was a patient, always whining about her bill. God, I hated her.”

  “Was there anyone you liked in this town?” Dean removed his mask and looked up to the sky quickly.

  “What is it?’

  “Shh, listen.”

  “What?” Ellen looked up.

  “Sounds like a helicopter.” Dean scanned the sky. “Look, there it is.”

  They had no exact location of where the life signal came from, so George had to rely on John with binoculars to visually see the people moving about. At first they thought it would be difficult, seeing how the life signal wasn’t that strong. There had to be at least ten people in a one-mile area. And how bleak that seemed, considering how many people use to live in the United States of America.

  Ten people would have been hard to spot. They may have flown over Ashtonville several times had it not been for the smoke signal. Before they even arrived they saw the smoke rising to them, signifying to them that, in a dead world, someone had to be alive to be burning those bodies.

  “There.” John lowered his binoculars as they flew over the small town.

  George tilted the helicopter then leaned his body to view. “Looks like they’re cleaning up. I’ll find a place to land.” Straightening up the bird, George veered right.

  Joe had taken the dump truck containing tents and cots and drove to where it looked like the chopper was lowering. Just before the main street of town right where the four-lane highway turned to two is where they started to land. They actually arrived nearer to Ellen’s street. He thought he saw the insignia on the chopper door as the bird lowered to the ground, and as soon as Joe stepped from the truck and the helicopter set down on the ground, Joe knew. “I’ll be goddamned.”

  Waiting for the engines to stop, Joe slowly made his way to the helicopter as the two men emerged.

  “Hello!” George waved.

  Joe approached him. “Joe Slagel.” He extended his hand.

  George removed his sun glasses, and shook Joe’s hand. “George Hadley, nice to meet you. This is my friend, John Matoose.”

  Joe shook John’s hand but never took his eyes off of George. “You’re ...”

  “Please.” George cut him off. “We just wanted to join a group of survivors. We’re willing to help out and do whatever you folks are doing. Whatever skills John and I have are at your service. We just want to blend in. Just think of us as two people who happened upon you.”

  “Two people who made one helluva entrance.” Joe was stunned.

  George grabbed his bag and briefcase which John had set down next to him. “We noticed from the air that you people are cleaning up. If you let us know where we can put our stuff, we’ll be happy to help out.”

  Joe began to walk with George and John. “We can take it to my daughter’s house for now, I’m sure everyone’s gonna want to meet you. Might as well get that out of the way.”

  George adjusted his bag. “No problem, just show us where we go.”

  Joe led them to a yard. “We’re actually over on this street here.”

  As they made their way onto Elks Drive, they stopped when Ellen and Dean screeched up in the red pickup truck.

  “Joe.” Ellen jumped from the truck, and Dean ran behind her. “We saw a helicopter.” Out of breath she stopped when she saw George and John. “I guess they landed.”

  “Ellen, Dean, this is George and John.” Joe introduced them.

  Ellen shook their hands. “Nice of you to join us, are you staying on?”

  “Yes, we are.” George answered.

  Dean extended his hand to them. “Dean Hayes. You know, George, you look awfully familiar. Have we ever met?” With his free hand Dean waved his index finger back and forth.

  George shook his head no.

  Joe looked over Dean’s shoulder to the truck that sat parked in the middle of the street. “Jesus Christ, did you two bring bodies on this street? You know that there are kids here. Get that out of here, now.”

  “Sorry.” Dean backed up slowly. “We’re moving.”

  “Come right back.” Joe instructed. “I’m sure everyone is anxious to meet these gentlemen so we’re getting it out of the way.”

  “Got it.” Ellen gave a thumbs-up. “Nice to meet you, George and John, see you in a few.” She walked slowly with Dean. “You know, Dean, there is something really familiar about that George guy.”

  “Maybe he’s famous.”

  “I know. He looks like the President.”

  “No he doesn’t.” Dean reached the truck.

  Joe heard this as he walked by the pair, he shook his head, whispered ‘idiots’, and took the lead to Ellen’s house.

  “I told you he was the President,” Ellen whispered to Dean in her dining room where everyone gathered.

  “No,” Dean corrected. “You said he looked like him, you didn’t say he was.” Dean caught a glimpse of the disgruntled look Joe gave them as he passed. He turned to Ellen. “What was that look for that Joe just gave us?”

  “Oh,” Ellen said nonchalantly. “That’s the look he gives when he wants to call us a name.”

  “Really? Why would he want to call us names?”

  Ellen only shrugged.

  “Thank you.” George smiled as he looked up at Andrea when she poured another cup of coffee for him. He peered at everyone that had gathered in Ellen’s dining room, waiting and anxious to talk to him. He sipped his coffee and set down the cup. “And the air-safe room worked for just John and myself.”

