Had Joe not been in such a ‘down’ mood, he probably would have lost it on Frank and his band of merry zombie hunters, but Joe realized he was partly to blame for the mess and there was some viable humor to the whole situation. So Joe merely told Frank and his guys that he saw no sign of walking dead in the four men they had captured. They were just tired. He told them to let them go home and search out near the killer baby region.
Frank and his men happily did.
Joe wanted to do was end the long day and go home. He had fallen behind in his simple tasks enough due to the massive defection, but the situation with Ellen had set him back hours. There were a few things in his office he wanted to touch base on. The rest would warrant just an early start the next day.
With all that in mind, Joe went to his office. His first stop inside was the file cabinet and the ‘In’ basket. Joe knew sometimes it was the little things that caused the biggest headaches and he wanted to review the pending migraine ahead of time.
With the contents of the bin in his hand, Joe walked to the desk. It was light. Only a few items were in there and Joe was grateful that it wasn’t worse.
Joe regretted that thought the second he sat and peered at his desk. He set down the items he had and looked at what had arrived in his absence. He knew without opening it, it wasn’t good. A large Envelope laid there. Clipped to it was a folded note.
Joe pulled the paper from the clip, opened it, and read it. The typed and brief words, ‘I can’t protect him any longer.’ send chills up Joe’s spine. Apprehensively he lifted the envelope and opened it. It was light but when Joe tipped it he realized though light in weight, the contents weighed heavy in meaning.
On his desk, a purging result of the protector’s guilt, was the red UWA bandana. It wasn’t so much the color of the bandana or the dried blood on it that made Joe sick to his stomach. It was the glaring, predominant Captain’s bars pinned on the edge of the flap.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
December 4th
‘What was going on?’ Dean had to wonder. The first sign of oddness came when he went into the bathroom to shower that morning. It was damp and had that ‘just showered’ feel. Knowing it was difficult enough to get his children to bathe, the early morning shower bandit had to be Ellen.
Ellen up early?
Something had to be wrong. At least she wasn’t wondering aimlessly about Beginnings. He knew that for a fact because of the other abnormal occurrences, the smell of coffee and breakfast. A chain of events began the night before. Dean didn’t want to question, but he had to. Ellen seemed to have gone through a behavioral metamorphosis over the course of one day.
“El?” Dean whispered her name when he stepped into the kitchen.
After turning off the burner, Ellen turned around. “Morning. Why don’t you sit down. I have breakfast.”
“El. I hate to look a gift horse in the mouth but what’s going on?” Dean asked.
“What do you mean?”
“O.K.” He lifted his hand. “You come home last night. We . . . we talked. It wasn’t about anything in particular, but it was a normal conversation. You let me sleep in bed with you. You snuggled up, kissed me goodnight, told me you loved me . . .”
“I do.”
“But you haven’t said it in a while.”
“All right.” Ellen nodded. “Dean, I had a revelation.”
“Wait. You’re smiling. What’s up?”
“Nothing.” She shook her head. “I just had a revelation that everything will be fine.”
Dean just stared.
“Don’t. Don’t do that.” Ellen grabbed the plates and walked by him. “You’ll ruin my mood by thinking that.”
“How do you know what I’m thinking?”
“I know you.” She set down the plates. “And you’re thinking ‘what am I on’.”
“El, I never . . .”
“Dean, I haven’t said it but I will one time and one time only. I am not nor was I taking drugs. Get it out of your mind. I won’t discuss it again. Sit down and eat.”
With apprehension, Dean did.
Ellen went into the kitchen and brought out coffee. “I know now things are gonna be fine, just fine.” She joined him at the table. “Now, there’ll be some rough spots but that’s gonna be after today. Today is for me. Just me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m taking today to not worry about what has been bothering me. I’m not going to concern myself with it. I will deal with it, head on mind you, tomorrow.”
“Can I ask what it is?” Dean questioned.
