The Third Ten

by Jacqueline Druga

  Bang. Bang. Bang.

  Frank pounded his fist on the glass. “Hey! Big Guy.”

  The future Lep slowly walked to the window.

  “What’s your name?” Frank asked.

  “Frank?” Dean approached. “That isn’t going to work.”

  “Dean, I’m telling you.” Frank looked at the window. “Name.” He shouted to the LEP.

  Dean shook his head. “Frank, listen to me.”

  Frank ignored Dean. He pointed to his own chest. “Frank.” He then pointed to Dean. “Dean. Who … are you? Name. Frank.” He patted his chest.

  “Frank, this is stupid, it’s not …”

  “Chaka.” The LEP answered.

  Dean stumbled back surprised. “It worked.”

  “Thanks.” Frank gave him a thumbs up and walked away. When he returned to the lab, he told Ellen. “His name is Chaka.”

  Elle’s eyes widened. “Did he tell you or do you have some sort of weird connection.”

  “He told him,” Dean said. “And what was it you wanted to ask us?”

  “About?” Frank asked.

  “You said you were solving crime. You needed ….”

  “Oh. Oh. Yeah. Elliott, what is his mind doing?” Frank asked.

  “I don’t know Frank, he’s in a coma.”

  “Is he sleeping? Dreaming?”

  “Why?”

  “I want to know if it’s okay to see if I can tap in.”

  “Can you do that?” Dean asked.

  “I don’t know. I never tried.”

  “Why do you want to do that?”

  “He saw the shooter before he was shot,” Frank said.

  “How do you know?” Dean asked.

  “When Johnny said there was someone on the roof, Elliott said, ‘I see him’ then he was shot.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t try to read his mind,” Dean said.

  “Dean.” Ellen interrupted. “Elliott was shot. There wasn’t enough time.”

  “Oh, I tried,” Frank said. “I did.”

  Ellen rushed forward. “You did. Who was it?”

  “I won’t say. Not yet. Not to anyone. I’m not putting that out there until Ryder wakes up and says. We can’t be sure what I read was actually the person he saw. It couldn’t have been a last minute lust thought. We don’t know. It’s not fair until Ryder says who he saw on that roof.”

  Ellen groaned. “Can you give us a hint?”

  “No,” Frank said. “So can I, Dean?”

  “Sure. Go on. I don’t know if it will work. Why do you want to do that anyhow if you read his mind?”

  “Just in case he is dreaming about it. Thinking about it. You know. Thanks, I’ll let you know if the experiment works. And don’t eat that beef jerky.” Frank walked to the door.

  “Don’t worry,” Dean said. “I won’t.” He turned back around.

  “Ha!” Frank blasted.

  Ellen jumped.

  Dean spun. “What?”

  “Yes,” Frank said with a snap of his finger and point to Dean. “Yes, it is.”

  “Did you just read my mind?” Dean asked.

  “I did,” Frank replied.

  “Quit reading my mind!” Dean paused. “And it is?”

  “Yep.”

  “Who?” Ellen asked.

  “Wow, that was just a guess,” Dean said.

  “A good one.”

  “Who?”

  “What are you gonna do?” Dean asked.

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know. First is Ryder. He needs to confirm.”

  “Who!” Ellen screamed her loudest.

  “El!” Frank blasted. “I can’t tell you.”

  “You told him.”

  “No, I did not. He thought it.”

  “Technically,” Dean said. “He didn’t.”

  “Technically my ass. Both of you suck. I’m gonna go stare at Chaka and wait for him to have to go to the bathroom.” Ellen stormed out.

  “I gotta go. I’ll check in later,” Frank said.

  “Frank... thanks. Seriously.”

  Frank nodded and walked out.

  “Wow,” Dean said to himself. “I was right.” He nodded and smiled. “I was right.”

  <><><><>

  Joe really didn’t need to, but he couldn’t resist having one more piece of chocolate covered jelly candy. Gemma brought them to him as a test run, gave him a sheet of paper with a grading scale for each flavor. A shop was vacant in Bowman and she wanted to start Gemma’s Gems.