  Dean shook his head. “No. You’re immune. If you weren’t, the virus would have hit you like a bomb the second you breathed in the air. Ask Henry. We saw this baby born at the aid station, and the second the baby took a breath he died instant ...”

  William cleared his throat. “Dean.”

  “Sorry.” Dean stopped talking.

  It really didn’t matter to Joe why George survived; he had another question on his mind. “So why did you drop in on us?”

  “Looking for life.” George answered. “We tracked the strongest signal we got. That’s you folks. We saw you cleaning up and we’d be more than happy to lend a hand.”

  “We can use the hands.” Joe said. “We’re working on this street first because this is where everyone ended up. Plus we’d like to not have to sleep on my daughter’s floor anymore.” He looked at his watch
. “And we don’t want to waste daylight hours. We can all talk later.”

  “I’ve no problem with that.” George finished off his coffee and stood up.

  Ellen forged her way forward with a smile on her face. “I just wanted to let you know, it’s a great honor to have you here.” She extended her hand to him. “I voted for you both times.”

  Henry’s “I didn’t” caused everyone to swing their eyes his way. Henry shrugged. “What? I’m a citizen. I voted.”

  Joe only grunted. “Let’s just finish our work.” He looked cross at Henry. “Then we can all talk to or insult President Hadley later.”

  Henry was somewhat baffled as everyone filed out of the dining room one by one giving him glares he felt he didn’t deserve. “I didn’t vote for him.” He tossed his hands up after Dean, the final one out, gave him a final look. Henry stood alone. And then Henry shrugged it off and followed the pack out.

  Dairy, Ohio

  Frank swore he would always remember the town of Dairy, nor would he forget the three people that helped him get together what he needed to try to make it home. A motorcycle, food, and most of all, rest to make the trip. Hating to leave them behind and vowing to return, Frank lifted his hand high to Dirk, Stan and Thelma as he rode onward from that deserted street and headed home.

  Harmer, Connecticut

  “Now why exactly are we scavenging these?” John Matoose asked as he and Henry together lugged a small generator to the truck. They had it parked on the walk in front of a Sears Roebuck Store.

  “Joe said we’ll need them.” Henry carefully helped John lift it into the back of the pickup. There were at least twelve in there already.

  “So why is he making us get them?”

  “Joe’s a tyrant like that.” Henry said and wiped his hands off on the side of his pants. “He’ll get along good with your President buddy.”

  “Joe did seem kind of gruff.”

  “Very,” Henry stated. “But I bet he has a plan. He has a plan about these generators. He said we’ll need power soon.” He shrugged. “I’m gonna go along with him. I mean, what else do I have to do.”

  “True.” John looked into the back of the truck. “Well, that was the last generator from here. Do we need anything else before we move on?”

  “Gas cans.” Henry stated.

  “I saw some inside.” John pointed.

  “Actually I was thinking we’d pick those up at K-Mart.”

  “Why?” John asked as he moved toward Sears.

  “They’re cheaper there.” Henry saw John didn’t really appreciate his humor. Snickering first as John headed back to Sears, Henry then followed.

  Ashtonville, Connecticut

  Never one to notice what didn’t directly affect him, Dean didn’t notice what Andrea, Maggie, and Jenny were doing in Ellen’s kitchen. He merely walked in the back door, smiled a polite hello to the three women and proceeded to get of glass of water. It was when he filled the glass up to take outside with him that he saw the oddness of the situation. On the table before them and on the floor surrounding them were piles and stacks of frozen meat. Dean had to laugh. “What did you guys do? Raid every refrigerator in town.”

  “Almost.” Andrea answered never noticing Dean’s sarcasm. “Joe told us to. He’s hooking up a couple extra freezers to the generators and we’re storing it so we can have meat.” She looked at her female companions as she tossed a package of ground chuck into the ground meat pile. “Joe says it won’t be long before the power is gone.”

  The corner of Dean’s mouth rose. “Now, really, how does Joe know?” He only received shrugs from the three women, and deciding to take the front way out, Dean left the kitchen with his glass of water.

  He had every intention of walking straight down the hall through the foyer and out the front door. He even passed the living room intending on doing so. But he saw Ellen in there, alone, and Dean stopped walking.

  Setting down his water on an end table as he entered the living room, Dean kept his eyes on Ellen. She stood before the fireplace, her back to him. Her hands were folded on the mantel, and her chin rested on them as she stared at the long line of photographs there. Quietly and hoping he wasn’t an unwanted intrusion, Dean stood next to her. He spoke softly. “Hey. Is that your son?” He got a sad nod from Ellen as she kept staring at the photograph he pointed to. “This ...” Dean moved his point to another picture, one of a man. “That has to be Josh’s dad. They look alike.”

  “No.” Ellen answered. “That’s my brother. There are no pictures of Peter up here. We weren’t exactly ...” Ellen looked at Dean. “The happy couple.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. We ... we made our own problems. I never focused on our marriage or anything else for that matter.” She tilted her head and rested her cheek on her hands. “But working with you to help Taylor is the first time in my life I truly focused on anything. Bet you never had that problem.”

