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

by Jacqueline Druga

  “Just checking.” Joe nodded and continued. “Now, Dean came to me an hour ago and put in a request to council for Chester’s immediate ousting. As much as we’d like that, we believe Chester is up to something. So we decided not to oust him . . .yet.” He held up his hand. “We’re gonna stick him in holding until cryoprocess is complete. Keep him locked up. We may need information from him and we can’t chance that info being lost in the wilderness. So . . . just until then, he stays.”

  Ellen had to voice her concerns. “What if he doesn’t give us any info we before hand?”

  “My son.” Joe held out his palm pointing to Frank. “We know Chester knows something. So the last day, we tell Chester, if he doesn’t talk . . . then we lock Frank in a room with him. Hopefully with the fear that Frank can use any and all means to get him to spill his guts, Chester will sing.”

  Finally a smile crossed Frank’s face. He liked that plan. To him there was something strangely and dementedly satisfying about being the human equivalent to sodium pentothal.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  May 31

  Dean had some cultures he wanted to check on back in the clinic lab. He hated having to do it, especially with needing to be down in the cryo-lab for the final meeting later on that night. He wanted to get rest. That was something he had been getting most of his from laying on the counter.

  It struck him odd the sound of music softly seeping from the lab. No one was supposed to be there. But what struck him more was the song that played. It was something he hadn’t heard in years. Since right after the plague in Ashtonville.

  Tuning into the lab, Dean stopped. The music played slowly and he saw Ellen moving about the lab lit on by the fluorescent light above the sink. She moved slowly as well, humming lightly as she prepared something at the back counter. He leaned, shoulder on the archway, arms folded, watching her for longer than he should. Listening to the song, the words, drawing up on sensations that the old melody brought forth. He cleared his throat slightly so as not to scare her.

  It didn’t work. With a slight peep, Ellen spun around. “Dean.” She grabbed her chest.

  “What are you doing here?” He asked walking in. He saw her reaching to turn off the cassette. “No, leave it on.”

  “You like it too?” Ellen asked.

  “We used to listen to that tape . . .”

  “Doc Breyer’s office.” Ellen let out a sad sigh. “When we were working on a cure for Taylor.”

  “You used to . . .” Dean stepped to the counter. “You used to have a CD of this. And keep the repeat button on for this song.”

  “Yeah.” Ellen finished her supplies. “Can’t do it now. If I want to hear the song I have to rewind. Too much work.”

  Dean smiled. “Without sounding corny. I always deemed this song . . .”

  “Ours.” Ellen finished the sentence. “Me, too.” She folded her arms and looked at him. “Well.” She stepped back. “I’d better go. We have that meeting in a few hours.”

  “What are you doing here?” Dean asked.

  “One of my survivors is sick. And I wanted to do a throat culture tonight. You?”

  “Me? Checking my petri dishes.” He moved her tray to her. “You better go. Get some rest. Tomorrow’s a big day.”

  “Yeah it is.” Ellen grabbed her supplies and took a step away. She looked over her shoulder to Dean who watched her. “Night.”

  “Night, El.” He smiled gently. “Oh, gloves. Wear them. Get into the habit.”

  Walking backwards, Ellen looked at him curiously. “That’s a weird comment.”

  “Let’s just say I’m getting concerned again. New people. Old germs. Germs we got rid of a while ago. Gloves. O.K.? You’re carrying . . . you’re pregnant.”

  Ellen hesitated, then she smiled. Quickly she moved to the center counter, opened the drawer and pulled out a pair of gloves. She held them up. “Night.”

  “Night.” Dean waited until she left then faced the tape player. His hand reached up to shut off the deck when the slow song ended. But instead of his finger pressing ‘stop’ Dean hit ‘rewind’ and listened to it again.

  ^^^^

  The holding room had become his home for nineteen days. A bed, small bathroom, dresser and a light. The four walls were metal looking and not a window to let the sun shine through. Chester bided his time. He felt it was only a matter of time before his release. Not that Beginnings would release him, but his colleagues. The ones who were less than twenty-four hours away from awakening. They would be as outraged as he at the thought of one of them being held, as if he were a prisoner.

