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

by Jacqueline Druga

  Frank laughed, hard and filled with emotions. “You bet.” Yanking Robbie forward, Frank kissed him on the forehead and released his little brother at the same time his kiss ended with a loud smack.

  “Thanks.” Robbie rubbed his forehead. “I have to play now.” He spoke pacifying to Frank as he walked backwards toward the stage area set up in the corner.

  “Robbie,” Frank called out. “I’m not drunk.”

  Robbie snickered with a shake of his head. “When do you get drunk?”

  With a quiet, excited, ‘yes’, Frank clenched his fist. “I’m not the town drunk.” He looked down to the tap on his arm. “El?”

  “Are you all right?” She asked.

  “Oh yeah.” He watched Robbie place on his guitar. “Couldn’t be better.”

  ^^^^

  “I want to go home!” Trish’s complaining voice seeped into the back history room. “It’s four-forty-two and we know what’s gonna happen!”

  Over the print up of history, Henry looked at Dean. “What is she talking about?”

  “Beats me.” Dean said. “We’re lucky to get in here without an appointment. Now, go on. What is it?”

  “Ready?” Henry asked. He took a deep breath and lifted a page. “Take a look.”

  Before Dean could look down, his attention was drawn to the music, loud, upbeat, and almost a happy older rock. “What is that?”

  “Our band.” Henry said. “Courtesy of . . .” His finger pointed to the paper.

  Dean looked. “Shit.” He took off from the room.

  Sweeping up the print-out, Henry followed.

  Trish watched them dart out past her. “Thank God! As if I’m not busy enough.”

  Henry and Dean ran top speed out of History, almost to the beat of the music, following it to where it came from. Quickly through the social hall door they blasted, both skidding to a stop beside Frank.

  “Oh, my God.” Dean looked up to Robbie singing and playing on the stage. “It worked. We did it.”

  Frank grinned. “We did it.” Arms folded Frank watched with pride to his brother play.

  “Frank?” Henry stepped closer. “Is it me or does Robbie look different.”

  “Yeah.” Dean agreed. “There’s something different about him.”

  “You’re right.” Frank said. “Look at his eyes.”

  Watching Robbie, so happy, play his guitar, Frank saw it and so did Dean and Henry. No matter how rugged the edges were on his young handsome face, no matter how many scars of war Robbie had, the gleam of his bright blue eyes showed the ageless innocence of Robbie. It was an innocence that wasn’t there when Robbie showed up in Beginnings a year before in the history when Robbie was married to Ellen. It was back. Or rather, never lost. And Frank knew he didn’t just have Robbie back in his life, he had his little brother.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Frank.” Joe snapped to get his attention in the crowded and loud social hall. “Are you listening?”

  “Yeah.” Frank nodded, took a drink, and gave a motion of his head to the playing band. “Pretty good.”

  “Not to Robbie’s band. To me. And thank God they’re almost done.” Joe sipped his whiskey. “I couldn’t take any more than two hours of this shit.”

  “Dad!” Frank gasped out. “Such lack of support.”

  “And you.” Joe pointed. “You’re acting like you never heard them.”

  “I haven’t.” Frank saw Joe gaze up. “I mean. I have. But, what I’m trying to say is . . . have any of us really listened to the band. I mean really . . .”

  “Frank. Enough.” Joe rubbed his temple. “Do you have a problem with it?”

  “The band? No. I like them.”

  “Not the band.” Joe slammed his hand on the bar. “Robbie going to Cleveland to check out the cryo-lab at the same time Ellen will be in quarantine following the future trip.”

  “Yeah, a little. I’d like to spend some time reminiscing with Robbie.”

  “What the hell is the matter with you?” Joe asked. “I could care less what you and your brother have to talk about. I’m talking about running security and your family.”

  “What about it?”

  “Will you have a problem with it? Will it be too much?”

  “Dad, please.” Frank scoffed. “I’m Frank.”

  “Unfortunately,” Joe grumbled. He then sighed in relief when the silence of the finishing band hit. “Thank God. Frank, let me ask you something now that I don’t have to shout over the band.” He waited until he not only had Frank’s attention but comprehension that he was about to be asked a question. “You guys came through the machine today.” Joe spoke in a low voice. “Why? You obviously had to change something back. I can steal the history disks, but tell me.”

