The Third Ten

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The Third Ten Page 24

by Jacqueline Druga


  Robbie lifted the tracking unit. “Hey, Dean. Look what I got.”

  “Great.” Dean said less than enthused.

  “Yeah, Hal and Elliott will be the only two with access.”

  Frank asked. “Why does Elliott have to know?”

  “That’s what I want to know,” Dean said.

  “Guys, hello.” Ellen spoke up. “Why not? It’s Elliott.”

  Robbie chuckled. “The man of honor. Anyhow. Frank you’re all fueled up, ready to go. Any problems radio. I have a refueling post outside of Lodi all set up. Landing strips are in place. Lars checked. Weather’s good. You should …”

  “Whoa. Whoa.” Ellen interrupted. “Robbie, why are you telling Frank all this? You’re acting as if you’re not going.”

  “I’m not.” Robbie said. “I have to be here to help Elliott.”

  “Are we waiting for John Matoose? Who’s flying us?” Ellen asked.

  “Frank.” Robbie answered.

  “Frank?”

  “Me.” Frank nodded.

  “You?”

  “Yep.”

  “No.” Ellen waved her hand. “No. Frank is not flying the plane.”

  “I am too.”

  “He is,” Robbie said.

  “No.”

  Danny nervously shifted his eyes with a smile. “What’s wrong with Frank flying?”

  Ellen answered. “Frank can’t fly.”

  “What!” Danny blasted.

  “I can too.” Frank defended.

  “No, Frank, you can’t fly.” Ellen said.

  Danny looked at Frank. “You can’t fly? Why are you flying a plane across the country?”

  Robbie halted them. “Frank can fly.”

  Danny exhaled.

  “Just not well.”

  “Uh!” Danny spun away. “I’m Buddy Holly. People always die in small planes when they are just accomplishing stuff in life. I’m done. I’m doomed.”

  “Me, too.” Ellen said.

  Dean chuckled. “Guys, stop. Frank can fly. Frank flies well. What doesn’t he do well?”

  Frank snapped his finger with a point to Dean. “You are so right. Thanks, Dean.”

  Dean nodded. “He gets his rough spots, but pulls through like in life. You’re fine. Would I let you on the plane, El if I didn’t think so?”

  Robbie answered, “I don’t know, Dean, you did tattoo ‘sweet cheeks’ on Haps chest.”

  “Don’t forget stole Forrest’s toenails,” Frank added.

  “Thank you.” Dean nodded. “Just when I was giving you the vote of confidence, Frank.”

  Frank laughed. “Kidding. Okay, El, get in. Danny. Let’s go.” He saw their hesitation. “Now, please.”

  Reluctantly, Danny embarked. El reached out her hand to Dean, sliding her fingers against his as she climbed inside.

  “El.” Dean stopped her. “Here.” He reached into his chest coat pocket. “In case you need it.” He handed her a blue bottle.”

  Ellen looked at it. “Thank you.”

  “What is it?” Danny asked as she climbed in.

  “Air sickness medicine.”

  “Will you share?”

  “Buckle up,” Frank instructed. Quickly they did that. “Okay, Robbie, we’re off.” He laid his hand on the door. “Now, one more time. How do I land this thing?” he closed the plane door with a wink that only Robbie could see. He laughed at the sounds of Ellen and Danny begging to get out. After a handshake and fast embrace to his brother, Frank walked around to get on the plane.

  Robbie enjoyed seeing the desperate faces of Ellen and Danny peering helplessly out the small window. Dean did too, for that matter. He and Robbie stayed on Robert Slagel Airfield until the plane had taxied and was safely in the air.

  ***

  It was the day. Johnny didn’t sleep much the night before, because he dwelled on it. Actually, in the days proceeding, he dwelled on it, but didn’t let it show. He tossed in bed, turned all night. Mini dreams of his father sent him awake and sitting up in bed. Maybe Frank wasn’t coming.

  Not that Johnny didn’t miss his father, but he was scared. Scared to death to face him. He had shot him. Twice, mind you, as Lars kept saying.

