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

by Jacqueline Druga

  Josh gave a thumbs up to Frank.

  Ellen waited until the door shut and looked at Dean. “What’s up?”

  “I need to . . .”

  “Dad!” Billy called out, “Alex is really getting bad.”

  Dean looked to a frantically wiggling Alexandra. “Alex, go to the bathroom now.”

  “No,” Alexandra answered hard, “I don’t have to.”

  “Yes, you do,” Dean argued. “Go.”

  “No.” She shook her head.

  “Alex,” Dean scolded.

  “Dean,” Ellen snapped, “why are you yelling at her? She said she doesn’t have to go.”

  “Yes, she does El,” He pointed. “Why else is she dancing around for no reason?”

  “Maybe she has Tarantism.”

  “She doesn’t have Tarantism,” Dean’s voice raised in volume with every word. “She has the same stupid problem you do where she waits until the last minute!”

  “Why are you yelling!”

  “Because you didn’t talk to Frank!”

  “I couldn’t. I tried.” Ellen lowered her tone. “I just . . . he said some things and I felt bad.” She saw the glare in Dean’s eyes. “No, Dean. He’s my husband. What do you expect me to do? Just up and leave him? I can’t. I can’t do that to Frank.”

  Dean had a sarcastic chuckle to him. “Yeah, but you did it to me.”

  “Fuck you.” Ellen spun and walked to the door. “I refuse to play these stupid get even with Frank games of yours.”

  “I’m not the one playing games,” Dean charged, “you are. You can’t have us both, El.” He grabbed the door as she opened it. “You can’t. You have to choose. And if you don’t choose soon, I won’t be a choice.”

  “I have news for you, Dean. You really aren’t a choice. When it boils down to it, Frank’s my husband. What are you?” With her hard words she stormed out with a slam of the door.

  “Damn it.” Dean’s fist went to the door and the second he leaned into it he knew fromhe laughter from Josh, the complaining moan from Billy, and the wail if a whine from Alexandra. Releasing a moan of his own, Dean turned around to see what he expected. Alexandra standing soaking wet. “Aw, Alex.”

  “It’s all your fault.” Alexandra marched in an awkward strained manner to the steps. “You yelled at my mother!”

  “I can’t win with the women in my life.” Dean reached for the door. “I can’t win. Josh, I’m going to the meeting.”

  “Spot!” Josh pointed to the carpet. “Spot.”

  Dean took a deep breath. “I’ll get it when I get back. I won’t be long. Just mark it so I knew where it is.” He walked out.

  Nodding his understanding of the request, Josh bent down, grabbed the paint set, and with the red paint, proudly marked a big ‘X’ on the wet portion of the carpet.

  ^^^^

  Joe paused in his meeting comments to the crowed room when Ellen stormed into the social hall. “Ellen, we just started talking about . . .”

  “Sorry.” She walked to the three tables joined together and pulled out a seat between Frank and Henry.

  Twitching his head, Joe started to continue again, but stopped--again, when Dean walked in.

  “Sorry,” he spoke in the same pissed of manner and sat across from Ellen.

  Frank, priding himself on being not only the ‘Chosen’ but perceptive as well, couldn’t help but notice they seemed mad. “Dean, what did you do to my wife?”

  “Shut up Frank,” Dean snapped.

  “Don’t,” Joe warned. “We’re here for a meeting. A short one. No off the subject stuff. Now, back to what we were talking about. CDC Mobile lab search is slated for the 27th. John, you’re set for that. What about our motorcycles? They’ll be ready for tomorrow’s mock run?”

  “Barring . . .” John Matoose gave a stare to Ellen, “barring any inane interruptions to be interrogated.” He looked back to Joe. “Yeah. First thing. Then we’ll look them over again after the run.”

  “Good,” Joe said. “We’ll do the mock run, having Dean and Frank ride them.”

  Frank snickered at that, “Dean on a bike? I’m not gonna have to teach him like a five year old, am I?”

  Dean shook his head, a sarcastic look on his face. “No Frank, I think I can ride. But if you do have to teach me anything, I’m sure it will pale in comparison to my library experience with you.”

