Blink of an Eye: Beginnings Series Book 8

by Jacqueline Druga

“Yes.”

  “Good. So do I. Don’t move.” Frank placed on his blindfold.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Walking blind like you.”

  “This ought to be interesting. So, do we just follow the sounds?”

  “Yep.” Frank walked to next to Dean. “Like I said, we’re facing town. It’s straight ahead two miles. Follow the noise. See you there.” Frank started walking.

  “See me ... Frank?” Dean reached his hand out to his side where Frank spoke to him last. “Frank?” He turned around. “Frank!” All he got was a distant ‘bye, Dean’. “Shit” Dean brought his hand to his head. “He left me here.”

  <><><><>

  “What do I do, what do I do?” Ellen spoke to herself, looking at the computer screen, waiting for her analysis of her recent batch results that she had mixed together. “Lie? Probably.” With her feet on the counter, she brought the pocket tape recorder she used for Dean’s dictation close to her mouth. She pressed record and spoke into it, “Results are taking an awfully long time, Dean. Of course if I didn’t do this dictation, you wouldn’t know. I can press the button to pause. Like now.” She stopped recording ... “Oh he is just going got kill me. But what does he need to know? I won’t tell him I screwed it up. I’ll lie. Yeah.” She cleared her throat and pressed record again. “I’m still waiting on those results, Dean. Of course, you and I both know what they are gonna be, the same old, same old. How can it not be when it’s the same old thing right? Hey, have I told you recently that I loved you.” Ellen watched the screen, glad at that second, even though it wasn’t right, that Dean was blind. He wouldn’t see her screwed up results in the analysis history of Agent Seventeen. “Dean, I was thinking we ought to give this thing Agent Seventeen a name. What do you think? It works, not without some side effects, but it works. We have to give it a name, because I am tired of calling it Agent Seventeen. Speaking of agents, I almost spilled that rack of shit we got from George. Boy, would we have been screwed if I did that. Not only would we have not any more strand one virus to work on, but we wouldn’t have those two extra does either. Sorry, my hand hit the rack when I was reaching in the fridge. And speaking of those two doses, Dean ...” Ellen lowered her feet to the floor and sat forward. “What are we going to do with them?”

  There was a long moment of silence as Ellen heard the beep of her completed results. Just as she was about to do her big lie, she did something else. She screamed. Ellen screamed so loudly, so shrilly, it could have broken the microphone of the tape player right next to her mouth. “DEAN!” Another scream. “DEAN! Oh my God! Hold on.” She turned off the tape player. “Shit. This can’t be right,” she spoke excitedly, then shrieked and smiled as her fingers clicked the keyboard. “It is!” She grabbed the player again, speaking in to it rapidly, “OK, here it goes, I was thinking about something else when I was mixing the batch of Agent Seventeen, Dean, and I inadvertently put in two percent of hydrochloride instead of two percent of Hydrometholide. Wait, don’t yell. I caught myself during the mix and I added the Hydrometholide also, knowing full well that it wouldn’t work but I didn’t want to waste the batch. I figured I’d run the test anyhow, waste the rabbits, and lie to you about why the batch didn’t work on them. I ran the preliminary test and, Dean ... Dean ... guess what? We have tried the hydrochloride before instead of the Hydrometholide but we never tried the combination of the two. And ... instead of our slow conquering of the virus sample with the initial saturation being forty percent, I had an initial saturation of eighty-three percent. No shit. Eighty-three percent! Ten minutes, Dean. Ten minutes and the host virus was completely saturated by our agent. WHEW!” She shrieked. “OK, testing the bunny time. I’ll inject one-half a cc into our day-three rabbits, seeing how they are the farthest along, and I’ll get back to you. If these results are right, we should see a drop in body temperature in a few hours instead of twelve. OK, bye.” She shut off the player then turned it back on. “I’m so brilliant.” Stashing the tape player in her lab coat pocket, Ellen flew into the special lab. She immediately grabbed the sample batch and, in her excitement, began to fill three syringes to test on the rabbits.

