The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20

by Jacqueline Druga

  “Frank! Knock it off!” Joe’s hand slammed to the desk in aggravation.

  “Fuck, Dad. I wish you wouldn’t yell at me. I’m temporarily mentally disabled, you know.”

  Joe closed his eyes briefly. “You’ve been mentally disabled your entire goddamn life.”

  In shock, Frank quickly looked at Robbie and whispered, “Did you know that?”

  After letting out a breath, Joe looked back to Rev. Bob. “Now, you know these people?”

  “I do.”

  “Will you tell us who they are?”

  “I will.” He saw Joe getting a piece of paper. “On one condition.”

  Joe hesitated in his writing. “You want to name conditions?”

  “No, Joe, I want to live. I give you these people and you find out for sure that they do work for George. I want to walk out of Beginnings, not be carried out with a bullet in my head. I know the unwritten laws on traitors.”

  Joe was thought silently and glanced around at the faces in the room. “How many are we talking about?”

  “Eight, I think. I have to name them for a total count.”

  “Eight?” Joe was shocked by the number. He leaned back in the chair. “How do I know you aren’t just naming people to save yourself?”

  “I believe if you investigate them, like you did with me, you’ll prove them to be traitors,” Rev. Bob said confidently. “I’m gonna trust that you’ll let me walk. You can keep me in holding for as long as you like until you prove their guilt. Then all I ask is that you let me phone the Society and take them up on their invitation to join. I call them and I walk out, alive.”

  Joe rocked back in his chair and played with the pencil he held. “Eight?” He waited for Rev. Bob’s nod and snapped his chair forward. “All right. I prove these people guilty, all of them, and you walk out a free man. But not before I prove all of them guilty. If even one is not proven guilty, you’re a dead man. Deal?”

  Rev. Bob agreed. “Deal. What happens to them?”

  “We have to decide on that. I’m not sure.” Joe pulled the paper forward. “Names.”

  “I would like to do this in private,” Rev. Bob spoke softly.

  Joe looked up to those in the room. “Boys.”

  Slowly they all stood up, not one of them looking happy about having to leave. Frank looked the worst. A whining expression glazed his face as he was the last one to step out. He pulled the door closed.

  After hearing Frank’s compliant that ‘it’s like we’re on a commercial break’, Joe held the pencil ready, his eyes peeled to Rev. Bob. “Names.”

  Rev. Bob took a deep breath.

  ^^^^

  With his elbows on knees and a cigarette between his hands, Frank tapped his foot rapidly like an expectant father. “Dad.”

  “Frank.” Joe looked up calmly.

  “Dad,” Frank said again.

  “Frank, wait.”

  Frank huffed and sat back. “The suspense is killing me.”

  “Then die,” Joe stated. “But wait, do you have that list of men I need?”

  “Yeah.” Frank a slip of paper pulled from his tee shirt pocket. He handed it to Joe.

  Joe shook his head and smoothed out the wrinkles. “Christ. Frank, you wrote this ten minutes ago,”

  “Yeah. So?”

  Joe quickly looked up when his office door opened and Hal walked in.

  Frank immediately let out a bitching whine. “Aw, Hal? We’re waiting for Hal? What’s he got to do with this?”

  “Not much,” Joe answered, “but I need his outside opinion. Hal.”

  “Hey, Dad.” “What’s going on?” He stepped inside and shut the door..

  “It appears . . .” Joe held up a folded sheet of paper. “Rev. Bob gave us the names of the people he says are involved with George in exchange for his life.”

  Hal raised his eyebrows. “You trust that? I remember reading about the McCarthy trials.”

  Joe nodded. “That’s why I wanted you here. You have a different view. I need that.”

  “Sure.” He hurriedly looked at Frank who gave a sarcastic flutter of his lips. “What?”

  Frank shook his head.

  Hal took a seat. “What can I help with?”

  “We’re forming two man arrest teams. There are eight names and we are planing synchronized arrests.”

  Hal nodded. “Sounds good.”

  “Sounds good,” Frank mocked.

  “Frank!” Joe yelled.

  “What!” Frank sat up. “This isn’t right, Dad. He’s from somewhere else. This isn’t his problem.”

