Dean took another moment to stare at the photograph of him and Ellen. He had no idea when the picture was actually taken. Early on, not only did he and Ellen look younger, Ellen was very pregnant. They embraced in a semi kiss. Smiles from both of them seemingly stopped their lips from touching. How happy they looked. And Dean didn’t even know what caused that moment. It was a memory Dean would only have through the eyes of a camera’s lens.
Running his index finger over it once more, Dean set it up on his desk. He checked over his notes and blood work, clinic work he had let slide over the past few days during the rippling of time. He thought he was finally catching up, but Dean knew once they went full swing into the virus he would fall behind again. “O.K., let’s see.” Dean spoke out loud looking at his notes. “Let’s play psychic. Which one of you is going to give me the most trouble while I’m stuck in the mobile?”
“Talking to yourself again?” Andrea called out from the door of his lab.
“Andrea.” Dean stood straight up. “What are you doing here? It’s Saturday.”
“I’m welcoming another addition to the land of Beginnings.” Her eyes caught it as she moved to his desk. “What’s this?” She walked over and lifted the picture. “Now here’s something that hasn’t been on this desk for quite some time.” She smiled at it and set it back down. “The anniversary is coming up. Is that the reason for the picture?”
Dean’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
Andrea chuckled. “Let me let you in on a little secret Dean. If you want to pretend it didn’t happen, pulling out a wedding picture is not . . .” Andrea felt the whoosh of air as Dean snatched up the picture and flew out of the lab. “My.” She gasped out. “Don’t want my opinion ... Fine.” She threw her hands up in the air in her march from the lab. “Fine.”
^^^^
“O.K. boys . . .” Ellen handed a bucket and rag to Denny and Josh. They stood in the hallway of containment. “Baseboards need done today, especially in the skills room. We have that session in there this afternoon and the people will be on the floor. Survivors or not, I don’t want them thinking we live like pigs. Got it?”
Denny made a wincing face. “Why?”
“You blew me off two weeks ago. You both disappeared with Johnny to shoot pool. I didn’t say anything to Joe, but next time you’ll go back to school with . . . Jenny Matoose.”
Josh whined loudly, “We look really dumb.”
“Yeah,” Denny added. “Can’t we just play with Mike the dog?”
“You can play with Mike after you clean my baseboards, now hurry. It’s not that much.” Hearing the buzzing of the containment door, Ellen looked up to see Dean. She smiled. “Hi.”
“Hi, El.” He hurried to her a little out of breath and kissed her on the cheek. “Do you have a minute?”
“Dean? You have this weird look on your face. Are you all right?”
“I think. I’m not sure. We’ll find out. Come here.” Grabbing her arm, Dean pulled Ellen to the office.
On his hands and knees, fingers barely wanting to touch the soap, Josh shook his head. “And they say we’re the weird ones. He can’t even speak a whole sentence.”
“Yeah,” Denny agreed. “Some doctor he is…and we’re the ones scrubbing the floors.”
Inside her office, Ellen watched Dean close the door. “What is going on?”
Dean just handed her the picture.
Ellen shrieked. “Oh my God, look how huge I was.”
“El, when . . . when was that taken?” Dean asked as he ran his hand through his hair.
From the picture, to Dean with seriousness, Ellen looked. Then she handed the picture to Dean. “I’m busy.” She moved toward the door.
“Ellen, wait.” Dean grabbed her arm. “When?”
“I told you I’m busy.”
“Why won’t you answer me?” Dean asked.
“Because that has to be the most dick question you have ever asked me.” Ellen, with attitude, tried to open the door.
After thinking, ‘dick question?’ Dean hurriedly reached out and shut the door. “I’m very serious.”
“And so am I.” Ellen’s eyes were wide as she talked to him. “You should know.”
“I don’t know.”
“Dick.” Ellen grabbed for the door.
“El. Please.” Dean dove in front of her. “Why are you making this into a game? Just tell me.”
