Frank waited and listened for his return. During the later portion of his early morning rounds, he heard the sound of the helicopter engines and he saw it over head as the bird rose up and flew off It irritated him that he was not informed of the flight. He knew John Matoose must have had good reason. Perhaps John saw that the fuel order was signed and like Frank, mistrusted George’s intention and hurried to take out the chopper before George could change his mind.
But it was all irrelevant as Frank trotted toward the hanger. He’d given John time to land and he just wanted to get the report. Where and how many SUTs were gathering? It was not a question of maybe. Frank was certain they were there. Like a bad odor that lingered, Frank could smell the trouble in his gut.
And then Frank saw him, walking so calmly from the hanger, clipboard in hand. “George?” Frank ran up to him. “George, where’s John?”
George looked at his watch. “My guess is working. Like maybe you should be.”
“I am working. Who flew the bird? Johnny?”
“Nope.” George walked passed him.
“Who . . . You?” Frank spun around his eyes staring with concern.
“Yes me, Frank. I flew. I flew your little reconnaissance.”
“And?” Frank followed.
“Nothing.” George kept up his pace.
“No there has to be a mistake. George you had to miss . . . did you really look?”
George stopped, curled his lip and turned around. “What the hell did you think I was doing up there Frank? Sightseeing?” George turned again and began to walk.
“Wait . . .” Frank took off after him. “Something’s not right George. George?” Frank wasn’t getting any acknowledgment. So he did a typical Frank thing, he yelled. “George, listen to me!”
“No!” George, finger pointing and with words as loud and as angry as Frank, faced him. “You listen to me! You wasted my time, community time, flight time and you wasted fuel with this half-baked idea of yours. Now get your head out of your ass and start thinking clear. There are no SUTs and those men that you have pulled are needed back full time at their jobs. There’s no reason anymore for extra security.”
“No.” Frank took a step forward. “You are wrong. You aren’t seeing clearly.”
“Back away Frank. I told you. You are over stepping your boundaries. I am not your father!”
“No you aren’t,” Frank’s voice rasped at him. “And I’d be insulted if anyone insinuated you were like him. If you pull my men, you are making a big mistake for this community and you.”
“And you have been warned Frank.” George turned around. “Not one is above ousting. No one.” George stormed away.
Frank could have followed but chose not to. He knew right there and then there was no getting through to George and there had to be a reason why.
^^^^
A lot of things were running through Dean’s mind as he prepared to really view the spinal fluid he took from Joe. He had the microscope hooked up to the computer and he loaded the first sample. Coffee in hand he waited, looking at the screen, wanting to view it. When it popped up, Dean jumped back. “O.K. too close.” Chuckling at himself for hitting the wrong magnification, Dean’s hand retracted. Perhaps the things on his mind were clouding his focus. He didn’t know but he did know when he looked at the sample, something just wasn’t right.
^^^^
At the point where his blood would near boil, Frank headed back to his office. Paper work had to be finished, paperwork George ignored, but Joe would want when he got well. All the way there Frank kept telling himself not to get angry. It was not a day for that. He had to see Reverend Bob in a hour and whether the anger was George provoked or not, he would not carry it with him to the first meeting that was meant to help him get back Ellen. “What the hell are you doing in here?!” Frank asked with annoyance when he stepped into his office.
“El-Ellen said you may-may ne-need me.” Oscar sat behind Frank’s desk.
“She what? And get the fuck out of my chair.” Frank walked over to his desk where Oscar’s work orders were on top. A release from containment and work assignment given, all by Ellen. “No, she didn’t.”
“F-F-file Clerk.” Oscar smiled. “El-Ellen said m-make your life e-easier.” He nodded.
Frank looked for a date but she hadn’t put one in. “She said this, did she?”
“El-Ellen said you l-like me-me.”
“Uh huh.”
Oscar was acting so pleased with Frank. “El-Ellen said you-you’d be pl-pleased.”
