The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20

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The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20 Page 298

by Jacqueline Druga


  “No, not off hand. I told myself to remember it, but I lost a lot when George put that gun to my head. I’m sure I’ll remember it when I look at a map.”

  “You do that,” Joe said. “We need to get on this city and get in touch with them. Now . . .” Joe looked to the odd sound of a few taps on the roof. “Must be hail. Jason, what’s going on?”

  “There’s a bit of a problem,” Jason said. “That’s my reason for being late.” He laid three sheets of stationary on Joe’s desk.

  Joe shook his head. “What are these?”

  “Legal briefs,” Jason answered.

  “On Ben From Fabrics stationary?” Joe questioned.

  “Oh, yes and doused with a bit of perfume.”

  Joe lifted the papers and sniffed. “Christ. Jenny.”

  Jason nodded. “Trial dates are set. I had to, according to the law we set forth. So I will hear these cases without a jury.”

  “What are . . .” Joe looked up to the growing sound of tapping on the ceiling. “It must really be hailing out there. Anyhow, what are these about? Why did you give them to me?”

  “I thought you’d want to see them before the other parties involved are served.”

  “It’s your jurisdiction,” Joe told him.

  “But it’s a Beginnings problem,” Jason said. “Case One is Misha versus Dean in a sexual harassment case.”

  “Christ.” Joe closed his eyes.

  “Wait. It gets better.” Jason smirked. “Second is Ben from Fabrics versus Dean in a sexual abuse case.”

  Elliott laughed.

  Henry gasped, “That Dean is such a dog. He has a big mouth and he sexually harassed Misha and sexually abused Ben.”

  “Henry,” Joe winced.

  Jason smiled. “It still gets better.”

  “The last one?” Joe questioned, then picked it up. “Oh my God.”

  “Yep.” Jason nodded. “Filed by the women on behalf of your son. It’s Frank Slagel versus Dean in a sexual slander case.”

  “What the hell will we have to deal with next?” Joe tossed his hands up.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Slagel,” Elliott spoke. “Perhaps that.” He pointed up. “It just doesn’t sound like hail to me.”

  “You’re right.” Joe stood up. “Actually, it’s pretty damn loud.” He walked around his desk. Jason, Henry, and Elliott stood as well. “What is going on out there?” Joe opened his door and peered out. Nothing.

  “What is it?” Jason asked.

  Joe stepped outside. “I don’t . . .”

  Hearing the sudden stop of Joe’s sentence, Elliott walked out, leading the pack. “Mr. Slagel?”

  “Holy Mother of God.” Joe stared out. “I didn’t realize we had that many chickens in Beginnings.”

  “What?” Confused, Elliott turned back to look at the building. Not a speck of roof could be seen. Chickens seemed to fight for a space to peck at the metal roof. “Oh shit!”

  Jason looked, then after an inhale, nodded. “Chickens pecking at a metal roof. There’s a first.”

  Henry screamed when he saw them. Which wasn’t a good thing. It set off a chain reaction.

  A single ‘bawk’ seemed to be the charge call of it all and upon that chicken’s vocal sound, the entire brigade of poultry pelted down from the roof , like a tidal wave, at the four men.

  “What . . .” Joe’s arms, swung about. “In . . . ow,.” He looked down at the chicken that pecked at his leg. “Get off.” He shucked it, only to be attacked by another. “Christ Almighty!”

  Round and round Elliott went as he fought off the chickens that dove at him in droves. “Where are they . . . shit.” He shook his arm when a chicken took a peck out of him.

  “Fire extinguisher,” Jason stated. “Inside.” He rushed for the door, his arms waving about as well. He dove inside.

  “I’m with him.” Joe pointed and kicked out his legs as he tried to move through the slush of feathery friends. “My damn . . ankles . . . shit.”

  “Mr. Slagel where is . . .” Elliott was about to say the name ‘Henry’ but didn’t have to. The horrid screams made both him and Joe spin to see Henry laying on the ground face down. Henry covered his head and kicked his feet while chickens galore landed upon him.

  “Jason!” Joe called out. “Hurry with that . . .” He growled and kicked away another chicken in his route to help Henry. “Hurry with that extinguisher. Henry! Get up! They’re only chickens, for crying out loud!”

