In a whisper, Ellen spoke in shook. “We did it?”
“It’s finally over.”
“Oh, Dean I am so proud of you.” Happy, Ellen threw her arms around his neck and embraced him tightly.
“We did it El. I couldn’t have done it without your help.”
Ellen released a little from the embrace, but her excitement drew her back in, she shrieked with joy as she hugged him again.
“Enough!” Frank stepped closer separating them. “What the hell is going on?”
Ellen looked at Frank then to Dean. “Should we tell him?”
Dean nodded.
“Frank.” Ellen wrung her hands and grabbed Frank’s. “Look at me I’m shaking. Frank, we beat the plague.”
“What are you talking about?” Frank asked.
“We beat it. Tell him Dean. Tell him what this means.”
“It means it’s over.” Dean said. “It can’t hurt us anymore. We beat it, or at least know how to beat it. Any baby born now, not immune, will live.”
“Wow.” Frank ran his hand over his head stunned. “El, this is really great. I didn’t know you were working on that.”
“No one did. We didn’t want anyone’s hopes up. Or anyone mad for working on it.” She kissed Frank on the cheek then faced Dean, lifting her bangs from her eyes. “Where did you find it? How?”
“El.” Dean shook his head speaking fast. “It was so simple I can’t believe we missed it. So simple. We were thinking too hard. Remember solution seventy-three?” He saw Ellen nod. “That was the one. I went over the books. I was reading our results. Remember how it had a really high success rate and we couldn’t figure out why it wouldn’t get any stronger? ”
Frank snickered. “What? Did you guys like, dilute it too much?”
Dean moved his hand to Frank. “There you have it. I told you we were thinking too hard. We added water. The solution in a non-diluted state was fine.”
Ellen laughed in disbelief. “We added too much water?”
Frank snickered even more as he took off his coat. “The big mind of the little man scientist fails. You guys should have called me sooner. Look how fast I thought of that. Just like . . .” Frank snapped. “That.”
Dean didn’t care what Frank said, he was in much too good of a mood. “You’re the genius Frank. El, I’m heading back to the lab. Stop by in the morning. We still have to figure out dosages and create the actual anti-serum before we let everyone know. So, Frank . . .” He turned to Frank who appeared to be gloating. “Please don’t say anything yet.”
“Not a problem.” Frank said as he walked in his living room.
“I’m leaving, El. Thanks again.” Dean grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “The nightmare is finally over. Too bad it’s not six years earlier huh?”
Just as Ellen was about to agree, Frank spoke up. “He wouldn’t have done it six years ago. He couldn’t have.”
Sharply Dean turned to him. “I resent that. Why do you say that?”
“Because. That root shit you send us out for, the stuff they grow for you in the special green house, that’s all stuff you used, right?”
“Right.” Dean nodded.
“Well, would you have been using them six years ago?” Frank asked.
Speechless. Dean didn’t know what to say at first. His mouth dropped open. “He’s right.”
“I am.” Frank agreed arrogantly.
Shaking his head, Dean moved to the door. He stopped in his leaving. “I guess when you actually think about it, it makes sense, an eerie sense. Man used his own chemicals to create the virus that wiped out mankind. But it took God’s nature to beat it.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
March 3
With a whispering sound, Henry poked his head into the skills room to get Ellen’s attention. “Psst.” He had to do it several times.
Finally, Ellen looked up from leaning over Gene’s shoulder. She smiled brightly at Henry, held up one finger then walked over to Frank. Frank sat in a chair, corner of the room, legs spread, hands between them and his head rested back. She kicked his foot.“Frank?”
“Hold on.” He looked up to Ellen. “What’s up?”
“I’m going to talk to Henry. Keep an eye on things in here.”
“No problem.” He return to speaking in his headset softly. “So what was that?”
Shaking her head and laughing Ellen met Henry in the doorway. “What’s up?”
“I brought you a surprise.” He showed her a cloth bag. “Why is Frank sitting in there?”
“Oh, get this. Frank is my new Wednesday guard. Only I can’t get the survivors to do anything they are too afraid of him. So now, Wednesdays are shot.”
