The Strain

by Jacqueline Druga

  “That’s a bit harsh. At least we know your father didn’t take the jeep.”

  “True and while he may claiming that he is gainfully unemployed, at least Frank is actively searching for him.”

  “That is good news. What exactly is he doing?”

  “He wasn’t specific,” Hal said, then stopped walking. “What’s going on with the Joe Board?”

  Elliott looked over to the group surrounding the Joe Board. “Maybe Danny posted about the virus.”

  “I can’t see Danny posting it on the announcement board.” Hal tilted his head. “Are they removing something from the board?”

  “It looks it.”

  Hal studied the people as they opened the cover to the board, reached in and pulled out a paper, staring at it, as they walked away. Just as he approached, Jenny spotted him.

  “Hal, oh, Hal, I am so sorry.” She gave him a quick hug, clutching a white piece of paper to her chest. “Don’t you worry. The search is on. We will find your father.”

  “Thank you,” Hal replied.

  Jenny sniffled. “It just doesn’t seem to end for you Slagels doesn’t.”

  “It is never ending.”

  Elliott leaned toward Hal, whispering, “Frank effort?”

  “I bet.”

  Hal made his way closer to the board, getting words of encouragement as people passed him. Telling him, “He will be found.’ and ‘Have faith, Hal. And if I find him, I don’t want the reward. Nice of you to offer though.”

  Muttering a confused, “what’, Hal made his way to the Joe Board.

  He froze and hadn’t a clue on how to react. It wasn’t the big word, ‘Lost’ or even the words, ‘One hundred Danny Dollars for information leading to his whereabouts, courtesy of Hal,’ on the flyer.

  It was the picture of ‘Artists age Progression drawing’ that had Hal turned to Elliott. “I’m killing him.”

  FIVE

  When it came to memories, Joe didn’t need a time machine to visit Robbie. Thinking of him, remembering him, was right there in his mind. Sometimes the memories were buried, other times they were so forefront, there was no stopping their emergence.

  When Joe opted not to leave Beginnings, but rather stay in the trailer up by the quantum lab, he was slammed with memories of Robbie. It wasn’t the first time that Joe had hidden in that trailer, he stayed there when he faked his death, buried the future Joe, and vowed to stay hidden until the Great War had passed and Frank made the decision they had to make. But like Joe, Robbie couldn’t let his father go. He just couldn’t. He believed and sensed that his father wasn’t gone. He held onto that. Even going as far as digging up the grave. He did so until he found Joe in the trailer. There was one big difference between Robbie and Joe, Joe knew his son was gone, and the only way to get a taste of being near him, to hold him, to see him, and speak to him, was to go back in time.

  His trips to designated memories were limited. He would have to ration them like they used to ration meat and like with the meat, savor every bite

  For now, all he had was those memories. They would need to get him through the day, and the rest of his life, even if morally he could go back in time to try to stop Robbie from going to the future, and getting that bacterial virus, he couldn’t save his son. To do that, Joe would have to go back, not a few weeks or even years, but maybe decades. Back to a time when Robbie was a kid and try to fix his heart. If that was even possible.

  Joe thought a lot about what he was doing up there at the trailer. Was it right that he stayed away with all that was going on? Even if he stayed back in Beginnings full force, was he even in the right frame of mind to deal with everything? Perhaps the drama and everything was what Joe needed to move forward. He tried to deal with it before and he failed. Although it was still early after Robbie’s death, Joe lashed out, becoming someone he didn’t want to be. A man who before was constantly in control of his emotions, but when he lost Robbie he seemed to lose that ability. Now he just needed the time to get it back together.

  He found a few supplies in that trailer, which surprised him. He thought it would be empty. He expected to go in there and clean up, remove dust, get rid of any musty smell. Surprisingly that wasn’t the case. Everything was spotless, Joe figured it must have been sealed airtight somehow. Also, it was probably Joe’s imagination, but he swore it smelled clean as well. That wasn’t possible, no one ever went into the trailer.