  Batting his arms, Elliott raced with Joe to Henry. “This is bizarre.”

  “Yeah, well,” Joe unsuccessfully reached for Henry and gave a twitch of his head when a chicken pecked at him. “This is Beginnings. Where else in the goddamn world can you get attacked by rabid chickens?” After another ‘ow’, Joe touched his own cheek to feel for blood. He growled. “Beginnings.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Elliott recalled the moment in his life when he was called in to assist in the dismantling of a nuclear warhead that could only be done by hand. There was also the time when an old elevator with a weakened cable was stuck in between floors and Elliott had to climb down the shaft into the car. There was even the time in his life when the submarine he was on lost power for three days at sea.

  A ton of moments were in Elliott’s life that had challenged him. There were even moments ahead that would make him wonder, but none could or would ever hold a torch to the one he currently faced.

  The chickens in Beginnings.

  Elliott didn’t know whether to laugh or to worry about it. There was something so comical yet frightening about the wave of warrior chickens that took it upon themselves to recreate the Alfred Hitchcock classic.

  People in Beginnings were in a state of panic. The chickens attacked out of the blue in waves with no rhyme or reason. They were blood thirsty chickens and Elliott hadn’t a clue how to handle the dilemma.

  It was as obscure as obscure could be, not to mention demented and sick. Elliott knew it would take an obscure, demented, and sick thinker to solve the problem. With that, another thought came to Elliott.

  What would Frank do?

  With that train of thinking came yet another. Elliott looked at his watch. It was a possibility that Frank and the Captain had met up with the Beginnings escort, so he picked up the phone and dialed.

  “Yes, Carl,” Elliott spoke. “This is Sgt. Ryder. By chance have you reached the Captain and Frank?” Elliott smiled. “Good. Perfect timing then. Can I speak to Frank?” He nodded. “I understand they aren’t in the truck yet, but please. Thank you.” Elliott tapped his fingers on the desk, waiting. “Frank?” He winced. “Nice to speak to you as well. Frank, listen, we have a problem in Beginnings that I believe only you can solve.”

  ^^^^^

  “How many?” Joe asked Dean with shock in the clinic.

  “Well . . .” Dean scratched his head. “I stopped counting at seventy-five.”

  “Seventy-five!”

  “Yes, Henry was . . .” Dean cleared his throat. “Pecked seventy five times . . . at least.”

  “How badly is he injured?” Joe questioned.

  “Not bad at all. They’re pretty much scratches. I can’t stitch them but he is traumatized and in pain.”

  “Christ. Sedate him.”

  “Already done.” Dean smiled. “How about you? How are your ankles?”

  Joe grumbled, “Can you goddamn believe this? I’m fine. I just can’t believe I was attacked by three hundred chickens. Any clue why this is happening?”

  With his hand behind his head, Dean lifted his shoulder, and tilted his head with a lost look. “Haven’t a clue.”

  “Well, give it some thought.” Joe looked past Dean. “There’s Dan from Security. Excuse me.” He made his way to Dan. “What’s the situation?”

  “People understand and have been told to stay indoors and not to leave unless absolutely necessary.” Dan explained as he walked. “But they’re scared, Joe.”

  “Understandable.”

  “Sgt
. Ryder is working on a solution, at least one to divert the attacks.”

  “Good. Good.” Joe nodded. “Any more injuries?”

  “No. The only report is the one that got stuck in Josephine’s hair. She’s fine though. Chicken’s not.”

  “Self defense.”

  “Joe.” Dan slowed down. “You don’t think that impending meteor has anything to do with this, do you?”

  “What?” Joe asked surprised.

  “Yeah, like how animals go crazy before an earthquake. Maybe this is from the meteor. Or maybe it’s sending radiation . . .”

  “Dan, no meteor is causing this.”

  “What about a freak act of nature?”

  Joe just wanted to whine.

  “Oh my God.” Dan froze. “You don’t think they’re gonna get large, do you?”

  “What in God’s name are you talking about?” Joe asked.

  “Large. Oversized. Giant.” Dan explained. “Like in Food of the Gods. The chickens ate this feed that was specially enhanced and . . .”