  “It can be ours,” Joe quipped. “What if these people are innocent? What then? We have to prove their guilt but are we fair judges?”

  “Yes,” Frank answered.

  “I agree,” Robbie added.

  “Me too,” said Henry.

  “Dean?” Joe questioned.

  “I’m pre-prejudiced.”

  “Exactly,” Joe nodded. “So am I. Hal?”

  “You really want my honest opinion?” Hal asked and waited for Joe to nod. “All right. You have these eight names. Arrest them, like you want, hold and question them. Then gather evidence like you are planning to do, but let another person or persons decide if the evidence warrants action.”

  “Like a trial?” Joe double checked his son’s suggestion. “We’ve never held trials.”

  “That’s because it’s only been you people inside these walls. Who’s to fairly judge? Yeah, they work side by side with these people. But . . . go on. Present the evidence to the masses of Beginnings. These are men and women who lost children to your recent plague. You’ve lost lives to the Society Soldiers. They are gonna hear the word of Rev. Bob, a trusted man who is a blood relative of George’s, and his word will be . . . . excuse the terminology . . . gospel.”

  Joe sadly agreed. “So you’re suggesting we show the evidence elsewhere?”

  “Exactly,” Hal said. “You never held trials before, because in a closed community basically everyone’s the jury and it’s a kangaroo court. Council basically makes the final decisions. Council can still make the final decision on what happens to those found guilty, but now you have over five hundred unbiased opinions. Select a few, a jury of my people, and let them decide. Hold trails. We do.”

  “Are they fair?” Joe asked.

  “Very. We try.” Hal shrugged. “I know it’s not how you work. Like I said, he could be naming names just to name them for his freedom. They may be right. You may get a few who confess. You decide what to do with the guilty. But the ones who proclaim their innocence, let someone on the outside look at what you got. Fairly judge these people.”

  Joe, inhaling loudly and fiddled with the folded piece of paper. “This is difficult, but it’s the best way. I think your men, when you hear who’s on the list, will be in favor of trials for these people because, basically, the names are going to shock you. So I need a vote. Henry, Dean, Robbie, Frank, give me a ‘nay’ if your against trials.”

  “Nay,” Frank spoke out.

  “Frank.” Joe shook his head.

  “All right. All right. Trials. Read the names.”

  Joe slowly unfolded the paper. “Ready.” He waited until he saw they were. “The first name given is the man in containment. He was sent here to be a spy . . . Jeremy.”

  “Yes.” Robbie clenched his fist. “I didn’t like him.”

  Joe looked up again. “Leo in Tracking.” He saw the shocked look on Frank’s face. “Wait, one of your men? Try another . . . Doug.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Yep.” Joe continued. “Peter in Paper. If he’s found guilty, we have to find yet another division leader. Garret in the fields. Women, oh yes, women . . . Cindy from Bakery and Sissy in Clothing. Also Walt in Plastics.”

  Frank counted on his fingers. “Wait. That’s only seven. Who’s the eighth?”

  Joe sadly looked about the faces with slight hesitation. “Andrea.”

  ^^^^

  Tuned into a p
rivate channel on the radio, Joe paced about the half empty warehouse. Dean stood right by him as Joe spoke in the radio. “O.K. You can be dramatic but make sure no one dies. Tell them what’s going on. Bring them all to Warehouse Four. Except . . . Jess?”

  “Yeah, Joe?” Jess answered as he stood outside the clinic with Hal.

  “Take Andrea to Holding then send Hal back here and stay with her until I get there.”

  “Got it,” Jess agreed.

  “Gentlemen.” Joe looked at the second hand of his watch while he held the radio to his mouth. “Four . . . three . . . two . . . now.” He lowered the radio and peered at Dean.

  Like they were two cops from some old television series, Henry and Dan burst through the double doors of the Skills Room.

  “Jeremy.” Dan extended his gun in a point.

  Jeremy looked up.

  Henry smiled. “Let’s go. You’re under arrest . . . .”

  “ . . . for suspicion of treason.” Robbie held a gun to Garret in the field. “Let’s go.”

  Without surprise, Garret followed as Robbie and Steve escorted him.

