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

by Jacqueline Druga

  “This is really nice . . .” Frank flipped it over and looked at it. “You can’t give her this. It’s mean.”

  “Oh, look at you being Mr. Sensitive.” Ellen took it back. “Like you care.”

  “El, John is my friend. My wife can’t go running around insulting his wife by giving her a book called, Ten Steps to Losing that Baby Weight.”

  “I’m not insulting her, I’m deeply concerned about her. Perhaps I should just write my own diet book. I’ll call it, Torture, the ultimate diet.”

  “It’s not funny.”

  “No, it’s not. But this book is. And . . . once again, my shopping trip. I think I’ll bask in the old world feel of it.” Dramatically sighing, Ellen returned to her knapsack and dumped out the contents. She shook her head at the red ‘G’ string.

  Frank gave up. He went back to sitting on the rock. “El, if you’re gonna make me watch you do this. Can you at least lose the price tag.” He watched her rip it off and toss it. “Thank you.”

  ^^^^

  The pitiful evening meal that George consumed made his stomach gnaw. It made him wish for the food that he’d come to take advantage of in Beginnings. It made him want, even so much more, to just go home. It would be so easy, leaving the installation, go home, say that he’d escaped, take out Joe and proceed from there. But he just couldn’t. The project was getting a struggle it didn’t expect.

  George never thought that would happen. He always figured that once the top minds awoke that the plan would proceed smoothly. But as the years wore on, and George waited for the plague’s cure, he watched Joe gain more and more control over the routine of Beginnings. He watched the people grow to trust and place their every faith in whatever he chose to do as if he were some sort of God. Had George even slightly perceived it going in that direction, he himself would have bid for the leadership role in the community. It was too late. No one in Beginnings even looked to George as a leader as they did Joe. But George knew they would soon, they’d have to. Someone, someone they trusted would have to step in and take control once Joe took a fall. That someone would be he.

  With the probability of the choppers being able to fly, fast approaching, George had to move his plan in a quicker motion. The entire new brigade of forty men would go fifty miles past Denver to Greeley as planned. They would leave at first light, driving straight there. Once in Greeley, they would fan back towards Colorado Springs. There was no way that Frank and Ellen had made it to Greeley. And the possibility of catching them was great. He hoped the new troop and the one already out there would somehow merge in their search going north and south. Finding in between them, Frank and Ellen.

  His orders were simple enough. Find Frank and Ellen, waste no time on anyone else. Ensure themselves that they had the correct couple. Take Ellen, bring her back. And when, and only when they had Ellen safely from Frank’s way. Take Frank out.

  George knew as he made it back to his office that evening, that his plan was not fool proof. George knew who he was dealing with. It was a race against time, a race against the Beginnings’ choppers. And even though Frank was only one man, he was going to give one hell of a fight to anyone, no matter how many, that tried to take Ellen.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  August 19

  Like an expectant father awaiting the impending birth of his child, Joe stood outside that hanger doorway. The hours since Joe’s early morning progress check had slipped by so quickly, that without hesitation, it suddenly was approaching late morning.

  Every time he stopped by the hanger, Joe was told the same thing. ‘Soon, we’re close.’

  Then, it was if the powers that be, reached inside of Joe and pulled out from him all of his tension. Joe’s body nearly dropped in relief when from inside the hanger the sound of fluttering engines were heard. The full blow gunning engines were almost muffled by the loud cheers that followed.

  “Pap!” Johnny flung open the hanger door. “They’re ready.” A huge grin fell upon his face.

  “Yes.” Joe clapped his hands. “Load ‘em John and get ‘em out.”

  “You got it, Pap!”

  ^^^^

  With a deep swallow and a heavily embedded vision of his grandson walking tall, toward the helicopter, Joe stood on the landing pad watching the two choppers lift slowly from the ground. A sense of pride bestowed him, pride in his community, pride in his family. The wind from the propellers tossed dirt about violently into his eyes that he desperately tried to shield as he stood there. With every foot that they raised to the clear blue sky above, Joe prayed. He prayed to God with his soul and with his heavy heart, that the mission he observed happening, would be a successful one.