“If you don’t know, I’m not telling you,” Ellen said sharply. “And there is no reason on the face of this earth that you shouldn’t know when that picture was taken.”
“Oh yeah? Try this. Frank screwed up time, El. He screwed it up big time.” Dean tossed his hands in the air. “So much is different that I feel like an idiot hanging around people. I thought, I thought my life was pretty much untouched. My personal life. Well, with the exception of that one kid. Um . . .”
“Joey.”
“Yes.” Dean snapped his finger. “Thanks. But I’m finding out it may not be all the same.” He slowed down his words. “I need to know. Were we married?”
With a bit of irritation and disbelief, Ellen answered him. “Yes.”
“Oh my God.” Dean stepped back.
“Why are you acting like this is a shock?”
“Because it is.” Dean looked up, so lost. “In my memory, in my non-Frank fucked up time frame, you never loved me enough to marry me. And that was all I ever wanted…to have a life with you. And now . . . now I found out I had it and this . . .” Dean held up the picture. “…is all the memory I’ll ever have. Do you know how bad that sucks?”
Ellen slowly took a step to him. “You’re serious.” She watched him nod. “We knew it.” She said. “We knew it by how odd you were when you came back three days ago.”
“Well, the Dean that you remember three days ago, I don’t know. See, we came back yesterday trying to fix the first screw up Frank did.” He saw how confused Ellen looked. “Never mind. Long story. How did it happen? Did Robbie convince you to marry me?”
“What?” Ellen asked with a laugh. “Why would Robbie have anything to do with it?” She waited and only received a silent look. “Another long story?”
“Yep.”
“O.K., tell you what. How about tonight we exchange long stories? I may never be able to give you the actual memory, but I sure can fill in the blanks.”
“Thank you.” Dean placed his hands on her arms and kissed her. “Oh, wait. It’s Saturday. Don’t you do that twelve step thing with Frank?”
“Screw Frank. He blew me off last night. He wanted to have an emergency step six session and he never showed up. He was at the social hall watching Robbie sing. Not like he hasn’t done that before.”
“You’ll find out through the long stories . . . he hasn’t.” Dean, knowing he was leaving Ellen puzzled, walked do the door. “The lab?”
“You got it. Oh, and Dean?” Ellen waited until he turned around. “December 12th. That was when the picture was taken.”
Giving a peaceful smile and a thank you nod, Dean walked out.
^^^^
Former Quantico Marine Headquarters
George ran his hand across the bridge of his nose so hard that he could have wiped away the top layer of skin. “All of them?” He gazed angry eyes at Sgt. Hemsley.
“All of them. I . . . I don’t know how I dodged their bullets. Grace of God I guess.” He tried to follow George who was leaving. “I stayed in the woods after the radio and watched to see . . .”
“I don’t care!” George blasted spinning with an angry point to the frightened sergeant. “I could care less how many bullets missed you. Thirty two of my men were wiped out by a camp of goddamn low life, living in tent survivors turned defectors?”
“The ones living in the camp, from what I observed, weren’t our defectors.”
“Great.” George threw out his hand as he barged again to this door. “Get this man from my office and out of . . .”
“The ones who aided them were.”
Sgt. Hemsley cried out in a last ditch attempt.
“What?” George stopped cold. “How do you know?”
“I recognized the one.” Sgt. Hemsley caught his scared breath. “I recognized him.”
“How?” George asked. “How in God’s name can you remember a defector when not even the camp master does?”
“Because his ethnicity never matched his name. It always struck me as odd. He’s Latino and his name is Elliott Ryder. And he is leading this pack. I can tell you. They all are wearing bandanas as a statement. His was the only one that was red.”
“It’s probably not a goddamn statement. It’s probably because they’re bald.” George’s attention was however caught. Calmer he stepped back into his office. “Aside from being a visual racist, how do you remember him?”
“I was part of the sweep that happened upon their town. It was a very friendly sweep of a small town on the border of Texas and Mexico. I recall because I thought they had picked up Elliott from Mexico. When in fact . . .”