  Singing that ‘Silly’ song, Ellen injected the last syringe into the bunny’s IV. As she was doing that, she heard a knock on the glass of the special lab window. She looked up from the cage to see Jenny Matoose standing there. Titling her head with an odd look, Ellen held up a ‘wait a second’ hand to Jenny, finished her task, took off her lab coat, and cleaned up.

  “Jenny?” Ellen came out of the special lab. “I thought you weren’t allowed up here.”

  “Oh.” She flung her hand. “This was important. I had to come up.” She looked into the window. “What are you doing to those rabbits?”

  “Trying to cure them.”

  “Of the new virus?”

  “Yep.”

  “Any luck?”

  “We are so there. The host virus is hardly a threat any ...” Ellen caught herself in her excitement. Opening her mouth about something she was given strict instructions not to do. “Um, Jenny, I didn’t say that, OK?”

  Jenny pretended to lock her mouth shut and throw away the key. “Not a peep, Ellen. Besides, with all the work you and Dean are doing up here, how could you guys not beat this thing? Right? Speaking of Dean ...”

  Ellen let out a breath. Jenny was changing the subject. “What about him?”

  “Why is Dean walking circles in the field a couple miles from here? Is it a new experiment?”

  “You could say that. Frank is working with him on something. I’ve been told not to give him a ride, even if he begs.”

  “So I take it I shouldn’t.”

  “No. Frank will kill you. So, what’s up?”

  Jenny took a seat on a stool. “Guess where I’m going in two hours?”

  “Where?”

  “Ben has the dresses done. Well, almost.”

  “No shit?” Ellen smiled and pulled up a stool next to Jenny. “I thought he said another week.”

  “That’s what he said but he has them done. This means we can move this wedding up to August 15th. What do you think?”

  “Oh Henry will be glad. I know he just can’t wait until this whole thing is over with.”

  “Good.” Jenny smiled. “Andrea and I will come over to your house with the dresses. Can you meet us there in two hours?”

  “Sure. Why?” Ellen asked.

  “A couple reasons. Andrea is going to pin the hem on you for Ben and we’re all gonna try the dresses on. It’ll be fun. A bridesmaids’ afternoon.” Jenny giggled. “And guess what? William said he found that old calligraphy kit he knew was around, so starting at the woman’s meeting Friday, we’ll do the invitations. I’m working on few now. I’ll bring three to your house and you and Henry can pick which one. Once you do, we can handwrite them out and Paper said they’d give us the nice stuff to do it on.”

  “Invitations?” Ellen asked with surprise. “I didn’t know we were gonna do that.”

  “Well, it was sort of a surprise I was keeping until I knew I could pull it off. I mean, why not? We have food. Paul is going to Miles City tomorrow with Cole to get some music for the reception. We have a hell of a buffet planned. Cindy has designed a cake that kills. Why not have invitations? I figured we’d have to write out about seventy. I’d like to get them out and hand delivered by Friday of next week. Of course, it’s not like no one knows or they have other plans. It’ll just be ceremonial and nice.”

  “Jenny, this is starting to really get exciting, isn’t it?”

  “I’d say.” Jenny looked down at her watch. “I’d better head out before John misses the jeep and Forrest has my kids speaking Forrest-ese. Did I tell you he’s the guest at our meeting? Even though he’s a guy, he’s so worldly and he knows all about the ancient rituals behind our project we’re doing.”

  “Are we finally doing the one I have been waiting for?”

  “Yep, so don’t forget to bring your supplies.” Je
nny moved to the door. “See you in a couple hours. I’ll wave ‘hi’ to Dean for you.”

  “Thanks.” Ellen tapped her fingers on the counter a few times after Jenny had left. Dresses. Hems. Invitations. Ellen’s head popped up in thought. She immediately sprang to her feet. “Shit, I’d better clean up if I want to be home in a couple hours.” Foregoing what she was working on, actually forgetting about what she was working on, Ellen prepared for the final cleanup phase of the day.

  <><><><>

  With a slight limp and his hands behind his back as he walked, Joe moved side by side with Danny down the hall of Containment toward the entrance door. “You and Bentley did great on the tests, Danny.”

  “Not to sound arrogant, Joe, but I knew we would.”

  “So did I. We’re looking at letting you two out Saturday. We’ll have you guys share a house and that’ll be your first day in Mechanics.”