  “Focusing?” Dean shook his head. “No.” He inched closer to her and dropped his voice. “But I can honestly say I now have great reason for the focus. Your eyes.” He saw the odd look Ellen gave him and felt the heat of the slight embarrassment hit him. “Let me explain.” He lifted his hand slightly with a nervous smile. “Despite all that I’ve done in my life, you’re the first person to ever look at me with so much faith. No one has ever done that. And that means a lot.”

  Ellen’s eyes lowered as she blushed. Instead of ruining a complement she rather enjoyed getting by saying something to downplay Dean’s words, Ellen said nothing. She returned her attention to the pictures.

  8:22 p.m. - Ashtonville, Connecticut

  In all the years Joe visited Ashtonville, for all the times he was there, he never noticed that hillside east of the small town until that evening as he walked home with Johnny. The darkening sky, still with a hint of dusk, lit up with the flames that roared on top of that hill. The smoke rose up preparing to create the clouds that would darken their next day. But clouds or no clouds, Joe knew no matter what, the next day would be dark. It was another day of the exhausting cleanup. Elks Drive may have been cleaned up and cleared, but the rest of Ashtonville wasn’t.

  Ellen wore a pair of big khaki shorts and a long white tee shirt after her shower, lighter clothing for an evening that seemed too hot for the time of year that it was. She felt fresher, so much of her still damp that her clothing stuck to parts of her body. Combing her wet hair she heard the strange sound of high-pitched voices coming from her home. Setting down her brush on her dresser, she walked out and stopped when she got to Taylor’s room. She leaned in the doorway watching as Henry sat by Taylor. He held two Barbie dolls in her sight and had them bickering while Taylor weakly giggled.

  “No.” Henry had the brunette Barbie hit the blonde. “I hate you. No. I hate you. You’re always going after Ken. Ken is mine. No mine. No mine. No ...” The Barbie dolls dropped from his hand when he noticed Ellen standing there. “El, I’m sorry. I was just ...”

  “Don’t stop.” Ellen told him. “You go on. She’s smiling. Please.”

  “Are you sure?” Henry asked.

  “Positive.”

  “Thanks.” Henry picked the dolls back up.

  Ellen stayed there watching. It wasn’t Henry’s show she didn’t want to miss. It was the glowing look on her daughter’s face. It was a smile and wellness Ellen thought she’d never see again on Taylor, and Ellen swore she would enjoy watching every single second of it.

  Joe Slagel had never liked the Jamieson family. He always thought they were pompous, arrogant and flaunted their money too much. They weren’t nice people even though they thought they were and they looked down their nose at Ellen. Joe didn’t like them. But he did like their house. And he confiscated it as his own the second they finished cleaning up the street.

  He put Johnny to bed and fixed coffee for his company that evening. Bringing the two mugs into the large oak dining room, Joe set a mug in front of George then sat at the tabl
e next to him.

  George nodded in acknowledgment, never taking his folded hands from on the top of the bound manuscript.

  “Now.” Joe spoke. “I’m a smart man. So now it’s just you and me. You wanna tell me the real reason you sought us out and don’t tell me it was just to clean up bodies.”

  “No.” George smiled and pushed the manuscript Joe’s way. “Here.”

  “The Garfield project?” Joe read the title.

  “Yes.” George said. “In 1972, the United States government planned ahead for an event like our virus, extinction by plague. This is the first step in starting over. I want to go there.” George spoke with passion. “I want to do this. But ...” He sat back. “I can’t do it alone. It needs to be run, stocked and ... it needs people.”

  “Hence the strongest life signal you found.”

  “Exactly. Read. I think you’ll find it interesting.”

  Joe flipped open to the first page of the thick manuscript. He felt like he was sitting with his son, Hal, in that dining room. Flashbacks of when Hal, the writer, used to give Joe something of his to read and sit there while Joe read it. But despite the fact that George watched him and looked for signs of piqued interest, Joe shifted his chair, placed his back to George, and read.

  Scranton, Pennsylvania

  He knew he wasn’t that far from home, but Frank knew he had to stop. He set up a small fire where he parked his motorcycle. He sat on an unrolled sleeping bag, a box of Twinkies and an MRE beside him. Illuminated by the fire was the photograph Frank held in his hand, a picture of his four children. In the photo, Johnny held the baby Frank barely got to know. He wondered if he would ever know her. Would all, if any, be alive when he arrived home? He could only hope and pray with all his heart that his children were spared. After all, he was. Maybe that was why he stopped for the night. So much enthusiasm and focusing went into going home, so little thought went into what he would find when he got there. Besides using the night to rest for his arrival home, Frank used the night to mentally prepare and brace himself for what he could possibly find out.