“Taylor was the most precious thing. How she came from that annoying little Beginnings woman I’ll never know. Anyhow, she was five years old. The vaccine worked some, but ended up failing on her. She had the genetic link to her immune mother, but she was given it in a later stage and . . . she was just a child.”
“These men were servicemen,” Jeremy said. “They all left Hawaii together. They all separated in groups for an agreed length of time to search for families and get this . . . they all returned back to the meeting place, the town in Mexico.”
“Loyalty,” George said. “They stick together well.”
“Many years. When we came upon them they had picked up four women and two older men. Those six were moved to special sectors.”
“But we did take all the servicemen.”
“No.” Jeremy shook his head. “Six stayed behind.”
“What!” George barked. “You left six behind? Why!”
“They were not aggressors. And the six that stayed behind planned to stay for four weeks and then head out to us.”
George grumbled. “Probably a backup if something went wrong. Which means,” George smiled, “our defectors will head home.” He stood up. “We have to get a crew out to that town to wait.” He saw Jeremy shake his head. “No? Why?”
“The six were finishing up the move. See, they were moving to a better resource location, one they had been working on. That is where the six are waiting.”
George sat back down. “I guess asking you where this new location is would be in vain.”
“We haven’t a clue where that is.”
“Figures.” George dropped his face into his hands. After a moment, he laid his hands on the desk. “So now our defectors that no one worried about diverted our attack, wiped out our men, and stole our weapons.” George saw Steward’s mouth open. “Don’t. Don’t give me that stock line, ‘there are only forty-two men’. Because our forty-two renegades are probably now . . . eighty-six.”
CHAPTER SIX
Beginnings, Montana
It was a pretty large stack of folders that set before Ellen on the counter. She looked at the stack then to the clipboard. “Dean,” she spoke, “I know they’ll be some wait time on results in quarantine but do we really need all this side work?” Ellen shook her head looking at the list of items she had to prepare to have at the mobile lab within a few days. “Dean?”
Dean sort of heard her, but he was too engrossed at the other counter, a counter filled with items Ellen had brought of their life. His fingers kept flipping the cover of the hotel matchbook he held. Flipping it open, he saw his name written inside. “We had an affair.” Dean stated quietly then looked to his empty hand when the matches were snatched away.
“A hotel incident.” Ellen leaned on the counter next to him. “An afternoon.” She smiled.
“I’m sitting here racking my brains how Robbie got you to my lecture before the plague.”
“Robbie didn’t.” Ellen said. “I had planned to go anyhow. Why, didn’t I go in the time frame you remember?”
“Pete.” Dean stated. “He found a letter that confirmed your affair with Frank. You said things were ugly and you never went.”
“There you have it.” Ellen smiled. “Pete never found a letter from Frank. He found . . .” she started giggling, “one of Robbie’s dirty emails he sent me. Why I printed that up I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Anyhow, Robbie’s correspondence to me grew heavier and heavier before the plague. He called it his countdown to me needing him. Now that makes sense. Frank told him that in the letter.”
“And you ended up at the lecture.”
“And in bed with you,” Ellen explained. “It was nice. Of course you always said you fell in love with me the second you laid eyes on me at the lecture. When in your memory did you fall in love with me Dean?”
Dean chuckled in embarrassment. “The second I first laid eyes on you.” He turned back around to his items. “All this stuff is great. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Even though you looked at all that while I did the work.”
“And I appreciate it. We . . . we have a good history.” Dean gazed at the items.
“Yes, we did. Didn’t we have a good history in your memory?”
“Yeah.” Dean smiled. “Only right before Frank screwed everything up, you may have been working it out with Frank, but we had another incident and you were confused about your feelings.”
“Well then see.” Ellen smiled and tapped Dean’s cheek. “Nothing’s changed. And I have to go.” She hurried and kissed him. “I want to stop and see how Henry’s doing with that microchip in the cryo-lab.”
“You’re just leaving me hanging,” Dean said.