  Joe was hesitant. After all, jelly candies reminded him of his youth. When someone would get a box of chocolates and three quarters of them were jelly candy. The ones that never got eaten and suffered the thumbprint test mark.

  Gemma brought up ten. Two of each flavor and each one better than the last. He had four left and before he soured his appetite for lunch, he wrapped them up and put them in his drawer. Before he did so, he marked every single one as excellent on Gemma’s chart.

  Thinking of Gemma made Joe also think of that afternoon lunch counter she had. A daily special that cost two Danny Dollars. Usually, it was a better tasting extension of what they served in Containment. Because of everything with Elliott, Andrea didn’t pack Joe a lunch. So Joe figured, he’d take that candy quality survey to Gemma, get one of her lunch specials, hopefully, snatch up more candy then stop to see Elliott.

  Just as he was about to leave, there was a knock at his office door, and Joe in typical fashion, called out, “Come in.”

  Henry walked in. “Hey, Joe.”

  Joe sat back. “Henry. What can I do for you?”

  “I just came up to double check you took care of that problem?”

  “What problem would that be?”

  “The thing in the cryo lab?”

  “Oh, yes. That …. I did.”

  “And?”

  “And it’s taken care of.”

  “So they killed it.”

  “Henry,” Joe snapped. “It’s handled. That’s all you need to know.”

  “That’s not good enough Joe.’

  “Excuse me?” Joe titled his head.

  “If the community finds out …”

  “How will they find out?”

  Henry shrugged out. “Things get out.”

  “Yeah, well, I have a lot on my plate. In case you didn’t know, Elliott was shot.”

  “Yes, I heard. This thing in the lab is dangerous.”

  “And if the community finds out, I’ll handle it.”

  “Fine, just don’t expect me to clean up his clogged toilet again.” Henry stood and as soon as he faced the door, there was a knock.

  The door opened. Frank popped his head in. “Hey, Dad, I …” he looked at Henry. “Henry.”

  Joe asked, “What’s up, Frank?”

  “I just wanted to let you know I was going off the radar. I need to get some rest. Just an hour.”

  “No problem.”

  Frank snapped his finger. “Henry, you doing anything.”

  “I’m working, Frank,” Henry said.

  “Can you take a few minutes? I’m heading back to the clinic to see Elliott. I’m hoping you being there may bring him out.”

  “Me,” Henry asked.

  “Yeah, strangest thing. Before he went under he said your name. Henry … Frank made his voice sound groggy. “Friend.”

  “Really?” Henry asked.

  “Yeah, strangest thing. Come with me.”

  “Frank, I really don’t have the time to…”

  “Come on Henry, we never do anything together anymore. Let’s go visit the dying man.”

  “Okay.” Henry walked to the door and looked back at Joe. “I’ll check in later.”

  “I’m sure you will,” Joe said.

  The door closed and Joe sat back popping a candy into his mouth. “Now what is Frank up to?”

  <><><><>

  Admittedly, Frank had a great office and Hal made his way there. He didn’t want to leave Beginnings, even if he
could, not with Elliott being in a fragile state. However, he also had a town to run and the Great War was on the horizon. Training was imperative. Hal was certain Owens would be fine overseeing training, but there was more to being the leader.

  It took two men to keep the Bowman wheel turning and unfortunately neither of those men weren’t in town.

  He needed to check in with George. Hal was having a little bit of a hard time dealing with the fact that his father put George in charge. With Beginnings on lockdown, Bowman was in charge of the other provinces. It was a lot of work.

  “First and foremost,” George said. “How’s Sgt. Ryder?”

  “He’s out of the woods but not out of danger. Although Dean said he was doing remarkably well and we could see a full recovery faster than we thought.”

  “Wait. I was told he was shot up pretty bad.”

  “He was.” Hal lifted his eyes when Danny Hoi walked in.

  Danny held up a rectangular box, pointed and mouthed the word ‘Router’.

  Hal nodded then continued to talk to George. “It was bad. Maybe Elliott is stronger than we knew.”

  “So what did Dean give him?”

