Blink of an Eye: Beginnings Series Book 8

by Jacqueline Druga

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  AUGUST 19

  It was early, but not too early to begin checking on the progress of the antidote that Dean had administered. After draining the host virus, creating a serum, injecting the virus into everyone, then hitting them with Agent Seventeen, It was well into the late night. But before the previous day’s end, there wasn’t a soul in Beginnings who was sick and who hadn’t been given the cure. Unfortunately, like Dean had been saying since the beginning, the virus wasn’t as deadly as the symptoms themselves. And it was evident when some who were stricken failed to respond at all. There was always a down side to every up. Beginnings may have not stopped the virus from coming, but they certainly stopped it from claiming all of the lives that the future told them it would take. And even with the loss of some lives, Beginnings could claim this as their victory. Because they were still standing when it was all said and done. They were still alive.

  <><><><>

  It was a different feel in the hospital, while making that first set of rounds. Dean could hear it in the noise level. Chattering instead of moaning. And it was so clear to him that his antidote worked at least on one individual. Joe. He was buttoning his white shirt when Dean walked in the room. “Joe.” Dean laughed. “What are you doing? Get back to bed.”

  “I’m feeling better, Dean. And I’m sure you can use help.”

  “Yeah, getting Frank to get into bed. He’s sick, Joe.”

  “I’ll talk to him.” Joe sat on the bed as he finished tucking in his shirt. “How did you do it? How did you find it you son of a bitch.”

  “Well your daughter is going to tell you it was divine intervention. I kinda had a shouting match at the big guy.” Dean pointed up. “But I was standing there rambling, trying to think what could have brought it in. And then I saw him, the mouse. It was so simple, yet scary. What better way to get us all then to lace our food supply. The mice go into the fields, nibble on the food, we eat the food. All of our men were probably exposed to it already. But when the gas hit them, it was such an abundance it took over immediately. George planned it all to happen. It wouldn’t surprise me if he planned it all to happen in the same day.”

  “You said our food supply is laced. Is it safe now?”

  “Yes. We’re all immune.” Dean nodded.

  “So I’m going to take it that the antidote was a success.”

  “If you want to.” Dean looked sad. “See, for the most part, people are responding well. Some are responding slower than others, and unfortunately, some aren’t responding at all.”

  “How can that be?”

  “The symptoms, Joe. The symptoms have them. They are not dying of our virus, they’re dying from the ravishing effects of the symptoms. It’s the weaker ones, Joe. The old and ...”

  “The children.”

  Dean’s head dropped. “We’ve lost ... we’ve lost kids, Joe. And I’m fearing we’re gonna lose more before it’s all done. They’re fighting with everything they have. We’re giving them everything we have. But it may not be enough.”

  “How many people have we lost total, Dean?”

  Dean hesitated before answering. “We lost three adults so far and six children.”

  “Six.” Joe closed his eyes. “We only had thirty.”

  “I don’t want to think about it.” Dean backed up. “And ... And I really should go check on patients.”

  “Dean,” Joe called out to him. “I know you’re blaming yourself for the losses. But you have to know. You did all you could, you and Ellen did more than that. You stopped it. You stopped fate from being so cruel to us again.”

  Dean nodded slowly in appreciation to Joe, he moved from the room. What he needed to see was good results, and for that all he would have to do is look at the numbers of people whom the day before couldn’t open their eyes. People who walked and talked now. That was his good results and that would make Dean feel better.

  <><><><>

  It was music to Ellen’s ears. The sound of Alexandra’s giggles flowing out into the hall as Ellen approached her children’s room. She put on a bright smile and cheerfully walked in. “Alex.”

  “Mommy.” Alexandra sat up reaching out her arms.

  “Hey, Sweetie.” Ellen kissed her and hugged her. “You look so much better today.”

  “I feel so much better. Look, Billy drew on my hand.”

  Ellen looked down to the flowery artwork. “Nice.” She turned some in her seat on the bed looking at Frank’s back as he leaned over the crib. “Frank did you see how good Alex looks to ... Frank?”