“Yep.” Ellen backed up. “And I’ll get those things tomorrow.”
Dean nodded and returned to the items Ellen brought. No sooner did he look upon them then he heard Ellen’s distant voice saying, ‘Hey, Rev. Thomas’.
Dean lifted his head. The sound of that name sent a sickening feeling straight to his gut, causing Dean to spin around, losing his balance some, and slamming back first into the counter.
“The Lord has sent me to deliver a warning to you.” The deep voice resonated from the towering big man, his red hair long and vibrant. He carried a large red bible.
“Moses . . . I mean . . .” Dean swallowed, anger filled his chest. “Thomas.”
“Listen to his word Dr. Hayes!” Thomas held up the bible. “For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, they are plans for good and not disaster, to give you a future and a hope. These are the Lord’s words as spoke through Jeremiah.”
“I don’t have time for this or you,” Dean pointed. “And I would appreciate you not coming into my lab quoting the Lord’s word. Not you. Not ever.” He turned back around and began collecting the Ellen memorabilia items.
“You take this tone with me when you vow to change the future that our Lord has laid out. Vow to change it by bringing the beast of the future to our Beginnings now? Rev. Bob has informed me of these endeavors.”
Though religiously it wasn’t the correct thing to do, Dean damned Reverend Bob for opening his mouth. “You really don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The metal deliverance of evil you brought to our fields.”
“The lab?” Dean laughed. “See what you know. It’s science.” He walked over and shut down his computer.
“It is death. And you, Dr. Hayes . . .” His heavy hand pointed down. “Are the anti-Christ who delivers it.”
With a fluttering of his lips, Dean broke down in laughter. “All right, I’ve heard it all. I’ve been called a little-man with an attitude. A wife stealer. Even gay. But never have I been called the anti-Christ. Thanks, that’s a new one.” Chuckling Dean grabbed his belongings and moved across the lab.
“You plan to bring this virus before its time. Deliver it on the people of Beginnings.”
“Really? Thanks for the prophecy. Now, leave.” Dean shut off the light and shoved Moses as he walked. “Out. Out.” He led him to the hall and pulled the door closed. Then doing something Dean hadn’t done in a long while, he locked the lab door. “Goodnight.” Hearing Moses still mumbling bible quotes, Dean, not showing his agitation, walked down the hall. How Moses was permitted to live in Beginnings was beyond him. And the confrontation would warrant--no matter how painful it was--a mentioning of it to Frank.
^^^^
It was so quiet with only the sound of turning pages and an occasional click of the keyboard emanated into the tunnel from the cryo-lab. Silently Ellen stood in the door, watching Henry. He sat on a stool in front of the only computer that was on. Three or four text books spread out before him. With a thermos tucked under her arm and a cloth covered plate, Ellen walked softly into the lab. She cleared her throat so as not to startle him too much. Standing right behind him, she leaned over, resting her chin on his shoulder. “How’s it going?”
Henry sighed. “It’s sort of like the f
irst date syndrome in that getting to know it phase.” He lifted the chip with tweezers. “My date.” He smiled. “My companion in quarantine while you and Dean are playing with germs.”
“You aren’t going to sleep with it are you?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m bringing back cybersex.”
Ellen snickered. “Good one. Anyhow, I was just gonna stop by and see how things were. But knowing you and how you put your mind to things, I went home first to stock you up.” She laid the thermos and plate before him. “Sandwiches and tea. See how special you are Henry. That is made with the tea I brought back from Nebraska.”
“Thanks, El.” Henry looked up with a smile. “But I really don’t plan on being here all night. Honest.”
With a smirk, Ellen nodded. “Sure you don’t.” She ran her hand down his back then folded her arms. “I’ll let you be. Don’t work too hard. And eat something.”
Spinning on the stool, Henry faced Ellen. “El, thanks a lot. It really means something to have someone just care where you’re at and that you ate. I haven’t had that at all in a long time. I’m really, really glad you’re my roommate.”