  Slowly the helicopters faded from his eyesight. And soon the sound of the choppers that began to soften in distance, would disappear completely leaving a strong silence. Leaving Joe to wait until that moment, the moment he prayed for, when he’d hear his grandson’s voice over the radio saying ‘Pap, we got ‘em. We’re on our way.’

  ^^^^

  Though they had a lifetimes worth of moments, the one that had just transpired between her and Frank would forever stay with her, perhaps as one of her favorites. Ellen thought about that moment as she sat on the rocky beach not ten feet from Frank, watching him dress so close to the water’s edge. A cooling shade came from the trees that over powered in height and thickness, just behind her. The lake, so big, so blue, was their afternoon stop. The August sun had beaten them down, the heat was almost intolerable.

  The lake was warm, yet it cooled them, refreshed them for the aching journey and long hot walk they had before them. Ellen could honestly tell herself, she loved what they just experienced. The feeling of freedom, alone in the wide openness. A non-sexual, intimate moment that was filled with an innocence her and Frank had never shared. The lake experience was time that--as long as they couldn’t leave the sanctity of Beginnings--she’d have to etch in her mind. It saddened Ellen that it took such a life’s tragedy for her to finally appreciate the beauty of something that always had been available to her before the plague. A moment in the sun, in a world she somehow forgot existed.

  Frank looked tired as she watched him finish dressing. Strapping his shoulder harness tightly to him, checking his revolver, looking like he was going off to battle. Frank knew she was watching him dress, and he basked in that. Doing those little Frank poses that made her laugh. But all good things had to come to an end. Ellen knew that when she saw Frank moved to gather up their stuff. She stood to her feet, her entire body felt stiff.

  Frank stared at the gear, and to the K-Mart knapsack that now sat with the stuff he had to carry. He shook his head, figuring he’d be nice and at least hand it to her. Just as he began to grasp their belongings, his heart sank and his fingers released them in fear, when he heard Ellen shriek. The split second it took for him to turn around, seemed like a lifetime. And his ultimate fear had happened when he took in the vision before him, and Ellen was gone. “El!”

  “Frank, help!” Her cries came from the distance, echoing through the trees.

  “Oh God!” Reaching for his revolver, he charged forth to the woods. “Keep calling . . .” On his fourth step forward it hit him. He saw the brownness of it striking down, and he felt the burning stinging crack of it to his face. Frank’s head jerked back, it took all that he had to keep his balance and his focus. The pain was strong, the blood that poured in his eyes did not block the vision of the soldier holding the log in front of him. Another attempt for his revolver again went futile when he saw the soldier swing again. Frank reached out his hand stopping it, grabbing it. With his strength in his favor, Frank snatched the log from the soldier’s grip, reared it back and pummeled it into the target face. The blood from his breaking nose sprayed forth to Frank.

  He knew he didn’t have time to waste. He could still hear Ellen screaming. Another step brought an accosting from behind. An arm, tightly choke holding around his neck. Frank, still trying to run, gripped the body that the arm
belonged to, flipped him over his shoulder, clasped his hair, grabbed the knife that he had strapped to his thigh and quickly slit his assailant’s throat.

  Returning his knife, he rushed forward, over the body, to the trees, emotional to Ellen’s cries. Frank readied his weapon tightly in his hand, and barely slowed down when two more soldiers, aiming at him appeared. Frank clicked back, fired once, then twice, taking them out. And in a backwards run, just to be safe, he fired a third time at his very first assailant who lay bleeding and motionless on the ground. “Ellen!” He called out his loudest, his heart beating strong.

  “Frank, help me. Help me!” Ellen sounded so far.

  “Keeping calling me! Keep calling me!” Frank followed her voice.

  “Frank!” Ellen could hear him too, as they dragged her, knees running across the rough brush, through the woods. “Frank!”

  Then suddenly she heard a crack, one soldier suddenly released her, she used it to her advantage, and took off running. What happened she didn’t know. She just ran. “Frank!” Before she could cry out again, a hand grabbed her mouth and pulled her off into the other direction, bringing her down to the ground.

