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

by Jacqueline Druga

  The radio dropped from Henry’s hand.

  Mark looked up. “Did he just say babies?”

  Henry grabbed the radio cringing at Jeff’s scream. “Babies?”

  “Marcus . . . plural. They look like baby Marcus’s. Oh God there’s . . .” Robbie shouted in the radio over Jeff’s scream, and the grunting and squealing that became the painful background noise. “There’s ten, twelve. Oh God Twenty.”

  “Shot them!” Henry ordered.

  “I can’t. They’re babies.” Robbie inched to Jeff.

  “Robbie shoot them. They are killers.”

  Robbie felt the pain in his throat. His eyes shifted to Cole and Dan. “We have to.”

  Dan. looked panicked. “They’re babies.”

  Robbie closed his eyes briefly as he brought the scope of the rifle to his view. “God forgive me.” His finger depressed on the trigger. The bullet sail into the rippled and thick leg of the Marcus that clenched on to Jeff. The baby squealed loudly and flew off. “Grab him and fire.”

  Robbie, Cole, and Dan raced for Jeff ,firing. A Marcus leaped at Robbie. He caught glimpse of the fast moving blur coming at him. His fist raised in a fast swatting action, hitting the tough skin creature like a baseball, but not before he felt the sear of his skin as the Marcus teeth grazed against his cheek before it hit the ground.

  Cole and Dan lifted Jeff with one hand while firing blankly into the field at the numerous genetically altered babies which scattered away from their prey but not without taking some with them.

  Robbie fired also as they all backed up as fast as they could. “We can’t get them all.”

  Henry listened with his eyes tightly closed and his hand gripped the radio so hard he could have broken it. His head was lowered as he heard the gunfire. “Just . . . just move out.”

  There was silence.

  Henry’s head lifted. He was filled with fear. “Robbie. Robbie, come in.”

  More silence.

  “Robbie.”

  A hiss of static and Robbie’s emotional voice came through along with the sound of a running Jeep. “Oh God, Henry, we lost three. . . Down . . . down the gate. We’re bringing in Jeff.”

  Robbie wiped the blood from his cheek as he drove then looked behind him to Cole and Dan who held on to Jeff in the back of the Jeep. Was it really Jeff? If Robbie hadn’t seen him go down, he would have never recognized him. It wasn’t the massive amount of blood that covered Jeff’s face that made him unrecognizable. It was the lack of Jeff’s face that caused it.

  ^^^^

  Binghamton, Alabama

  It was in the distance as Hal and Richie pulled to the train station. The locomotive was rolling down the tracks and away from them.

  Hal looked over to the speedometer as Richie drove. “You can catch it.”

  “What?”

  ‘Hit the gas. You can catch it.”

  “The train?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then what?” Richie looked at Hal as his foot depressed the gas pedal.

  “Pass it. Just do it.”

  The Jeep jolted as Richie shifted gears and neared it. “I hope you don’t want me to pull on the tracks cause I have news for you, Hal This Jeep won’t stop it.” He looked over to see Hal loading a clip into a gun. “Neither will those bullets.”

  Joe realized it wasn’t a time to be impatient but the insensitive side of him had to be. He looked at his watch then pushed open the operating doors a little. “Dean?’

  “Joe, please,” Dean said as he operated. “A few more minutes.”

  Joe whistled as he shut the door and looked at Jess. “We’re screwed.”

  “Yep.” Jess looked at his watch. “Big time, cause them things are gonna wake up in fifteen minutes.”

  The movement, the pain, the whistle. Whatever it was that brought Frank to consciousness, he was grateful. He groaned as he held onto his head and sat up. He looked at the crates that surrounded him and then shifted his eyes around. He could see the outside moving. “God.” As he stumbled to his feet, he felt for a gun. He had none. Swearing in his mind, he assessed the situation. He could see the back of the car he was in and there weren’t any behind him. The door at the end could be his escape but Frank couldn’t let himself do it. He knew George was on that train and he wasn’t leaving without taking him down. But first he had to get out of that car.