  Joe wanted to end it before anymore could be said. “Boys. We aren’t here to bicker. Work together, end of discussion. Now the motorcycle issue is settled. Onto tomorrow’s mock run.” He saw Ellen raising her hand. “This isn’t a classroom Ellen, what is it?”

  “I was just thinking when they go to the library they should pick up some books on paranormal activity.”

  After a fluttered of his eyes, Joe had to ask., “Why do we need books on that subject?”

  “We have a ghost in Beginnings,” Ellen stated matter-of-fact.

  “Ellen, we don’t have a ghost in Beginnings.” Joe had a bark to him.

  “But what about . . .”

  “No.” Joe held up his hand. “No going off the subject. There is no ghost. Quit listening to Henry.” With a huff, Joe continued, “The mock run. Tomorrow, Frank, Dean, is very important. We’re going to send you with a team. But use the time and trip wisely. I want the two of you to find where you are supposed to go, so you don’t look like idiot tourists when you arrive back in time. Find a place that we can fax to and get the number. Try to stay around the library. Practice being not separated. All we need is you two running amuck in Miles City, four years pre-plague. Now just so everyone knows exactly what we are doing, Jason will go over their agenda.”

  Jason gathered his notes, sitting up in his chair. “I will send the three of them back four years, three weeks pre-plague. When they get to Miles City, Dean will go straight to the library and Frank will go to the designated pay phone, call Joe and give him the information. The background checks will take about an hour and a half. That’s all the time Dean has to get the info. So, after the call, Frank will go to the library and help out Dean.” Jason shook his head ‘no’ to Dean who started to laugh. “There’s a lot of copies to be made and information to be found. After giving Joe enough time, Frank will call him again to make sure the information is ready. Joe will fax it. Dean and Frank will get the fax, pick up mine and Joe’s request, and head back. They should be in that time frame three and a half hours tops. Henry, bring a good book.”

  Ellen waved her hands about. “Wait a second. What little request are they getting? Why do you two get a little request and not us?”

  “Because El,” Dean barked at her. “We aren’t shopping for all of you. We’re getting them cigarettes and that’s it. Easy enough.”

  Ellen still felt like arguing on that. “Well what if we decide on one item is we all want. Can you get it then?”

  Before Dean could snap at her again, Joe intervened. “What is it that you want Ellen? Hair spray, fingernail polish, what, what trivial thing is so important that you have to have?”

  “Well.” Ellen smiled. “What about McDonald’s French fries. I miss them.”

  “McDonald’s Fries?” Joe started to laugh and expected others to make fun at them too, but that didn’t happen. Instead, exciting conversation broke out about it.

  Andrea was just as thrilled at the notion. “Ellen, you are so right. There is nothing like those fries.”

  Reverend Bob, who was there as a spiritual guide, guided in his thoughts, “And they can’t forget the little packs of ketchup. Ketchup . . . I miss that. But, Dr. Hayes, how will our systems handle that?”

  Dean had to think about it. “Considering the fat content that some of you Beginnings people consume with our butter . . .” He looked at Ellen. “I don’t see where it would be harmful if consumed in moderation.”

  The response at the table was as if Dean’s word was the O.K.. Everyone began discussing how many orders of super-size would be needed to accommodate those in on the project.<
br />
  Joe whistled loudly. “All right! We’ll get fries. Christ! Jason and I will figure out how many orders. Now! The meeting. Trish!”

  Trish screamed, “I didn’t say anything.”

  “History disks,” Joe grumbled. “You said you had something very important to add tonight.”

  “Oh.” Perky as usual, Trish stood up. “Since Henry has to be the protector of the history disks and carry them around. I . . .” She giggled and reached under the table. “I worked with Ben from fabrics on making you this lovely purple panda carrying case.”

  Henry smiled as he took it. “Thanks Trish. This is nice. And big! I can carry my journal in here.”

  Joe rubbed his temples as he watched Trish sit down. “That was it? That was the big thing about the disk?” Joe had edge to him. “You couldn’t wait until you gave him the final disks to give him the case.”