Henry looked into Frank, he saw him shaking his head and his mouth moving. “Is he talking to himself?”
“No, I think to Dan. He does that all day checking up on people. The survivors really think he’s whacked. That makes them even more scared.” She took hold of Henry’s arm and walked with him. “Come to my office with me.”
“I brought you rice cakes.” He handed her a small cloth sack as they walked in her office.
“Oh, Henry. I love these.” Immediately Ellen began picking at them as she sat down behind her desk. “So what’s up?”
“Two things.” Henry sat down in a chair before her desk. “Are we still on for tonight. We have the field house to investigate.”
“Without a doubt. I’ll dress warmly.”
“Do that. And the other thing.” Henry showed nervousness. “George saw us coming out of the bakery at ten o’clock last night. So I lied to cover up. I told him I was finding a reason to be alone with you because I liked you.”
“Good one, Henry.”
“But my concern lies with Frank. What happens if he finds out this little . . .”
It wasn’t Ellen’s voice that interrupted Henry. It was too gruff and sandy. “Oh most definitely . . . he will hurt you.” George entered. “Crush you, Henry, like a bug.”
Ellen’s mind raced as her heart beat. “Oh um, hey, George. What’s up?”
“I saw Henry coming here and I have to talk to you both.” George crossed his arms. “You know me. I tend to butt out of everyone’s business. But I see warning flags going up. I’m sorry to do this to you Henry, but, Ellen do you know how he feels?”
“I do.” She smiled flirtatious at Henry. “Isn’t it cute?”
“Cute?” George questioned.
“Who’s cute?” Joe asked as he walked in the office.
“Henry.” Ellen pointed. “He has a crush on me.”
At the point where Henry’s head plopped forward to Ellen’s desk, Joe laughed. “A crush? You have a crush on Ellen?” Joe shook his head. “No wonder you’re hanging around her so much. What better way to stop being attracted to Ellen than to spend time with her.” He laughed harder and smacked Henry on the back.
Ellen gasped. “I can’t believe you said that about me.”
“I’m having fun with you.” Joe walked around the desk and kissed her. “Lighten up, it’s not good for the baby. And Henry, get over it fast before Frank find out and kills you.”
“Who’s Frank going to kill now?” Dean asked as he too waltzed into Ellen’s office.
Ellen’s threw her hands up. “What is this invade Ellen time?”
Joe still laughing, moved from Ellen. “Frank’s gonna kill Henry. Seems he has a crush on Ellen.”
Henry reached the point that not only was his head on Ellen’s desk, but buried beneath his arms as well.
“Henry has a crush on Ellen?” Dean snickered shaking his head. “Henry, I thought you knew her better.”
“Enough.” Ellen’s hands slammed to her desk as she stood. “Now why are all you people here? Is some major event going to happen that I don’t know about?”
“Son of a bitch!” Frank’s voice was heard loud and clear blasting from the skills room. The sound of panicking, screaming survivors, and trampling feet, immediately followed as they ran amuc
k.
“I spoke too soon.” Ellen scurried from behind her desk. “Oh God, what did he do to them?” She waited for the stampede to pass her in the hall then she darted Frank’s way. As she slid into the skills room, she saw Frank standing center, shaking his head, one hand on his hip.
“You have to be kidding me.” Frank paced angrily in circles talking to the microphone in the headset. “No. No! I’ll take care of this.” He snapped the headset off and looked up. He had an audience. “Where’d everyone go?"
“You frightened them, Frank.” Ellen led the office crew into the skills room. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, get this.” Frank shook his head in disgust. “There’s a survivor at the front gate.”
“The front gate?” They all asked together.
“Yes.” Frank looked at them like they hadn’t heard him the first time. “Can you believe it? The first nice day we have, the first nice day and one of them find us. We’re in the middle of Montana. Can someone explain this to me?” Frank began to storm from the skills room. “Now I have to go march my ass up there, possibly let the psycho in, and haul his ass back here.” His complaining faded down the hall with his heavy marching boots. “The middle of Montana. Not only does he find us. But he finds the hardest gate. What? Do the survivors have a bulletin board posted?”