  “Frank?” Doug questioned as he leaned against the side of the Bakery building. “Your dad said now?”

  “I’m letting it be my call.” Frank peered around and saw Cindy escorted out by two of his men. “When I say ‘now’ it’s time. You got that?”

  “Got it,” Doug agreed.

  “Ready?”

  “Ready.”

  “Now.”

  Just as Doug stepped, he walked right into the barrel of Frank’s gun.

  Frank grinned, pulled back the hammer, and pressed the point of the gun directly to Doug’s forehead. “Guess what, Doug? You’re under arrest.”

  Their boots moved in perfect slow synchronized steps down the corridor of the Clinic. Together, side by side, Hal and Jess turned the bend. Andrea was coming out of a patient room.

  She smiled and waved high. “Oh, Hal.” After laying her charts on the nurses’ counter, she trotted to him. “I’m glad I caught you. You’re stopping by for dinner tonight, right?”

  Hal lowered his head. “Jess.” The word barely came from his mouth.

  Jess also spoke softly and sadly. “Andrea, we’re here for you.”

  Andrea tilted her head in curiosity. “I don’t understand.”

  Jess gently took her arm. “Come with us. We have to bring you in. You’ve been named . . . Andrea . . .”

  “What’s going on?” Andrea pulled her arm away. “Hal?”

  Jess swallowed. “Please Andrea, don’t make this hard, please,” he begged.

  “What did I do?” she asked. “It seems like I’m being arrested. No one ever is arrested in Beginnings.”

  Jess peered through the tops of his eyes. “Unfortunately, now you are.”

  “For what?”

  “Suspicion of treason.”

  Andrea knew it. Her eyes showed it. She knew and had been waiting for it to come. Lifting her head high, she took a deep breath. “Let’s go. Take me where you have to.” Emotionless and with dignity, she slipped between the two men and walked ahead of them down the hall.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Beginnings, Montana

  Through the metal walls of the cold dim Holding Room, Rev. Bob could hear the muffled voices, one female, one male. He didn’t know who they were, nor really did he care. He was mentally settling into what would be his new home.

  But not for long.

  Things had been arranged. The people had been talked to. There were too many of them for Beginnings not to just oust them. There was a little bit of pressure relief on Rev. Bob’s head. They knew they would be arrested and they also had their confessions ready ahead of time. For Rev. Bob, it was a matter of waiting until everyone’s guilt was positively discovered and he would walk away.

  Not that he wanted to. Beginnings was his home. He reflected on his choice not to tell Joe, a choice--as he sat in his would-be cell--which he knew was wrong. It was also the wrong choice to join the Society, but it was either join them or die in the wilderness. Rev. Bob knew his time was short and he knew eventually it would come down to him. He would do what he always did, pull together everyone that worked for George and get them to follow the predestinated plan. There was nothing more that Rev. Bob wanted than to add the two names of Johnny and Bev to the list, take a chance on the wilderness, and live with a clear conscious. Johnny and Bev were trouble and their motives for their wrong doings were not even minutely justified. They had no political motives and no family loyalty. It was all about greed and hatred. Those were the motivations for the two young Beginnings residents who would continue to live in Beginnings and in the clear since all weight of suspicion was lifted from them, just like George wanted if things started to heat up in the investigation.

  Rocking some as he sat on the bed without a sheet, Rev. Bob folded his hands in prayer. He hoped that he could just move on with his life with as little on-earth punishment as possible. Eventually he would. He’d be free and clear as long as everyone involved with George in Beginnings confessed and followed the plan.

  ^^^^

  The handwritten note Joe slipped to Henry simply read ‘a copy of this video tape is to be made and stored in history’. Henry read it, nodded, and folded the note as he, Joe, Dean, and the three Slagel brothers sat at a long table.. Across the table was clothing, notes, letters, gadgets, syringes, and Society weapons, all evidence that the seven people standing before them turned in. The seven were lined up ten feet from the table where Joe and the others sat. A video camera recording the confessions was behind the table.

  “I was sent in as a spy,” Jeremy’s raspy cracking voice spoke. “I haven’t had a chance to partake in anything, but I have worked for George setting up the Society long before the leaders, CME’s, and scientists were released from the cryogenic holding.”