  When he spoke, he barely spoke. “El.”

  “Frank, what’s wrong?” She stood from the bed. “Frank.”

  Frank turned his head to her, his eyes were red. “Something ... something is wrong with Brian.”

  Ellen edged her way to the crib, when she looked down at her son she nearly wanted to fall over. “Oh my God.” She pulled out her stethoscope and listened to his chest.

  “El.” Frank stroked Brian’s head while holding his hand. “Help him.”

  Ellen began to hyperventilate, she backed up. “Billy, take Alex from this room hurry.” Her words held tears. “Frank. I’ll get Dean.” Jumping across Alexandra and Billy as she darted from the room, Ellen skid in a stop of terror at the anguish scream that came from the room down the hall.

  Jenny’s scream.

  Ellen had heard that scream before, she had made that scream herself. Afraid to look, Ellen turned her head toward that room and she saw Jenny. She sobbed uncontrollably, unable to stand up, John held onto her for support as she cradled her lifeless daughter in her arms. “Oh God.” Ellen breathed out and raced down the hall again, more than anything she did not want that to be her again. “Dean!” She cried out in panic. “Dean!”

  “Ellen, what’s wrong?” Dean flew out of a room.

  Ellen caught her breath between her words. “Bri ... Brian. There’s something wrong with Brian.”

  Like the two of them were in a race together, they ran down the hall back to Brian’s room.

  Frank still stood the same way. He looked so desperate at Dean when Dean walked in. “Help him, Dean. Help my son.”

  The visual of Brian was more than Dean could handle when the small boy came in his full view. Brian lay upon his back, his arms spread out. As Dean placed his hand on his leg, he could feel the coolness of it, dry. It matched the pale grey hue that had cast over Brian. His green, now grey, eyes stared out blankly, he didn’t blink. And the only sign that give hint that he was still alive was the struggling breaths that the baby took. Breaths that weren’t eased by the oxygen that flowed into him. Huffing breaths, short, quick, almost gasping. And little Brian’s head twitched slightly to the right with every breath he fought to take. They were the only sound that filled that room.

  Hovering close to Brian, Frank’s squeezed his hand. “Dean, come on help him.”

  Dean closed his eyes tightly, he knew. No amount of medical knowledge, no amount of hope or praying was going to help.

  “Dean.” Frank sounded as if he begged.

  Dean’s hand widened over Brian’s leg, his head dropped and he raised only his eyes to Ellen who stood on the other side of the crib. In his grip onto Brian, Dean felt his entire being tense up as if his soul were getting ready to leave him. His chest hurt, his ears rang. The breathing, Brian’s breathing ... Huff ... huff ... huff ... huff ...

  Silence.

  Brain’s head stopped twitching and dropped to his right toward Ellen.

  Ellen’s eyes caught Brian’s, it was if her baby stared at her. Like so many times before, but only this time without that precious life behind them. She couldn’t look, she spun from the crib and into the counter, gripping the edges of it. Breathing so hard, closing her eyes.

  Dean let go of Brian’s leg. His arms folded close to his body as he stepped back. The pain wrenched through his stomach, burning up to his chest. He huddled over, digging his own elbows into his gut as he buried his fac
e in his hands.

  “Bri.” Frank shook him lightly. “Brian.” He shook him again. “Come on. It’s Dad. Brian.” Frank lowered his lips to his son. “Brian, please wake up.” He kissed him. “Breathe ... please breathe for me baby.” He stared at his baby, who did not respond. “No.” The word quivered from Frank’s throat. “No.” He spoke stronger, “NO!” Frank’s head went back and his one cry out, rang out long and hard filling the room and carrying throughout the clinic. His shoulders bounced as his hand gripped the railing to the crib.

  Ellen’s entire insides trembled listening to Frank cry out. Tears streamed from her reddened face as she finally turned around. Dean had his back faced to them, leaning forward into the wall. She looked to Frank, ready to go to him when she saw him reach into the crib. “Frank.”

