The Third Ten

by Jacqueline Druga

  In the morning I requested Jack to come and see me. I didn’t tell him what we did or even why. I merely said to him, “Tell me what you need, and do what you need to do.”

  By afternoon Jack’s voice carried through the streets and in the galleys of our safe centers.

  “There is more out there. There is life, different than this. Freedom. We just need to find it. We need to be brave, to face our challenges, instead of hiding. We need to forge ahead and venture out into the forbidden zone in order to carry on.”

  His spoken words.

  Who would listen? Who would follow?

  It didn’t matter. I firmly believed in Jack’s mission and applauded his efforts to achieve it.

  29.

  Jack’s Side …

  When I was a young boy, maybe thirteen, my father took me into the city for the funeral of my grandfather.

  It was an amazing experience until I caught a glimpse of our pending future.

  My grandfather was a great man, as was my father. The strength my grandfather projected carried through like a rippling energy.

  It seemed and actually was, in the snap of a finger, the moment he died, all hell broke loose.

  We’re all theorized that the presence of my grandfather scared the LEP. They just didn’t know what he’d do.

  Maybe they feared him or respected him. No one knew for sure. But once he was gone, they emerged.

  At the funeral, just before the LEP attacked, my father told me that it was my destiny to lead the people from destitution and misery. I didn’t quite understand back then, but I do now.

  With each passing day and year, we become more and more prisoners of our own mistakes. We live behind walls, hide when needed, run and die.

  It isn’t life. It is existence.

  From what I learned, this great country was founded on freedom, yet mankind was no longer free. Despite what Dan told us.

  And despite the democracy that this country was founded upon, we turned totalitarian.

  I was fortunate enough to have my father and family teach me what I needed to know about history. But the rest of our young were taught a selective history.

  Our society did what we were told. We worked the jobs we were supposed to work. We stood in line for our food rations and never asked questions. We didn’t stop questioning out of fear, we stopped for lack of knowledge.

  Most didn’t know it was all right to speak your mind. The younger generation, my generation was 90% without parents. We had been raised in farms or camps and taught nothing but obedience.

  We were raised from birth to work a specific job based on genetics and build.

  My destiny wasn’t to just save the people from the LEP and lead them to safety. It was to save the people from everything this country had become and lead them to freedom.

  It’s hard to believe that merely forty years earlier there were things called ‘States’. Of course, that was when it was all just government. States ran like mini countries within a country. Fending for themselves financially, medically and through their own government. They were governed by the country, but were self sufficient.

  Now, the government governed all. There was no need for states.

  So the maps weren’t any good. Not anymore.

  We had people draw newer maps, which were based upon satellite images and zones.

  Zones.

  Not states. There were no state lines like there used to be.

  Only in very old history books would you find a map like that.

  There were four main zones.

  The Safe Zones which were small, scattered and in cities.

  The Savage Zones – they were territories that were run by LEP.

  The wastelands were land and areas that had been destroyed by war and were uninhabitable

  And the forbidden zones were unknown areas. Perhaps previously savage or waste.

  Most Safe Zones were around bodies of water.

  Further south marked on the map were Savage Zones. LEP didn’t like the cold.

  So much wasteland was along the eastern portion of the country and the Midwest, and it seemed like everything from the halfway point of the country heading west was forbidden.

  Legend told that a great meteor had come, flooded the area and left nothing. Then what remained was destroyed by the Great War.

  Not even the LEP could survive there.

  So the wastelands north and west and the forbidden zones was where I placed my focus.

  I asked once when the last time was that anyone was there. I never received an answer. The last recorded journey was twenty years earlier.

  Good God, how did we become so isolated?

  Danny told me it was for safety. We didn’t know if the air and water was safe, or if things could grow in the soil. The last testing showed it wasn't inhabitable. By all accounts and by satellite photos, it looked mostly dead with only patches of life.

  And we didn't know if, within those patches of life, the LEP existed.

  Armed with supplies based on the number of people that followed, we carried with us testing equipment and weapons. I marked my map. I planned my route. I laid out my destinations, those patches of green within the brown forbidden and wasteland zones.

  What did we have to lose? If nothing was there, we had enough supplies to turn back.

  A journey I thought I would take alone, ended up being a journey with seventy people.

  A pilgrimage of hope.

  Charles was my right hand man on the journey. Having known him since training, I moved on to a level five LEP fighter, while he maintained a three. Not because of his skill, but by his own choice.

  He was a man of little words and a non-emotional thinker. A skill that was totally needed on this trip.

  Most of our people were young, very young. In fact, I don’t think a person over the age of 27 took part in our pilgrimage. Which was fine.

  We left in February. Though the starting portion would be cold, it would also be safe. The LEP hated the cold, and this gave us a good head start through this unknown land.

  Not to say we didn’t run into problems. But our armored buses were well protected during any attacks.

  We had crossed into the northern territory, and made our way west at the Three Finger lakes.