  “No, Joe.” Trish shook her head. “I worked hard on that. I wanted everyone to see.”

  “Christ,” Joe grumbled, “All right. Final problem.” He stood up. “I need suggestions. We need money, not a lot, but enough for this trip. Let’s face it people, things just weren’t free in the past. We need money for the phone calls, parking meters, copy machines, gasoline, faxes, magazines, cigarettes and even those fries. We need money and it has to be at least ten years old. So any suggestions?” Noticing at that moment Dean, looking so much like Ellen with his hand waving about in a school boy fashion, Joe looked to Dean. Joe was relieved. Dean was the bright boy of Beginnings. If he had a solution it had to be good. “Yes, Dean, you have a solution about money?”

  “Yeah, Joe.” Dean looked proud. “Ellen has money.”

  Joe, ignoring Ellen’s loud gasp, and everyone’s ‘what?’, he spun his head in confusion. “Ellen has money?”

  “Sure,” Dean nodded, “and lots of it.”

  Standing up and holding his hand out to everyone, Joe walked down the table. “How does Ellen have lots of money, Dean?”

  “Before we left Ashtonville, she robbed the first savings and loan. Then she hit up the drug store, grocery store, video store . . .” He felt the slight pain to his head when the pencil Ellen held came flying at him. “But she has money. A whole box full, don’t you Ellen?”

  “No!” She answered quickly, “he’s lying Joe. I don’t have any money.” Her hand slammed to the table as she shot eye daggers at Dean. “And I cannot believe I mourned you!”

  Dean laughed. “And I cannot believe you won’t own up to the money. Joe she has it.”

  Joe looked at Henry. “Henry, she lives with you. Does she have a box of money at your house.”

  Henry shrugged, lost. “She has boxes, I don’t know if they have money.”

  “No.” Dean shook his head. “The money is in one of the boxes at my house.”

  Frank was curious, but not about the money. “What boxes does Ellen still have at your house, Dean? She still has boxes at mine.”

  “That’s what I want to know!” Joe interjected. “She has boxes at Dean’s house and at Henry’s. Does she have boxes at your house Frank?” Getting Frank’s nod, Joe took on an interrogation tone “How can that be? We were only allotted three boxes each when we moved here. Ellen?”

  “Dean gave me two of his,” she said, “and Henry gave me one of his.”

  John Matoose felt a little like adding fuel to the fire. “Uh Joe? I gave her a box and so did George.”

  “And me,” Andrea added. “I gave her one of mine because I really didn’t have anything.”

  Joe walked closer to Ellen. “Nine boxes? You brought nine boxes?”

  “Joe, I had a whole house to pack up. You people wandered into Ashtonville. I had a house of memories.” She began to account for the boxes on her fingers. “I had knickknacks, and not to mention my videos, pictures, my china, wine glasses, clothes . . .”

  “Ellen!” Joe halted her. “And don’t lie to me. Did you use one of those boxes for money!?”

  After a short mind debate, Ellen came clean. “Yes.”

  “So you lied to me!” Joe scolded. “Now how much money do you have?”

  “Not much.”

  Stopping Dean before he tattled any further, Joe stepped as close as he could to her. “How much is not much?”

  Ellen slid down in her seat mumbling.

  “Excuse me?” Joe cupped his ear. “I can’t hear you.”

  “I said twelve thousands, seven-hundred, and fifty-six dollars, in small and large denominations. Mostly small.”

  “What!” His booming voice shook Ellen and caused her to scoot to Frank. “Why in the world do you have almost thirteen thousand dollars?”

  “I thought that we may need it someday.”

  “Guess what Ellen, we do.” Joe placed his hands on his hips. “And we need bills that are ten years old or older. With that much money it will be a tedious task of sifting through. Now, since you were so gifted as to be given the keen insight into our monetary problems of the future, we’re going to place that tedious task . . .” With a grin, Joe leaned down to Ellen and pinched her cheek, “in your capable hands.” Joe stood up straight. “Wow, that problem was solved fast.” He clapped his hands together then reached down and closed Ellen’s open mouth, “Meeting’s over everyone. Who wants to join me in a drink?”

