It was well after midnight when Ellen returned to the larger room where all of her children, even the healthy ones were and slept. Dean was there, he held Brian. Frank sat in a chair cradling a sleeping Alex, and Robbie paced with a restless Joey. They all had to be there, because there had to be enough arms to hold the children who so desperately needed comfort.
She kissed all of her children, then dropped so tired at Frank’s feet, leaning on his legs and grabbing Alexandra’s tiny hand in hers. “Henry says it’s quiet for a while.” She nuzzled to Frank’s knee.
Dean rested his head against Brian’s. “For a while.”
Frank ran his hand down Alexandra’s face, speaking to Dean and not taking his eyes off of her. “You’re gonna keep trying, Dean, right? You’re gonna keep trying to help our kids.”
“With my heart ...” Dean hesitated and took a deep breath when his emotions started to take over him, he held Brian tighter. “With my heart and soul, Frank. I’ll give it everything I have and more.”
Ellen looked up at Dean. “How are we going to do this? All of these people are sick. We have to work on a cure. We have to help these people. Medicate them. How are we going to do this?”
Robbie stopped in his pace, his head lifted in a thinking look, then saw Dean sway his head so at a loss. “We’ll figure something out,” Robbie said. “But can one of you tell me, how many, how many in Beginnings are sick? How many are we looking at caring for?”
Ellen lifted her head. “Maybe it would be easier to ask, how many in Beginnings aren’t sick?”
Dean saw them look to him for an answer and he knew it. “Not including those of us immune?” He swallowed harshly. “None.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
AUGUST 18
Henry heard the commotion at the end of the main hallway even through the early morning moans that came from those suffering from the new plague. Dropping the needle he was getting ready to inject in Danny Hoi, he headed with haste to the arguing that entailed. “What’s going on?”
Dean stood facing off with Robbie. “Tell him, Henry, get them out of my clinic.”
Henry looked to the large group of men who stood behind Robbie. “Robbie?”
“Tell him to pipe his ass down. We had a rough night. He needs to work on the virus. We need all the help we can get. Here are twenty-seven healthy and immune hands, ready and willing to help out.” Robbie pointed to the Society defectors he brought in two days earlier. “They volunteered. Let them help.”
Henry looked to Dean. “We need help. They can wipe down. They can change bedclothes. They can do the work and care so you can beat this thing, Dean.”
Dean tossed his hands up. “All right,” he said strongly then pointed to Robbie. “If anything goes wrong. If they do anything wrong. It’s on your head.”
After Dean disappeared into the lab, Robbie flipped him off. He faced the twenty-seven men. “OK, you know what to do. You know what I told you. Any questions, find the little blonde with the big mouth and she’ll tell you what needs done. Move it out.” Robbie waited until they all rushed down the hall by him and he smiled at Henry. “Thanks.”
Henry couldn’t think about what was going on, his mind was elsewhere. But now he had more help. That’s what mattered, that and the people of Beginnings. So Henry returned to doing what he had to do. And that was helping the people he lived among.
<><><><>
“Come on.” Dean beckoned with emotions as he tried with everything he had to revive little Kimmy. “Breathe.”
“Dean.” Ellen pulled him back. “She’s gone.”
“No.” He shrugged her away.
“She’s been gone for nine minutes, Dean,” Ellen spoke strongly in his ear. “She is gone. Let ...” Ellen’s voice dropped with emotions. “Let her go.”
Letting out a long grunt, Dean’s hands slammed down hard to the edge of the bed rattling it. He pulled harshly in a spin from Ellen, Held up his arm and stormed out of the room.
“Dean.” She followed him as he made an enraged dash to his lab. “Dean.” Just before she stepped inside, she heard the loud crashing and banging. She walked into see Dean clearing things from the counter. “Stop it.” She rushed to him. “Stop.”
“We’re losing.” He looked at her, his face red.
“We’re still fighting,” Ellen spoke almost afraid of the expression on his face.