“You can. I won’t answer. You’ll find out tomorrow. I guarantee you’ll sigh out and apologize up and down for being such a dick.”
“A dick? Have you been talking to Robbie Slagel?”
“Robbie?” Ellen giggled. “Why would you say that?”
“He called me a dick last night.”
“That’s funny.”
“Oh. Ha-ha. Real funny.” Dean lifted his fork. “Have I really been a dick, El?”
“Yes.”
Dean blinked. “All right. Be blunt.”
“It’s true. You’ve confused it with concern. Don’t worry about it. I’m going to forgive you one hundred percent.” Ellen laid her hand over his. “Why? Because I totally understand why you’ve been acting like this.”
“A-ha.” Dean nodded. “You’re divorcing me.”
“What?” Ellen laughed. “No. Geez. No.”
“Ellen . . .”
“Dean.” Ellen laid her hand over his mouth. “Eat. Don’t worry about it. I’m not. Tomorrow I will and then it will be fine.”
Dean let out a breath as his mouth was freed. Ellen was smiling and acting more normal than she had in a long time. She was assuring him all was going to be fine. He had a hard time believing that. Even with her one-eighty demeanor, Dean was overwhelmed with the feeling that he wasn’t facing an ‘all will be fine’ situation. He was facing the calm before the storm.
^^^^
“This is totally awesome,” Henry spoke with a smile upon his face, staring down at the arm Danny was building.
“Thanks,” Danny replied. The arm laid on the counter of the Communications Room. It looked like a metal skeleton. “The fingers do real good. But watch . . .” Lifting a small metal prod, Danny brought it toward the end of the arm. “Mimicking the electrode, the micro chip will send . . .” He touched the prod on the arm. The fingers curled some. “They aren’t bending enough. They won’t form a fist.”
“They’re too thick,” Henry commented
“What do you mean?” Danny asked.
“They’re too thick. You’ve built the structure of the fingers too wide at the base. If they won’t form a fist now, they probably won’t bend once Dean covers it with the skin.”
“They look good,” Danny commented.
‘No, they look awesome, for a normal prosthetic . . .” Henry shrugged. “Sure, it would work but you want to make this phenomenal. You want this to be as if Robbie never lost his arm. Look how far you and Dean are going with this. Nerves, blood, so forth.”
“What do you suggest?”
Henry took a closer look at the arm. “You can either rebuild the fingers or shave them. I’d suggest rebuilding.”
“Any idea on weight and width?”
“Give me your specs. I can do it for you. I can start today sometime.”
“Henry, that would be great. Could you?” Danny asked.
“Absolutely,” Henry nodded. “I’ll let you go. I have to get back.”
‘Yeah. I think I’ll perfect the elbow joint when I’m doing the check.”
“Talk to you later.”
Danny lifted his hand in a wave, checked out his tools, then fired up the communications panel. He turned down the volume slightly so the beeps wouldn’t annoy him while he worked. Of course, the beeps of annoyance were nothing compared to the bizarre questions he received as Council member about some sort of walking dead epide
mic in Beginnings.
^^^^
The envelope Joe received the night before sat beneath his folded hands. He sat behind his desk he and waited for two people. He had given a lot of thought to what he was going to do and say. He wouldn’t jump to conclusions until he had some answers.
A single knock brought in Frank. “Hey, Dad. I got your note.”
“Sit down, Frank. We’ll start in a minute.” Joe’s mood was not the best.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are we starting in a minute? Is something going to happen.” Frank took a seat.
“No, we’re waiting for someone,” Joe explained.
“Who?”
“Frank.”
“I’m here.”
Joe grumbled. “Will you just knock it off and be quiet.”
“Is this about the walking dead?” Frank asked.
“No it’s not . . .”
“Because I believe I have the situation under control,” Frank explained. “I didn’t mean to upset Josephine this morning. Well, I did but . . .”
“Frank.”
“You have to admit she looks like the walking dead,” Frank nodded. “I thought we had the queen. We’re on to the nesting.”