^^^^
Frank was in no hurry. Why would he be? This person was invading his front gate without an invitation. He took the jeep up the roadway closer to the tunnel, parking at the end. He could have driven through, but his mood dictated he walk, possibly cool down by the time he reached the tunnel’s end. He had a tendency to scare the survivors and had a hard time figuring out why.
As soon as Frank entered the dark tunnel he could see the figure at the far end. “Hey!” Frank yelled out to him and began to trot when he saw the person reaching out. “Don’t touch that gate! Your ass will get fried, and I’m not in the mood to be scraping you up!”
“I apologize.” The soft male voice called out. “I should have known.”
Frank saw him. He stopped three feet from the gate at the vision of the man. His tall body covered by the long green hooded coat. The yellow trim caught Frank’s eye--A man wearing yellow. The man, slightly balding, wearing round wire rim glasses held a duffel bag in one hand, and strapped across his other shoulder, a sack with cardboard tubes. “Stay back from the fence.” Frank approached him pulling out his revolver.
“Don’t shoot me; I’ve come a long way.”
“You all do. And I’m not gonna shoot you, just step back from the fence.” He held his gun up.
The man stepped back.
Frank checked out the uninvited visitor. He looked harmless enough. Speaking into his headset, he called to security. “Down the front.” After the buzz of the downing fence, Frank reached for his keys.
“I realize this must be a shock.” The man said. “I may be late. I’ve run into some difficulty.”
Frank laughed to himself at the man. Shaking his head as he opened the gate.
“Thank you.” He showed Frank his duffel bag.
“What? Carry you own goddamn bags!” Frank scolded. “What do you think I am, your boy?”
Taken aback, the stranger moved away holding his chest. His face looked shocked. “Before we go any further. I must know . . .” His head tilted. “I must know.”
“Must know what?” Frank grew perturbed.
“Is this the Garfield Project?”
Frank’s mouth dropped. “What did you just say?”
The man looked as if he was catching his breath. His head began to sway and he reached to Frank to catch his balance. “I said . . . is this the Garfield Project?”
^^^^
“God Frank, What the hell did you do to him?” Dean stood over the survivor in the clinic.
“I didn’t do anything to him. I told you the goof passed out.” Frank waved his hand in front of the unconscious man who now lay in the bed. “What’s wrong with him?”
“I don’t know.” Dean shook his head. “Possibly exhaustion, we’re going to have to run some test.” Dean noticed Joe and George standing in the doorway. “You two can come.”
Joe stepped closer to the man. “Looks like he was warned about us. He tried to clean himself up.”
Frank snickered. “You should have seen his coat. It had yellow trim.”
Andrea entered the room, speaking as she did. “I think we may have a strange one on our hands. In fact when he wakes up, he may be too unbalanced to keep.”
Everyone turned to her.
Joe spoke up to question. “Why do you say that?”
“Well.” She held up a black wallet. “Look what he had in his pants. A wallet. Complete with cash, credit cards, drivers license. The works.” She showed it about. “He’s definitely delusional. And his name is Chester Arnold Nelson. Thirty-five years old. From Washington D.C.”
Frank suddenly snapped to attention. “So that explains why he said that. He’s from Washington D.C.”
Joe hated when Frank did that. Said things that made absolutely no sense to anyone that was listening. “Frank, what the hell are you talking about?”
“This Chester guy. When I let him in, he asked if this was the Garfield Project. It took me aback. But then it makes sense. He probably raided the White House and found out about it.”
Joe quickly turned to George. “Did you leave any information behind?”
“I uh . . . yes. Yes I did.” George stuttered. “Who would have thought? I mean all of us in the shelter had a copy of the plan. I merely took mine.”
Joe threw his hands up. “That explains it then. The guy probably is delusional.”
Frank’s loud grunt was heard. “A complete whack job. Get this, I open up the fence and the guy hands me his duffel bag to carry. He’s lucky I didn’t throw him back out for being a moron.”
Dean’s head shifted back and forth as he placed the stethoscope to Chester’s chest. “You can’t throw people out for being a moron Frank. If we could, who would be running security?”