“But we’re losing the battle! The symptoms are taking over, El,” Dean screamed out stepping away. “Our children. Our children, Ellen, are dying. And there is nothing we can do about it. Nothing. We had this thing.” His hand slammed on the counter. “We had this thing and we failed to do with it what we should.” With a hard swing Dean sent a stack of folders flying outward spraying their papers about the lab.
“And do you think, throwing things is gonna save them? Do you think screaming about it is gonna help.”
“No ... yes.”
“Yes?” Ellen said stunned.
“Yes.” He stormed to her. “Maybe if I shouted loud enough, maybe the powers that be will hear me!” He looked to the ceiling. “Maybe he’ll get off his ass and help us this time. God damn you.” He pointed up throwing his body with it. “God damn you for letting this happen again. This is your world. How can you let it die all over again.”
“Dean.” Ellen reached for him as he gripped the counter and dropped his head. “Come on.”
“No.” He pulled away. “No!” He ran his hand harshly through his hair. “Kimmy was the first to die. In this time and in the future we went to. You wanna know who’s gonna die next. I can tell you. Cole.” Dean picked up a folder. “And not because I’m a psychic but because it was all given to us. Every single thing that would happen was documented, Ellen.” He slammed the folder down. “Look around. Look at the cots. The number of people. We ignored it. We hoped it wouldn’t get to this. But all the hoping it the world couldn’t stop it. Did we cause it to happen faster? Look at the fridge.” Dean walked to it and opened it. “This scares me. This is the same sight I saw when we opened that fridge in the future.” He slammed it closed. “When we came to the future we saw Robbie walking around. Maybe had we pulled the notes from further back we would have seen the reason for his beating the virus. Robbie probably had it before anyone else in that future too. Look at who is not sick. You, me, Henry, and Johnny. Billy?” Dean laughed in disbelief. “Not only are the survivors the same but we played right into the future’s hand. We secured it. We gave ourselves the vaccination to ensure we’d beat it. And when I heard Billy’s name pulled ...” He swayed his head. “I should have known. Billy beat it in the future. We never were stopping this, El, we were just living what was meant to happen that’s all. The only difference is we had a big preview.”
“No!” Ellen shouted at him. “You are wrong. There are things that are not the same.”
“That is true,” Dean spoke with edge and anger. “How about the fact that instead of the virus hitting in strains two, then one, then three. The virus hit us in the strains, three then two, but no strain one. How is that? How can we have strain twos without ever having a strain one invasion? I can see if they dropped it on us like they did with the third strain. But they didn’t. These people that have strain two, they were exposed a week ago. A week. What happened, El? Did we miss it?” Dean threw his hand up walking to her. “We did, didn’t we? We had to have missed the invasion, the exposure.”
“Dean ...”
“No, El, think about it. Think.” He pointed to his temple while bracing her shoulders. “We’re missing it, we’re missing it and that is our key. How did they get exposed? Who was the host? Someone brought it in. Something brought it in here a week ago. What happened a week ago that was different than any documentation we had from the future. What is different? What is it that we’re not ...” Dean went silent, his eyes widened, “... seeing.”
“Dean?”
“No.” He closed his eyes. “It can’t be that simple. Yes it is.” He opened his
eyes and turned from her. “The food supply. Lace the food supply. So unsuspecting.”
“Dean?” Ellen watched him walk to the counter. “What are you ...” A loud slam of Dean’s hand caused Ellen to shriek. “Dean!”
“Can you be it?” Dean’s eyes raised at the same time he brought into his view, wiggling in his hand, a furry grey mouse. “There’s one to find out.” In one sweeping motion, Dean slammed the mouse back down to the counter, reached into his pocket, pulled out a pen, raised it high, then stabbed it with force into the body of the mouse. The mouse squealed loudly as the pen went through him, pinning him to the counter. “El, get me a slide.” Dean held his hand out keeping his eyes peered to the mouse. The second he felt the slide touch upon his hand was the second his eyes focused in on the trickle of blood that flowed from the mouse. And unwillingly doing so, Dean’s gift from Henry kicked in with his focus. The small trickle grew closer to him. Engulfing his vision first in all red, then deeper red, then white, then circles of molecules, cells moving about, and then ... the virus. Dean concentrated harder. In his vision it was like he himself was standing inside the blood of that mouse, it swam in his peripheral vision. And the closer Dean focused in on it, the more Dean could see it. And with a huge grin and excited slam of his hand with a ‘yes’ Dean spun around to Ellen. “We got it!” He grabbed her and kissed her hard. “We got it!” He ran out of the lab racing down the halls. “Robbie! Robbie!”