  “Stop.” Joe lifted his hand and nodded. “You got it. That’s it.”

  “Food of the Gods?”

  “No. Food of the goddamn mad scientist of Beginnings. Haven’t a clue, my ass. Excuse me.” Joe turned back around. “I have a wiry little man to speak to.”

  ^^^^^

  How many hours had Johnny spent in that single, small room? It was too many to count. He slept most of them on the old sofa. Nearly all of the day he had been in Lodi and Johnny had yet to see anything but the four walls of that room.

  What was taking them so long? Was the Chief calling Beginnings? Or even the Society? Johnny was uncertain and he jumped a little in surprise when Michael unlocked the door and walked in.

  “Hey, Stew,” Michael said. “I see you’re awake. I came in a while ago and you were sleeping.”

  “Why didn’t you wake me?” Johnny asked.

  “I don’t know. You must have been tired so I let you sleep. Anyhow, I found nothing in your stuff. You passed our weapons screening.”

  “What now? A containment process?”

  “Excuse me?” Michael asked.

  “In Beginnings, we have containment. That’s where anyone that wants to live in Beginnings has to stay to prove they can still be and act human.”

  Michael chuckled. “No shit? Beginnings does that? No, we don’t do that. We screen people but we don’t call it containment. We call it Buzz.”

  “Buzz?”

  “Yep, you’ll find out shortly.”

  “Chief, I want to thank you for letting me in,” Johnny said.

  “We pretty much let everyone in, Stew. Letting you stay is the trick, but if you really got them skills you boast about, we’ll use you.”

  “I know it has to bother you with all that I said about leaving Beginnings and such.”

  “Yeah. I ain’t gonna lie,” Michael replied. “But we’ll watch you. We’ll see if you can be trusted. But make no mistake, you fuck up, you turn out to be a spy, and I’ll put a bullet in your head myself.”

  “I understand.” Johnny nodded.

  “Good.” Michael smiled, then looked up when he heard the knock on the door. “Yeah.”

  The door opened and a stocky, burly man entered. “Hey, Chief,” he said. “I got Richter to allow the stranger to bunk with him until we can situate him with a place of his own.”

  “Excellent. You might as well meet the stranger. This is Stew Redman.”

  “Stew?” The man chuckled. “Well, how are ya’, Stew? My name is Larry Underwood.” He extended his hand to Johnny.

  “Larry.” Johnny shook his head.

  Michael winced. “Knock it off, Buzz. Stew, his name isn’t Larry. It’s Buzz. Buzz, Stew here doesn’t have a clue about that. He was too young when everything went to shit.”

  Buzz laughed. “Sorry. Anyhow, I’ll take you to your new home, Stew.”

  Michael gave a nudge to Buzz. “Did you see Lars?” Michael turned to Johnny so as to explain. “Lars is our town doctor and scientist.”

  Buzz nodded. “Yep. I saw him, talked to him, and he said no. He said he’s on his day off and the stranger is gonna have to wait until tomorrow.”

  “All right, then that will have to do.” Michael laid his hand on Johnny’s back. “This way, Stew. We’ll take you to your temporary new home.”

  Johnny followed. Temporary home was a truer statement than even Michael knew. Lodi was temporary, but Johnny was grateful to be there. Lodi was one step closer to the peacefulness of Beginnings.

  ^^^^^

  The main corridor of the clinic looked like a M*A*S*H* unit and sounded like one as well. People cried and cots were lined up along the walls. Beginnings residents huddled in there for medical care and for a feeling of safety. It was like awaiting the dropping of bombs. No one knew when the next chicken attack would occur.

  “Give this man a half a cc of Lerot sedative,” Andrea ordered as she moved to the next victim. Melissa followed behind for orders. “Clean these wounds and move him to Exam Room One. Sweet Jesus, where is Dean?”

  “He’s working on something for Joe,” Melissa answered.

  “Doesn’t he know we have a medical crisis? As if cold and flu season doesn’t beat us down enough.” She shook her head and moved down to the next cot. “This one looks minor. Maybe . . . twenty peck wounds. Give a mild pain killer and put him in the waiting room.” With exasperation, Andrea took a breath. “When will the madness end?”