  “You can’t yell,” Frank said. When he saw Joe lift his hand in a promise, Frank leaned down toward the bar. “When we came back from the past trip . . . everything was gone. Beginnings was gone.”

  “Gone?” Joe stated in such disbelief.

  “Nuclear war.” Frank made a mouth blast sound. “There was even this odd purple cloud. We figured it had to do with the call Dean made to himself concerning the plague. So we had to come back and stop Dean.”

  “And how exactly did you get back to stop Dean?” Joe asked.

  “Jason sent us.”

  “Uh-huh.” Joe nodded. “A nuclear war. A purple cloud. No more Beginnings yet Jason was here.”

  “Dad, it was the oddest thing.” Frank looked up when Robbie approached. “I guess, you know, some things are meant to be.”

  Robbie reached between his father and Frank and grabbed Frank’s half empty glass. He downed it. “Hey, Frank. Ready?”

  “Yep.” Frank stood straight. “See ya Dad.”

  “Frank,” Joe called to him. “Just tell me this. It was screwed up. Did you fix it?”

  “No.” Frank shook his head. “We made it better.” With a smile he walked from the social hall with Robbie.

  Robbie snickered. “Man, what has gotten into you? I swear you’ve been hanging around Dean too much. All calm.”

  “A lot has happened.” Frank stopped walking.

  “Frank?” Robbie looked at him. “Is something bothering you? Everything’s all right. Right?”

  “Yeah. But . . . aside from no longer being the town drunk, some things changed. Feel like talking for a while?”

  “Sounds serious.”

  “It is.” Frank nodded. “I need you to have an open mind.”

  “You got it.” Robbie gave a twitch to his head and started to walk. “Let’s go.”

  Frank was ready for the laughter, ready for the ridicule because he was ready to talk. There was a lot Frank needed to find out, to know, and he had to hear it, especially from his brother’s mouth.

  ^^^^

  Former Quantico Marine Headquarters

  “It’s a grab and go.” Steward explained as he took a seat across from George in the office. “Whoever is sneaking in here hasn’t a clue what they want. They hit one of our buildings, grab what they can and go.” Steward shrugged. “Last night’s little invasion and tonight’s don’t match up. I mean the information they got on both nights isn’t even vaguely similar.”

  George nodded his comprehension. “I realize that. But just running in and grabbing can be detrimental to us as well.”

  “How?” Steward asked. “You are talking forty-two men. Forty-two.”

  “I know that doesn’t seem like a lot. And in comparison to us, it isn’t. But just as we build, they could too. And they knowing what we have isn’t favorable to us.”

  “I understand your concerns about that,” Steward said and prepared to say more when a knock was at the door.

  George looked up. “Must be Doyle. Come in,” He called out.

  Sgt. Doyle stepped in. “Sirs.” He greeted George and Steward. “Scout report.” He held up a small sheet of paper.

  “And? George asked.

  “All indications are there that these men a
re our defectors. Whether or not they are the ones that came in and stole information remains to be seen.” Sgt. Doyle explained. “Scouts report forty-four men all of prime age and in good shape. They apparently have a makeshift camp set up. No long term signs. They are definitely temporary there.”

  George leaned back in his chair. “They could have picked up two more men out there. Seeing that they’re so close, let’s not take a chance.”

  Sgt. Doyle nodded. “I agree. I’d like a dawn hit. Four eight man squads led by Sgt. Hemsley. I’ll notify the scouts to stay put and do nothing.”

  George nodded.

  Steward stood up slowly. “I’ll notify the surgical crew to prepare for immediate removal with this batch. They can be in limbo until implantation.”

  “No,” George said, causing Steward to stop. “No.”

  Steward looked in surprise. “No? You worry about these men. Through your concerns, do we want to lose another scout master or records man at their hands when they try to escape again?”