  Frank laughed a ‘ha.’ and thought how stupid could they be. He spotted the guard’s back through the window of the door to the train. “That’s my guard.” He smirked and sneaked up to the door. Hunching down, he reached up and felt the glass. Frank smiled. He took off his shirt and wrapped it around his right fist. As he stood, his left hand crossed over and gripped onto the handle of the sliding door.

  With a grin Frank sprang to his feet. He grunted loudly as he crashed his shirt-covered hand through the glass, shattered it, and gripped the head of the guard. He yanked his head through the broken window and slid the door open with a vengeance at the same time. It was a Frank-style, sideways guillotine and the head of the guard rolled to the floor.

  The wind of the moving train hit Frank as he pulled the body in and took the rifle. There was some blood on his shirt but Frank didn’t care. He placed it back on and stepped from the car. It was time to find George.

  Next car.

  Standing off to the side, Frank peeked in. Two soldiers. Easy enough. With the butt of the rifle, Frank broke the window, spun the weapon, aimed, and fired two shots. Biting his bottom lip and nodding with arrogance, Frank slid that door open and walked in.

  It must not have dawned on Frank at that instant that sound traveled, because his firing was an alarm that alerted other soldiers. “What the fuck?” Frank blurted, surprised when the far end of the car he was in opened and a brigade of soldiers plowed in. He began to fire, backing up and running out the back of the train. He slid the door shut--as if that would help--and heard the sear of a bullet as it sailed closely to his ear. His eyes caught the ladder on the side of the car and Frank clenched it, swung out, and climbed up.

  “There!” Richie pointed to Frank, seeing him run over top of the car.

  “He’s trying to escape. Honk the horn. Alert him.”

  Richie honked. “What the hell?”

  Frank disappeared when he made it to the end of the car.

  “Richie, speed it up.”

  It was a wide, open-mouth grin that graced Frank’s face as he looked up the car he just climbed from to see the awkwardly moving soldiers running his way. How stupid he thought they were. All they had to do was turn around and they would have had him. But instead that chased him out and over the car.

  Frank looked into the window of the next car and if it was possible, his grinned widened.

  George.

  Frank didn’t have a clear shot, A soldier stood with him, but all he had to do was take out that soldier and he could get George. Break the window and shoot.

  Crash, pump, fire. Down went the soldier. Totally enjoying the panicked look on George’s face, Frank--feeling like Jason from Friday the Thirteenth--slid open the door, looking like the homicidal maniac going after his victim.

  Frank pumped the chamber and fired. Nothing.

  George took that momentary opportunity and bolted toward the next door. Frank dropped the rifle, charged out with two steps, leaped forward, and sailed into George. They crashed on the floor of the moving train just as the back door of George’s car burst open and the remaining soldiers that had chased Frank before came in.

  Frank jumped up, bringing George with him as a shield. He backed up to the door, holding George in a brace to his neck. “I’ll snap his neck!” Frank yelled out.

  The soldiers all aimed.

  “Nah.” Frank smiled. “Better yet.” Still holding George with his right arm, Frank raised his left, and in it was the syringe. With his teeth, he uncapped it. “Bye-bye, George.” Frank grunted slightly or a dramatic effect and George screamed painfully when the needle of the syringe
stabbed into his neck and Frank plunged the liquid into him. Frank slid the door behind him opened and shoved George forward to the soldiers. Frank then raced to the next car but not without being chased.

  The Jeep flew passed the train and Hal could see Frank running and looking up as he did. “He’s looking for a ceiling hatch.”

  “Should I go back? We’re near the front of the train.”

  “No.” Hal stood up and moved to the back of the Jeep.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Pull as close as you can to the train.”

  “What?”

  “Do it.”

  “Oh God.” Richie was never one to drive with his eyes closed, but he felt like he wanted to at that moment. He neared so closely to the train that he felt the heat of the locomotive. “Hal, don’t . . .”