  “Normal stuff I suppose.”

  “He didn’t sneak any of that magic potion in him that he gave Frank, did he?”

  “God I hope not, Elliott is already the kinder gentler version of Frank.”

  From behind him, Danny laughed.

  Hal shook his head “Anyhow, how are things?”

  “I’m trying here, Hal, but it’s hard to know what order you do what. Owens said that since we have the provinces we have to go pay them a visit.”

  “Unfortunately. But you can get Owens to help out with that and you run down and check on the training sessions. You can find a schedule of everything in the top right drawer.

  “Hold on,” George said. “Okay, I’m looking. It’s not here.”

  “It has to be there.”

  “No, it’s not. What does it look like?”

  “It should be in a black folder.”

  “There’s no black folder.”

  “There has to be. Just look …” Hal paused when Danny tapped him on the shoulder.

  Danny held out his hand for the phone and took it. “Hey, George its Danny. Hal will call you right back. Answer the phone and look your best.”

  “Danny, what are you doing?”

  “Making this easier.” Danny swiped his finger on the phone. “Hoi-time.”

  “Hoi time?” Hal looked down to see his reflection. “Good God are we doing a video call.”

  “Hoi time,” Danny grinned.

  The word connected appeared and then George’s face. “Oh my God, Hal Slagel you look like shit.”

  “Not all of us had the luxury of shaving this morning.”

  “I can’t believe your father is allowing all this technology.”

  “Yes well, he doesn’t have a choice. Do me a favor George and aim the phone at the right side desk draw.” George did and Hal watched as he opened it. “Ok, it’s not there. Try the next one down.” Hal waited. “Wait. There. It’s not in the folder. Look under the clipboard. I think that’s it sticking out.”

  “It is. Excellent thank you.”

  “No, thank you. I’m sorry it wasn’t where I said. Just follow that and you should be fine. You’ll find a map of town downstairs on the wall and everything is marked.”

  “That will make things easier and Hal, don’t worry about things. I have this. Focus on your friend.”

  “I will. I just wish I could make trips back and forth, but we’re locked down.”

  “Hal, can I talk to you about something?”

  “Sure,” Hal said.

  “Are you alone?”

  Hal looked over his shoulder. “Danny is still here.”

  “Oh, he doesn’t count. For some reason, I believe he is Beginnings’ equivalent to NSA. He’ll find out anyhow.”

  With a ‘cool’, Danny pulled up a chair and sat next to Hal.

  Hal pointed to him. “Well, he’s listening.”

  “Okay as someone who knows about plotting and planning.”

  Danny laughed then held up his hand. “Sorry, that so true.”

  “This person or people that want Frank dead. They are really brazen. I mean there are ways to kill Frank and I never heard of someone trying to kill another and not hide it.”

  “It’s almost as if they want to get caught?” Hal asked.

  “No,” George said. “It’s almost as if they don’t care if they get caught. Everything they have done is sloppy. You’ll find evidence if you look because they aren’t covering their footsteps. Each time he or she attempts to kill Frank, they think they’re gonna succeed. Once they succeed they don’t care who knows.”

  “Do you think they don’t have a reason to live?” Danny asked. “Should we look for people who are depressed?”

  “No.” George shook his head. “Look for people who know technology. This person is leaving and leaving soon as soon as they kill Frank.”

  “We’re on lock down,” Hal said. “They aren’t getting out.”

  “Yeah, they are. Just not through the front gate.”

  “What other way...” Hal exhaled. “The time machine.”

  “It’s someone that knows how to use it,” George said. “Or thinks they do.”

  Danny leaned forward. “Our time team thinks someone is time jumping. They found traces of old time trips.”

  “That can be anything. I had my people use that machine a lot.”

  “To go twelve years pre-plague?” Danny asked.

  “Hell, we went back to watch the Kennedy Assassination.”

  “My God,” Hal exclaimed. “You abused it.”

  “Everyone does or did.”

  “Did you see who shot Kennedy?” Danny asked.

  “I did.”

  “Who?”

