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

by Jacqueline Druga

  Frank raised his head. “The beam wasn’t on.”

  “What?!” Joe marched closer to him. “Why was this beam not on?”

  “We . . .” Frank closed his eyes. “We were trying to catch whoever it was doing this. The beam was down when Sarge was up here. It went back on at four, like clockwork. It gave him access to run out if he saw someone. No one knew I had him up here. I’m to blame, it was my idea. If the beam would have been on, the arrow wouldn’t have made it through. It was my fault.”

  “You’re goddamn right this is your fault, Frank.” Joe threw the arrow down. “That was a stupid move. Stupid. Do you have any idea what kind of danger you put this community in? Do you!” Joe’s voice raised in such a scolding manner. “Sarge went down, and so was that perimeter. They could have come in here. They could have done damage. You’re lucky, Frank. Goddamn lucky that did not happen. Savages? You know what they are capable of! Your job is to protect not play undercover agent. And the worst part is, we had to lose a life in order for you to see that.”

  Robbie stepped in. “Dad, come on. Frank was just thinking . . .”

  “No Robbie!” Joe held up his hand. “Frank wasn’t thinking. That was the problem. He never thinks. Now a good man lies dead because of that.” Joe began to storm off. “We’re just lucky a whole lot more didn’t join him.”

  Robbie approached his silent brother. “Come on Frank. I’ll help you load up Sarge.”

  “Thanks.” Frank moved to Sarge’s legs. “And thanks for trying with dad.”

  “You were thinking right.” Robbie grunted as he lifted Sarge’s upper body. He helped carry the body to the jeep. “And Dad’s wrong.” With a thump, they placed Sarge’s huge body in the jeep. “It wasn’t savages. If it was, they would have come in. No, Frank. I think you and I ought to closely examine what happened here last night. Really examine it. Because I believe the whole truth isn’t laying in that broken arrow. There’s more to it. We just have to find it.”

  With a closed mouth, and not feeling like saying more, Frank climbed into the jeep with Robbie.

  ^^^^

  Ellen stopped to shake the pain in her only useful hand then returned to picking up the needle. “I didn’t learn to do this Dean to be a Vet.” She tried to insert the intravenous into the rabbit.

  Dean walked over to her. “Want me to do it?”

  “Yeah.” Ellen handed it to him. “It’s hard enough without being crippled.” She stood above Dean, watching him, when she saw Henry return. “Hey Henry? Feeling better?”

  “I’m mad at you El.” Henry poked her lightly in the arm.

  “No you aren’t.” She waved her hand at him. “It was funny.”

  “I threw up.”

  “Henry, you always throw up.” Ellen smiled and watched Dean. “Really, how in the world would you ever handle having to take care of a child?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Henry neared her.

  Ellen fixed the tubing on the bunny IV. “Good job Dean, do the next one.” She handed him a needle. She glanced to Henry. “I mean, tell him Dean. Kids do gross things.”

  “Unfortunately.” Dean maneuvered the needle.

  “Terrible things,” Ellen continued. “The older they get, the worse the diapers get. Not to mention newborn baby boys. They pee on you. And gack, you think you’re bad, Henry. Babies throw up all the time. Ask Frank. He was playing with Brian, doing that lifting thing in the air, and his mouth found out the hard way that even when excited, babies gack with great aim.”

  Henry cringed, he cringed loudly and with a turn of his body. “Aw that’s . . .” He paused when he saw Frank’s head peeping in slightly through the other window. He made eye contact. “That’s sick.” Henry then saw Frank motion to the radio and point to the trailer. Henry nodded to him. “I’ll be right back, El.”

  Ellen looked up. “You aren’t throwing up again, are you?”

  “No, I have to um . . . I want to get a drink. My stomach feels funny.”

  Ellen saw him dart out, she returned to watching Dean as he moved to the next rabbit. “He’s puking again. Bet me. The Frank story threw him over the edge. Hey, Dean? Do you think any of this will work on the rabbits?”