  “Stay close by.” Hal balanced and reached out. “Ready and . . .” he leaped from the Jeep, catching the ladder of the second to first car. His body swung back and forth as the Jeep moved out and turned around. Hal stopped swinging enough to climb up.

  In Frank’s run he saw the Jeep with Richie driving. He looked back then moved to the window, pounding against it.

  Richie saw him and pointed up.

  Frank nodded with a thumbs up. He looked at the ceiling hatch, keeping his eyes peered on Richie. He couldn’t figure out who Richie was honking and indicating to at that moment, but Frank knew he was screwed when the back door to that car slid open and the firing began.

  Hal nodded to Richie as he leaped in his run to the moving car Frank was in. He spotted the open ceiling hatch and dropped to his stomach, extending his red gloved hand in. “Frank, come on.”

  Frank saw the UWA glove and gripped the hand that levered him up. Another hand braced his arm and Frank scurried to the roof of the train, kicking the hatch closed with his foot.

  Hal fell backwards from the force of pulling Frank up. The combination of his loss of balance and the moving train caused Hal to roll. Just as he sailed face forward off the side, the speeding ground so close, he felt a grip to his ankle and the weight of his body being snatched back up. The metal edge of the train slid against his gut as he was pulled to safety. On his stomach, he caught his balance. When he felt his ankle released, he began to roll himself over.

  “Are you . . . UH!” Frank shrieked in the shock of seeing Hal.

  “Frank.”

  “Fuck. Hal!”

  “We have to get out of here.”

  “Hal!”

  “Frank!” Hal’s eyes shifted.

  “Hal!”

  “Frank!”

  “What!”

  “SUTs.”

  Frank looked. “Fuck.”

  Both Slagels, who still weren’t standing, grabbed the roof and stood. At the end of the car, shooting and coming their way, were soldiers.

  They took off running toward the front of the car.

  “Climb down!” Frank ordered as he passed Hal going over the edge in a jump and gripping the ladder.

  Hal repeated Frank’s actions and both brothers held on to the rungs. They could hear the tromping of the soldiers coming their way. “Now what, Frank?”

  “Jump?”

  Hal looked to the moving ground then up above him. “Sure, why not?”

  “Ready?”

  “You first.”

  “Ha! Baby. Move with the train.” Frank took a breath and jumped in the same direction that the train moved. Seconds afterward, he started rolling on the ground, away from the train. Hal was rolling right along with him. They rolled for while and when they stopped, the train was moving onward.

  Frank picked himself up, lifting Hal and embracing him. “Oh my God.”

  Hal grinned. “I’m still moving, wait.”

  “No.” Frank swung him around. “God, look at you.” Frank kissed his brother. “Man.”

  As Hal was set to his feet, he saw Richie pull up. “Come on, Frank. We have to go back and help Dad.”

  “Dad? Dad’s here?” Frank asked as they ran to the Jeep.

  “Yeah.” Hal said, jumping in.

  “Does he know you’re alive?”

  Hal’s mouth opened then shut. He bit his bottom lip and looked at Richie. “Drive faster, Richie.”

  “Jesus Christ, Dean, come on,” Joe yelled.

  Jess looked at his watch. “Time’s up.”

  Dean held a knapsack. “Let me finish getting supplies to keep him alive.”

  Joe’s hand covered his face.

  “SUTs.” Hal stated as he, Frank, and Richie pulled to the side gate.

  Frank fluttered his lips. “If we had the weaponry, we could take them.”

  “Nah.” Hal smiled. “Let’s just stun them.”

  “Stun them?” Frank questioned.

  “Yeah.” Hal inched his way back to the woods. “Stun them and walk right in.”

  Frank nodded. “That’ll work. How?”

  Hal uncovered the de-scrambler. He pressed the button.

  Frank closed off his ears at the annoying bird like whistle. He leaned to a silent Richie, whispering, “When we go find my Dad, you know what to do. Right?”

  Richie nodded.

  ^^^^

  Beginnings, Montana

  Robbie held a cloth to his face tightly in the examining room when Henry walked in. “Henry, how’s Jeff?”