“Well El-Ellen . . .” Frank stood up, order in his hand. “Is n-n-nuts.” He stormed to his door. “And she’s d-dicking around at the wrong time.”
The loud slam only made Oscar shrug and he re-took his seat at Frank’s desk.
Frank took only a few steps from his office, mumbling to himself how Ellen was doing it to him on purpose. It was a total payback for having Oscar follow them when they were out beyond the wall. “She said I’d pay,” Frank spoke out loud. “Well, I’ll show her. Just because she never knew . . .” Frank stopped and did an immediate zoom of focus back to his office. “She didn’t know, did she?” A bright smile hit Frank and the bad mood left. He barreled back into his office calling out as he entered. “Oscar!”
Oscar screamed as he jumped up.
“El-Ellen’s is right.” Frank shut the door. “I got a job for you.”
^^^^
Jason Godrichson knew as soon as he walked into Dean’s lab. He stood back for a few minutes watching his post-apocalyptic world colleague idle in perplexity. Dean slumped off to one side, holding up the bangs of his growing hair, lifting himself to look in the microscope then return to slumping again.
Rubbing his chin which was starting to sport what Jason liked to refer to as the Frank and Johnny facial fashion statement, he moved closer to Dean. “I know that look well.”
“You do, do you? What is that look?” Dean turned to him.
“You have stumbled across something that you are finding hard to believe. You keep checking it, second guessing yourself.” Jason pointed to the microscope. “Joe’s sample?”
“Yep. Wanna look?” He reached his hand over to the computer bringing the microscopic image to the screen. “What do you think?”
“Looks normal, however this is not my field.”
“Yes, but.” Dean stood up and pulled out a scan. “Take a look.” He held it up to the light for Jason. “Joe’s CT Scan when he was first brought in. Notice the clouding.” His finger ran over it. “Next one, one week post trauma. Clouding is . . .”
“Nearly gone.” Jason noted as he looked.
“Third. Taken an hour after relapse. Our clouding again.”
“Hence our theory of blood in the cerebral fluid. However . . .” Jason indicated to the screen. “It looks normal.”
“At that magnification it does. Watch.” Dean brought it closer and closer until the image changed. “What do you think?”
“What is it? It isn’t a virus, is it? Or a new form of infection?”
“Nope. I’ve seen this type of structure one too many times.” Dean’s thin finger moved slowly over the object they watched.
“A synthetic?”
“Precisely.”
“Is it in his blood stream?” Jason asked.
“I have to obtain some cultures to be sure.”
“Which brings us to a very viable question, what is Mr. Joseph Slagel doing with synthetic microbes infesting his cerebral fluid?”
“I have a guess on that one.”
“Let’s go look.” Jason waited for Dean to lead the way.
They went into the room. Joe’s bed was propped up and he sat staring forward with his eyes open.
Dean walked in first, shutting the door after Jason had entered. “Hi Joe.” He walked over to the bed. “Sorry we have to disrupt you for a minute.”
“Let’s lean him forward,” Jason suggested.
Dean sat on the bed, holding Joe’s forward falling body
as Jason checked his head.
“I’m not seeing anything.” Jason moved small sections of Joe’s hair at the base of his skull. “I just . . . wait. I got them. Two of them. Look.”
Dean, still holding Joe with the help of Jason, grabbed his glasses from his pocket and looked to where Jason pointed. Two small injection sites. One healed. “This was done on purpose.”
“Knowing that, you at least know what to do. One, it’s a synthetic. We can wait for it to wear off, which it will do eventually barring a repeat injection. A guard on the door perhaps?”
Dean shook his head. “Trust me, that won’t work. I could isolate it.”
“You could do that. Try then to figure out how to beat it. Counteract it. That could take weeks, maybe months. Do we have that much time? Obviously whoever has done this wants Joe down for the count.”
“For many reasons.” Dean sat back down looking at Joe. “I can help you now Joe. I really can help you now. It’s just gonna take time.”
“Dean.” Jason interrupted. “You have an idea who this is, don’t you?”