  “Doubtful.” Dean said. “I’m trying variations of what I tried in the future. All trial and error.” Dean set down the needle he was attempting to insert in a rabbit. “This can really get impossible.” Through the corner of his eye, he saw Henry return. Dean’s voice conveyed the shock of Henry’s pale appearance. “Henry?”

  Ellen turned around. “Henry, you’re white as a ghost. You threw up again.”

  “No.” Henry said with a slight crack to his voice. “El . . . El, Frank needs to speak to you. He’s over at the bedroom window of the trailer.”

  “Something’s happened.” Ellen said. “What?”

  “Just go talk to him,” Henry instructed and handed her the radio.

  Ellen took it and after looking concerned at Henry, walked from the special lab.

  “Henry? What’s happened?” Dean asked.

  Waiting until he knew Ellen was out of ear shot, Henry let out a long breath, faced Dean with solace, and began break the news that Frank had just handed to him.

  The window in Ellen’s bedroom of the trailer was no bigger than two feet, and the little blind pulled all the way up, limited more of the window’s view, but there was enough there for Ellen to see Frank. Hands gripping the metal edges of the window, Ellen’s head was down.

  “El,” Frank spoke, his voice coming through the radio she had dropped on the floor. “I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head then bent down to pick up the radio. “How . . . how bad . . . how bad did he suffer Frank?”

  “The arrow went right through the neck. Jason said the brain stem was severed. He probably died within a minute.”

  “Oh, God.” Ellen’s eyes closed and she put one hand on the glass. “This isn’t fair. We didn’t bring him to Beginnings to die.”

  “I know.”

  Eyes still shut; Ellen shook her head slowly back and forth. “For six years, Frank. Six years he lived alone out there, surviving. This isn’t right, this just isn’t right. I really liked him.”

  “I know you did. And I’m sorry.” Saddened Frank spoke. “I’m really sorry. Are you all right?”

  “No!” Ellen’s answer emotionally burst out then her voice softened. “No.”

  “I wish I could come in there with you.” Frank reached up to the window. He laid his hand over where Ellen’s was, wishing he could touch her. “El, I wish I could be in there to help you with this. I know you’re hurt. If I could . . .” Frank’s eyes moved from his view of Ellen. “Dean,” he said when he saw Dean walk into the bedroom.

  Hands in the front pockets of his pants, shoulder hunched, Dean apprehensively walked further in the room. His eyes connected with Frank’s and then he moved directly behind Ellen. His hand lifted and hesitated before he laid it on her shoulder at the same time he laid his lips to the back of Ellen’s head. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to her.

  Ellen’s shoulder’s bounced first, then her head dropped further and she began to cry. Her body turned without thinking and she moved into Dean.

  Frank watched. His heart dropped. It was innocent and without malice, the comfort Dean gave Ellen. Frank knew that. But it still bothered him. Slowly he removed his hand that lay upon the glass pane. He looked at the empty spot at the window that moments before showed him Ellen’s hand. Then after rolling his fingers in a painful, frustrating clench of a fist, Frank looked once more at an embracing Dean and Ellen, then turned and walked away.

  ^^^^

  Former Quantico Marine Headquarters

  “No.” George spoke calmly as he paced a little while on the phone in his office. “No. If you even think he saw you, that was the thing to do . . .” He paused to listen. “I know but sometimes we have to kill people we like. That’s life.” George smiled and was proud at his comforting advice. “Now. Our p
lan of action has to be to stall or destroy any progress they make without bringing suspicion, so incorporate some help, especially that lunatic. He’ll work.” George nodded. “Good. And what’s going on with this Forrest Caceres thing . . . you’re shitting me? Why is everyone so hyped? Never mind, don’t answer that. We’re talking about the people of Beginnings. The same ones that have a goddamn picnic every October just get back to me. Thanks.” George hung up the phone. Not a second after the receiver met the base, George heard a pair of combat boots hitting against the floor. The stride was audible and it carried a heaviness as it drew closer.

  A hard double knock was struck against his door.

  “Come in,” George called out.

  “Sir.” Sgt. Doyle walked inside and immediately closed the door. “Sorry to bother you. We have a problem.”