  Chester spent most of his time pacing, reading and thinking. He engaged in little conversation, no one wanted to speak to him. They merely opened the door at meal time and slid him in his food. The thinking part drove him crazy. Maybe it was the isolation of it, but his thoughts brought to him guilt. Guilt of what he knew. Guilt over what he could not tell.

  He hadn’t a clue what time it was. He assumed it was late evening because it had been awhile since his third meal. That’s why it struck him as odd when he heard the key in the door.

  George opened the door, stepped in with hesitation, then closed it behind him. “I need to talk to you Chester.”

  Chester swallowed. George made him nervous. Though the others in Beginnings just saw him as one of them, Chester saw him as the president. Because to Chester there were no years that had passed in his mind. He said nothing to George, he just sat on his bed and gave him his attention.

  George jingled his keys in his hand as he slowly paced at the foot of the bed. “I’m sure you’ve kept track of days, Chester. And because of that, I’m sure that you’re aware of the fact that in a short time those people will awaken.” George stopped pacing. “And Chester I’m sure you are fully aware of what tomorrow will bring also. You see, because of your attitude, because of your sneaking and lying, Beginnings is led to believe that you know something you don’t want them to know. In fact, it’s totally obvious that you do. Now you can deny it all you want. But actions speak louder than words. Actions always speak louder than words.” George jingled the keys even more. “Tomorrow, before the people awaken, Beginnings expects to find out what you know. Tomorrow Frank will open up this door and come in here to get the truth.” He stormed closer to Chester with a fierce look on his face. “You know what that means don’t you? Frank will get the truth out of you. Let me tell you how it will go. If he can’t scare it out of you.” George lowered his voice to a frightening whisper. “He will beat it out of you. Frank is cold, mean, and heartless.” George stood straight and stepped back with confidence. “The truth will come out. You will fold to the truth whether you intend to or not. So save yourself Chester. Save yourself.” George backed to the door and opened it. “If the truth is going to come out, why go through all that torture. Do the right thing. You know what that is.” Shutting the door, with no more to say, George left. He hoped that his warning to Chester would be heeded. George locked the door once more, placed his keys in his pocket, and faced a waiting Joe. “I talked to him.”

  “Do you think it’ll work?” Joe asked.

  “Positive.”

  “Good.” Joe walked with him. “Whether Frank is looking forward to kicking his ass or not, I’d hate to see him beat the truth out of him.”

  “Me too Joe.” George patted him on the back. “Me too.”

  ^^^^

  After the 3:00 a.m. check, like they were his pupils. Ellen, Henry, and Johnny sat on stools, backs leaning against the counter, watching a very serious scientist. Dean paced a little before them, his eyes tired, his body moving in slow motion. “Everything seems to be in order. Melissa is going to double check the make-shift hospital in the morning. Johnny will be on site, down here from eight on. Henry, you’ll stay until then. Now . . . I have a surprise for you. I’ve prepared a little something.” He turned from them and walked across the room.

  Ellen squirmed with excitement and leaned to Henry, whispering. “
Like a reward. He makes the best sugar cookies.”

  An extended hand, Dean’s hand, holding a homemade booklet, reached out to Ellen. “You’re not in kindergarten, Ellen. This is not a treat.” Dean handed one to Henry and Johnny also. “I made an agenda slash pamphlet for all of you.”

  Ellen flipped through the spiral bound pages. “Look how anal he is Henry. He bound them with that contraption they had down here.”

  Dean shut her pamphlet for her. “Ellen, pay attention. There will be a quiz today following the afternoon check.”

  Ellen laughed loudly. “A quiz.” She leaned over to her other side to Johnny, whispering . “He’s not serious is he?”

  Johnny rolled his eyes and nodded his head. “He loves giving quizzes. But don’t worry, they’re usually multiple choice.”

  Dean held his book up. “I want all of you to go through this book today every chance you get. We’re gonna take a few minutes right now and go over it. Turn to page one.” He waited for the sequential sound of flipping pages. “We know it’s going to happen. My guess, and by the data we have, it’s going to be late afternoon, early evening sometime. We’ve all noticed the changes. Near normal vitals, some of our subjects are experiencing REM, and a few have had body twitches.”