Dean nodded.
“Then may I give you some advice Doctor. For safety reasons for Joe, you have to not approach this person. And, if you know who it is, you better have enough proof to prove it before you say anything. For Joe and you.”
“Why me?” Dean asked, sounding so surprised.
“As a very objective observer, someone that hasn’t been around Beginnings very long, if I were to sit back watching this thing unfold . . . objectively. And if I were to hear someone did this on purpose if I didn’t know better, my first guess would be you.”
“Me?” Dean didn’t notice, Joe’s eyes shifted. “Why would you say that?”
“From my point of view and from any other community member, the only person in this community capable of making something like this, would be you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“An hour.” Frank griped walking from the living section with Henry. “I take an hour out of my time. Go to his smelly house. Sit there. Pour out my soul. The man tells me he can help me get my wife back. And what do I get? Rev. Bob’s pre-plague world non-best seller, Twelve Steps to Rebuilding a Heavenly Marriage.”
Henry chuckled. “No, Frank you got two copies.”
“Which I had to pay for. With my blood. Church for a month, plus eight hours of his field work. Fuck. And you . . .” Frank looked at Henry. “You said nothing.”
“I was too busy laughing.”
“Yeah, probably because since you did whatever secret you did with my wife, you don’t want me to work it out. Do you?”
“Honestly?” Henry asked.
“Don’t answer that.” Frank stopped in his walking. “What the fuck?”
“What’s wrong?”
Frank pointed. There was a commotion at distribution. Twelve angry people stood screaming at what should have been the door. But Frank didn’t see the door. As he drew closer, he saw it was Greg.
“What’s going on!?” Frank shouted pulling people back from a very frazzled Greg. “Greg, why you pissing everyone off?”
“I’m not pissing everyone off. They’re bitching to me, not at me. Now give me the keys to distribution.”
“Why do you need the keys?”
“Well Frank, it’s locked.”
Frank was shocked to hear that. He looked at Henry then back to Greg. “No way! It’s not even two o’clock.” He reached out his hand to the knob. “Shit.” He pulled out the long key chain and sought out the correct key. “Why is this locked?”
Cole stepped forward. “I was working Frank and George said he wanted to conserve so he shut us down. I asked him about our three o’clock show ups and he said they’ll have to wait until next week.”
“That’s just bullshit.” Frank unlocked the door. “We have plenty of food.” He opened it wide and turned to the small crowd. “Cole is going back to work in there. Go on, there just was some mistake.” Frank stepped away from the door to let them in. “What’s George up . . .”
“Frank!” George stormed forward screaming his name like an out of control parent. “What the hell are you doing!?”
Frank shook his head at Henry. “No, he is not yelling at me like that.” Stern, fearless and annoyed, Frank faced a reddened George. “You made a mistake.” He spoke strongly. “You shut down distribution too early.”
“I shut down distribution on time. We have to conserve. Winter is coming.”
“So none of these people who are scheduled for their pickups can have their food? That’s bullshit.” Frank argued. “They work here, live here, and they earned it. Not to mention we have plenty. We throw out more than we use. You know that.”
“What I do know is that they are now considered thieves. And since you let them in there, I am holding you responsible, Frank. You have to answer for that. You know the rules on stealing.”
Frank stepped closer to him. “Why do you want me out of this community so bad?”
George moved in also. “You’re a pain in the ass. You run your mouth, think you own the place, and make everyone’s life a miserable hell including your wife’s. Why don’t you just move on out of this community? Save us all, Frank, the trouble of throwing you out.”
Henry saw the curling of Frank’s lip. His eyes went to Frank’s hand that seemed to be clenching. Henry knew the reason behind George’s behavior. It was threat. “George.” Henry stepped in between them. “I told Frank to open the door. It was my decision to do so. Not his.”
George stepped back. “You went against the rules, Henry.”