  We had passed two green spots, as I called them. Places on the satellite that didn’t seem dead.

  There were more were out west.

  The first green area was ten miles west of the Three Finger lakes.

  It was a heavily wooded area, extremely overgrown. Lincoln, our science adviser, tested the soil. It was good, perfect for growing. Something the maps could not have told us. This gave me hope.

  The area though, was vulnerable to attack. We’d have to build if we wanted to stay there, and figure out a way to get water flowing.

  Danny was pleased at this news. Especially when I told him no LEP were spotted in days.

  We moved for days at a time and stopped to rest just as long. We needed to. The solar engines wore down. Our supplies held up well and I really wasn’t worried about it.

  We moved north, west and south, everywhere but back to where we came from.

  Charles commented that we seemed to zig-zag.

  A wasteland area, in the south west part of the country, was dry. But the soil proved hopeful.

  Unfortunately, people started to get restless.

  Two months into the journey, we had found many places. But nothing felt ‘right’ to me.

  Perhaps the dreamer in me was hoping to find a ready made place. Maybe that was just wishing for too much.

  I made a deal with Charles and Danny. I would give it two more weeks, bringing us to the three month mark. Had I not found what I felt we needed, we would backtrack and set up in that small south west town. It would be a week’s journey to return there, but at least we’d have a goal.

  General Allen asked for coordinates of this southwestern place, and said he would be ready to begin sending start up supp
lies.

  That was the plan.

  See, out west, there were no LEP. We hadn’t seen them in forever. Common sense would tell people to all move out there, but then common sense would be wrong. Because if all of the people moved, so would the LEP. But just a few of us wouldn’t be missed.

  We trekked north toward an area deemed both forbidden and wasteland. There was a small patch on the satellite map that I wanted to investigate.

  We had neared the two week mark and as people approached the area, they grew fearful. It was a double dose.

  So Charles and I journeyed the last two hundred miles alone.

  The whole area was green. My God, there were large hills covered in trees. We walked the last ten miles up a steep slope.

  “This is insane,” Charles said. “Even if there is flat land up there, to get here would be impossible.”

  “Yes, but think of the possibilities,” I retorted. “Safety.”

  “And water?”

  “Some mountains have lakes on top.”

  “What geographical teacher informed you of that?” Charles asked.

  “I can dream.”

  We made it to the top.

  “I feel it,” I said as we approached a line of trees. Clearly, we could see the trees ended. Something was there. “I feel it.” My voice picking up with enthusiasm.

  “Jack.”

  I took off in a sprint. I heard him grunt, but I didn’t pay much attention. I ran through the trees and as I emerged, I stopped.

  Land. But dry. Dirty. Rock. A mountain top that was flat, but all rock. I could barely keep standing.

  “What were you hoping for?” Charles asked as he joined me.

  I dropped to my knees.

  Charles walked past me. “Flat, green, farmable land?”

  “Yes.”

  Charles laughed. “Jack, I appreciate your dream. But realistically that wasn’t happening.”

  “There are mountain tops where people farm, live …”

  “Yes.” Charles walked onward. “But this isn’t one of them.”

  I lowered my head, my fists grabbed at the rocks. How could I feel so strongly about something and be so wrong? I didn’t look up. Charles kept moving. I could hear the rocks moving with each step he took.

  He voiced echoed across the empty mountain top. “Your quest was noble. But it wasn’t in vain. We still have the southern town. All this was a learning …”

  He stopped talking. Did he get hurt? I raised my head.

  Charles stood there, staring out.

  “Charles?” I called.

  He spun around, his face shocked, eyes wide. “Jack. Oh my God. Jack.”

  “What?”

  Charles waved to me and then tuned again. “You followed the right instinct.”

  I scurried, wondering what he spoke of. When I arrived, and stood next to Charles, I understood. I gasped.

  “You were right,” Charles said. “If this is clean, then this is perfect. Let’s get water and soil samples for Lincoln.”

  I was too shocked for words. Charles actually sounded excited. I felt it. And I felt something else. Even though we would take the land, air, and water samples, there was no need. It was clear visually, and in my gut, that mountain, was the place for which we had been searching.

  We had arrived.

  30.

  Back to Danny

  I nearly fell out of my chair when Jack called and said he found the perfect place. He was filled with so much enthusiasm, he rambled his words together and I had to tell him to slow down.

  “Uncle Dan, it’s perfect. Just perfect. I think this place all died out during the reaping plague back in ten.”

  I thought about what he said. How everything was really turn of the century old in the small town, even the houses. He told of how on the outskirts there was a big farm and the town was secluded.

  They tested the land... the water … everything was clean. The town sign was even still intact. Begtana.

  Instead of just having Jack make a list of what he would need, I decided that Billy and I would go out there ourselves. Billy would check the small clinic they had in the town.

  Jack had already brought the seventy people there and clean up had commenced. They began pulling weeds from the sidewalks and clearing the streets.

