Elliott chuckled.
“It’s not funny.”
“Yes, it is. Your brother is funny.”
“And how about the way he won?” Hal shook his head. “He threatened a suicide. Who in God’s name does that work for?”
“Frank.”
“Frank.” Hal opened the door to the saloon.
“What?” Slurp.
Hal cocked an eyebrow. It was his brother’s voice, but it sounded like he was drinking from a straw. He turned. “Frank, what are you doing here?”
“Getting my prize.” Frank held up a big drink with a straw. “I tried to ride with you, but you kept ignoring me.”
“I wasn’t ignoring you, Frank. I probably couldn’t hear you over the I Need a Hero song.”
“That’s a cool tune.”
“Yes.”
“It’s my theme song.”
“Who wouldn’t have thought?” Hal looked at his drink. “You’re drinking from a straw?”
“Yes, I am. It’s a new Slurpee style drink.”
“That’s a Slurpee?”
“Yep. Want some?” Frank showed.
“Yes.” Hal took it. “I loved these as a kid.”
“I know. Give it back, it’s mine.”
“Fine. Can I get these in town?” Hal returned the drink.
“Yeah, but they’re closed now. Their called Hoi Heaven.”
“Oh my God.” Hal shook his head. “Well, Elliott and I are going to have an early evening drink. I’d invite you along . . .”
“Got one.” Frank held up the big drink.
“I see that.”
“Oh, Hal, before I forget.” Frank snapped his finger. “Your one guy, Rodgers, the man who does Cemetery watch. He’s training with my guys tonight, so Robbie is sending one of our guys for that shift.”
“Not a problem.”
“He may be a little late, but he should be there on or around two am. He’s pulling a double.”
“That’s pretty late, Frank, considering the shift stars at nine and ends at four.”
“No,” Frank said. “Robbie changed that, remember. He figured no one’s gonna grave dig till after four anyhow, so he has the man from two till sun up now.”
“Patrolling.”
“No, Hal, sitting there.”
Hal’s mouth dropped open. “When did all this go down?”
“When you busted Robbie in the Cemetery. A week later Robbie said if he was gonna have a séance, someone else might and we’d better stop it, and put a guard on consistently.”
“Fuck. I forgot.”
“Happens.” Frank slurped his drink. “See ya later.”
“Yeah.” Hal watched Frank walks away. “My brother is covering.”
“Frank?” Elliott asked.
“No, Robbie. Did you recall that?” Hal asked Elliott.
“Not really, but it was probably something we misconstrued.”
“Didn’t think twice about,” Hal added. “Of course Robbie wants a guard. He doesn’t want anyone to see what he did.”
“Which is?”
“I don’t know, but . . .” Hal looked at his watch. “We have several hours to find out. Let’s get that drink first.”
Hal walked into the saloon.
Shaking his head, Elliott murmured, “He still wants to go.” And followed him in.
****
There was general concern. How could there not be. Something so simple, yet so disturbing had resurfaced. The clinic thought for sure it was gone, eradicated, but their medical knowledge should have let them know otherwise. Nothing can ever be eradicated as long as it exists in laboratories. Not that Beginnings even had a sample of the virus. They could have. Who knew?
They had a treatment for the virus, not a cure, not an inoculation as originally thought. Like smallpox, it was treatable with some damage, but unlike smallpox, it would always rear its ugly head.
Ellen had gone home for the day when the pandemonium broke out in the Containment. Only one case. But one case was enough to start a panic.
Jess was on duty. He didn’t want to call Ellen in, it was probably one of the only nights she would have her date with Frank.
So he called Robbie. He had been exposed, pretty much immune, and knew the signs and symptoms the best.
Robbie gave the Containment resident a once over and took him to the clinic.
Jess waited outside of the exam room for Andrea to emerge.
Robbie returned with a cup of coffee. “Richie is covering over there.”
“Thanks,” Jess accepted the coffee. “Did he make sure he reiterated to the other residents not to say a word.”