  “When don’t we?” George sat down behind his desk. “What’s wrong?”

  “The holding camp down near Frederickson was raided. Twenty-two guards down and not a single prisoner waiting on enhancement remains.”

  George sprang up. “What the hell happened? Savages?”

  Sgt. Doyle’s heavy hand came pummeling to George’s desk with a ‘slam’. He lifted, released his fingers, and dropped from his huge hand a red bandana. The tube note rolled out. “Remember Hemsley said he thought it was a trade mark. He was right. We think they’re headed south. Without waiting, sir, I put the order out to find them. I sent out what scout troops I could to canvass the entire southern region. They aren’t a large group. They won’t be easy to find. But we’ll find them. We at least believe this was the last hit.”

  “And why do we believe that?” George asked.

  “Along with arrogance, there is a sense of sincerity in that note.” Sgt. Doyle pointed to it. “You may want to read it.”

  Unrolling the message, George rested his right hand on the bandana as he read the words on the paper that the Captain had written . . .

  We could not leave without saying goodbye. Without taking full blame for what we have done. The Society’s plan to rebuild this country, start it again and protect it from foreign influence are insightful and not without valor. However, the means in which you wish to incorporate this plan is most definitely without heart. Of that we cannot be a part. We are few in your world of many. Because of that we must disappear for a time. But we’ll return somewhere around the period where you’ve reached ‘out of sight, out of mind’. Until then . . . we bid farewell.

  Sgt. Doyle watched George stare at the note. “Sir? What do you make of it?”

  George swiped up the bandana in an angry grip. “What do I make of it? With everything else that’s going on . . .” He crumbled the note and tossed it. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Beginnings, Montana

  Robbie struggled, but his laughing didn’t help. Bending down, he braced Mike the dog under the arms and lifted him to his feet. Feeling that he had him in an upright position, Robbie would start to release. “Now Mike, stand.” As soon as Robbie stepped away, Mike fell down to his hands and knees again. “No.” Robbie grabbed him again. Reaching down for him, Mike snarled and barked, not at Robbie, but at Frank who was walking into the skills room. “Mike, no! Shit . . . Frank put away the gun.” Shaking his head, Robbie pulled Mike from the grip he had on Frank’s pant legs.

  “Do something with him Robbie,” Frank said. “I can’t be coming in here getting attacked by that mutt.”

  “Sorry.” Robbie looked around. He saw Diane. “Diane.” Pulling Mike by the collar, he brought him to her. “See what you can do with the speech thing today. Any luck yesterday?”

  “No. But he did give me his paw to shake.” Diane smiled and took the leash that was attached Mike’s collar. “You know, Ellen is going to have a fit if she finds out you’re doing this. She worked really hard on teaching him new tricks.”

  “Yeah,” Robbie sulked. “But my dad told me yesterday, after Mike snapped at him, that enough was enough. He becomes a viable person or he goes. See what you can do with him, I have to talk to my brother.” Robbie, running his hand over his head, moved to Frank. “What’s up?”

  “I talked to John Matoose. He said he was in bed last night between those hours.”

  “Confirmed. I spoke to Jenny. She said John was sick in bed.”

  “Shit. All right. We still have another option at hand. Walk with me.” Frank began to leave the skills room.

  “What’s the other option?” Robbie asked.

  “Mo . . . I mean Reverend Thomas. Check this out. Henry said he was up by the mobile last night watching them. Just watching them for two nights in a row.”

  “And I’m guessing you’re gonna see if he’s gonna make it a third.”

  “You better believe it,” Frank nodded. “So, I’ll need you to stay with the kids tonight so I can sneak up.”

  “You got it.” The buzzing of the containment door caught Robbie’s attention. The site of his father made him throw an ornery grin at Frank. “Wanna run? There’s Dad. You’re not on his favorite person list today.”

  “Fuck you Robbie,” Frank said disgustedly. “I’m taking off.” Frank slowed his stride as he got to his father. “Dad.”

  “Where are you heading off to so fast?” Joe asked.

  “Home.”