  “Sissy,” Joe called her name.

  “I’ve always worked for George.” Sissy took her turn. “I knew him in the old world. I am a biology and virology specialist and you found me right after I was cryogenically released. See, I bare the mark.” Sissy lifted her hair. “My sole purpose was to monitor Dr. Hayes’ work and throw a monkey wrench in here or there. I did several times in his cryo-lab and mobile lab. I got the security entrance codes from our people in Security and easy knowledgeable access from, of course, Andrea. She and I changed his batch formulas, or tried to, on whatever he worked.” Sissy held back a chuckle. “He actually blamed Ellen. I was also the one that knew Jenny had the main strain of the virus. How could I not? I know who gave it to her. I slipped into the lab and exchanged the blood so you could not find a cure for the new virus using the original strain.”

  “I helped a lot,” Cindy confessed, “especially when it came to the virus. I was given the secondary strain and added it to about forty loaves of bread. That was just one of things I did. I also was a contact and spy for the Society. I also . . . I was the one who gave Jenny the direct dose of the virus. She was upset with John so I seized my opportunity. When she came to talk to me, I put it in a glass of water.”

  Joe stayed calm despite hearing the disturbing news. “Peter.” Joe pointed to him.

  “I was known as the runner,” Peter replied. “Besides sending messages, I would sneak out of the perimeters at night to deliver messages to the soldiers of the Society who waited. I’d use their radios to contact George. I helped with the new plague as well.”

  “They delivered the mice to me,” Garret explained as he volunteered to go next without being called upon. “Peter brought in cases full and I release them into our fields, little by little, so as not to draw suspicion.”

  “Were you in contact with the Society as well.”

  “Always.” Garret lowered his head.

  “Doug,” Joe called out.

  “George convinced me to side with him from the beginning. He told me of the way of life and how we were protecting ourselves from foreign invasion. I spied for him since he escaped
. I helped rig the cryo-lab for the explosion, but that never happened.”

  “Did you work hand and hand with John Matoose?” Joe asked.

  “No,” Doug answered. “Like Rev. Bob, John Matoose was reluctant so he wasn’t aware of my participation. I’m sure John knew there were more of us.”

  “What other wrong doings did you commit?”

  “I worked with Leo. He and I were the biggest parts of the security breaches. We let people in and out. When Danny Hoi got the tracking up, we shut it down at night. I was an avid helper of Andrea and Reverend Thomas, who worked side by side with George. I was one of his biggest links. I was there at the mobile lab and helped him take Ellen away. I was almost found out when that big guy, the new man, Sgt. Baily was in here . . .”

  “And I killed him,” Leo stated, “with an arrow through the neck. Doug was waiting to let me in. We were messing with the beam to try to . . . to well, fry Frank. He saw Doug but I got him. I also killed Bill the night of the mobile lab. And . . . I tried to kill . . . to kill Dean that night. I thought I did.”

  Dean slowly raised his eyes. He remembered being strangled and kicked in the head. All the visions he thought were dreams weren’t. Explanations were being given, but still so much didn’t make sense.

  Frank’s chair creaked as he slowly stood up.

  Doug spoke for the group. “You have our full confessions. You’ve videotaped it. When are you giving us back to the Society? We confessed it all so you have to let us go.”

  Joe only looked up as he leaned over his notes.

  There was a series of slow steps as Frank walked to the line of seven. Then with a cold stare upon his face, a stone look that reflected the hatred and anger in his gut, Frank pulled out his revolver, shifted the chamber, and fired a single shot into Doug’s head. With a shift of his hand, Frank took out Leo. Leo’s body wasn’t even on the floor when another shot hit Garret and Sissy. Cindy’s hands went to her face but not before she too received a bullet in the forehead. In the midst of her falling body, Frank’s arm moved to the right. He fired a shot at Peter, swung to the left, and unloaded one bullet into Jeremy. Within seconds, all seven of George’s people lay dead in a pile. The shower of blood and brains that splattered across the room, the walls, and on Frank, happened before anyone had time to react. Before Hal had even made it to his feet, it was over.