  The invitation extended was welcomed by those in attendance. The meeting was short and things were in motion. Everyone stood and headed over to the bar, everyone but Ellen. She was still in a state of shock over the task she had ahead of her. But she knew one thing for sure, she may have been the one that had to go through all of the money, but Dean was the one who was going to pay, in one time frame or another.

  ^^^^

  Reading, PA

  The cup of wilderness bred tea was hot but bitter. It did the trick of warming Steward as he sat before a fireplace of a small house in a sector of Reading.

  Grant Collins was no more than fifty, but the hard years, and work of building and leading his community, made him look as if he were well beyond his years. His facial lines showed wisdom as he spoke with Steward. “So you understand?”

  “Yes.” Steward nodded then took a sip of his tea again.

  “I mean, it’s a fine offer. A fine offer,” Grant said, “but as you can see, we built this place back up. We’ve plenty of food. Other survivors aren’t a problem. We haven’t come across any of those . . . savages.” He shrugged. “We’re fine. I spoke to my town. No one is interested in joining up.”

  “Understandable.” Steward set down his cup. “We’ll leave in the morning then.”

  “No hard feelings?” Grant asked.

  “None,” Steward smiled as he stood up, “just remember. No matter what, you are still protected by the Untied States Government. We’re rebuilding. We’ll drop off a radio in a week or two if you run into any trouble or change your mind.”

  “We appreciate that,” Grant smiled.

  “We know.” Steward gave a nod of his head before walking away. “Good night.”

  Grant felt a little bad turning down the offer from the peace ambassador. But he had the town to think about. And even though he declined to invitation to join the forming army of the United States, Grant took comfort in knowing his town would still be protected and they wouldn’t be forgotten about.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  November 24

  Reading, PA

  Before the sun had even crossed the horizon, while only the two guards walked the pitiful fenced off perimeter of Reading, the Society trucks rolled out. The rumbling engines in a departure were the only sound in the sleeping town. Unnoticed, unescorted they left.

  But the trucks stopped just a mile away. Insides the back of the trucks, the armed society soldiers stood.

  Steward paced slowly behind a line of four soldiers who were perched on the ground behind a small grade. Each soldier was positioned before a mortar gun.

  After looking the battalion leader, Sgt. Hemsley, Steward checked out the time then n
odded his head.

  “Load.” Sgt. Hemsley called out. He listened for the shifting sounds. “On my call . . . fire.”

  Holding off his one ear, Steward cringed some at the loud cracking of the firing mortars. The mortars sailed with a whistle. They could be heard exploding in the distance, not with a bellowing ‘boom’, but with four simple pops.

  A short lived wakeup call in the form of gas was delivered to the small population of the town. Moments after, the Society trucks restarted their engines and headed back to Reading to finish the job.

  Beginnings, Montana

  The reason for the gift was guilt. Dean felt bad for arguing with Ellen, and that was made worse when Andrea told him she treated Ellen for severe paper cuts brought on by sifting through old money. Old world germs could have resurfaced, and though chances were slim, Ellen still was a candidate for gangrene. If she got it, it would be all Dean’s fault. So he did something out of character. He became a thief in the night, actually the day. He took something he wouldn’t get in trouble within the community. But trouble would be had when it was found out Dean took one. But he had to do it. He wanted his ‘forgive me’ speech to be special and he also wanted Ellen to be the first person in Beginnings--with the exception of Andrea--to get a rose.

  So from the greenhouses where Miguel’s special Andrea rose bushes were planted, Dean ran all the way to town and into containment.

  Ellen was in her office, Dean saw her when he walked in. And he walked in quietly, definitely not wanting to disturb her from what she was doing. Stepping in without a peep, Dean reached behind him and shut the door. He smiled watching Ellen. Her backside peeking out from under the desk as she semi-hid under there on her hands and knees, head pressed almost to the floor. Moving to the desk, Dean rose behind his back, and squatted behind her. “El? Why are you on your hands and knees hiding under this desk?” Dean grinned when she peered over her shoulder.

  “I lost the back to an earring. See.” She showed him the small gold loop. “Fell right out.”