“Oh my God.” Steward’s words seeped discovery. “They were all remarkably together pre-plague. Hold on.” He raced to the door. “Ambassador Lyons did that sweep, but none of us have gotten to question him because he’s been ill this past week.”
George tossed his hands in the air as he returned to behind his desk. He sat down with a sarcastic tone. “Oh, yes, now everyone remembers. A week ago no one knew anything. Now I have a name.” Tapping his fingers on the desk surface in an impatient manner, George looked up when Jeremy Lyons walked in. He looked pale from his bout with tuberculosis, but George didn’t care. He wanted answers. “Sit.” George pointed to the chair and waited. “Did Steward tell you?”
“Not much. He just said you needed to speak to me about a sweep I did.”
“Two weeks ago, I’m guessing. You did a friendly sweep of a small town bordering Mexico and Texas. What can you tell me about these survivors you picked up?”
Proudly, Jeremy smiled. “Excellent grouping. Friendly, smart. Fantastic backgrounds. They’re shining quickly for us, aren’t they?”
“Oh, yeah, they’re shining.” George stated. “They defected last week and have been nothing but a pain in the ass. Death toll now, thirty five.”
“Oh.” The smiled dropped from Jeremy’s face. “I expected great things from them.”
“Let’s just hope you’re wrong,” George said. “Tell me about this fantastic background.”
“They were all together pre-plague, all servicemen stationed in Hawaii together. They survived because some doctor tried an experimental vaccine on them. Not everyone who was given it lived. From what they told me, about ten percent of the ones given the vaccine in the early stages lived.”
“Hawaii.” George leaned back. “The almost cure.” He noticed the questioning looks. “During the plague, Dr. Hayes got a half ass recipe for a vaccine some doctor had success with. Dean always said that the vaccine could have worked if given early enough and the person was not only strong, but had some sort of genetic link to the immunity. Taylor.”
“Taylor? Who’s he?” Jeremy asked.
“Taylor was the most precious thing. How she came from that annoying little Beginnings woman I’ll never know. Anyhow, she was five years old. The vaccine worked some, but ended up failing on her. She had the genetic link to her immune mother, but she was given it in a later stage and . . . she was just a child.”
“These men were servicemen,” Jeremy said. “They all left Hawaii together. They all separated in groups for an agreed length of time to search for families and get this . . . they all returned back to the meeting place, the town in Mexico.”
“Loyalty,” George said. “They stick together well.”
“Many years. When we came upon them they had picked up four women and two older men. Those six were moved to special sectors.”
“But we did take all the servicemen.”
“No.” Jeremy shook his head. “Six stayed behind.”
“What!” George barked. “You left six behind? Why!”
“They were not aggressors. And the six that stayed behind planned to stay for four weeks and then head out to us.”
George grumbled. “Probably a backup if something went wrong. Which means,” George smiled, “our defectors will head home.” He stood up. “We have to get a crew out to that town to wait.” He saw Jeremy shake his head. “No? Why?”
“The six were finishing up the move. See, they were moving to a better resource location, one they had been working on. That is where the six are waiting.”
George sat back down. “I guess asking you where this new location is would be in vain.”
“We haven’t a clue where that is.”
“Figures.” George dropped his face into his hands. After a moment, he laid his hands on the desk. “So now our defectors that no one worried about diverted our attack, wiped out our men, and stole our weapons.” George saw Steward’s mouth open. “Don’t. Don’t give me that stock line, ‘there are only forty-two men’. Because our forty-two renegades are probably now . . . eighty-six.”
CHAPTER SIX
Beginnings, Montana
It was a pretty large stack of folders that set before Ellen on the counter. She looked at the stack then to the clipboard. “Dean,” she spoke, “I know they’ll be some wait time on results in quarantine but do we really need all this side work?” Ellen shook her head looking at the list of items she had to prepare to have at the mobile lab within a few days. “Dean?”
