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

by Jacqueline Druga

  “Frank?”

  He closed his eyes and shook his head, stepping back from her. He placed his index finger to her lips as he bit his bottom lip. “Fuck.” He lifted his headset from his neck to his head and adjusted the microphone. “What?”

  Ellen let out a sigh of relief when she knew it wasn’t her.

  Frank pressed to the earphone. “What did you say? You’re breaking up.” His eyes widened and he looked at her. “Where? Shit. I’m on my way.”

  “Frank what’s wrong?”

  “Tower spotted five SUTs crawling their way to the back gate. I have to go.” Frank reached his hand out and touched her face. “Thank you for that.” Hating to leave, Frank backed up and ran from her office. Bolting through the front door of containment he nearly barreled over a frantic looking Melissa.

  “Frank!” She cried to him. “Frank, Marcus is gone. He took off again.”

  Frank stopped running. “When?”

  “While I was in the shower. He got out.”

  “O.K.” Frank took a deep breath. “Go in containment. Greg’s in there. Tell him I said to get a crew from town to look!” He yelled as he moved. Frank knew he had to haul his body fast to the back gate. Running as quick as he could, he was barely to the edge of town when he got another call.

  “Frank it’s Cole. We have a problem.”

  “Shit! What?”

  “That kid of Melissa’s is up here. I stopped everything.”

  “Catch him.” Frank instructed.

  “Catch him? Do you know how fast that thing moves?”

  “Um . . . Cole, arm four men now, include a loaded M-203 and send them to the back gate, and tell them stay low in back formation. We have five SUTs at the back gate. But hold off on the gas until my call. I’m almost at the field.” Frank could see it in the distance.

  “What about this baby we’re chasing.”

  “Get a net or something I don’t care. But whatever you do, contain him to the fields.”

  Another minute or two running and Frank would hit the field. He had two situations out of control, and which one would climax first was the question on Frank’s mind.

  In the quiet clinic hospital room of Joe’s, George held up a syringe. “You have to love that baby Joe. You really do.” Pushing the plunger, allowing for a drop or two to spill out over the needle, George walked slowly behind Joe. “Of course my forces are helping out immensely in the distraction also.” With a smile, a huge smile, he injected the needle into the back of Joe’s neck.

  Frank checked his revolver in his running stride to the field. He would see how the Marcus situation was going and then he’d hit the back gate with his men. As he approached the field house he could see in the distance, the moving corn stocks and heads going in and out. Marcus’ name was being called repeatedly.

  Frank spotted the blondeness of his hair. “Cole!”

  Cole raised his head. “We can’t find him.”

  “Fuck.” Frank ran out to them. “Where did you last see him?”

  “Scurrying somewhere in this area.”

  “Are the men at the . . .” Frank’s head lifted to the sound of gun fire. “Son of a bitch.”

  “I’ll take care of this, go up there.” Cole said.

  “I have to.” Frank turned and as he did, he heard one of the men shouting ‘I see him’. Searching to where they indicated, Frank saw in horror as the speeding, moving blur headed straight in the direction he was going--the back gate.

  Through the commotion and hustling in the search for Marcus and the attack, Dean did his normal clinic routine. He began prepping to move patients to the safety of containment or the tunnels. Heading into his lab for the patient evacuation sheet, he stopped cold when he heard Henry’s frantic call.

  “Dean! Dean, something’s wrong with Joe.” Henry ran to him.

  Flying past Henry, Dean raced into Joe’s room. In the chair, Joe was slumped over. “Shit!” Dean tried to lift Joe, as he did he noticed the newest injection site on his neck.

  “Dean?” Henry came into the room. “What happened to him?”

  “He got him, Henry, he got him again. He used the distraction with Marcus and the SUTs and he came in here.”

  “No.” Henry helped Dean move Joe to bed. “He has to be stopped, Dean.”

  “We will. We just have to prove it’s him doing this.” Dean covered Joe’s body with a blanket. “I’m sorry about this, Joe. I really am.”

