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

by Jacqueline Druga

  “So.” Ellen walked back to her desk.

  “So.” Robbie followed. “What’s uh . . . V-Day?”

  “Virus day. The day the plague began.”

  Robbie swallowed his pride and looked humbled. “I’m sorry about today.”

  “No, don’t be.”

  “No, El. I was wrong for yelling at you. It’s not your fault. I get scared. You know.”

  “I don’t like it either, Robbie. I don’t. But I learned that there’s nothing I can do.” Ellen slowly shook her head. “Don’t think this doesn’t bother me. It does. Clark was in here for three weeks almost four. That’s a long time. I didn’t expect this. Just like I didn’t expect Jason.” Ellen sat down.

  “Who’s Jason?”

  With a slight shrug and a saddened look, Ellen exhaled. “He was a kid. Fifteen maybe. Quiet. So quiet. About four days before you got here, he snapped. He was taken out. I didn’t blame him, there were others involved older men who could have convinced him. But . . .” She tossed her hands up. “Didn’t matter. It bothered me. He was a kid and a kid who looked so much like my son Josh.” Ellen smiled. “I used to call him Josh. I think about Jason all the time. Is he alive. Is he fine? He . . . he’s just a kid.”

  “If you only knew.” Robbie grabbed her hand.

  “I’ll never know.” Ellen’s head lowered.

  Frank knew the routine. Unless Ellen absolutely didn’t like someone in containment she clammed up when they were ousted. She would dismiss it to everyone as frustration over all the work she put into the survivor. Frank always pretended to buy that excuse, and found another way to make her feel better. He felt it his job, a job he loved. Ellen had been in his life for so long he didn’t know how to not to think of her, despite what she believed of his intentions. And his intentions were, fighting or no fighting, together or not, Ellen needed their routine. And with V-Day approaching, Frank wanted to do something for her. Something to make her feel better, anything that would at least get them talking for the day that signified the start to the end of their lives. Walking into containment, Frank rummaged through his mind on what he could say. But stopping in the hall outside of Ellen’s office, hearing her and Robbie’s conversation, enlightened him. It wasn’t words, it was actions he was meant to take. Without seeing Ellen that night, he left. He knew what he had to do.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  May 28th

  “Son of a bitch.” Joe slammed his fist on his desk, puffed frantically at his cigarette and stared at the radio. “Come on Frank, check in.”

  Robbie noticed the look of concern of his father’s face, also on Henry’s and George’s for that matter. All four in the room watched the radio as if it were going to jump up and dance. “How long now, Dad?”

  “Twenty minutes.” Joe began to tap his fingernails on the desk, from forefinger to pinky in a fast arpeggio manner.

  “Dad, I don’t understand, you said you guys pull a check on this camp once a week.”

  “Usually from the air. Frank wanted to get a closer look.”

  “Who are these people?”

  Joe looked up at Henry and George almost as if for approval to tell Robbie. “They’re people we ousted. We dropped them off, and somehow some of them banned together and stayed in this small town about forty miles from here.”

  “From the look on all of your faces, these people aren’t friendly to you. Doesn’t this concern you with them being so close?”

  “They haven’t moved yet. They can’t get here except by foot. And all of them weren’t in the community long enough to find out where we are. If by some chance they found us, you know how secure this area is, they’d never get in.”

  Robbie leaned back in his seat. “If they wanted in, you know they’d find a way.”

  Joe only glanced up to Robbie a stern look.

  “Why did Frank go anyway?”

  “To feel better. I don’t know, that’s what he said. When Frank get’s something in his mind, there’s no stopping him.” The static from the radio grew louder, everyone turned to face it.

  “Frank here.” Frank’s voice came through, not as loud and clear as hoped for.

  “Frank.” Joe grabbed the mike. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m heading back now. Too many to sneak in. They picked up a few more it looks like. How, I don’t know, we’re in the middle of fuckin’ Montana.”

  “Just get back here. Double time.” Joe commanded.

  “Got it. See you in . . .” Three loud gun shots rang through in the background. “I have gun fire here!”

  “Frank, don’t worry about firing back. Just head home.”

  “That’s what I’m doing . . . fuck, there shooting arrows at me.” The sound of a revving engine reached the level of Frank’s calm but disgusted voice. “Looks like three, maybe four of them to my . . .” The radio became silent.