Robbie came out of a patient room. “Dean, what is ...”
“Where are the twenty-seven men you brought in?” Dean asked him.
“They’re helping out. Henry said they could.”
“Get them. Get them now. You get them and you send them back out, you join them too, get Henry. All of you go out and find me every single mouse you can. Gather them up and bring them in. We got it. We got our host. We’re gonna beat this thing.” He spun from Robbie and raced down the hall. With a loud, screaming ‘whew!’ as he skipped up in a jump, Dean grabbed hold of Ellen who stood in the hall, lifted her in a hug, spun her around, kissed her excitedly and set her down. He then grabbed her hand, pulling her back into his lab to begin their work. And they would start by taking advantage of the sacrificed rodent who bled upon their counter. His blood was still fresh, it held the host virus, and most of all it was a quick start to the end of it all.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
AUGUST 19
It was early, but not too early to begin checking on the progress of the antidote that Dean had administered. After draining the host virus, creating a serum, injecting the virus into everyone, then hitting them with Agent Seventeen, It was well into the late night. But before the previous day’s end, there wasn’t a soul in Beginnings who was sick and who hadn’t been given the cure. Unfortunately, like Dean had been saying since the beginning, the virus wasn’t as deadly as the symptoms themselves. And it was evident when some who were stricken failed to respond at all. There was always a down side to every up. Beginnings may have not stopped the virus from coming, but they certainly stopped it from claiming all of the lives that the future told them it would take. And even with the loss of some lives, Beginnings could claim this as their victory. Because they were still standing when it was all said and done. They were still alive.
<><><><>
It was a different feel in the hospital, while making that first set of rounds. Dean could hear it in the noise level. Chattering instead of moaning. And it was so clear to him that his antidote worked at least on one individual. Joe. He was buttoning his white shirt when Dean walked in the room. “Joe.” Dean laughed. “What are you doing? Get back to bed.”
“I’m feeling better, Dean. And I’m sure you can use help.”
“Yeah, getting Frank to get into bed. He’s sick, Joe.”
“I’ll talk to him.” Joe sat on the bed as he finished tucking in his shirt. “How did you do it? How did you find it you son of a bitch.”
“Well your daughter is going to tell you it was divine intervention. I kinda had a shouting match at the big guy.” Dean pointed up. “But I was standing there rambling, trying to think what could have brought it in. And then I saw him, the mouse. It was so simple, yet scary. What better way to get us all then to lace our food supply. The mice go into the fields, nibble on the food, we eat the food. All of our men were probably exposed to it already. But when the gas hit them, it was such an abundance it took over immediately. George planned it all to happen. It wouldn’t surprise me if he planned it all to happen in the same day.”
“You said our food supply is laced. Is it safe now?”
“Yes. We’re all immune.” Dean nodded.
“So I’m going to take it that the antidote was a success.”
“If you want to.” Dean looked sad. “See, for the most part, people are responding well. Some are responding slower than others, and unfortunately, some aren’t responding at all.”
“How can that be?”
“The symptoms, Joe. The symptoms have them. They are not dying of our virus, they’re dying from the ravishing effects of the symptoms. It’s the weaker ones, Joe. The old and ...”
“The children.”
Dean’s head dropped. “We’ve lost ... we’ve lost kids, Joe. And I’m fearing we’re gonna lose more before it’s all done. They’re fighting with everything they have. We’re giving them everything we have. But it may not be enough.”