  Joe had a lot of thinking to do. Walking always helped with that and it was a good day for a walk. He was in the perfect area, no one but him and Jason came out that area. Joe would take advantage of that, enjoy the fresh air, and enjoy his memories. He wanted to be out of sight from everyone and he was confident, no one would see him or bother him. That, with everything that had happened, was the one thing he was sure of.

  <><><><>

  In the security training field, Frank placed Hank a proper distance from the targets at the shooting range.

  “Now I don’t have to tell you how to shoot, do I?” Frank asked.

  “No.”

  Frank set down a duffle bag, opened it and handed Hank a gun.

  “This is a strange weapon,” Hank examined it.

  “It’s a custom made non-lethal weapon. Looks like a gun, shoots like one, but doesn’t kill like one.”

  “Does it maim?”

  “Ha!” Frank charged out a single laugh. “Good word. It shouldn’t maim.” He ejected the clip. “This are like BBs or Pellets. They are usually filled with a dye to look like blood. These are practice ones, they have gel in them. So be spot on with aiming, they’re heavy.”

  “Why do you have fake blood bullets? Why not use the real thing?” Hank asked.

  “We play a lot of war games.”

  “So we will not be shooting the beast?” Hank asked, and glanced over at Chaka.

  “Oh, no, we won’t shoot him. He’s my friend.”

  “In my time he is the enemy. Not as advanced as he is though.”

  “Chaka is from the way, way, way out there future where they are like the apes in Planet of the Apes.”

  “There is a planet of apes?”

  “Um, yeah. Anyhow, get comfortable with that. We’ll start soon.”

  “And I’ll be shooting the targets?” Hank pointed.

  “No. I’ll explain.” Frank shoulder the duffle bag, stepped back and made his way to Chaka who stood. Arms crossed, just staring.

  “What?” Frank asked, dropping the bag at Chaka’s feet.

  “It …” Chaka pointed to Hank.

  “He,” Frank corrected.

  “It,” Chaka repeated. “Is an abomination.”

  “I know, right? Fuckin Dean, but we have to do what’s best now.”

  “I agree. We should kill it,” Chaka said.

  “Man, he said the same thing about you.”

  “Of course he would. He is an abomination. We need to destroy it before our maker tosses fire and brimstone from the sky to punish us all.”

  “Nah, we’re good. Dean’s done worse.”

  “And you’ve not punished him yet.”

  “Oh, yeah, he was even blind. Nothing stops him.”

  Chaka gasped. “Surely you have to see signs that he is the anti-Sasa? I am now frightened of Dean.

  Frank laughed. “Of Dean.” He then cleared his throat. “Okay, well, he does have some tricks up his sleeve that are fighting.”

  “And does magic as well. Anti-Sasa, you will see.”

  “What is this Anti-Sasa? Is it some sort of dip you don’t like?”

  “Sasa is the son of God.”

  Frank nodded slowly. “Ah, so we call the son of God Christ. So Dean is the Anti-Christ or rather Anti-Sasa.”

  “I believe so.”

  “Oh, we have to do something about that. First …. Where is he?” Frank looked around.

  “He’s there.” Chaka pointed to Hank.

  “Not him.”

  “Who?”

  “Henry.”

 
“Henry the whining man.”

  Frank snapped his finger. “That’s the one. He is important to this training session.”

  “I didn’t think he was that skilled.”

  “For this, yeah. He’s also bringing someone and… here they are.”

  The jeep pulled up and stopped. Henry got out, and lifted Marcus from the back seat, setting the LEP child on the ground.

  Chaka gasped. He quickly looked at Marcus then at Frank. “What a handsome boy. I am full of glee to see another Hubra.”

  “Yeah, that’s Marcus. He isn’t as advanced as you. He only says a few words and grunts. And between you and me they don’t sound much like words. My kid Joey understands him. Oh my God, they’re like you and me.”

  “You culture knows very little about the Hubra. I’m wondering …. If … maybe the Cacaline was not removed. By what you describe, it sounds like the children of the ACR movement. They will never learn. Medicine isn’t evil.”

  “Okay, I’m lost. Caca what?”