  “Frank!” Joe called to him. “Frank, come in. Frank.” There was no response. “We lost a signal. Henry do something.”

  Henry began to examine the radio, he flicked the station to another channel, and looked at the readouts as he did. “Receiver’s fine. It has to be on Frank’s end.”

  Joe gripped the microphone. “Frank, do you read me?”

  Nothing.

  George reached for the keys for the helicopter. “I’ll get some men together, we’ll fly there now.”

  “No!” Joe raised his hand stopping him. “If they have him, the noise from the bird will alert them. Let’s give him time.”

  Robbie jumped to his feet. “What? Time? I’ll go, let me go. I’ll take a jeep, tell me where this place is at.”

  “No!” Joe spoke loudly. “Give him time. I know Frank. He’ll be all right.”

  “I know what it’s like out there. I know what they can do to him.”

  “And I know my son. Frank is all right.” Joe looked at his watch. “Let’s give him an hour. If he’s not back, we’ll head out.”

  Robbie sat back down, he was in total disagreement with his father. How could Joe leave Frank out there like that? He wanted to just leave, but he knew he couldn’t even get out of the community without someone, somewhere pushing a button. “Dad, if you send out for him. I want to go.”

  Joe just raised his eyes to his son, and didn’t comment to him.

  The hour was moving slow. The silence in the room was near deafening. The tension could be felt, as Joe looked from his watch to the clock on the wall every few minutes. He tried to hide his uneasiness. He tried to hide the fact that he was beginning to worry. Forty-five minutes, and still nothing. They had alerted John Matoose who stood watch on the tower. No word from John. No word from Frank.

  Robbie jumped up, he couldn’t take anymore. “That’s it. He’s been gone long enough. He should be back, or at least in scope view. Let’s go, Dad. We’re wasting time.”

  Before Joe could say anything, Ellen walked calmly into Joe’s office. “O.K. Joe, I have a break, I really should get to cleaning out that . . .” She hesitated at the door, holding it open while she stood in surprise at the somber faces in the room. “What’s going on?”

  Joe walked from behind his desk and approached her. “Ellen, Frank went beyond the wall to go check that nearby survivor camp.”

  “Alone?” She asked.

  “Alone and by jeep. He wanted to see if . . . Jason was there. Johnny said he thought he spotted him by air.”

  Ellen slowly looked around taking in the somber expressions on the faces in the room. “Joe? Is he all right?”

  Joe took a deep breath. “At last contact with him, there was gunfire, and some sort of attack on his jeep. We don’t know. We lost contact.”

  “Dad, look.” Robbie stepped forward. “We have to move on this. And now.”

  Joe looked at the radio again. No sound emerged from it. He paused before waiting to give the order. Doing so was admitting that Frank had been ambushed. “All right. Let’s do it. Henry gather up Dan, and Greg. Robbie will go with them . . .”

>   A loud crackle, a hiss, and John Matoose’s voice over the radio. “I see him he’s approaching the tunnel gate.”

  A sense of relief hit the room. Joe clenched his fist in excitement.

  “Security is letting him in. He looks fine. Should be your way in a minute.”

  As if someone opened the door and released the enormous pressure, everyone in the room relaxed. A loud sigh emerged from all of them.

  Ellen turned to the door and waited. She listened for the jeep. She heard.

  Frank’s jeep stopped, the way he always stopped it, fast and noisy. The sound of his clomping footsteps approached and the door opened. “Fuckin’ savages.” Frank walked into the room, and tossed his walkie-talkie on the desk. It was in several pieces. “They arrowed my radio.” In his anger he didn’t notice everyone in the room. He did however, notice Ellen. “Hey, El. What are you doing here?”

  “What am I doing here?” Ellen stepped to him. “What the hell were you doing Frank?” She asked with edge.

  Frank was stunned by her reaction. “Um . . . something.”

  “Something?” Ellen questioned.

  “I was trying to do something nice for you. Make you feel better.”

  “What? Like dying? You asshole. Yeah. You know what? That would have done it.” Spinning on her heels, Ellen said no more and stormed out.