  “Brian! Oh God!” Frank pulled the oxygen from him, and then the intravenous. He cried out even more as he lifted Brian up and his son’s arms that used to cling to him, flopped with no life as his head fell back. An angry growl emerged from Frank and he turned completely red, bringing Brian tightly to his chest, cradling his head in his huge hand, gripping Brian’s back, and planting his lips to his son’s cheeks. The wide shoulders of Frank’s bounced up and down, as his eyes closed as tight as they could get, trying to squeeze the pain from himself. Praying and hoping with all of his heart that he hadn’t just lost his son. The son he prayed for, the one he waited for, the son that taught him how to be a father again.

  It was a Frank no one had seen before. Filled with deep anguish, be backed himself into a corner and slid down the wall, sitting with Brian on the floor. His long legs bent up as he wrapped his arms completely around the baby, holding him tight to his chest, wedging Brian’s little head between his broad shoulder and his tear filled cheek. Frank wept. He shook violently, sobbing from the depths of his soul. And Frank held on to Brian, embracing him with all of his love, knowing it would be the last time he would ever hold his son again.

  Ellen trembled so badly her breathing was out of synch. Through her nose, and partly opened mouth, she quivered with every short breath she took. Her shaking hand reached out as she knelt down to Frank. “Fr-Frank.”

  “No.” His head buried in Brian, he spoke so soft, so barely audible.

  Slowly her hand touched upon Brian’s head, she gasped when she felt the lifelessness of him.

  “He’s gone, El.” Frank wiped his tears over Brian. “He’s gone. My son is gone. Why, El? Why did he have die?” He pulled Brian’s hand to his mouth, gripping the pudgy fingers that used to hold his and he kissed them.

  With the back of her hand Ellen wiped the tears from her cheek, but it didn’t matter, they were replaced with the fresh ones that kept falling down. Through her mother’s sorrow she leaned forward to Brian, laying her lips gently to his head, holding her hand to his face and whispering through her kiss to him. “I love you. Mommy loves you so much ...” Fighting back breaking down, Ellen’s body shook and she pulled back, shaking her head, turning and running from that room as fast as she could.

  Joe was nearly barreled over by her as he approached the door. “Ellen ...” Reaching out and missing, Joe looked in the room to see why she had run out. His mouth dropped open and he felt the pain as he witnessed his son, his strong son, totally broken and holding his child in his arms on the floor. He looked to Dean who leaned face forward into the wall as if it were his only means of support. “Dear God.” Joe had to turn from the scene He couldn’t witness it, he couldn’t see the loss of his grandchild. Turning he faced Robbie who stood stunned in the doorway.

  With solace Robbie walked into the room moving to Dean first and laying his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Dean ...”

  Dean turned around to the touch, his face was red as he looked up to Robbie. Dean wanted to say something, but his pain stopped him and he shook his head. “Excuse me.” Like Ellen he took off from that room.

  Robbie could hear his big brother’s cries, slowly he walked over to Frank and brought himself down toward the floor. “Frank.” Robbie tried not to look at Brian. “Frank, I’m sorry. I am so sorry.”

  Another burst of sadness came from Frank as he blindly reached up and grabbed for his brother, pulling at Robbie, clenching at him, bringing him to him. Then as Robbie dropped to the floor, Frank fell into him. And Robbie held his brother, trying to be a strength for him. Trying to be any type of comfort in a situation Robbie knew that there just was no comfort to be had.

  <><><><>

  Ellen ran hard and fast. Her feet pounded on the ground as she ran through the empty streets of Beginnings. Her hurt was her drive and she wheezed out with every step she took. She didn’t stop until she physically couldn’t run anymore. She fell, slamming knees first into the hard uneven ground in the Underdeveloped Section. Clenching her fist and pulling out the long grass, she threw her head back and Ellen screamed from her gut, loud and deep, it was filled with every ounce of pain she had. She started shaking when she began to cry, lowering her head, tossing it back and forth, digging her fingers into the dirt with every sob she released.