  “Shh!” Oscar held his finger to her lips. “Hi-hide.”

  Ellen’s lips quivered in bewilderment and her head shook as she held herself by her hands and knees. “What?” She spoke softly as Oscar knocked her to the ground, covering her with himself as the soldiers ran past them. The Oscar grabbed her hand and ran the other way with her.

  “Ellen!” The dead silence of the woods frightened Frank like nothing had ever done before. Frank breathed heavier, trying so hard to hear something. Anything. He had lost her call, and lost the direction she was in. With bent knees he brought his hands to his head, screaming out with his every emotion from the depths of his soul. “Oh, God answer me! Ellen!” As he started to move again, he heard the footsteps. They grew louder, and louder and headed in his direction. He could see the branches move about, and darting figures rustling the leaves. Wiping the blood from his eyes to see clearer, he held up his gun pointing. With a long breath, his trigger finger relaxed. Ellen barreled from the trees. Leaping right behind her, Oscar.

  “Frank. They’re coming.” She charged to him, and he quickly shoved her behind his back.

  Frank wiped his eyes again and aimed at the four soldiers who ran after them. It took only four shoots and it was over. He waited to see if he saw any more, and he let his arm drop in relief. Frank could hear his heart beating in his ears as he turned around to Ellen. “I thought I lost you.” He placed his hands, still holding the gun, to her face and kissed her. “I’m so sorry.” He embraced her.

  “It’s not your fault.” She had never felt him shake, but Frank trembled as he held her. “It’s all right Frank, I’m fine. I’m fine.” For him, Ellen wanted to seem so unaffected.

  Releasing her slightly from his firm embrace, Frank swallowed and stared at her, assuring himself she was all right. “We have to get our stuff and go.” He grabbed her hand and led her.

  “Frank, it’s unreal. Os-Oscar got me away from them. I don’t . . .”

  “Thanks.” Frank lifted his chin to Oscar. Still pulling Ellen to the beach, Frank didn’t say another word. When they reached their gear, he began to pick it up. “We have to move, there may be more.”

  “Frank, stop.” Ellen grabbed his hand. “You’re bleeding really bad. Let me close that.”

  “Fine.” Frank dropped the gear and sat down. He needed a moment anyhow to catch his bearings. “I’m glad you’re all right.”

  “Thanks to you and Os-Oscar.” She opened the duffle bag for the medical supplies. She pulled out a cloth from the pouch and showed it to Oscar. “Could you wet this for me?”

  “Sure-sure.” Oscar took it and ran to the lake.

  “Oh, Frank.” Ellen looked at the depth of his gash next to his eye. “This is bad. I’ll clean this and put a topical on it.”

  “Just stitch it El. No topical. We have to move.”

  “O.K.” Ellen shrugged and pulled out the sutures. She saw Oscar rush back and hand her the cloth. “Thanks.” She wiped the blood from Frank. “I’m still in shock. I don’t know where Os-Oscar came from.”

  “He’s been following us since Bob’s Good’s.” Frank shifted his eyes to Oscar. “Good job back there, pal.” Frank held a thumbs up. “I owe you.”

  “You knew?” Ellen started to stitch. “When?”

  “El, Please. I knew all along. He was following us.”

  Oscar edged his way in. “Frank gave-gave me a j-j, a job.”

  “He did, did he. Frank?” Ellen asked.

  Frank shrugged. “I told him to hold up the rear. I fed him. He just had to keep his distance. Man, I thought for sure you saw him in K-Mart.”

  “Wait a second. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because, you’d want him to hang with us El. And you know how I feel about survivors and . . OW!” He felt her tug on the stitches--hard.

  “All done.” She glared at him. “You are so mean.”

  “Me?” Frank grunted and touched his throbbing injury. “You fuckin' killed me with those stitches. And . . .” He pointed as he walked to the gear. “You got that diet book for Jenny Matoose, don’t talk to me about mean.” He complained, picked up the stuff and headed toward the woods. “Let’s go!”

  Oscar moved with Ellen. “J-Jenny?”

  “Matoose, yes. You’ll love her. She’s gonna be your new girlfriend in Beginnings.” She saw Frank hit the edge of the woods. “Frank! Wait.” Legs injured, Ellen sped to catch up.