  Ellen snickered as she tried to read ahead. “And the men have lost their erections.”

  All three males in the room snapped at her in unison. “El!”

  Ellen hunched. “Like you didn’t notice.” She lifted her head. “I’m sorry Dean, continue.”

  “Thank you. I’m going to go through this fast so keep up. Now we’ve already prepared the anti-dote. Fifty syringes ready to go. You’ve all been assigned numbers. No hesitation, just injections. Through the clothing and as quickly as you can. Listed on page one is our equipment. Page two.” Dean flipped. “The awakening. Henry has installed that new lock on the outside so they can’t get out once they wake. We have to be the ones that go in there. Assuming they awake when we aren’t here, the oxygen feed should allow them to have enough air. Expect pandemonium. Expect these people to be confused, expect . . .” He noticed Ellen’s hand waving about. “Yes, Ellen?”

  “What about going to the bathroom?”

  “You’ll have time to go to the bathroom.”

  “No not me, them. They’ve been asleep for six years. They’re really gonna have to go bad when they get up. I mean after four hours of sleep, I . . .”

  “Ellen.” Dean tried to remain calm, even though Henry and Johnny giggled like ten year olds. “They are just gonna have to wait until we get them to the hospital.”

  “But that’s a quarter of a mile trudge out of the tunnel to the bus. I know I can barely make it down the steps to brew the coffee first and . . .”

  “Ellen.” Dean snapped. “They’ll deal with it. They’ll have to hold it.”

  “Fine.” Ellen sat back.

  “Continuing. Page three. Transporting.” He raised his eyes to Ellen. “Some of these people will be sick. We’ve all seen the plague. You know what to expect. It’ll be better once we get them to the hospital. I have volunteers lined up. If the ones that are well ask, their belongings, if that’s what’s in the numbered boxes, will be distributed at Joe’s discretion. Frank’s promised us round the clock security out there for our safety in case some of them are insane. The only problem I foresee is that the hospital was placed so far out. Joe is issuing a jeep to our team for the five mile hike.” He noticed Ellen’s hand waving again. “Yes Ellen, what now?”

  “Why did Miguel and his men build it so far away? Do you and Joe really think they’re that much of a physical threat?”

  “No. That pre-fab structure was intended to be a sort of jail. The location is where it is supposed to be set up. Besides, we don’t trust these people yet. We want them far away from the general population. And let’s remember to thank Miguel and his crew for erecting it so fast.” His eyes lifted and he sighed. “Yes El, again. We’d like to get out of here before dawn.”

  “What if I go into labor out there?”

  “We’ll drive you back . . . now, page four . . . What Ellen?!” Dean hand began to crinkle his fresh pamphlet.

  “What if say, Henry has the jeep and we have to wait until he gets back, then that’s . . .”

  “You’ll make it. Don’t worry.” Dean’s patience was wearing thin.

  “Fine. You know how fast I deliver. I just don’t want to have to pull off to the side of the road to drop this . . .”

  “Ellen!” Dean took the three steps necessary to stand directly in front of her. “Please, please, please.” He leaned his face into her and placed his index finger softly on her lips. “Shh.” He smiled when he saw her agree. “Thank you. Page four. Getting them settled. Now once . . .” He saw Ellen stand up. “Where are you going?”

  “Home.” She kissed Johnny on the cheek. “Fill me in.” She told him.

  Dean extended his arm blocking her. “Why?”

  “Dean, it’s late and you are taking way too long with this. I need my rest. I’m pregnant you know.”

  “You can’t go, Ellen. I won’t allow it.”

  “Yes I can.” She moved his arm. “What are you going to do? Kick me off the team? I know this stuff, Dean. We’ve been over it a million times. You’re being boring.” Tapping him on the cheek with a smile she moved and stood by the door.

  Dean, in frustration slammed his hands against his thighs. “Anyone else bored? Anyone else want to leave. By all means if you are, be my guest, be like Ellen. I’m sure this can wait.” He spoke with sarcasm holding his pamphlet holding hand to the door.