  Not only on this day would his father and Ellen arrive, but the CME scientist would as well. They’d examine Johnny, confer on him, and operate the next afternoon.

  His mind was not on his morning chores. He even went out to the Lodi Killer Baby region to see if he could endanger himself and have some fun. But even that seemed too easy.

  The final straw was the sound of the phone.

  Only one place ever called … Beginnings. He couldn’t hear what Mike said, admittedly he didn’t try.

  In his mind he fantasized that Mike would come up and say Ellen was alone on the trip. Again, a fantasy.

  His heart pounded with every step he heard Mike take on the staircase. Did Mike always walk that loud?

  The single knock merely made him take a heart attack.

  “John,” Mike said as he opened the door. “That was Beginnings.”

  On his bed, Johnny looked up.

  “They’re on their way.”

  “My dad?”

  Mike nodded.

  “Did they ... did they make a decision about me Mike?”

  Mike nodded again. “They just finished the count. Didn’t even announce it to the community. They …”

  “No.” Johnny stopped him. “Don’t tell me, Okay. I’ll let you tell Ellen and let her tell me. Will that work?”

  “Works.”

  “Thanks.”

  Mike retreated from the door and closed it.

  Another sound and another jolt. Johnny had a few more hours to go. If he was that jumpy pre the arrival, he didn’t want to think of how he’d be after.

  ***

  Joe could imagine the screams that entailed inside the small plane as it dipped over the skies of Beginnings.

  It didn’t worry Joe at all, in fact he laughed. Frank did it on purpose. He could just see it. He had waited to see the plane fly over head, knowing they made it safely off the ground. He sipped his coffee, turned and walked back to his office. As he made his approach, he could see Elliott Ryder walking his way. Joe waved.

  “Morning Mr. Slagel.”

  “Elliott.” Joe opened the door for him. “Little early for our morning meeting isn’t you?”

  “I finished the round early, sir and wanted to touch base before the rest of the day.”

  “Anything good? Joe asked, walking around to his desk and exhaling as he took his seat.

  “Seems sector thirty-two is hopping again.”

  “Killer babies back in full force.”

  Elliott nodded. “And we fed them.”

  “Which means, our monster wasn’t out there.”

  Elliott shook his head. “No sight or sound of the monster for days.”

  “Or the mutilator.”

  “Not since we cornered Dean.”

  “Connection?”

  Joe sat back with a hard swipe across his face. “No. No. I’m gonna say it’s coincidence. Frank gave quite an argument.”

  “You know, I have an idea.”

  “Go on.”

  “It’s farfetched.”

  “We have a monster in Beginnings Elliott and a mutilator. How farfetched are we talking?”

  “Frank does that mind reading trick. We should put suspects in a room with one of the victims, make them look them have Frank walk through reading minds.”

  “Christ.”

  “Told you it was farfetched and out there.”

  “That’s not it; it’s not a bad idea. But how and why do we explain why we have them in the room.”

  Elliott shrugged an answer. “Handwriting recognition, perhaps?”

  Joe snapped a finger. “Good idea. But we’ll tell each group not to mention to the other. No preconceived notions.”

  Elliott nodded. “Robbie and I can work on a list of suspects if you like, and when Frank returns, we c
an do this.”

  “I like this,” Joe said. “It won’t be hard core proof, but if Frank finds out anything, it will give us directions.”

  “That is …” Elliott paused.

  “What?”

  “Well, Frank has a history of knowing things and ….”

  “Keeping his mouth shut. Yes, I know. But I’m one up on that.”

  “How do you mean?”

  Joe smiled. “Frank can read minds, I can read my son. I know when he hides things. Aside from being my son; he is the worst goddamn liar on the face of the earth. So, we’ll do this. Let’s move onward.” Joe pulled forth a clipboard at the same time as Elliott and their meeting began.

  ***

  The photo fumbled from his hands in complete surprise, the frame ‘clattering’ on the desk, while producing an almost ‘busted’ look upon George Hadley’s face.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you, sir,” Bertha Callahan, his right hand ‘man’, entered the office. “I thought you were home today.”