  “So I definitely am going there?” Danny asked.

  “Without a doubt. You have to start working on that tracking system.”

  “I understand. What about this Security Force? I’d be interested in helping out there.”

  “Yeah?” Joe nodded. “I’ll talk to Frank. I don’t see why he can’t fit you in on the reserve squad.”

  “Good. What about Bentley, Joe? Where will he go?”

  “I have special plans for Bentley. In fact, we have a store that is vacant, being done up like a barbershop. Cole is running into Miles City tomorrow for the supplies. That’s why I stopped in actually. I had to speak to Bentley, and he told me what he required. I also needed to know how long he needs between each haircut appointment. Seems the word has spread around here and everyone is anxious. So I have one of our girls, Trish, setting appointments for everyone.”

  Danny chuckled. “Bentley will love that idea.”

  “He already does.” Joe stopped at the door. “Danny, I wanted to ask you something, if I may.”

  “Sure.”

  “You said you went to school to be an architect. We had a man here, he left, who redesigned our housing units, using the supplies to make some three bedrooms instead of two. Seems like something has happened to those prints. Everything is prefab. Do you suppose you can do that?”

  “Redesign them? Sure, why not?” Danny shrugged. “Why not just design newer housing?”

  “Like I said, it’s prefab and we have all the supplies already.”

  “Joe, you have a world of supplies out there, and a world of prefab houses.”

  “Danny?” Joe was a bit confused.

  “Simple. You need wood to build new homes. Just like you would go to Miles City to get a barber chair, you go to Miles City to get a house or stuff to build one. The possibilities are endless, Joe.”

  “Well, you think about that. We have growing families and some are just smashed into two bedroom homes. I’d like to give them more room.”

  “Then we will. When I get out, I’d like to look at the prints for the prefab houses and the supplies for them.”

  “Deal.” Joe reached up his hand to the keypad. “Oh, Danny.” Joe winked and shook Danny’s hand. “I have a good feeling about you. It’s good to have you aboard.”

  “Thanks, Joe.”

  With a swat to Danny’s shoulder, Joe punched in his code. He walked through the small office, saying his goodbyes to the guard, and then out into the hot sunny day that waited for him. As soon as he stepped out he saw Frank, just the man he was looking for. “Frank?”

  Frank stopped in a skid in his hurry move to the Living Section. “Oh hey, Dad.”

  “What’s the rush?”

  “Heading back home. Josh is with the kids, and I needed to get to Distribution for milk before they closed.” He held up the container. “See ya.”

  “Frank. Wait.”

  “I need to get back.”

  “Just one second.” Joe hobbled to him. “Care to tell me why I got a call on my radio from Jason that Dean is wandering around in circles out in the field by his lab?”

  “Nope. See ya.” Laughing, Frank quickly took off.

  <><><><>

  The slam of the front door rattled the archway and Dean, dirty, sweaty, and hot, stormed into the house. “Frank!” he screamed out into the darkness of the home he guessed was correct. “Frank! Oh I’d better be in Frank’s house.”

  Frank came from the kitchen drying his hands. “Whoa, hey, Dean, you’re here.”

  “I hate you!” Dean bellowed at him. “I really hate you, Frank.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? Four hours. Four hours I wandered around in circles, mind you, trying to get home.”

  “I made it.”

  “You’re an asshole! I didn’t make it. Did you stop to wonder if I was all right? Did you stop to think I might need help? No! All I got was every half hour, Robbie driving by saying, ‘You OK, Dean?’ And forget telling him ‘no’ because he’d just drive off anyhow!”

  “How’d you get back?” Frank asked.

  “I walked! Walked! It took the kids getting out of school for me to hear enough noise to follow!” Knowing Frank’s house well from walking it for an hour, Dean moved into the living room. “I’m hot, Frank, I’m tired, and I hate you. I just don’t want to be bothered by you right now.”

  “What are you doing, Dean?”

  “Sitting on your couch. Am I allowed?”

  “Oh sure.” Frank tossed his hand up. “Go on. But just remember, never take anything for granted.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Dean lowered himself to sit and instead of his body plopping on the couch he expected to be there, his body plopped down to the floor.

  “That,” Frank answered.