“And I’m insulted, Henry. I’m more than that. I’m your friend.” Ellen waited until she received Henry’s embarrassed look. “Besides,” she sighed out and moved to the door, living with you is safe. It keeps me from prematurely choosing the wrong side of the fence.”
“El.” Henry’s voice was soft. “You can get mad at me for saying this but . . . Frank’s your husband. There isn’t a choice.”
Ellen nodded. “I know. I just have no one who understands. I can’t go to the women. They’re all into this two men, understanding thing. And even if Frank and Dean would agree to that.” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t let it happen. No understanding. It’s an easy way out for a problem I’ve had long before understandings happened. I just hope you never to choose between two people you love. It’s bad.”
Slowly Henry looked up. “It can’t possibly be as bad as having no one to love.”
Ellen’s eyes closed and she folded her arms tighter. “Humbled. I’m sorry.” She started to leave, but stopped. “Henry? I know it’s not the same thing. But . . . I love you.”
Though it had a hint of sadness, Henry smiled.
“Night.” After one more flash of a smile, Ellen walked out. As she stepped into the tunnel she saw the odd sight of John Matoose walking down the tunnel. Following him at the same quick pace, Ellen wanted to call out but opted for a loud dramatic gasp instead, a gasp that caught his attention as he tried to climb the ladder.
John released the rung. “Ellen.” He spoke her name with annoyance.
“John?” She folded her arms walking to him. “Are you . . . are you spying on Henry?”
“Why would you even ask such a stupid question?”
“Because you’re a stupid man.”
“And you’re an annoying woman.” He reached for the rung again. “And just so your Harriet the Spy mind doesn’t take off somewhere, I was finishing my rounds.”
“Oh sure you are. I believe that. Since when does security make rounds in these tunnels? Frank never makes rounds in these tunnels.”
“Then Frank doesn’t do his job.”
“Obviously if you’re still walking the streets of Beginnings. You know what I think?” Ellen moved even closer trying, though not succeeding, at looking intimidating. “I think you’re worried about what Henry is doing in the cryo-lab.”
“I could care less about Henry in the cryo-lab.”
“Then why were you spying on him?”
“I was walking my rounds! And I’m not arguing over it with you. You don’t know anything.” He began to climb.
“I know that you were in on it with George.”
“Ellen . . .” John paused in his climbing. “Fuck off.”
Giggling and thinking how much fun her confrontations were with John, Ellen waited until he was up and far away and then she climbed to the top also.
^^^^
Lee-Curtis Mansion
Arlington National Cemetery
A grumble and a shiver accompanied Elliott’s entrance into the mansion. He pulled the front door closed, stepped over the three sleeping men in the entrance hall and turned left to the sitting room. He cleared his throat.
The Captain turned from his stand by the fire. “Hey, Elliott.”
Elliott stepped inside. “Night watchmen are all secure.”
“Good. I’m going to be up all night if you want to go to sleep.”
“Sleep sounds good. I’m sure I’ll squeeze in somewhere.” Elliott walked closer. “Reading the Caceres Society newsletter?”
“Yes.” The Captain grinned. “Talk about luck. I go to get more info and there’s a town meeting.” He laughed. “Of course, Hadley is an asshole and the men are stupid if they believed what he said. A lot is bullshit, some is truth. He made valid points. But you’ll be glad to hear we don’t need to go in for any more information.”
“Why?” Elliott asked. “You said the meeting wasn’t that informative and what you have isn’t that much.”
“What I had. Look what I have now.” The Captain reached down and pulled up what looked like a log book. “Steward Lange’s person entry diary.”
Elliott’s eyes widened. “I can’t believe you took that risk.”
“Yeah, it kind of was. But it was worth it. I was thinking.” The Captain paced some. “I’m not really wanting us to leave a trail of bodies anymore. Not for a while. I’m not wanting the society to get pissed and go after us full force before we’re ready.”
“Ready? Ready for what?”