  “Dean, what about Frank? It’s gonna kill him to come in here and see this.”

  “Yeah, I know. But Frank thinks it’s a virus. That works in our favor. If he gets wind it’s George, Frank will just kill him. And then we’re screwed, because Frank will be gone.” Dean looked one more time to Joe, really feeling bad that he was allowing this to happen.

  ^^^^

  Frank raced. The thoughts of the SUTs, the firing between them and his men, and Marcus headed straight into it, cluttered his mind. Then it hit him as he neared the back gate area. The perimeter. Seeing the baby make his less than a straight line run, Frank’s heart raced. Straight to the fence he crawled, straight in between the line of flying bullets. He had no choice. “Down the back gate.” Frank called to security as he watched a child that moved faster than he. “Hold your fire!” Frank shouted to the men as he ran up behind them. The eight second delay on the fence would take too long for the child that neared it. “Hold your fire!” Frank leaped over their heads holding out his revolver as he did so. Aiming forward to the switch box, he fired twice downing the perimeter with sparks and smoke just as Marcus’ hands touched forward gripping the fence. He rolled on to the ground. “Cover me.”

  He crawled on his stomach to the child who sat up and looked out the fence like he was peering through his crib. The gunfire raged above his head, coming from in front of him and behind him. He could see the eyes of one of the SUTs as he closed in on Marcus. Just as his hand reached forward for the little foot, he saw the boots emerge from the trees and a rifle pointed at him. Without hesitation, Frank fired once, hitting the SUT in the head and dropping him.

  His fingers grabbed hold of the foot and he dragged the child to him. Scooping him up, Frank rolled with Marcus cradled to his chest away from the fence and into a standing position. He charged forward out of the way of his firing men and away from the fence. As he jumped towards to the safety of the small grade, he felt the searing, burning pain hit his left thigh. He dropped to the ground behind his men. “I’m hit.” He looked at his bleeding thigh. “Here.” He handed the baby to a shooting Doug. “Take him and run. Get him out of here now.”

  Doug took Marcus--who seemed to be having fun--and rolled down the grade running back toward the fields.

  Frank grabbed the M-203 and loaded it with the chemical can, waiting and watching for Doug to be far enough away. Once he was, Frank turned, “Save you’re ammo.” He told his men, and he raised his weapon, aiming out. Finger to the trigger, he peered through the scope. With the depressing of the trigger and a loud popping sound, Frank released the chemical. The canister could not be seen as it left the gun, but the whistling of it could be heard as it fell into the trees. No more than ten seconds passed and the firing on the other side of the back gate stopped.

  Taking a moment to catch his breath and let his heart rate slow from the rush of excitement, Frank laid on his back.

  “You O.K.?” One of his men asked.

  Frank looked to his thigh. A huge circle of blood formed on the pant leg. “Yeah, flesh wound.” He checked out the seeping of his injury. It didn’t look too bad. “But they fuckin’ ruined my pants.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  The heaviness, the lack of control over his eyelids started to fade. Joe, who had been struggling for some time to open them, did. When his vision came into focus, he wished it hadn’t. George stood there. Joe watched the view of the ceiling lower as his bed was raised to an upright position.

  “Right on time, Joe.” George stepped back folding his arms. “Got
to hand it to you, my goodness do you look like shit.” He lifted his pant leg and sat on the edge of the bed. “Created quite the diversion today. It almost was better than anticipated. Frank got shot. No, no, don’t concern yourself he’s fine. But not for long. My plan is coming along nicely. I have my forces building and no one knows. I’ve been keeping them fed and again, no one knows.” George stood up walking to the foot of the bed leaning in. “Frank is an obstacle. I am very close to having him gone. Once he’s gone, the rest falls into place. Dean and Ellen are working on the password. BOOM! Then all that’s left will be Henry.” George shook his head. “Poor Henry, I liked him at first. Now he’s on my nerves. Gone.” His hand flew about. “But Frank.” George looked down at his watch. “He has a short fuse. That’s works in my favor. Pretty soon he should be igniting that fuse again. If this doesn’t do it, next week’s attack will. ‘Cause you know he’ll blame me. Blame me, come after me, and then he’s out. He really doesn’t have the proof to back his words or actions.” George tapped him on the foot. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and my men will actually win their attack. Not that I think they will, but I’m keeping my fingers crossed.” George showed Joe his two twisted together fingers. They matched his mind. “Maybe I can distract Frank enough to let them get ahead of Beginnings. Heck, maybe I’ll even get really lucky and Frank will get killed next week . . .” George’s expression dropped when he saw Joe’s eyes shift almost in a panic. Shifting his own eyes to the door, he saw what Joe was trying to do. Trying to warn the innocent that just walked in. “Josh.” George spoke softly and calm.