  “My eyes! My eyes!” A woman cried out from the far end of the corridor.

  Panicked, Andrea raced to her.

  “My eyes. I can’t see!” she screamed while thrashing about on the cot.

  “No-no, baby. Hold on.” Andrea approached.

  “My eyes! The chickens got my eyes!”

  “No-no. It’s just feathers. They’re kind of . . .” Andrea pulled. “stuck.”

  The woman screamed.

  “With blood.” Andrea continued. “All better. See?”

  She exhaled, “Thank you.”

  Andrea took a second to calm herself. She turned to Melissa. “We need every available hand to get through this pandemonium. I just hope the dear Lord is gentle with the next attack, whenever that will be.”

  Down the hall, at the main glass doors, Joe stood with Dan from Security. A few others from Beginnings stood behind them, peering out the glass onto the main street that seemed overrun by chickens. They moved slowly and stayed in masses as they marked their territory.

  “They’re waiting,” Dan said, “for someone. Anyone.”

  “Thank God, people were told to stay in . . .” Joe’s voice dropped. “No. Hap. What is he doing?”

  Dan’s hand rammed flush to the glass as he saw Hap walk onto the street and slow down at the sight of the chickens. “Joe, he worked a night shift. He doesn’t know. He was sleeping.”

  “Dear God,” Joe stated. “Doesn’t the man know something is wrong with all the damn chickens running around?”

  Hap took another step.

  Dan pounded on the glass. “Hap! Go back!”

  Hap heard the pounding and looked up.

  “Hap!” Dan banged. “Get cover!”

  Hap pointed to his own ear shaking his head.

  “Go back!” Dan pounded.

  Soon everyone started to bang on the glass in warning to Hap.

  Finally Hap tossed his hands in the air and yelled out a loud, ‘What!’

  Everyone cringed when the chickens rose up and charged at him.

  “Son of a bitch.” Joe pushed open the doors. Just as he charged out in a heroic rescue, the screech of the Jeep cut him off.

  As the chickens covered Hap, Elliott jumped from the Jeep with a cage. He set it down, opened it, and out ran a rooster toward the hundreds of chickens.

  One cock-a-doodle-doo from the rooster and every single chicken stopped their attack and, seemingly in a panic, hurried away.

  Hap lifted to his feet. “Goddamn goofy chicken
s.” He brushed himself off.

  Joe was amazed and he walked to Elliott. “How did you know to do that?”

  Elliott exhaled. “Frank. I called him. They had just picked him and the Captain up. I asked Frank’s opinion. I figured since this was off the wall . . .”

  Joe finished the sentence. “Why not ask an off the wall person.”

  “Exactly.” Elliott nodded. “He said send a rooster after them to stop the attacks until whatever Dean did to them wears off.”

  “Frank thinks this is all Dean?” Joe asked.

  “Doesn’t everybody?” Elliott questioned.

  “Everybody but our little mad scientist who has yet to give me an answer. Well that . . .” Joe headed back to the clinic. “Is gonna change.”

  Joe knew as soon as he started to get the ‘Elvis’ run around from everyone, that Dean was guilty as charged. Forging through the ‘I think I saw him there’ and ‘he was just here’ situations, Joe located Dean in the scrub area of Operating Room Two.

  “Busted,” Joe said as he walked in.

  “Joe, I’m very busy. I have surgery,” Dean defended.

  “Surgery, my ass!” Joe barked. “These people were pecked, Dean. They weren’t gouged.” He stepped toward Dean. “Now I asked you for an answer. I know you have answers, so give them to me.”

  Dean exhaled.

  Joe could feel the heat as it rose up his chest and to his face via his neck. Thinking Dean was responsible was one thing, knowing it was another. “You . . . you did do this.”

  Dean nodded slow. “I guess.”

  “You guess?”

  “Joe, the protein I mix manipulates the feed . . .”

  Joe screamed in shock.

  “What?” Dean asked.

  “You manipulate protein for the chicken feed.”

  “Joe, it has to be that way to get maximum . . .”

  “It’s nature for crying out loud!” Joe yelled. “Why in God’s name are you manipulating nature?”

 

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