  Frank, confused, scratched his head watching her leave. He turned back to his father. “Did you guys tell her something bad about me?”

  Joe rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Frank we had a Frank bashing party while you were gone.”

  “Oh.” Frank nodded then noticed Henry checking out his broken radio. “Henry? Can you fix it?”

  Henry, with the you-got-to be-kidding-me look upon his face, held up the pieces, a stone arrow head plopped on the desk. “Sure, Frank. I’ll get right on it.”

  “Good.” Frank bobbed his head. “All right. I’m finishing rounds.” He clapped his hands together once with an attitude that so much as said he didn’t comprehend the tension he made transpire.

  “Frank.” Joe called out as Frank reached for the door. “Um . . . did you spot the kid at all?”

  Frank snapped his finger with a grin. “Oh. Yeah. I did.” He opened the door.

  “And?” Joe asked.

  “And what?”

  “And how is he?” Joe’s voice showed a little more irritation.

  “Who?”

  “Jason!” Joe snapped. “You saw him, is he all right!”

  “God, Dad yell at me! Yes. He’s fine. All you had to do was ask.” Opening up the door, shaking his head in disbelief at his father, Frank left.

  Joe tossed his hands up and looked to the others in the room. “And we trust our lives to him.”

  ***

  The annoying high tuned music blared loudly after the dart sailed into the bulls-eye. Robbie grinned arrogantly, picking up his drink on the way to the dart board to retrieve his dart. “Game over.” He took a sip as he turned around and raised his eyebrows to Paul.

  “Luck. Just luck.” Paul shook his head. “Got time for another?”

  “No way.” Robbie downed his drink and set the empty glass on the bar. “I’m pulling a solo at containment tonight. My uh, Dad’s tired.” Robbie smiled.

  “Solo?” Paul asked. “Alone.”

  “Well. That’s what solo means.” Another chuckle escaped Robbie and he looked at his watch. “I have to go. So you have to take my place and play whose next.” Robbie looked around the semi-crowded hall. “Whoever that is.” He approached Paul and handed him the darts.

  “Shall I tell Michelle where you’re at if she asks again?” Paul laughed sarcastically.

  Robbie cringed. “You’re so funny aren’t you?”

  “Have fun at containment. With . . .”

  “Don’t.” Robbie pointed and shook his head with a smile. “That’s not why I’m going.”

  “No. He’s right.” Larry, a thin odd looking man interjected as he approached his turn at the dart board. “He’s going to containment because he gets special treatment.”

  Robbie stopped cold in his tracks. He turned around and stepped back. “Excuse me?”

  “I thought I was clear.” Larry reached over the bar for the bottle and poured a drink. “I mean, I’ve been part of security for a year now. Never worked containment.” He shrugged. “I don’t get special treatment. Look where you’re off to.”

  Paul saw the look on Robbie’s face, a slight shade of red building, and with a nervous chuckle, Paul stepped his body in front of Larry. “Take it easy, Larry. Robbie’s helping out his Dad, man. Why you getting in his shit?”

  “Because Robbie Slagel struts around here like he’s better than anyone else. When the truth is.” Larry tilted his head back and gulped a shot of whiskey. “When the truth is, he isn’t. What’s funny is. He may be a Slagel but . . . he’s not an original. And we don’t treat him like one of us. So really, he’s neither here nor there.” Larry dropped his voice to a instigating whisper. “He’s a nobody.”

  The rustling of Robbie’s charge forth, sent warning signals off to Paul and he jumped in Robbie’s path, bodily holding him back. “He’s not worth it.” He stared Robbie in the eyes. “He’s not . . . worth it. Go. Go to containment. Go.” Paul motioned his head.

  Robbie glared once at Larry and reached around Paul’s body. He lifted the bottle of whiskey and slammed it hard on the bar. “Have another drink, Larry. The community needs a drunk walking a beat tonight.”

  “Go.” Paul softly spoke. “Go.” Feeling Robbie’s tense body back up, Paul sighed in relief and stood there waiting until Robbie had left. He turned back and gave a cold stare at Larry. Foregoing his dart game, Paul opted for a quiet corner where he could pick out his frustration on his guitar.

  ***

  “Go on, Dean, I’m listening.” Ellen reached across the dinner table for one more small helping. “But make it fast I have to get to containment. Alex, honey, sit in your chair.”