  Ellen didn’t hear his footsteps, nor did she hear him approach at all. She merely saw his knees as he dropped them before her.

  Henry removed her hair and slipped his hands upon her cheeks, raising her face to him. His hands held her firm, his thumbs moved in a brush across her tears. He didn’t saying anything, he stared at her. And no words needed to be spoken, his eyes conveyed it all. He was there for her. He was right there.

  “Henry.” Ellen’s lips quivered. “This wasn’t supposed to happen again. I wasn’t supposed to lose another child. How can I live with this? It hurts so bad, Henry. It hurts so bad.”

  Just as her head began to lower again, Henry stopped her, lifting her head back up, bringing his face closer to hers. “There are no words that I can say to you right now. There is nothing I can do to take this pain away from you. I wish with all of my heart I could feel this for you. Because I would take it ...” Henry swallowed. “I would take it for you. Just know, El. Whatever it is you need from me to help you through this, I will do. If you want to cry, scream, yell or hit, I will help you in any way I can. I’m here for you. Let me help you. Whatever you need.”

  “Just ...” Ellen fell to him, “... hold me.”

  Henry grabbed on to her, holding Ellen as close as he could, clenching her, steadying her trembling body as she cried. And Henry, closed his eyes tightly trying to stop the tears. Tears for the loss of Brian. But more so, tears for Ellen and all the pain she felt that he just couldn’t do anything about.

  <><><><>

  Henry pulled the jeep up directly in front of the clinic and he shut it off. Holding on to the steering wheel he looked over at Ellen who just stared at the building. “You don’t have to do this, El. You can go home.”

  “No I can’t.” She shook her head. “I’ve been gone long enough. I just needed some time for me to grieve.”

  “An hour is not enough time.”

  “No it isn’t. But it was enough time for me to get some of it out. Out enough to face everything a little stronger. I left Frank a mess Henry. I just left him. And Dean ... I never saw that look on his face before. He was crushed as much as Frank. Now here’s my problem.” She looked at Henry. “I love them both. Who do I go to? Who is it that I comfort, because I cannot be in two places at the same time.”

  “El.” Henry reached over and grabbed her hand. “You be with who needs you the most at the moment. And I will back you up. I will help you with them. But remember, you are going through this too. You are going to need help too.”

  Ellen gave Henry a sad smile. “That’s where you come in, Henry. I have you.” She slid the hand of his she held across her cheek. “I am so glad for that. Thank you.” She kissed his hand and raised her head to look at the clinic. “This is a nightmare. And the worst part is, I’m going to realize soon that I’m just not waking up from it.” Releasing Henry’s hand she stepped from the jeep and walked slowly to t
he clinic.

  For as much as Ellen loved Joe, he was the last person she wanted to see when she walked through those doors, because she knew the instant she laid her eyes upon him, she would fall apart. Just like the little girl who scraped her knee and was always fine until her father walked in the door. Just the sight of Joe, just the sight of the strength he had, the strength she needed, made her cry. He wrapped his arms around her, placing his lips firm to her forehead.

  “Sweetheart.” Joe held on to her. “I am so sorry.”

  “Me too, Joe.” Ellen tried not to cry. “I’m sorry for you too.”

  “We’ll get through this.” Joe pulled back from her and wiped his hand under his own eye. “We will ...” He cleared his throat, trying to shun the emotions he felt so powerfully. “We’ll ... get through this.” His hands gripped hers. “As a family, you hear.” He kissed her. “As a family.”

  How much Ellen’s heart broke more looking at Joe, his eyes red and glossy. And she listened to his simple words that they would get through it and she believed them because it was Joe who said them. And for as much as Ellen told herself she was going into the strong-mode, she took a few extra moments to be weak again, because with Joe she never had to be strong. Even in his pain he had enough strength for the both of them, and she just wanted to escape into his strength before she had to face her pain again.