  “Absolutely not,” George said. “And I made mention to take no chances. And we won’t. No gas, Sgt. Doyle. No cyborg enhancement. At dawn, sneak attack, heavy fire. As Steward keeps reiterating, they’re only forty-some men.” George gave a nonchalant attitude. “So just wipe them out.”

  ^^^^

  Lee-Curtis Mansion

  Arlington National Cemetery

  The hand sharpened pencil tapped upon the tattered scrap paper he wrote upon. At the oak kitchen table in the former historical tourist attraction, Elliott Ryder sat by a dimly lit lantern. The small flame flickered a dance in his dark Hispanic eyes that shifted to the battery powered radio. He stared for a moment at what he had written, then reached over and shut off the hissing transmission. Fingertips cold, Elliott huffed on his hands before he grabbed his paper and the lantern. A man in his thirties, thin and fit, began his journey to deliver the news.

  A few specks of illumination were in the house. Most came from the fireplaces with small burning fires to keep the men warm while they slept. Most of the men rested but a few engaged in conversation.

  From the basement level he walked up, shivering from the cold and shuddering from the eerie feeling of being in the icon of the civil war. He didn’t like it there. It was damp and ghostly. Of course, being set in the middle of a cemetery aided in that. To Elliott, it was spookier than the entire dead country. Not to mention there was just something weird about it. But he understood why they went there just that morning. Elliott himself preferred the ‘wait and stay’ in the White house. Gathering up information there was easy, plus Washington D.C., for some reason, had power so the White house was warm. But everyone was together again with all information that could be retrieved and the society solders moved frequently through the overgrown capitol preparing it for something. Moving about for supplies had to be done through the sewer system or former subway. It was a tedious task, not to mention dangerous, with the society growing everywhere. It was time to move to safer, higher ground. And they did . . . literally... on top of a hill in the most famous cemetery.

  There wasn’t a part of his body that didn’t grow colder as Elliott made his way through the extremely drafty halls of the home. He was grateful for the red bandana he wore. In fact most of the men wore bandanas. Not as a statement, but as a sense of warmth. Elliott didn’t mind forfeiting his black locks when he was recruited into what he thought was the ‘New United States Army’. He didn’t mind until his one cohort did what he always seemed to do, charmed his way into keeping his long dark blonde hair. Elliott supposed that was why his cohort was the undeniable leader of the crew. He could convince anyone to do anything. In fact he was the one that had convinced Elliott to join the army twelve years earlier when all Elliott ever wanted to do was work in his father’s shoe factory outside of Cleveland.

  The Captain. For so many years before the plague, Elliott had called him the Captain--or Lieutenant pre-promotion--that Elliott swore he had forgotten his real name. Everyone called him ‘The Captain’ and that was who Elliott journeyed through the spooky house to see.

  In the sitting room doorway, Elliott stopped. He took a moment to chuckle at the Captain who sat alone in a chair by a small fireplace, a chair that probably had been graced by the rear of Robert E. Lee many times. The Captain sat reading, his tall, brawny body looking small in the piece of old furniture. Piles of papers spewed around him.

  “More productive night?” Elliott questioned as he stepped in.

  Looking up, the man, not much older than Elliott, grinned. “Very productive. I got a lot more than I expected but still not enough.”

  “You’re not going back into Quantico again, are you?” Elliott asked.

  “I have to.” The Captain shifted a piece of paper. “I need to get all I can before we move on. I knew something was up when I saw Hadley arrive. And this documentation, though not much, confirms it.”

  “You do know they’ll kill you if they catch you.”

  “Elliott,” The Captain chuckled. “They probably are looking for someone sneaking in. Hell, I walked right through the front gate in a society uniform. Besides, if something happens to me, you’ll lead the men.”

  “Me?” Elliott laughed. “Me? No. I’m no leader.”

  “Nonsense. Look how you organized the stylish movement of bandanas.”

  “Oh, really funny.” Elliott shook his head. “We’re all bald.” He gave a sneer to the Captains long ponytail. “Well, all but one of us.”

  The Captain smiled. “How’s the demeanor of the men?”

  “Fine.” Elliott said. “Waiting patiently on your move.” He smiled. “Captain, I have to tell you. This house . . . this house . . .”