“Actually, Jess, no one would believe the residents, but it’s not Containment I worry about. It’s here. Word could get out here.”
“What do you think?”
“I’m no medical expert,” Robbie said. “We have to wait for the expert to come out of that room.”
“Does it look like it?”
“Very much so. Classic symptoms.”
“Shit. Shit. I was spared too. Should we quarantine?”
The door to the exam room opened with Andrea sighing out a ‘Yes’. She nodded, “Quarantine might not be a bad idea. Keep those out of Containment who haven’t had it. At least till we see if this outbreak was contained.”
“”Is he resting?” Jess asked.
“Yes, he’ll be fine once treatment is finished.” Andrea leaned against the door. “Sweet Jesus, I can’t believe this. Elvis has the brain flu.”
“I heard he has a bad case,” Jess said.
“I’d classify it as severe.”
“Technically speaking,” Robbie held up a finger. “He could have had it when he arrived. After all he was sick, and he thinks he’s Elvis.”
“All classic symptoms we ignored. Who knew it was beyond our walls,” Andrea said. “Well, I’m going to go check the other residents of Containment. If they show signs, I will have to treat them all.”
“I’d leave them there,” Robbie suggested. “Like chicken pox, let them all get it at once, treat them at once.”
“Good idea, sweetheart.” Andrea kissed him on the cheek. “Just so exasperating.”
“I know. You do well, though.”
“Thank you.”
Waiting for her to leave, Robbie shook hands with Jess. “I’m heading out. There’s a call I have to make before I head home.”
“Everything ok?”
“Yeah, just have to call Burt in monitoring.” Robbie started to leave.
“Robbie. He’s uh, mute.”
“I know.”
“Why are you calling him?”
“To tell him something. It’s Ok, I don’t need a response.” Smiling in his way, Robbie walked away. But as soon as he was out of sight, the smile dropped from his face.
****
It was the first time, in a long time, if ever, Joe could recall getting a scolding from one of his sons, and taking it.
“I know. I know.” Joe said.
Robbie said, though funny, he had to stop hanging out at Containment.
Joe defended himself by saying he wanted to talk to Elvis, and knew the brain flu story would work.
It did.
For now. Just be more careful.
Joe agreed and went back to his watch. It wasn’t going to be a bad night. He had his spiked tea and Oodles of Dan Noodles had started to grow on him.
Bowl steaming, darkness falling over the communities, Joe turned on the night vision for the cameras and watched while he ate.
He was on his final heaping forkful, when he lifted his eyes.
“What the hell? Goddamn it.” A shake of his head, he lifted the phone. “Robert. You better answer.”
****
It was evident by the noise that Frank had hit the bottom of the drink.
Robbie snickered. “You enjoyed that didn’t you?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“That’s funny. You know Dad used to call them idiot st
icks because only an idiot wouldn’t know when he was finished with his drink.”
“Yeah, but a non idiot would want every drop.”
“Can’t argue with that logic.” Robbie paused to answer the phone. “Hey Da . . . Burt. What’s up?” His eyes lifted. “You’re kidding. When? I’m on my way. Thanks.”
“Who’s DaBurt?” Frank asked.
“The guy in Monitoring. I have to head out to the cemetery.” Robbie headed to the truck. “Seems we have a breach there.”
“No fuckin shit. DaBurt? Is he the same as Burt?”
“Yeah, just my own personal nick name. Da man. Da Burt.”
Frank nodded once. “Isn’t he mute?”
Robbie paused. “Um, yeah.”
“But you were talking to him.”
“Yes,” Robbie reached for the truck handle.
“How? If he can’t speak how did he tell you about the cemetery?”
“Code. He presses different tones for each message. We worked it out.”
“I didn’t get it the memo.”
“Shit. I’ll get it to you.”
“Thanks. So what’s the code?”
“For?”
‘Breach in cemetery. Just in case I take the call and hear the numbers.”