  “What is home Callahan?”

  “Sir?”

  “Is it a structure you live in? Or is home where you have those you love and care for around you. African natives used to call straw huts their home. Would you.”

  Bertha didn’t know how to answer. “Sir, I …”

  “What brings you in here?”

  “Well, aside from checking the progress of the Frederickson readiness, I wanted to call Lodi and tell them the CME surgeon is en route.”

  George pushed the phone her way. “Don’t let me keep you.” George slowly stood up.

  “Feeling a little lonely today sir?”

  “As a matter of fact, I am. Plus, you know, worried about Johnny.”

  “Understandably so.” Bertha slipped behind his desk, as she did she saw the photograph. “Sir?” she lifted it. “You forgot this.”

  “Actually …” George reached for the picture frame. “It was here. But I think I’ll take it with me.”

  “You think about her a lot, don’t you?”

  George stared at the picture of Margaret. “You know Callahan, I spent a lot of time with her. Years. It’s hard to let things go.”

  Bertha gave a sympathetic look.

  “Make your phone calls.”

  George took his time leaving the office. He listened to Bertha dial, and then ask for Mike. She seemed to be speaking to someone on the phone, after a few seconds of eavesdropping; he learned that it was Tigger. George chuckled at the thought of the ‘ringer’ the boy was going to put Callahan through on her mission to speak to Mike. He even laughed at himself after stepping outside when he swore he heard Bertha tell Tigger she was hot for him. But after realizing the ridiculous notion of that, and how farfetched that was, George chalked it up to her saying something else, and moved on with his photograph.

  ***

  “I’m killing Frank,” Robbie said out loud, adjusting his headset as he heard the final ‘buzz’ of the perimeter gate.

  “Everything Okay?” Ellen asked over the airwaves.

  “Just saying how I’m killing Frank.”

  “You can wait,” Elliott said. “There’s no immediate need to go out there.”

  “Nah, if there’s a problem, the last thing I want is hear Frank bitch that we didn’t look into it.”

  “I’m sure he’ll understand.”

  Robbie shook his head, Elliott didn’t see that. “I’m going in.”

  “You have the Dean-Ami, right?”

  “Armed and ready. Fuck.” Robbie opened the gate.

  It wasn’t the first time Robbie had ventured into the Killer Baby region, but it was the first time, since know about their existence, he did so without Frank. Frank is their God, and the killer babies do nothing to him. Everyone else was fair game.

  Robbie knew the chances, but after the second report of strange noises, he had to investigate. What if it was the monster? Or something else. He walked with caution. Not that Robbie was scared, he was apprehensive and concerned.

  Dean-Ami gas can in hand, rifle in the other, Robbie would step. Stop, listen.

  Nothing.

  The sound was described as cries. Almost shrill, attack. He had never known the killer babies to make noises like that.

  The quietness creped him out more than anything. A few more investigative steps and Robbie was calling it quits. He stepped further, nothing.

  Time to go back. He lowered his radio, and spoke near whisper. “Nothing. Coming back.” He wouldn’t turn around, they wouldn’t be smart. Instead Robbie stepped backwards, keeping his eyes peered. He received a ‘nothing on tracking’ all clear, but that didn’t mean anything.

  One more step and Robbie’s leg hit a branch. He stumbled back, but before he could completely fall to the ground, his hand landed in an attempt to stop himself. He would have been successful had his hand not hit a wet substance.

  The feel was a thicker one and Robbie immediately thought, ‘clotted blood’ until he raised his hand. It was almost slimy, milky.

  “What the hell?” he asked aloud, making a ‘grossed out’ face. He rubbed his hand against his pants and as he did. He saw the pile. About six inches in diameter, smeared from his fall. But it wasn’t the only one. There had to be ten piles of it. All sort of running together as if something tromped through.

  “Robbie, you there?” Elliott called out.

  “Yeah, Elliott. I’m not coming in yet. But I’ll be by the fence just in case.”

  “Why? What’s wrong?” Elliott asked.

  “I don’t know. Yet. But there’s something I need to get and I’ll meet you at my dad’s. I have a really weird theory. But first I need to get a hold of Hector.”