  “I’ll tell you what. I’ll reveal that with photos, once you find the would-be killer.”

  “Can I have exclusive publishing rights to the picture and story?” Danny asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Sweet.”

  Hal groaned. “Can we get on with this? Thank you. So, George if we secure the time machine then we have the killer trapped.”

  “And the HG Wells,” George said.

  Danny shook his head. “You guys are forgetting one important thing.”

  Hal looked at him. “That is?”

  “You can secure the front gate, the whole town. You can lock down the time machine. But what if, like Fort and Roy, this person has their own.”

  It was an ‘hmm’ moment and Hal actually made that noise. After a second he said, “Fort was a time cop. Maybe it’s … time… to call him in.”

  “He’s a dick,” Danny said.

  “Be that as it may, he may be able to help out time team.”

  “If one of them isn’t trying to kill Frank,” Danny said. “Just saying.”

  “Thank you for that. George, I’ll let you go and ill check in later.”

  “Talk to you later.”

  Hal shut the connection.

  “Pretty cool, huh, you are the first to use Hoi Time.”

  Hal stood. “We are all gonna regret this rush back to technology.”

  “So you don’t think I should make video calls for everyone.”

  “Heavens no. Leave something buried from the past.”

  “What will people think?” Danny asked.

  “I honestly don’t care.” Hal stood and walked to the door. “Have a good one Danny. Stay out of trouble.”

  “Absolutely.” The moment Hal left Danny opened his phone, connected to Hoibook and searched Frank’s profile. After all, Frank was the celebrity account. Danny even gave him a verified check mark. Once there, Danny wrote a post. “Frank. Hal nixed the idea of video calls and said he didn’t care. Does that suck or what?” he clicked ‘post’ and sat back. “Yeah, that ought to do it.”

  Chapter FIVE

 
; Frank sat, finger to his temple, staring intently, trying with everything he could to break into Elliott’s comatose mind. But he kept hitting nothing but gray. Then he gave up and opted for talking, thinking maybe he could spark something.

  Nothing.

  Elliott wasn’t responding, thinking or dreaming. Then again, he was shot in the head.

  It wasn’t that Frank needed confirmation. He knew who Elliott saw.

  “So I tried,” Frank said to Elliott. “I mean, I asked Dan to come … you know cause he wasn’t at the candle thing with singing. He ran off. Henry … I tried him too, but he got into an argument with Hector. Texting. How do people argue over text? No one can get the real meaning. I tried Josephine... just because. Fucking Josephine.”

  Bleep.

  Frank pulled out his phone. “Fucking Hal. Danny just posted on my Hoibook.” Frank moved his fingers in a reply. “Ha! Hal sucks. Yeah. I tagged him too.” He put the phone away. “So here’s the deal. I know you saw who shot you. You know you saw who shot you. Of course, I know you know that you know who shot you. I don’t need a name. And yeah, if we nab the shooter for you, then we pretty much nab the person trying to kill me. But do we? Do we know for sure that the person who shot you is actually the one trying to kill me? We don’t. Even if it is the same person, one thing you can’t tell me. You can give the name, but you can’t give the why. I need to know the why.” Frank stood up. “So … if you wake up before I find out the why, I need you to pretend you don’t know the Who. Try amnesia for a bit. You got shot in the head, so people will buy it. I’m gonna head out now. I’ll bother you more later.” He moved to the door. Just as Frank approached the door frame, his boots squeaked when he came to an abrupt halt.

  Slowly, he looked over his shoulder, back to Elliott and Frank smiled.

  <><><><>

  Fr. Michael Craven was an East Coast man, who grew up with a guitar in his hand, a raspy powerful singing voice and a dream of being a rock star. Then God kind of called him and he went with that. Even though he served the church, he never stopped playing music and it wasn’t until he was transferred to Sacramento and befriended Danny Hoi that he started incorporating his rock star styling into a Saturday evening Mass.

  Danny Hoi tried to get him a record contract with his rendition of Hail Holy Queen.

  He had been north when the plague hit and never connected with his best friend until he arrived in Beginnings. A good year after living on his own.