  “Cacaline. There are two large cacaline glands in the back of the throat. They secrete a substance that breaks down food because young Hubra do not know how to use their teeth properly. They also help in battling early sickness.”

  “Oh, sort of like a super tonsil.”

  “Perhaps,” Chaka said. “They are not beneficial as the child grows. When removed, enough air flow can make it to the vocal chords so they can speak. Our scientists discovered hundreds of years earlier that the glands were why early Hubra didn’t talk. But those damn ACR. Anti-Cacaline removal Hubra, they refuse to have the glands removed and the child suffers.”

  “Whoa, sounds like movements we had before the world went to shit for us. I’m pretty sure he didn’t have them removed. Not because we didn’t want to. We didn’t know.”

  “Poor Hubra boy,” Chaka shook his head. “Has so much to say, but cannot get it out.”

  “You think?”

  “Without a doubt.”

  “We’ll get them out. Not me personally. Someone will. Not saying that I wouldn’t take them out if needed.” Frank waved Henry and Marcus over.

  Marcus moved slowly, staring at Chaka.

  “Sorry, we’re so late, Frank.” Henry said. “I had to take care of that for you.”

  “I appreciate it,” Frank said. “Hey, Marcus, thanks for coming up.”

  Marcs only stared at Chaka. “Dada?”

  “Um ….” Frank fluttered his lips. “Possibly, could be. I don’t know.”

  Chaka crouched down to be at Marcus’ level. “You are strong. What a good looking lad.” He rested his hand on Marcus’ head. “What is this garment he wears?”

  “Jeans and a striped shirt,” Frank said. “Standard fucking issue for kids that are a little large.”

  Marcus looked confused when Chaka spoke.

  “He doesn’t know my language.” Chaka stood up. “I will work harder to learn yours,”

  Henry asked. “Are you learning it?”

  “He wants to know if you’re learning it already,” Frank said.

  “Uh, Frank,” Henry said. “He has that ear piece...”

  “True. But not everyone is as quick as me picking up another language.”

  “Are you learning his language, Frank?” Henry asked. “That’s pretty cool.”

  “I am. I could probably take off the ear piece and understand.”

  Chaka laughed. “That is because you have this strange ability to read minds. It’s not the language you know it is the thoughts you read.”

  “Ha! No fucking way. I have you and your language in my fucking ear, I’m learning it.”

  “Prove it. Say something.”

  “I bet you were the fucking Hal,” Frank said.

  “I’m sorry what?” Chaka asked.

  “Boy, I wish I knew what he was saying,” Henry said.

  “Hal,” Frank replied. “You were one of four brothers. Bet you were most like my brother Hal.”

  “I’m not the Frank.”

  “No one is.”

  “You are very arrogant.”

  “Ha!” Frank pointed. “Next thing you know, you’ll be saying Good God.”

  “Fine. I am more like your brother Hal.”

  “I knew it.”

  “And you changed the subject,” Chaka said. “I told you to prove you know my language. Say something.”

  Without hesitation, Frank spewed out. “Ana co baka che na ma tu wana.”

  Chaka folded his arms.

  “Oh my God,” Henry said. “That was really good. Did he do it, Chaka? Did he speak your language?”

  Chaka nodded. Frank spoke it correctly. Chaka wasn’t sure what Frank intended to say, but he was pretty certain, it wasn’t ‘Your mother has three legs on her head’ which was what came out.

  “Okay.” Frank clapped his hands. “Let’s get started. Henry, you know what to do. Take Marcus behind the targets and have him run half speed back and forth. Tell him to dart and dodge.”

  “Got it.” Henry took Marcus hand. “Let’s go Marcus, you are gonna help train again.”

  Marcus grunted.

  Chaka watch them walk away. “Where do they go?”

  “Behind the targets.”

  Frank headed back toward Hank.

  “Frank, behind the targets. Is that smart?” Chaka asked. “If Hank misses, they could be injured.”

  “Eh, they don’t hurt much. Besides, Marcus can take it.”

  Chaka shrieked.

  Frank stopped and rubbed his ear.

  “Frank!”

  “What? He moves fast. Hank may or may not hit him.”

  Another shriek. “He is a child!”