“How many people have we lost total, Dean?”
Dean hesitated before answering. “We lost three adults so far and six children.”
“Six.” Joe closed his eyes. “We only had thirty.”
“I don’t want to think about it.” Dean backed up. “And ... And I really should go check on patients.”
“Dean,” Joe called out to him. “I know you’re blaming yourself for the losses. But you have to know. You did all you could, you and Ellen did more than that. You stopped it. You stopped fate from being so cruel to us again.”
Dean nodded slowly in appreciation to Joe, he moved from the room. What he needed to see was good results, and for that all he would have to do is look at the numbers of people whom the day before couldn’t open their eyes. People who walked and talked now. That was his good results and that would make Dean feel better.
<><><><>
It was music to Ellen’s ears. The sound of Alexandra’s giggles flowing out into the hall as Ellen approached her children’s room. She put on a bright smile and cheerfully walked in. “Alex.”
“Mommy.” Alexandra sat up reaching out her arms.
“Hey, Sweetie.” Ellen kissed her and hugged her. “You look so much better today.”
“I feel so much better. Look, Billy drew on my hand.”
Ellen looked down to the flowery artwork. “Nice.” She turned some in her seat on the bed looking at Frank’s back as he leaned over the crib. “Frank did you see how good Alex looks to ... Frank?”
When he spoke, he barely spoke. “El.”
“Frank, what’s wrong?” She stood from the bed. “Frank.”
Frank turned his head to her, his eyes were red. “Something ... something is wrong with Brian.”
Ellen edged her way to the crib, when she looked down at her son she nearly wanted to fall over. “Oh my God.” She pulled out her stethoscope and listened to his chest.
“El.” Frank stroked Brian’s head while holding his hand. “Help him.”
Ellen began to hyperventilate, she backed up. “Billy, take Alex from this room hurry.” Her words held tears. “Frank. I’ll get Dean.” Jumping across Alexandra and Billy as she darted from the room, Ellen skid in a stop of terror at the anguish scream that came from the room down the hall.
Jenny’s scream.
Ellen had heard that scream before, she had made that scream herself. Afraid to look, Ellen turned her head toward that room and she saw Jenny. She sobbed uncontrollably, unable to stand up, John held onto her for support as she cradled her lifeless daughter in her arms. “Oh God.” Ellen brea
thed out and raced down the hall again, more than anything she did not want that to be her again. “Dean!” She cried out in panic. “Dean!”
“Ellen, what’s wrong?” Dean flew out of a room.
Ellen caught her breath between her words. “Bri ... Brian. There’s something wrong with Brian.”
Like the two of them were in a race together, they ran down the hall back to Brian’s room.
Frank still stood the same way. He looked so desperate at Dean when Dean walked in. “Help him, Dean. Help my son.”
The visual of Brian was more than Dean could handle when the small boy came in his full view. Brian lay upon his back, his arms spread out. As Dean placed his hand on his leg, he could feel the coolness of it, dry. It matched the pale grey hue that had cast over Brian. His green, now grey, eyes stared out blankly, he didn’t blink. And the only sign that give hint that he was still alive was the struggling breaths that the baby took. Breaths that weren’t eased by the oxygen that flowed into him. Huffing breaths, short, quick, almost gasping. And little Brian’s head twitched slightly to the right with every breath he fought to take. They were the only sound that filled that room.
Hovering close to Brian, Frank’s squeezed his hand. “Dean, come on help him.”
Dean closed his eyes tightly, he knew. No amount of medical knowledge, no amount of hope or praying was going to help.
“Dean.” Frank sounded as if he begged.
Dean’s hand widened over Brian’s leg, his head dropped and he raised only his eyes to Ellen who stood on the other side of the crib. In his grip onto Brian, Dean felt his entire being tense up as if his soul were getting ready to leave him. His chest hurt, his ears rang. The breathing, Brian’s breathing ... Huff ... huff ... huff ... huff ...
The Big Ten: The First Ten Books of the Beginnings Series Page 342