  I was as excited for him as he was.

  I transferred the call to General Allen who in turn took the coordinates for Begtana and would fly us out. He estimated a four hour trip.

  Four hours seemed like a lifetime.

  My stomach churned with excitement. Billy wasn’t as optimistic. He foresaw it as some old Indian reservation, perhaps even a museum.

  But Jack was insistent it would work.

  Billy’s lackluster attitude lasted only until the twin engine plane neared Begtana.

  “Danny,” he gasped out, hands smacking against the small window. He turned in his seat like a child.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Begtana.” Billy grinned. “Begtana with farmland and water. Begtana. Danny.” His voice crept up. “Secluded. It’s clean again. It’s livable again. It’s full circle.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Look.”

  I peered out of his side of the plane and lost my breath. “The sign must have been damaged.”

  “Begtana.” He smiled.

  I grinned in return. “Beginnings, Montana.”

  “Dan, we’re home.”

  Beginnings, to Jack, was a mythical place. It wasn’t talked about much at all. We mourned it. After all, it was poisoned and left to die.

  I don’t know who was more thrilled, myself or Billy over the prospect.

  See, when we left Beginnings, we left pretty much everything. And everything was tucked away, locked securely in the cryo tunnels of Beginnings.

  Jason’s research, all the pictures. It was a time capsule of sorts.

  No one really could appreciate it like Billy and I. Immediately we called Joey and anyone else who remembered Beginnings. Unfortunately, there weren’t that many of us left.

  Perhaps it was selfish, I don’t know. But I wanted to go through everything in those tunnels with Billy. I wanted us to see it first.

  Billy especially deserved to go into the cryo lab. A place where his father’s research was stored.

  He was in awe. So was I.

  I left him alone for six hours in that lab. When I returned he was in the back portion.

  “God, this brings back memories,” I said upon walking in.

  “I know. Ready to get it all back up and running?”

  “Yes, I am. Old as these bones are, Bill, I feel thirty again.” I grinned

  Billy was digging through an old freezer chest as he spoke. “Did .. Did you know the solar generators are still putting out power?”

  “Yeah, for Dean’s cases.”

  "They never turned off, Dan. In thirty years.”

  “That’s good.”

  “There’s research in here we can use. Stuff we need.”

  I sighed in relief. “See, even from beyond the grave, your father still manages to help us,” I said.

  “He does.”

  “You know what’s a shame. It’s a shame he isn’t in this world. His mind was brilliant. His mind was one of a kind,” I said. “He could have solved a lot of the problems we have.”

  “And those in the future.” Billy spoke in awe. “My father had potential that was only limited by life.”

  I tilted my head curiously. “What do you mean?”

  “Imagine if he were born today. If his mind was fed everything. Imagine the possibilities.”

  I nodded. “Sounds like a savior.”

  I paused when Billy lifted a small case. “What is that, Bill?”

  “Disks. His research on cloning.”

  My eyes widened. “But even Dean had a tough time with cloning.”

  “Yeah, but he had some success,” Billy said. “He also designed the artificial womb that could w
ork.”

  “What are you …”

  “Let’s resurrect him.” Billy spun around.

  “What?” I laughed. “The time machine …”

  “No, Danny, not bring him back. Not the time machine. Let’s have the second coming of my father.”

  “Second coming?”

  “Rebirth.”

  “How? Cloning? Dean said …”

  “Birthing.” Billy grinned widely and lifted another case. This one small. “The freezer never died.”

  “What is that?” I asked.

  “My father. His clone.”

  It made me stumble backward. We found Dean? Maybe not the Dean we all knew, but the Dean who had the mind potential to unlock and solve the problems of the world.

  We were back in Beginnings, and the possibilities that Billy held in his hand were limitless.

  If we could do it.

  If we could succeed in birthing that clone. My God ….

  Jack was insuring the future of mankind by securing it away in Beginnings Montana. That was his solution to man’s future.

  And I believed, in Billy’s hands was my solution.

  There was no better way to come full circle.

  JOE

  Beginnings Book 25

  A Momentary Pause…

  Once in a great while the characters of a novel speak to you. They speak to you as if they were real people. In the eyes of Beginnings they are.

  I often say that my Beginnings Novels write themselves. This isn’t exactly true. My characters will dictate a lot of the time where the story will go.

  I mean, do you really think I wanted Robbie to lose an arm? Joe to die? Henry to be gay … ok, maybe I didn’t want Henry to be gay and though he’d argue that he wasn’t gay, I did do that to him. He’s not gay he’s confused. Or do you think I decided outright that Frank would run fifty miles an hour, read minds and be the ultimate hero.

  Not to that extend. You bet.

  So now, before this entire Novel begins I am going to do a character survey. Like I did once before in Faulted Lines.

  I am going to ask each of my characters a question. And they will answer it. Hopefully their answers will guide me to what they want me to write.