  “With tough skin. He’s fine.”

  “You cannot use a child, Hubra or Primal for target practice.”

  “They aren’t real bullets,” Frank argued.

  “He is still a child.”

  “But I need a moving target. Anyone can hit a stationary one.”

  “Marcus … is a child. I cannot stand by and allow this torture of a living being.”

  “Fine. Fine.” Frank huffed. “We’ll have him aim for Henry. Will that work?’

  “Yes. That will work. Thank you.”

  “Man, you are so much like Hal.” Frank shook his head and headed toward Hank. He wanted to tell him where to aim. He wasn’t sure how Henry would take it, but Henry would be fine. Frank would just tell him it was an accident and Hank was a horrible shot.

  SIX

  Elliott crinkled his nose as he stared down to his phone and the after seconds of ending the phone call. “What is it?” Hal asked?

  “Strange,” Elliott said. “Seems we have a tip on your father’s location.”

  “Tip?” How ask.

  “A tip.” Elliott nodded. “It came in on the tip line.”

  Jimmy asked. “There really is a tip line? For real?”

  “For real,” Elliott said. “Apparently, get this, the anonymous tip, said they recognized him from the age progression sketch.”

  “Oh dear God,” Hal exclaimed.

  “I guess Frank plastering the posters everywhere, helped.” Elliott had his smile.

  “At least he is doing something while,” Hal used air quotes. “Gainfully unemployed.”

  Jimmy asked. “What do you mean?”

  “Oh.” Hal tossed out his hand. “Our brother is running about, refusing to work because he said he is unemployed.”

  “Well, Dad did fire him.”

  Hal grunted. “Yes, I was there.”

  “Again, Captain, unemployed or not, his posters worked. The wonderful life like, age progressed drawing of your father—"

  “Don’t… Don’t try to give credit to the artist sketches,” Hal said with annoyance.

  “Wait,” Jimmy asked. “There is really an age progression artist’s interpretation sketch of our missing father? That is so funny. It’s hysterical.”

  “No,” Hal barked. “It is not funny. Not funny at all. It’s ridiculou
s. Everyone in this town is ridiculous.” He paused to take a breath. “Perhaps I should go and speak to him.”

  “No,” Jimmy said. “I’ll go. He butts heads with you because he thinks you’re arrogant, and right now he hates Frank.”

  “He’s right,” Elliott said.

  “Which part?” Hal asked. “I certainly hope you’re not speaking about the arrogance.”

  Elliott cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t dream of saying that, Captain.”

  “Fine,” Hal sighed and looked at Jimmy. “You have a point. Perhaps you can reason with our father to quit being childish and come home and do his work.”

  Jimmy would not use the word ‘childish’ when speaking to his father, even if he felt that way. He would take the calm approach, one that wouldn’t be used by Hal or Frank. Elliott told him where Joe was spotted, and Jimmy headed that way. He had never been there nor did he knew the area existed. He found it interesting. Large, open, unused. The trailer was unlocked, and he went inside.

  You knew right away, the tip was correct. Joe had been there. Not only was the place clean, there was a bag of snacks on the table, and Joe’s bag was placed by the edge of the couch.

  Jimmy said down and waited for his father to return.

  It wasn’t long. The front door opened, Joe stepped inside with a look of shock.

  “What the hell are you doing here? Joe asked, calmly.

  “We need to talk.”

  “I get it,” Jimmy said, hands folded as he sat on the couch across from his father. “I really get it. I do. I have been in your shoes. Many of us have. You want to run, but there’s nowhere far enough to run from the pain. You want to scream, but you can’t scream loud enough. I lost a child before the plague, and I woke up, after being put in some cryo sleep I didn’t ask for, to find out I lost the rest of everything I loved. And I’ll tell you, it didn’t make a damn bit of difference. In fact it was harder after the plague because I had no one. No one. You do.”

  “I know.” Joe breathed in and then exhaled loudly. “It’s Robbie.”

  “And I grieve my brother. I envy all of you for having the years with him that I didn’t. And this Frank shit, it has to stop.”

  Joe raised his eyes. “I know.”