  “Thanks, Dean.” Henry stood up and walked by him. “Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, Dean.” Johnny walked by him too.

  With a buzz all three walked out. Not only did Dean lose his team in the middle of a very important review session, but Henry who was supposed to monitor the subjects until eight was gone too, and Dean was stuck there even longer.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  June 1

  Joe tossed his just finished cigarette to the ground and sipped his coffee before blowing out the last of his smoke. He ignored Dean’s drastic coughs, as they stood side by side outside of the holding center waiting for Frank. Glancing down at his watch, then back up, Joe smiled when he saw his son’s figure making his way over the crest. “Here he comes.”

  “It’s about time.” Dean commented. “He looks pissed.”

  Frank coughed and sneezed as he made his approach. He rubbed his hand on the back of his nose, sniffed again then spit. “Fuckin' allergies. Morning Dad.”

  “Dean can give you something for that, Frank.”

  “I’ll live. Ready?” He reached for the door knob. “And why is he here?” Frank asked.

  “Two reasons.” Joe answered. “One, to annoy you and keep you mad. And two, if Chester starts spilling his guts, do you really think you’ll understand what he’s saying.” Joe snuck ahead and opened the door to holding. “And Dean did nail him, so there may be some fear of him also.”

  Dean decided to use the moment to gloat. “Yep. Someone had to come to Ellen’s rescue.”

  Frank snarled at his comment. “You know what you did really wouldn’t bother me if I didn’t have to stare at your name on her cast every day.”

  “She wanted my autograph Frank, what can I say. She was very grateful.”

  “Right Dean.” Frank headed to the hall leading to Chester’s room.

  Joe hurried between the two men halting any further arguments as he did. “All right, you guys know what to do.” Reaching for his keys, Joe unlocked the door, folded his arms and leaned against the wall motioning his hand to the door for Frank. “All yours.”

  Frank knocked once on the closed door. “Chet, it’s time.” He waited for Dean, opened the door, and they both walked in.

  Joe looked at his watch as he saw them enter, he wondered how long it would take.

  “Fuck!” Frank’s deep voice yelled from the room. “
Dad!” He poked his head out, startling Joe.

  “What is it?” Joe asked.

  “He’s dead.” Frank bolted back in the room.

  “What?” Joe raced into Chester’s room, his heart pounded in anger at the vision in front of him. “Son of a bitch.”

  Frank held tightly to Chester’s legs which swayed two feet above the floor, mid-room. He lifted the heavy body up so as Dean could free Chester from the electrical cord in which he used to hang himself. “Dean, you got it?”

  Dean stood on a chair, reaching as high as he could. “One second, Frank. Ready . . .” He loosened the cord from the beam in which it was tied to. “He’s gonna fall . . . Now!”

  Chester’s body tumbled down to Frank, the weight of his lifeless body nearly knocked Frank over.

  “I can’t believe he hung himself.” Frank laid Chester on the floor and immediately pulled the brown cord from him, which seemed to have embedded itself in Chester’s flesh. He felt for a pulse. “I can’t feel anything. You?” He slid out of the way for Dean.

  Dean dropped to his knees and felt. “No. But his color’s still good and his body is warm.”

  “Can we save him?”

  “Let’s try. You do compressions, I’ll do the breaths . . . Joe.” Dean looked up. “In the examining room at receiving is oxygen. Can you . . .”

  “On my way.” Joe hurried from the room.

  “Frank, you ready?” Dean positioned himself.

  “Ready.” Frank cupped his hands over Chester chest.

  Dean placed his fingers on Chester’s nose and tilted back his head. Leaning to his mouth, he stopped.

  “Dean, what’s wrong?” Frank was prepared. “Now’s not the time to be timid.”

  “It’s useless, Frank.” Dean gently released his hold on Chester. “His neck is broken.”

  “Broke?” Frank questioned as he stood.

  “The force of the jolt had to do it. Common.” Slowly, Dean rose.

  “So what information was so . . .” Frank paused. His eyes widened. “Fuck! No! Why now?” After spinning turn of his body, he drove his fist into the aluminum wall causing a thunderous rumble.