“I’m working on a plan.” The Captain held up a finger. “But for now, any infiltration or diversion we make, we should use gas.”
“Gas would work, but where are we . . .” Elliott saw the Captain’s point to a small green knapsack. “Let me take a wild guess. Gas courtesy of the society? As a child did you find yourself getting into a lot of trouble?”
The Captain smiled. “Never. You do know we have to go into Quantico at least one more time.”
“For?” Elliott asked.
“Hating to do it…food. Right now they’re our only resource until we make it back home and we have a lot of mouths to feed.”
“And keep warm,” Elliott said. “Not that this charming haunted house won’t do, but it’s not safe. Too much movement in DC.”
“You’re right. And I have thought of that. In fact I’d like to make plans to move by dusk tomorrow.”
“You’ve thought of a place already?” Elliott said pleased.
“Absolutely.”
Worry hit Elliott at that moment when he saw the look on the Captain’s face. “I’m gonna hate it, aren’t I?”
The Captain grinned wide. “Absolutely.”
^^^^
Former Quantico Marine Headquarters
From the small bathroom adjacent to his bedroom, Steward Lange stumbled in his insomniac frustration. Hair tossed about from fanatic finger rampaging, he made his way to his small personal desk in the corner of the room.
He sat down in the chair that squeaked and turned on his desk light. He needed something boring to do or at least something that worked his mind. Placing on his glasses, Steward opened his left hand drawer and while grabbing a pen, he reached blindly into the drawer. He expected it to be there. It was big enough that his hand wouldn’t miss it. Steward would have thought he left it in the office had he not pulled out the small slip of paper that was in the empty drawer instead of his personal log diary. A note that simply read ‘Thanks for the log!’.
He didn’t have to think too hard to know who took it. Steward knew exactly the culprits. And knowing that, along with wanting to save face and any extreme verbal lashing from the president, Steward ripped up the note. As far as Steward was concerned, he never had a log diary and he wasn’t about to let George know he had one that was stolen, especially one with such vital information in it.
^^^^
Beginnings, Montana
Ellen checked her hair to see if it was still damp from her shower. Laying in her bed waiting for it to be dry enough for her to go to sleep without risking total pandemonium bed head, Ellen sifted through the pile of old tabloids she had saved. During the past hour she had looked at the pictures in every one of them. Thinking maybe she might break down and read an article, she blindly reached for one from the middle. Mid grab, she decided she didn’t want to be literary. A little uncomfortable, bored and not to mention chilly, she walked to her dresser for her sweat pants. Stepping into them and pulling them on, she heard the sound of the front door opening slowly. Henry. She thought with a smile. Though she didn’t expect him home, Ellen was glad he arrived. She was going out of her mind being alone. Hearing a rummaging, and the sound of him bumping into the lamp table, Ellen snickered and stepped from her room. “Henry?” She called out. “Henry.”
She didn’t get an answer.
“Henry?” She moved closer to the stairs and she heard the footsteps, the floorboards of the stairs creaking slowly as they were ascended. “Henry, answer me.” Still no response, the footsteps continued. Thinking quickly, Ellen stepped back speaking loudly. “Frank, I think someone is downstairs, can you get up and check?” Suddenly the footsteps stopped and the sound of running back down was heard, followed by the slamming of the front door. “Shit.” Ellen grabbed her chest. “Oh shit.” She breathed heavily and her heart raced. “Shit.” Frantic, she searched for her shoes and placed them on. “I have to find Frank.” Walking in a quick stride into the hall, Ellen took a deep breath. She counted to three then with everything she had, she charged down the steps, ran out the door, closed it and took off, top speed all the way to Frank’s house.
With the burst of the front door and a flick on of the light, Ellen called out in a whisper as she raced into Frank’s house. “Frank! Frank!”
Robbie grumbled and sounded muffled as he lay on the sofa, half on his side, wearing only his boxer shorts with his blanket across his feet. “Aw El.” He covered his face with the pillow.
State of Time: Beginnings Series Book 6 Page 6