Dean sort of heard her, but he was too engrossed at the other counter, a counter filled with items Ellen had brought of their life. His fingers kept flipping the cover of the hotel matchbook he held. Flipping it open, he saw his name written inside. “We had an affair.” Dean stated quietly then looked to his empty hand when the matches were snatched away.
“A hotel incident.” Ellen leaned on the counter next to him. “An afternoon.” She smiled.
“I’m sitting here racking my brains how Robbie got you to my lecture before the plague.”
“Robbie didn’t.” Ellen said. “I had planned to go anyhow. Why, didn’t I go in the time frame you remember?”
“Pete.” Dean stated. “He found a letter that confirmed your affair with Frank. You said things were ugly and you never went.”
“There you have it.” Ellen smiled. “Pete never found a letter from Frank. He found . . .” she started giggling, “one of Robbie’s dirty emails he sent me. Why I printed that up I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Anyhow, Robbie’s correspondence to me grew heavier and heavier before the plague. He called it his countdown to me needing him. Now that makes sense. Frank told him that in the letter.”
“And you ended up at the lecture.”
“And in bed with you,” Ellen explained. “It was nice. Of course you always said you fell in love with me the second you laid eyes on me at the lecture. When in your memory did you fall in love with me Dean?”
Dean chuckled in embarrassment. “The second I first laid eyes on you.” He turned back around to his items. “All this stuff is great. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Even though you looked at all that while I did the work.”
“And I appreciate it. We . . . we have a good history.” Dean gazed at the items.
“Yes, we did. Didn’t we have a good history in your memory?”
“Yeah.” Dean smiled. “Only right before Frank screwed everything up, you may have been working it out with Frank, but we had another incident and you were confused about your feelings.”
“Well then see.” Ellen smiled and tapped Dean’s cheek. “Nothing’s changed. And I have to go.” She hurried and kissed him. “I want to stop and see how Henry’s doing with that microchip in the cryo-lab.”
“You’re just leaving me hanging,” Dean said.
“Yep.” Ellen backed up. “And I’ll get those things tomorrow.”
Dean nodded and returned to the items Ellen brought. No sooner did he look upon the
m then he heard Ellen’s distant voice saying, ‘Hey, Rev. Thomas’.
Dean lifted his head. The sound of that name sent a sickening feeling straight to his gut, causing Dean to spin around, losing his balance some, and slamming back first into the counter.
“The Lord has sent me to deliver a warning to you.” The deep voice resonated from the towering big man, his red hair long and vibrant. He carried a large red bible.
“Moses . . . I mean . . .” Dean swallowed, anger filled his chest. “Thomas.”
“Listen to his word Dr. Hayes!” Thomas held up the bible. “For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, they are plans for good and not disaster, to give you a future and a hope. These are the Lord’s words as spoke through Jeremiah.”
“I don’t have time for this or you,” Dean pointed. “And I would appreciate you not coming into my lab quoting the Lord’s word. Not you. Not ever.” He turned back around and began collecting the Ellen memorabilia items.
“You take this tone with me when you vow to change the future that our Lord has laid out. Vow to change it by bringing the beast of the future to our Beginnings now? Rev. Bob has informed me of these endeavors.”
Though religiously it wasn’t the correct thing to do, Dean damned Reverend Bob for opening his mouth. “You really don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The metal deliverance of evil you brought to our fields.”
“The lab?” Dean laughed. “See what you know. It’s science.” He walked over and shut down his computer.
“It is death. And you, Dr. Hayes . . .” His heavy hand pointed down. “Are the anti-Christ who delivers it.”
With a fluttering of his lips, Dean broke down in laughter. “All right, I’ve heard it all. I’ve been called a little-man with an attitude. A wife stealer. Even gay. But never have I been called the anti-Christ. Thanks, that’s a new one.” Chuckling Dean grabbed his belongings and moved across the lab.
The Big Ten: The First Ten Books of the Beginnings Series Page 189