“Three, three seven four.”
“Thanks.”
“Did you want to go?” Robbie asked.
“Sure.” Frank opened the passenger side door. “Let’s bust them. Who is breaching the cemetery? Do we know?”
“Yep. Hal.”
“Fuck. That can’t be? Hal”
“Yep.”
“Burt the mute guy said Hal.”
“Yep.”
“Fuck. Hal breaching the cemetery.”
“Exactly. Shocking it isn’t it?” Robbie asked.
“Fuck yeah. I can’t believe we have a code for Hal. Do we have one for me?”
Robbie got in the truck.
****
Tick tock. Tick tock.
For about the tenth time Ellen looked at her watch and followed it with a huff.
Dean was there in the living room, all primed to watch the kids so Ellen could have her date with Frank. But there was one problem. Frank was nowhere to be found.
“Have you tried calling him?”
“Yep. No answer.”
“How late is he?”
“An hour and a half.”
“Maybe he’s busy.”
“More than likely, last I heard Dan said Burt the mute guy sent Robbie out to the cemetery and he thought Frank might be with him.”
“Have you tried Robbie?”
“Dean.” Ellen snapped. “Of course. Gees.” She turned and went toward the kitchen.
Dean followed, leaning in the doorway smiling when he saw the phone in her hand. “You didn’t.”
She waved him off. “Oh, hey Robbie. By chance do you have my husband with you?” A pause. “And how long do you think you’ll be?” Another pause. “Ok, thanks, tell him I’m going out.” Pause. “Thanks, bye.” She hung up.
“Frank’s with him?”
“Yes and he doesn’t mind if I am going out.” She started to dial.
“Who are you calling now?”
“Josh. I’m gonna get him to baby sit.”
“I’m here.”
“For now. But I wanted a date tonight and you have to take me.”
Dean grinned. “Sweet.”
****
Chaka looked down to his stomach wound. It was healing nicely, another day or two and he’d be in full shape.
He had eaten, his stomach not as full as he’d like, and boredom consuming him, he decided to take a walk from his hiding area.
He’d stay deep in the woods so as not to attract any problems. He didn’t want to chance re-injuring himself, and that would happen if he had to battle.
Not far into the walk he caught the scent. It carried in the wind, but a part of it was masked with a sweetness, almost flower smell. Immediately, as it is supposed to do, the scent triggered a reaction in him.
Where? Where did it come from?
He was drawn.
It was a delicacy. Something in his world they would not take for granted. Something they could only have once a three moon cycle, which was a long time. Twice in that element of time if they did something brave or commendable, they would be rewarded.
But where? Where did it come from?
Chaka hadn’t noticed any holding areas at all. No pits. And though it was distinctively the scent, it wasn’t strong.
What if in this place things were different? What if there were no laws governing the devouring? What if, in this world he was permitted to have a pet?
Chaka knew the chances of that. It was wishful thinking he and many others have had. A perfect world would be to work, fight, then come home to a willful pet. To divulge and desire not once or twice a cycle, but once or twice before the rising sun.
But then again, that was a perfect world and they did not exist. That was what he thought until he spotted the small dim light of fire. Just a small fire, one designed to not draw attention. As he darted back, he spotted the source of the scent.
No others around. No owner. Alone?
Perhaps things were different in this world, Chaka thought, and if a pet of scent could roam so free and peaceful, then his approach should mark it.
In was bred in him to follow that scent and he did.
****
Hal would have preferred to shut the doors of the Mausoleum, but knew if he didn’t he and Elliott would never hear an approach.
Hal dealt with Elliott’s fear over what they did. But like Robbie, Hal had to see for himself. It took a lot, but they released the lid to the tomb and carefully placed it askew on top of the concrete vault.
Enough to expose the coffin and enough for them to open the lid to the coffin.
“Someone’s coming.” Elliott said.
Hal jolted a look over his shoulder, catching the headlights. “Quick, close and secure the doors.”