Frank stormed over to him, grabbed the bottom of the stethoscope that was on Chester and brought it to his lips. “Hey!”
“God.” Dean flung off the stethoscope. “There’s something wrong with you.”
Giving a sick sadistic laugh at the thought of irritating Dean, Frank left the room. He wanted to go to containment.
The laughing from Ellen’s office made its way down the containment hall to Frank as he approached. “At least some people are having fun and not working today.” He peeked in Ellen’s doorway.
“Frank.” Ellen looked up from her desk and the bowl there. “How’s the person at the gate?”
“Don’t ask.” Frank walked in. “Henry, don’t you have a job to do?”
“Yes I do. You know that.” Henry rolled his eyes at Ellen. “However, we’re having lunch and I was waiting for you. El and I were curious about this person at the front gate.”
After peeking at the contents of the bowls they ate from, Frank reached to steal a noodle, but his hand was smacked by Ellen. He gave up. “The guy’s a lunatic.” he pulled up a chair and sat down. “I go to the tunnel right? There’s this guy, wearing this green coat, not just green, but check this out, it had yellow trim. The whole country before him and he picks a coat with yellow trim. So I figure . . . Pansy. Harmless. I let him in. And he hands me his bag. I very politely tell him to carry his own bags. And he asks me, is this the Garfield Project. Then he passed out. I had to carry him.”
Ellen’s mouth dropped open. “Oh my God.” She hurried and looked at Henry. “Henry, you don’t think?”
“Could be the real thing, El.” Henry nodded. “Time door.”
“Travel way.”
“He did say the Garfield Project.”
“He knows.” Ellen nodded.
“Let’s go.” Henry jumped up and so did Ellen. Both of them flew from the office.
“Hey!” Frank called out turning in his chai
r. “Great. They up and leave to see some passed out guy who wears yellow trim. But . . .” Frank smiled. “They left me lunch.” Pulling the two bowls to him, Frank, like Goldie Locks, claimed Ellen and Henry’s food. The noodles were bland and cold, but he was hungry and they were a treat. A small consolation in retrospect of carrying the heavy stranger with a bad coat.
CHAPTER EIGHT
March 4
Ellen checked her list, and was actually grateful to Dean for not giving her too many arms to prick for blood. She was tired, and when Ellen got tired, she lost her focus. Making it somewhat uncomfortable for any patients that have to feel the wrath of her needle setting forth.
She tried to make herself more awake on this morning. She would have had more coffee, but Frank always had it ready to go and he hid the rest of it. ‘Limiting your caffeine intake’ he’d huff at her. So in a zombie-like state she dressed, got the twins off to school and arrived at the clinic. She was sure she fell asleep somewhere in her journeys, but wasn’t certain when.
The easiest was saved for last, Chester. There was nothing Ellen like more than an unconscious patient. Curious about the stranger, and checking her tray of supplies one more time, Ellen walked into Chester’s room. She slowed down in surprise when she saw George sitting there. “George, why are you here? It’s only eight o’clock.”
George stretched and stood from the chair. “I just wanted to speak to the guy about what he knew about the Garfield Project. But, he’s not awake.”
“Maybe he will be after I stick him.” Ellen set the tray on Chester’s legs and rummaged through for her stuff.
“Let me know if he does.” George began to leave the room. “Have a good one.”
“You, too.” Ellen lifted Chester’s arm and applied alcohol. She looked at the cloth that had wiped him off, it was clean. “Weird.” She shrugged and placed a tourniquet on his arm then stuck him with the needle. “So my husband says you wear yellow trim?” She leaned closer to his ear. “Bad choice.” She removed the tube of blood from the hub and added an empty one. “Almost done. Now aren’t I gentle?” Finishing up, she wrote his name across each tube and placed them in the tray. As she lifted it and turned she saw his glasses on the stand next to the bed, she picked them up. They looked odd to her, setting them down it dawned on her--Chester looked odd to her. Placing the tray on the floor, Ellen began to do her own visual observation of the newcomer.
The Big Ten: The First Ten Books of the Beginnings Series Page 88