  Dean shifted his eyes to his daughter who chose to kneel awkwardly on her chair. “As I was saying. We have this history.”

  “Who?”

  “Us.” Dean stood from his seat and fixed his daughter. “Stay seated.” He moved over to Ellen. “And I’ve been doing a lot of serious . . .” Dean cringed at Alexandra’s whine. “Billy, leave her alone . . . thinking about us.”

  Ellen shook her head. “Is this a bad talk?” She shoved a bite of food in her mouth. “Because I don’t want to . . . Billy.” Ellen scolded. “Eat, don’t play.”

  Billy peered up from his noodles that were spread in a line across his plate. “I hate the little ones. Why do you make the little ones?”

  “It’s a conspiracy. Dean, grab her. She’s gonna fall.” Ellen instructed.

  Again Dean walked over to Alexandra. He lifted her, talking as he did. “This isn’t a bad talk. I hope not. I need to ask you something . . .” He set Alexandra down. “ . . . very important.” A thump and scream caught Dean’s attention when he missed the chair he put his daughter in. “Shit.”

  “Way to go, Dean.” Ellen hurried over to help.

  “She’s fine.” Dean checked her out as Ellen crouched down across from him on the floor.

  “She’s crying. Alex, are you all right?” Ellen helped her up.

  “This, El, this is what life is about.”

  “A screaming child?” Ellen snickered.

  “No. This. Chaos. Family. Us. Marry me.”

  “What?” Ellen stood after situating Alexandra back at the table. “I can’t believe you just proposed over noodle casserole. And when I’m late.” She walked from the dining area. “I have to go. Ask me later.”

  “Actually.” Dean followed her. “I proposed over a fallen child. But . . .” He jumped around the couch and dove to the door to stop her. “I know I talked about it before. But I never asked. El.” He grabbed her arm and reached in his front pocket of his jeans. “Henry and I made this. We melted down my Dad’s ring.”
He grabbed her hand and placed on her finger, the molded gold band with two small diamonds. “Marry me. I know now in my heart, things can be forgiven and forgotten.”

  Ellen stared down at the ring. “Life is ironic, isn’t it?” she whispered.

  “El? Answer?”

  “Dean.” Ellen, near laughter, shook her head. “Could you have least picked a better moment. God, your dad’s ring, this is sentimental and I’m rushing here. You’re a diehard romantic.”

  “All right.” Dean held out his hand. “Here, I’ll ask later. Give me the ring back”

  Ellen tried to pull the ring from her finger, it wouldn’t budge. “Shit. It’s stuck.”

  Dean snickered. “Now, so are you.”

  Ellen grunted. “I’m not giving you an answer.”

  “Are you saying yes?”

  “No.”

  “You’re turning me down?” Dean asked.

  “No! Dean!” Ellen tried once more to remove the ring. She failed. “Bye.” She kissed him quickly. “We’ll talk later.” Still struggling to remove the ring, Ellen paused to open the door. She looked back at Dean and smiled. “Thanks.”

  Believing it really didn’t go all that bad, Dean stared in thought after Ellen had left. Then he heard another ‘thump’ and Alexandra’s scream and Dean was whisked from his slight blissful moment into chaotic family mode again.

  ***

  Clipboard in one hand, flashlight in the other, Larry walked his beat in the area of perimeter thirty. A small hilly area located a mile east of the fields. It was Larry’s division. One he watched for wandering survivors or animals that strayed there. He walked perimeter twenty-three to thirty, six nights a week. It was the same thing for him, checking out each sector of the perimeter fence. Kneeling, examining the beam, make a notation on his security rounds sheet, stand up and move on. He neared sector three, taking it slow on the sloped terrain. As he approached the portion where the beam was located he felt the slight pressure against his shin and then he heard the subtle crack. Looking up and around, Larry barely heard the whipping sound when he felt the tightness wrap around his ankle in a strangling manner. It startled him, causing the flashlight to tumble from his hands. Before he could reach down for it, his leg swept out from under him and Larry stumbled back. He shrieked short and once and then he shrieked no more. Sizzling in the dark night, sparks emerging intermittently with the flames from his body, Larry fried against the perimeter fence.