  Henry shook his head. “It’s not good, Robbie. I . . . I had to call El back.”

  Robbie closed his eyes. “Henry, we have to . . .”

  “Sgt. Ryder is keeping the kids with the UWA soldiers in Miles City. We need her back here, Robbie. We’ll watch her.”

  “How did you know about it?”

  “I just did.” Henry reached out and grabbed Robbie’s hand, removed the cloth, and looked at the bite mark. Henry stepped back, hiding his gag. “Yep, we need her. For the injuries and . . . for the problem.”

  “How do you mean?” Robbie asked.

  “Well, if she can create them.” Henry raised his eyebrows. “Maybe she can figure out how to kill them.”

  ^^^^

  Binghamton, Alabama

  “Done.” Dean came out of a back room. “Ready?”

  Joe tossed his hands up as he and Jess stood by the gurney where John Matoose lay. “It’s about time.”

  “Sorry, Joe. I had to get supplies.”

  Joe grabbed hold of the gurney and pushed it with Jess. “We’ll carry him once we get outside.”

  “Joe?” Jess asked. “Who hit the de-scrambler again.”

  “Us!” Hal said as he and Frank walked in.

  “Dad!” Frank charged to his father. “Oh man. Did you see Hal?”

  Joe’s gratefulness in seeing his son was overshadowed by Frank’s lack of common sense. “No, Frank, I didn’t. Hal, I’ll be damned. You’re alive.”

  “Joe.” Jess pushed on the cart. “What did you say to that little guy? Family reunion later?”

  “You got a point.”

  Frank looked at John Matoose as they wheeled him to the front. “Shot, huh?”

  Dean grumbled, “You’re an ass, Frank.”

  They arrived at the front. Joe took hold of one side of John. “Now we’ll take him out as quickly as we can. I’m assuming . . . Richie?” Joe said Richie’s name in shock when Richie walked in. “I thought you’d be waiting.”

  Richie held the door open for Joe and Jess who quickly carried John. “They’re out there, Frank.”

  Hal and Dean looked confused. “Who?”

  Joe’s loud, “Christ” carried in the clinic.

  Hal hurried out along with Dean. Richie and Frank took their time, walking out last.

  In front of the building was every single Society soldier on base. And they were armed.

  Joe shifted his eyes around. “Any suggestions?’

  “Yeah.” Frank stepped forward and ahead of Joe and Jess. He faced the Society soldiers. “Gentleman. What do you have to say?” Frank shouted out.

  The boots clicked in a stomping on the
ground. The large group of men joined in formation. “One, two, yes we can, Colonel Slagel is the man. Ooh-rah!”

  Frank grinned and turned around to face a shocked, Dean, Jess , Hal, and Joe. “Meet Beginnings newest army members, trained by me. Now tell me who gets the Neville points. Ha!.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  October 1

  Beginnings, Montana

  Robbie swayed his head, handing Henry back the Beginnings paper with the huge headline, ‘KILLER BABIES SEIZE BEGINNINGS.’

  Henry chuckled also as they headed into Tracking. “National Enquirer again?”

  “This time it’s true,” Robbie said. “Hopefully Ellen’s poison is working.”

  “And if not . . .” Henry opened the door to Tracking. “We all worked our asses off to get those fences up. We’ll keep them out until we kill them.”

  “Hey, Mark,” Robbie said. “Any movement in sector thirty-two?”

  “Nope. It’s been fading steadily.”

  “Yes!” Robbie gave Henry a high five. “Mad scientist El.”

  “She said it wouldn’t work though.”

  “Hey, it kills rabbits, right?” Robbie smiled. “A stomach is a . . .”

  A loud high pitch beeping began to go off.

  Henry stepped to the screen. “Mark.”

  “Holy shit.” Mark pushed his chair back. “We’re getting invaded. They’re coming to the back gate.” Black blinking lights went mad. “Henry?”

  “How many.”

  Mark clicked on the computer screen. “Oh shit. Two hundred and seventy-three.”

  Robbie raced to the door yelling into his radio. “Security hit the . . .”