“Frank, will you knock it off,” Joe ordered. “That’s not what we’re here to talk about.”
“Then what is it?”
“In a minute.”
Frank tossed up his hands. “I think it’s been a minute.”
Just about the point when Joe was going to lose it, Hal walked in.
A little out of breath from his hurry, Hal smiled. “I was at Distribution. They said you needed to speak to me.”
“Ah, no,” Frank complained. “Please don’t tell me you’re pulling the UWA in on the situation.”
“What situation?” Hal asked as he sat down.
“The walking dead,” Frank answered. “We have zombies in Beginnings.”
Hal reiterated slowly to be sure he heard Frank correctly, “Zombies in Beginnings?”
“Yes.”
“Good God, Fran. What else can you possible conjure up?” Hal asked.
“No-no. Blame Dean. He invented them.” Frank nodded. “It was some SUT brought back to life or something. They’re flesh eating. They nest.”
“Dad.” Hal faced Joe. “I certainly hope zombies aren’t the reason you brought me up here.”
Joe just stared at Hal. “Think about what you just asked me then slap yourself for being a Frank.”
“Can I slap him?” Frank asked.
“Frank,” Joe warned.
“Ow.” Hal glared and snapped a view to Frank after receiving the smack on the back of the head.
“Knock it off!” Joe yelled. “This is serious.”
“So are the walking dead,” Frank added.
“Frank!” Joe blasted. “Not another goddamn word out of you. You hear? Do . . . you . . . hear?” Joe asked. “Frank?”
“You said not another word.”
Joe grunted and with a blasting smack of his hand on the desk, he stood up. “This . . . this is very serious.” His voice dropped to a calm one. “As you both know, in a little bit there will be a meeting at the courthouse to tell the results of the ballot counting.” Joe paced some. “It is my hope that with the revealing of the consequences, the guilty party will step forward and end this investigation so we can put it behind us. Now . . .” He let out a heavy breath. “Right now, to you two, I am going to speak as your father. I knew the moment Frank stepped out of the time machine, that he saw, despite what he claims, that he saw the shooter. You don’t know and love your kid his entire life not to feel the turmoil he is feeling. You do.” Joe walked back to his desk. “Even though Frank hid it well on the exterior, it killed him on the interior. Which . . .” He sat back down. “Told me my son loves whoever it is that committed this horrendous crime.” While Joe spoke the words with deep meaning, his eyes moved back and forth from Frank to Hal. “He loves them enough to lie, to protect them, and too cover for them at all cost. Despite . . .” Joe tilted his head. “Despite what Jason Godrichson believed, I know Frank. There are few people he would go to that extreme and to build such a convincing wall that he never even flinched when the murderer was in the room being questioned. Lying.” He shook his head. “Never flinched. That’s love. To me, it ended up being one of four people. You, Hal, and Robbie for obvious reasons. Ellen, well, that would go without saying why. And Dean. Why Dean?” Joe shrugged. “No matter what my hard headed son says, he respects and loves Dean.”
“But not in that way,” Frank spoke to just be clear on the issue.
Joe remained in control. His eyes took a long blink. “Not in that way. Another reason, the most important reason, is he knows how much Dean means to Ellen. OK.” He exhaled loudly. “Now that my little speech is out of the way, I’d like to get to the point of my meeting.” He lifted the small folded note from under the envelope and opened it. “I received this envelope last night with this note that says, ‘I can’t protect him any longer’.” Joe laid down the note. He picked up a pencil, placed it in the envelope, and slowly removed the bandana.
Frank immediately looked at Hal with question.
Hal showed no reaction. He didn’t flinch, or move. He remained unfazed, cool, and calm.
Joe dropped the bandana on the desk. “Is that yours, Hal?”
With his eyes on his father, Hal nodded. “Yes.”
“It is stained with blood, a lot of blood. Do I need to run a forensics on this? I will if you want.”
“No.” Hal still remained collected. “No need. You’ll find it to be Bev’s blood.”