  Josh stared wide eyed at George and backed up.

  “Not so fast.” George stood up, placing a firm hold on the boy’s shoulder. “Coming to see Pap?”

  Josh tried to move. George’s grip was tight and fear of the leader filled him.

  “Take a walk with me, Josh. You and I have to talk.” George holding tightly to Josh’s shoulder clenched his fingers into Josh’s skinny arm. He stopped at the door looking back at Joe. “God, is my luck with me.”

  Joe could only see so far and George was gone. Filled with total agony and frustration, Joe closed his eyes and prayed. There was nothing else he could do but pray to God that Frank caught up to George before Josh paid the price for so innocently walking in a room at the wrong time.

  ^^^^

  “All fixed.” Henry spoke as he walked into Frank’s office. “How’s that leg?”

  “Better.” Frank rocked back and forth in the chair. “Will it hold?”

  “I’m hoping. It’s not the right switch box but maybe if you put an extra tower guard on tonight and a back gate guard on, we’ll be fine until I make a new one.”

  “Good thing you can do that shit.” Frank stood up.

  “Hey, I’m Henry. What can I say?” Just as Henry was going to sit, Cole walked in. “Hi Cole.”

  “Frank.” Cole looked desperate. “We have a couple of problems.”

  “A couple?” Frank raised his eyebrows. “What are they?”

  “I was discussing with Dan about the scouting party. He told me that George told him that it was canceled.”

  “Mistake.” Frank waved his hand. “No way. I wouldn’t cancel it, and neither would George, especially after today. No, don’t worry about it. If asshole George did, he’ll change his mind. He better. What’s the other problem?”

  “George again. I can’t get into distribution. The locks were changed.”

  Frank quickly shifted his view to Henry. “Did you do that?’

  Henry shook his head. “I don’t know anything about it.”

  Frank looked back to Cole. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. I got that straight from the horse’s mouth. Take a look.” He handed Frank his clipboard. “Yesterday I was told by George to cut rations. I told him there was no reason to. He said cut them or don’t distribute. I refused. Guess what?”

  Frank reviewed the distribution order while trying to remaining calm. He reached into his desk, grabbed his huge key chain and hooked it on his belt. “We’ll see about this. Let’s go.” He walked ahead of Cole and out his door.

  As a safeguard, Henry though busy, followed behind.

  ^^^^

  It wasn’t how cute Dean looked in those baggy jeans he wore, that raced through Ellen’s mind as she walked into the cryo-lab. Though it did cross it, the way he had to keep them on him with a belt the same as she did. And she did snicker at him reaching up like a little kid to things placed too high above his head. But what took over her thoughts was why in the world was Dean so engrossed over a bunch of motionless rabbits. “Hey Dean.” Ellen snuck up behind him.

  “Hi El.” He opened the second cage checking out its occupants.

  “Boy, I have to tell you.” Ellen peered over his shoulder. “Whatever you gave these rabbits sure did the trick. The last one is starting to quiver. After effects or is he coming to?”

  “I think.” Dean looked into the last cage. “Coming to. He had the least amount.”

  “This stuff is really cool. You know what we should do?”

  “I’m afraid to ask.” Dean kept busy, examining his friends.