  “Where is the couch, Frank?”

  “I moved it.”

  “You moved it?” Dean picked himself up. “I’m blind! I learned this house inside and out last night. Why would you move the couch on me?”

  “To show you things are never what you think they are.”

  Dean grunted loudly. “You keep throwing these Frank-tests at me and I keep failing them! When are you going to learn they don’t work?”

  “Bullshit,” Frank snapped. “They work. Your blind ass made it two miles to my house, alone. It may have taken you hours, but you made it. You made it. The next time you’re stuck somewhere, you’ll pull upon what you learned today and you’ll make it through that situation too.” Frank backed up and went into the kitchen. “Don’t try to jump on the bed either,” Frank yelled from the other room. “I moved that too.”

  Annoyed and with a sore rear-end, Dean knew one thing. Frank was right.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Andrea ran a dab of Hair Hold in between her fingers and touched her fingers to the strands of hair that hung down onto Ellen’s neck. Spirals, Andrea had curled them, adding the hair product to the soft curls to hold them in place as they dangled from the perfect test hair-do that Andrea and Jenny did to Ellen before she tried on the dress that nearly fit her perfectly. Ellen’s dark blond hair was pulled up and back loosely, twisted and tucked, with the ends curled about. It was so fancy, so unlike her, but Ellen didn’t mind the half hour it took for Andrea and Jenny to do her hair. She actually liked being fussed over. ‘Practice preparations’ Jenny called them. Standing in front of her bedroom dresser mirror in the off-white dress Ben worked so hard to redo, so lacey, so turn of the century. It was hard to believe, as Ellen looked at herself, that Josephine had actually worn the dress sixty years earlier. It wasn’t just Josephine’s dress; it was also Josephine’s mother’s as well.

  She was the woman they labeled senile, who four years earlier they found sitting on her front porch like a Caucasian version of a Stephen King character. She brought that dress with her along with so much that those in Beginnings always found interesting. And like those trinkets Josephine shared with the community, she now shared that dress, telling Ellen and the women that anyone who could wear it, should.

  “Girl.” Andrea ran her hand do
wn the front of the dress, a closed-mouth proud look on her face. “Look at you in this dress. I feel like your mom.”

  “It’s beautiful.” Ellen stared in awe.

  “You don’t need but an inch taken up. Ben won’t even need to cut this dress,” Andrea commented.

  “Maybe you can wear it next.” Ellen giggled. “We are the same size.”

  “Sweet Jesus, Ellen.” Andrea waved her hand with a ‘tsk’. “Who in God’s world will I marry? No-no. I’m fine wearing this.” Andrea touched the straight, long blue dress she wore. A simple large pearl decorated the gathered front.

  “Those turned out nice.” Ellen turned from the mirror. “Jenny, you took yours off?”

  Jenny tossed on her tee shirt. “I have to be getting home. This was fun but I have to leave. John gets nervous if he is stuck making dinner.” Jenny slipped into her shorts. “I’ll leave the invitations here for Henry to look at, Ellen.” She grabbed her dress and stuck it on the hanger. “You look great in that dress. Henry will be so pleased when he sees you walking down the aisle.”

  “You think?” Ellen asked, almost uncertain.

  “Oh sure.”

  Andrea unzipped her own dress. “I’d better be going too. We’ve been here for two hours. Goodness. Henry will be home soon so get out of that dress.” She slipped from her own, grabbed her clothes and put them on.

  “Another minute or two.” Ellen looked at her reflection. “I’ve never worn a wedding dress before.”

  Jenny walked up behind Ellen, straightening the shoulders on the dress. “Maybe the reason for that is you were waiting for the right man to wear one for.”

  “I think you’re right.” Ellen smiled. “Jenny.” She stopped Jenny as she started to leave the bedroom. “Your hairpins, I can take them out now.”

  “Just give them to me tomorrow, so I can put them away for the wedding.”

  “OK.” Ellen fussed with her hair. “I can’t leave it this like this. Henry will see. I want him to be surprised.”

  Andrea, dressed, and her bridesmaid gown draped over her arm, walked to Ellen. “He will be. Now make sure you put that in the dark sack. We don’t need Henry seeing it before the wedding.”