At that second Joe felt as if his insides just dropped. He breathed out heavily and ran his hand down his face. “I want this over.”
“And it shall be.” Hal said then stood up. “I will end it officially at that meeting today. The others who have gone through this investigation deserve to hear my story and my apology for putting them through this. Will that be all right if I speak then?”
Staring at his hands, Joe only nodded.
“Well.” Hal cleared his throat. “I’ll finish my business in town and I will see you in Bowman.” He walked to the door, looked back at Joe who stared at him so lost, then with one more look, Hal walked out.
Frank’s view jolted quick from the door to Joe. “Dad.”
“Frank.” Joe lifted his hand.
“But, Dad,” he sounded frantic.
“Not now.”
With frustration, Frank slammed his hands to the arms of the chair as he stood up walked across the office and barged out. “Hal!” he yelled. “Wait up.”
Hal stopped walking and turned around when Frank ran his way. “What is it?”
Hands on hips, every tense muscle in Frank’s face was predominant. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
It was unlike Frank the way he spoke, breathy and almost too emotional to slip out. “Hal.” He swallowed. “Come on. Why are you doing this? You and I both know you didn’t kill Bev.”
“And you and I both know who did.”
“I can’t . . .” Frank clenched his fist. “I can’t let you do this.”
“It’s the only choice, Frank. You know it. What will happen? So I’m out in the world for a few months. I’ve done that. So I lose my ranking. I’ll get it back. There is nothing of the punishment I cannot handle. Can the same be said for the person who committed the act?” Hal shook his head. “No. You know it and I know it. It is the best possible solution. It will be over.”
“But, listen. What if I . . .”
“No,” Hal stopped Frank. “No. My mind is made up.” He started to walk again. “See you in Bowman.”
Frank watched his brother walk off. Hal walked straight and tall, as if he were taking on a battle he knew he could win, but it was fight Hal shouldn’t have been in. Hal was his brother. Frank thought he had it under control with the investiga
tion. Never did he dream that it would come down to such a choice. It literally tore Frank apart at that moment, because he was stuck in an emotional battle of what was right or wrong and he just didn’t know what to do.
^^^^
There should have been some guilt for thinking that Ellen was lying to him but instead Johnny was angry with himself for wasting the day and opportunity.
He wanted to do it before the hustle and bustle of the day. Even though the men of New Bowman moved freely about the streets, the shops weren’t open yet. Johnny was well aware of one of the shops that didn’t open until later in the day, Ben and Todd’s accessory shop.
He found an easy way into the store through a back door. Johnny worried less about being spotted than he did about the protrusion in his coat caused by the phone.
Through the back and into the darkened store front Johnny laid low and made his way. He could hear the noise from the streets and with an occasional peek from behind the counter, he saw the men walking about.
The phone cord was taped to the wall as it ran into the unit that dialed for approval on Danny Card purchases. Hoping he was right, Johnny removed the jack from the unit and placed the jack from the phone he held into it. Johnny grinned when he heard the dial tone.
Excitement and enthusiasm took him over and he vowed he wouldn’t rattle unnecessarily, He just wanted to request to get out.
“Hello?” Steward answered the phone.
“God, Stew, this is Johnny. Is George there?”
“Yes, Johnny, but listen in case we lose transmission. Here’s the plan. There is a clinic in the town of Circle, Montana.. Be there at noon in two days, no later. Our men will be arriving in Bismark and a chopper will be sent from there for you. It will stop only long enough to pick you and Bev up and get you out. Two days. The sixth, at noon. Can you do that?”
“Absolutely. Now listen . . .”
“I’ll get George.”
“Stew, wait I have to tell . . .” Johnny pulled the phone from his ear. The click and dead sound told him transmission was cut. Was he found out? Did somebody hear? He peered around and saw he was alone, but Johnny didn’t want to take any chances. He knew he had better not only get out of that shop, but out of New Bowman as fast as he could.
The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20 Page 216