  “Give me a minute.” Joe, laying his hand on Frank’s back, turned him around to speak to him and Robbie. “Robert.” Joe called him with a whistle.

  Thinking, ‘Shit, what did I do, he called me Robert’, Robbie trotted up the hall. “Yeah Dad?”

  Joe pointed backwards with his thumb. “Get some crowd control going outside. We have over half the female population standing out front wanting to see Ellen’s new gift.”

  Drastically, Robbie facially winced. “Aw man. All right. I’ll let them see him.” He turned his head to whistle in a call for the newcomer.

  Joe stopped him. “Before you give the women of Beginnings their little peep show, I just wanted to get both of you boys together. I want to have a meeting with you two, and Jason, concerning this Forrest Caceres trip. I need you two, ASAP to work on something. You’re demented enough. We have to figure out how to stop his death, or at least, let it look like it happened. And we need to decide who is going to go. So tomorrow, early morning, my office. I wanted to take the lot of us up to quarantine and involve Henry in this. He’ll be the logisticalizer again. But, I just spoke to Dean. He says it’s only going to be another four days. We can wait.”

  A moment of silence was a chance at escape. Still feeling tension, Frank just wanted to leave, “Are we done?” He looked at his father then Robbie. “I’m heading home. I have a family to take care of. Dad, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Frank . . .” Joe called out to him. “I was thinking of stopping by tonight. Give you and Robbie a hand with them kids. Is that all right?”

  Frank lifted his hands. “Sure.” He pressed in his security code, the door buzzed, and he left. A few seconds later, even through the steel door, Frank’s loud mouth could be heard. “Shut up. Do I look like Blake?”

  Shaking his head, Joe turned back to Robbie. “I take it he’s still pissed at me for coming down on him?”

  “Um . . .” Robbie looked up to the ceiling in thought. “Yes.”

  “What else is new?” Joe looked at his watch. “Let me take off too. Go get that new guy and flash him for the women so they can disperse, please.”

  “Flash him?” Robbie smiled brightly. “Sure Dad, I’ll flash him.”

  “Good boy.” Joe reached for the security keypad, paused, turned back to see Robbie walking to the skills room. “Nah.” He shook his head. “He wouldn’t.”

  ^^^^

  Logan, Ohio

  The words ‘what now?’ were what raced through the Captain’s mind seconds before he stopped the bus and allowed his head to bang into the steering wheel. He was grateful it was Elliott’s turn. They had alternated at each stop. After waiting what he believe
d to be an absurdly long time, the Captain stood, apologized to his bus load and then stepped off to the old highway.

  Elliott looked frazzled when he walked off the other bus and to the Captain.

  “Well?” The Captain asked.

  “You’re not going to believe it.”

  “Try me.” The Captain tossed his hands up. “Though I can’t imagine what it is. Did I not stop for, not just clothes, but better clothes. They can’t possibly have to go to the bathroom again. I limited their fluid intake. And we already stopped to allow their stomachs to settle. Oh, wait, let’s not forget, we cleared the row on the bus to separate them from the men because they were getting stared at. Stared at.” His voice raised. “They’re bald for crying out loud! I can’t stop staring at them either.”

  Elliott laughed.

  “I’m glad you find humor in this, Elliott. Now, why are we stopping this time?”

  “Ready?” Elliott cleared his throat. “To find . . . feminine protection of sorts. One of them has begun menstruating.”

  It was a gasp, but more so a sound of shocking disgust that came in the form of a grunt from the wincing Captain. “Were our women this bad?”

  “Well . . . kind of sort of.”

  “Kind of sort of?” The Captain asked. “I don’t think they were. In fact, I don’t ever recall a single one of our women . . . menstruating.”

  “Captain,” Elliott said with a snicker.

  “Maybe they’re just a bad batch.” After making that observation, the Captain shook his head at his own thoughts and calmed down, “No. They’re women. And they’re women in a world where there are few. Just like we did, whoever they lived among, spoiled them, did everything for them.” He took a thinking breath, “The way I see it is, we either break them of that being spoiled habit or we continue in it.”

  “Which do you suppose we do?” Elliott asked.