  “Is great?”

  “No, it sucks.”

  “Now is that a general consensus or an Elliott opinion only.”

  “O.K., well.” Elliott shrugged. “It’s mine. But . . .”

  “Elliott.” The Captain stood. “Don’t you find the house filled with spirit? Don’t you feel the irony of the past and current situations when staying here?”

  “No.” Elliott said. “I get the creeps. Speaking of irony, I do have a reason for disturbing you in your ‘wanna be Robert E. Lee’ moment.” Elliott handed him the paper. “Definitely Morse code. That’s their means of communication now.”

  The Captain read his notes. “Where’s this Bethel.”

  “Not far. Fifteen miles. Small camp. Dawn hit. A wipe out. And . . . here’s the deal. They think they’re us. So knowing this ...”

  The Captain’s eyes lifted. “We have a moral obligation.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  “Run a little pre-dawn interference?”

  “Sure, why not.” Elliott shrugged.

  “Excellent. Let’s go tell everyone.” With a clench to the note, a swat to Elliott’s back, an upbeat Captain walked from the sitting room with Elliott.

  ^^^^

  Beginnings, Montana

  The envelope, a bit crinkled and yellowed, sat on Henry’s coffee table. Just sitting there it gathered the most awestruck stares of Frank, Dean, and Henry.

  “This is so weird.” Frank reached down and touched it. “Dean, you mailed this not that long ago.”

  Henry sat with his personal journals open. “At least we know that letter was the reason it worked. Was it, Robbie? Did that letter prompt you to go to Ashtonville?”

  “Absolutely.” Robbie’s eyes went to the letter. “It was simple. Frank told Dad would call.and say it was imperative I go to Ashtonville. When I read that, I thought how psychic Frank was.”

  “Wow.” Frank was amazed. “So you waited until the year of the plague to open it?”

  “No way.” Robbie laughed. “I opened it right away.”

  “And you still believed it?” Frank asked.

  “Why not.” Robbie answered. “You’re my big brother. Why would I doubt you? Of course now, years later, I’m a little wiser.” He winked.

  Henry took not
es as he listened. “So you went there on the onset.”

  “Yep.” Robbie nodded. “As soon as I got the call, I grabbed that letter. I called Hal, but there was no way he’d get there. He was stationed in Hawaii. And Jimmy… Jimmy said he’d try. But I went immediately. I went AWOL.”

  Henry handed Robbie a sheet of paper. “Here’s a list of people we remember being in Ashtonville. Anyone different that wasn’t or was there that could have made an effect we don’t know about?”

  Robbie reviewed the list. “Just me.” He handed it back to Henry.

  “Good.” Henry breathed out. “We don’t want to not remember someone we should. I have some other events that happened. Can you fill us in?

  “I’ll try.” Robbie tossed his hands up. “Fire away.”

  “Colorado.” Henry said. “Obviously the scientists were defrosted. What went down with Colorado?”

  “El and Miguel went. They tried to keep El. Frank went after her,” Robbie stated.

  “Wait.” Frank interrupted. “Why would I trust Miguel over you? Why didn’t I send you to Colorado?”

  “I was supposed to go.” Robbie answered. “But I broke my leg in a trap the night before. It’s finally feeling really good.”

  Henry flipped a page in his journal. “Now I have written, El and I went back to save Dean.”

  “Yep.” Robbie nodded. “Well, that’s what we’re told. I never knew the Dean is dead history. What I recall is being locked in holding with Frank awaiting our ousting. My Dad shows up walking. George escaped.”

  Dean decided to interject. “So Joe was still hit with the Salicain? I saw by my notes we’re still working on the virus. What about the time machine to find the society.”

  Robbie nodded. “Find them or, as Frank believes, find what we have that’s so important. Personally, I think it’s me.” Robbie grinned.

  “Strategically where do we stand with the society?” Frank asked.

  “Haven’t had any hits by them lately so we definitely think they’re taking time to build. Right now our pain in the ass problem is our budding savages.” Robbie saw that the three of them knew exactly what he talked about. “In and out of Beginnings, we think, but not sure. They keep messing with perimeter seven.”