  ^^^^

  The woods always seemed before to hold a sense of safe-haven for Frank and Ellen whenever they trudged through them. They didn’t really have a choice. It was either walking through the woods, trying to stay hidden within the towering trees, or walk the open field that lay parallel fifty yards away.

  Frank stayed armed through the journey. He walked forwards, backwards, taking in everything his peripheral vision inhibited. His eye was feeling better as they moved on. He tried not to let the occasional conversation between Ellen and Oscar bother him. He did however, have to remind them to keep it below a whisper.

  “B-blood.” Oscar pointed to Ellen. “Does-does, it hurt?”

  “It’s getting there. I’m trying to ignore it.”

  Frank glanced at Ellen’s legs. All the brush burns, and cuts from the rocks and branches began to bleed from her movement. Her legs from the knees down were covered in her seeping blood. He felt like a heel for not even noticing it sooner. “Did they drag you?”

  “Did you think I’d go freely.”

  “We’re gonna have to stop and clean you up before they get infected.”

  “They’ll be fine. They’ll hurt like hell tomorrow. Os-Oscar did you ever . . .”

  “Shh . . .” Frank needed complete silence. “Listen.” Faint in the distance he heard it, the flutter of helicopters and growing louder. With a smile he turned to Ellen. “Beginnings.”

  “Are you sure? Maybe it’s the other side?” She watched him reach into the ammo bag.

  “No, if they had chopper they would have used them sooner. I have to signal them or they’ll never find us. As soon as this goes up we make a run for it to the clearing.” Frank aimed the flare gun up and east toward the open area just beyond the woods. Knowing, along with Beginnings, he may have been alerting the other side as well, he fired. The bang and whistle meant the signal was sent.

  Cowering, with her ears covered from the noise, she felt Frank’s tug to move. Rising up, and feeling as if in slow motion, she caught the horror of what appeared to be a wall of soldiers racing toward them, weapons high. “Frank!”

  Frank running, looked back at her, as his eyes caught what she had seen. “Run!”

  They raced, the three of them, as fast as they could. Leaping fallen trees, making it though the branches to the brightness of the open field. Frank held tightly to Ellen’s arm, pulling her every step of the way. She kept
up well. As they neared the edge of the forest the bright sun, the unshaded, unprotected area was their guiding light.

  They were vulnerable and they knew it as they darted into the field with the high waving grass. Grass burnt brown from the sun, weeded grass standing tall, blanketed the hillside they now so diligently chartered. The grass whipped at them, stung them as they ran through it, inhibiting them to reach their full speed.

  Their followers drew nearer.

  “Frank, there’s so many.” Ellen cried out as they ran.

  “Don’t look back just run.” Frank tugged her harder. “Oscar drop the rolls.” Frank not letting go of his ammo bag, dropped everything else, and so did Oscar.

  The soldiers George had sent grew closer, they were joined by another squad that George had not given direct orders to. This other squad . . . proceeded to fire.

  The cracking of the guns far away coming at Ellen, Frank and Oscar raised their adrenaline. Yet they couldn’t move any faster through nature’s foliage. The noise level in the field rose--firing guns, the rustling of dried grass, heavy breathing, and helicopter engines.

  Nearing the top, a fierce wind caught them whipping dust and leaves at them. And slowly, emerging up from over the crest of a further hill, seemingly from the horizon, came Beginnings. They rose up loudly and with rapid machine gun fire.

  Johnny veered the helicopter sideways to the right. “John, more militants following them to the left.”

  “Got em in my view.” John Matoose answered. “You lead Frank off in your direction, we’ll hold steady and fire.” John gunned from his seat as Greg, perched through the open side door of the helicopter fired away picking them off, mutilating his targets with each fierce bullet.

  Johnny hovered his chopper off fifty yards from Frank and Ellen. He and Dan noticed they were spotted. “You see ‘em?”

  “They’re coming.” Dan shouted through his occasional gun fire. He aimed off to the left to the soldiers that raced toward Frank and Ellen and the third he didn’t recognize.