  “We should give a dose to Henry and put him somewhere really weird. Or better yet. We should give a dose to Jenny Matoose, undress her and put her in bed with Os-Oscar. Let her wake up next to him.”

  Dean started to laugh. “That’s funny, El. But the attack put us behind.” He pointed to the computer. “Work.”

  “Mr. Serious, I see.” Ellen headed over to the computers. “Hey, Dean? Do you think Frank got aroused when Jenny Matoose exposed herself to him? She said he did and plans to do it again. Do you?”

  “Do I what?”

  “You aren’t paying attention to me.” She opened the dictionary and began to type. “Think Frank got aroused?”

  “No.” Dean shook his head then pulled a rabbit from the fourth cage. “I think Frank was probably overwhelmed at the moment by the abundance of flesh that was standing before him.” He heard Ellen swear. “Wrong word?”

  “Wrong word, strike one. Back to Jenny. She tells me that she truly expected Billy to be a lot more . . . son of a bitch.”

  “Strike two?”

  “Yep.”

  Dean knew if there was a third strike, he’d hear the worse language yet. But he was getting used to it. He waited for it. Momentarily, it would happen.

  “Oh yes, I’m in.”

  “No way?” Dean ran back. “What did you type in?”

  “Indonesia. Go figure. Hey want to guess what it’s about?”

  “Um . . .” Dean took a moment. “Food?”

  “Let’s see.” Ellen waited for the file to appear. “Dean. Oh, my God. You’re right.”

  “They really are too easy with these. Print that up.”

  “Easy for you. You aren’t pounding in the words. I’m getting good at spelling though.” Ellen started the printing sequence, cringing at the loud printer. “God, these take forever to print up.”

  “You’re right.” Dean walked to the printer, adjusting the paper so it came out correctly. “Hey, while this is printing, you want to take a ride with me?”

  “Gees Dean where? The store?” Ellen giggled.

  “No. Jason has more rabbits. You up to it? We can check out that time machine.” He raised his eyebrow.

  “Sure why not. I’ll see if he can find time to fix my watch, too.”

  “El . . . never mind. Let’s go.” Letting the rest of the report print up. Dean walked with Ellen from the lab.

  ^^^^

  Frank banged the padlock on the door in frustration. “Son of a bitch, he did change the lock.”

  “Problem?” George poked his head between Frank and Cole.

  Henry stepped in, reaching out. “George you can’t change the locks on the doors without council approval.”

  “Yeah I can.” George pulled from Henry’s grip. “Cole. Did you see my changes on the food distribution?”

  Cole shook his he
ad. “George I have to disagree. We have plenty, more than we need. There isn’t any reason to cut rations. I won’t do it.”

  “Then you don’t get in.” George stepped back.

  Cole turned to Frank who seemed to be turning red. “Frank. What am I supposed to do? I have twenty-two people showing up in an hour for their rations. I can’t get in here.”

  “Step back.” Frank moved Cole from the way, pulled out his revolver and fired once at the padlock. “Now you can.” He dropped it to the ground, opening the door to distribution. “George, next time, you seek council approval first. Locks are my division, not yours.” Frank’s angry words spoke to him.

  “Then the next time you want supplies to take a group of men out on a goose chase, you get my approval.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Frank stepped to him.

  “Your scouting party. It’s a waste.”

  “Excuse me!” Frank shouted to a walking away George. “Asshole!”

  Henry cringed. “Frank, please.” He held his hand out.

  Frank moved Henry’s hand from his way, marching to George. “Asshole. I’m talking to you. Did you miss what happened today? Five SUTs. Five showed up.”

  “Then you probably took out the rest of them. No scouting party.” George stated.

  “Bullshit. That party will go out!”

  “Then it will go out without supplies!” George’s voice was rough and raspy as he held his hand out firm in a point. “Back away, Frank. I run the community, which means I run you! And if you don’t watch your step . . .”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Frank’s head bobbed back and forth. “You’re gonna kick me out. Old story. Get your shit together.”