“No George, you did.” Henry said. “You have to clear shit like this with council. You didn’t. I wouldn’t have approved it and neither would Andrea. As a matter of fact I believe you should bring the decision to close distribution early all the time to us. I think you’ll see we want it to stay open till seven again.” Henry took hold of Frank’s arm pulling him away. “Have a good day, George.”
As Frank walked with Henry, his eyes kept going back to George who stood by distribution looking as if he wanted to lash out.
“Let it go, Frank.” Henry pulled him further away. “It won’t be long before Joe is back. I trust Dean is gonna help him.”
“He better.” Frank spoke soft. “That’s the third time this week he threatened to kick me out. And each time he does it . . .” He let out a heavy breath. “I get more and more afraid he’ll find a way to do it.”
^^^^
Somehow it made it easier for Joe. Easier to live like he was, knowing that it wouldn’t be much longer. Dean knew and so did Jason for that matter. Jason still was excluded from any further knowledge of the situation and Joe figured that was good.
He had sat and listened to Dean and Henry talk about what they were going to do. They talked in front of Joe, and to Joe, knowing now that he definitely heard and understood every word they said. It also was frightening for him, frightening because he couldn’t say or warn them about anything he knew. His daily visits from George brought the mental torture, the suspenseful agony of what lay ahead for those who tried to bring George down. Not to mention what else George--in his demented world--was up to.
The worse thing was listening to Dean and Henry speak of how they had pushed Ellen to work on the passwords. The ability to move, to speak, to get out of this lifeless shell Joe was in, was nowhere near as important as it was to stop Ellen from finding out the truth. For finding out the truth not only meant Joe’s freedom but it also meant tragedy to whoever uncovered it.
The most painful experience Joe had ever encountered yet in Beginnings was happening. He had to sit back and watch, full of knowledge that could be helpful. Dangerous knowledge they just needed to know. But there just wasn’t anything he could do about it. For the first time ever, Joe couldn’t help.
^^^^
Ellen caught her breath when Frank opened the door. “I got your message I rushed over as soon as I could.” She stepped inside and shook the chill. “Where�
��s Brian?”
Frank didn’t say anything as he just shut the door and locked it.
“Frank?”
“Brian is at Andrea’s. I didn’t really need you to get him. I wanted to get you here to talk to you?”
“You lied?” Ellen asked.
“Yeah. We have to talk about our marriage.”
“You lied to get me here. Yeah, Frank that’s a good way to show we are building trust again.” Shaking her head Ellen moved to the door.
“No, El. Please. I . . .I . . .” Frank reached to the couch. “I got you a gift.” He handed the book to her. “And I paid for it. You don’t pay for much in Beginnings. Trust me I paid for that.”
Ellen looked at the title. “Frank.”
“No, it’s good. I have one too.” Frank spoke upbeat. “The twelve steps are pretty cool. First step is talking. And it’s vital to build the absence makes the heart grows fonder. He says avoid touching and . . .”
“No.” Ellen handed the book back. “No.”
“El, please.” Frank stopped her from leaving. “What do I need to do? I’ll do it? Do I have to beg? I’ll beg you.”
“You don’t have to do anything, Frank. I destroyed this marriage too,” Ellen said. “I don’t want to be married anymore. I don’t want to be your wife.”
“Why?”
“Why? Ellen repeated in disbelief. “Being your wife means touching you and I don’t want your body anywhere near mine.”
“Oh, my God.” Frank stepped back speaking softly. “That night. El, I swear to you. I swear I am so sorry. I was angry and upset about my Dad. I was hurt and . . .”
“You were punishing me!” Ellen blasted. “You knew exactly what you were doing. Don’t kid yourself and don’t try to kid me! I felt you, Frank. I felt your body move on me. Rigid. Cold. I felt your hand grip my hip so hard it left a bruise.”
A slight gasp of air escaped Frank’s parted lips as he closed his eyes and stepped back.
“Do you understand me now?” Ellen asked.
Frank only nodded slowly.
The Big Ten: The First Ten Books of the Beginnings Series Page 144