Moving as if he didn’t want to Elliott hurried to the doors, he reached to close them but before he could a hand slammed into the door stopping him.
“Shit.” Elliott whispered.
“What?” Hal asked.
“Frank.”
Hal stepped back.
“Hal,” Frank walked in. “What are you doing?”
Hal hid his grin, it was Frank. He knew he could tell Frank anything and he’d buy it. “Well, Frank, I was . . .” His eyes shifted. Robbie walked in. “Fuck.”
Elliott sort of backed up, raised hands in surrender, shifting his eyes to Hal who looked angry.
“Hal, put the vault lid back on. Let’s go.” Robbie said.
“Not until I look,” Hal said.
“Captain.”
“Hal.” Frank walked nearer to Hal, speaking low. “This is, you know, kind of fucked up and weird.”
“Robbie did it,” Hal defended.
“You got a point, but does it make it right?” Frank asked.
“No. And I am in the wrong? But I am not going anywhere until I open the coffin.”
Robbie shook his head. “Hal, you aren’t opening the coffin.”
“Yes, Robbie, I am.”
“Why?” Frank asked. “Tell me why this is so important to you.”
“Because I have to see for myself, Frank. I have to.”
“See what?”
“Dad.”
“Trust me, Hal, he’s in there,” Frank said. “You don’t need to open the coffin.”
“I do.” Hal looked at Frank with pleading eyes.
“Ryder,” Frank gave an up motion of his head. “What do you make of this? You’re here.”
“I stand firm with the Captain and believe he has valid reasons for wanting to open the coffin.”
“What reasons?” Robbie blasted. “I have yet to hear a reason. And there is no reason for opening that coffin.”
“Did you?” Hal asked hard. “Did you R
obbie.”
Robbie’s jaw twitched.
“Robbie, I think you of all people know exactly why I am opening this coffin, and I’m opening it.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“Why, Robbie? Afraid I’ll see exactly what you’ll see?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Robbie inched to Hal.
“I think you know exactly what that means.”
“Ok, Stop.” Frank said, intervening in the stare down. “Robbie let’s put this to rest. If Hal . . . if Hal feels the need to open that coffin, fine, he opens the coffin.”
‘‘Thank you, Frank.” Hal reached for the lid.
“No!” Robbie shouted.
“Why the fuck not?” Frank asked.
“Yes, Robbie, why not?” Hal seconded the question.
“Because . . . because . . . it’s not a pretty sight. It’s disturbing.”
“Hal’s a big boy. It’s a dead body.” Frank said. “Listen, Hal is not an irrational person. Fuckin eccentric, but I haven’t known him to fly off and want to do something this fucked up without a reason . . .”
“But he hasn’t given a reason,” Robbie argued.
“I don’t need one. He has one,” Frank said. “It’s Hal. If he feels strongly about it. He can open the coffin. But this shit . . .” Frank’s finger moved around. “Ends here. I will seal this place up so I don’t have to deal with the next fuckin person who doesn’t think Dad is dead.”
Hal and Robbie both looked at Frank.
“Frank?” Hal asked. “Why did you say that?”
“Cause I read your fuckin mind. Now open the coffin.”
Robbie stepped back. Elliott moved closer to the coffin to aid Hal. Frank hovered close.
Elliott locked eyes with Hal. “Are you ready for what you’ll see, Captain. Emotionally?”
Hal nodded and purchased a grip with Elliott. On three they inched open the lid.
There was only about four seconds of silence. Then, Frank spoke up.
“Shut it. Shut it now.” His huge hand reached around and shut the coffin. “Seal it up, Hal. Ryder, find a way to lock this place up.”
“Yes, Frank,” Elliott replied.
Hal, eyes wide, turned slowly. “You saw.”
“I didn’t see anything. I saw our father.”
“Yes, but you saw . . .”
Joe (Beginnings Series Book 25) Page 33