  “Hector?”

  “Yeah.” Robbie arrived at the gate.

  “Be safe while you wait for him.”

  “Will do. I’m at the perimeter now. It’s quiet. I’ll call you when I’m on my way in.” Robbie switched channels. “Hector, Hector, you there.”

  “Yeah, Robbie, what’s up?”

  “Hey, can you stop what you’re doing and come up here.”

  “Where you at?”

  “Sector thirty-two, right by you.”

  Hector laughed. “The Killer Baby region. You want me up there?”

  “Just to the fence. I need you to bring me something ASAP.”

  “Sure, what?” Hector asked.

  “A canning jar and lid.”

  “What for?”

  Robbie hesitated. “Something I found. Can you?”

  “Be there in a second.”

  “Thanks.” Robbie peered out for safety sake and then to his hand. A small residual amount remained. He called for Hector again. “Hey, Hector, can you grab me a pair of rubber gloves.”

  “Rubber gloves. As in medical or work?”

  “Either or. Thanks.” Robbie ended the radio call and looked to his hand again. He had an idea in his mind, but couldn’t be sure. Of course, he had to not think about what he thought it was. His conclusion of the substances sickened him in more ways than one.

  ***

  It never ceased to amaze Joe that no matter how stupid Frank talked, when he did his reports or observations he sounded intelligent. Joe actually contemplated having Frank write everything out. He looked at his watch. It wouldn’t be long before he heard that they landed safely in Lodi. Though he didn’t want to admit it, Joe’s mind kept straying to that. The safety of their flight, the surgery the next day.

  A phone call ten minutes earlier from Steve at the front gate told Joe that Hal was in town. Hal was driving Jason back after a morning of hearings. Jason, as standard would stop by the office, deliver a quick synopsis then head to history.

  Joe expected him shortly, but he also knew the knock on his door wasn’t Jason.

  “Come in.” Joe called out.

  The door opened slightly, and Henry peeked in. Of course, Joe saw the black bandana first.

  “You wanted to see me, Joe.”

  “Yeah, Henry, c
ome in. You busy?”

  “Not right now. I was going to take a lunch. I wanted to go to Bowman, meet up with your son.”

  “Which one I have two. Not including Frank.”

  “Three not including Frank.”

  Joe cringed. “Sorry.”

  “No, problem. Actually, the one you keep forgetting about. Jimmy. I wanted to hook up with him. Have a talk.”

  “About?”

  “Jenny Matoose.”

  “Henry, stay out of it.”

  “No, Joe, I can’t. The men are talking. Hector told me there’s talk that those two are having an affair and I wanted to give Jimmy a heads up. All he needs is for John Matoose to find out.”

  Henry caught the stare Joe tossed.

  “What?” Henry asked.

  “You’re telling me, in a civilization where it is common place to share women, people are worried about John finding out his wife is with another man?”

  “Well, yeah, Joe, because he’s not doing things right.”

  Joe waved out his hand.

  “You don’t think they’ll be trouble?”

  “No.”

  “Okay.” Henry shrugged.

  “If you feel that strongly about it, he’s coming into town to have lunch with Hal and Elliott. Talk to him then.” Joe saw Henry shake his head. “Why not?”

  “I don’t want to see Hal?”

  “Why, Henry?”

  “He doesn’t like me, Joe.” Henry said. “And he makes me nervous because he’s so ….arrogant.”

  Joe sighed out. “You done insulting my family?”

  “You asked.”

  “I’ll give you that. Anyhow, the reason I brought you in, Danny is away, so you know. Andrea has appointments following up our dysentery mess.”

  Henry snickered.

  “What?” Joe asked.

  “Dysentery mess. Sorry. Go on.”

  “I need you to witness and take minutes on my briefing with Jason.”

  “Joe?” Henry called upon him curiously. “Why are you having a witness and minutes? You never did that before.”

  “I always had witnesses before.”

  “True.”

  “And … and to be honest. This is a secret, what I have to talk to him about, and you have a good history of keeping a secret.”

 

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