The Inner Struggle: Beginnings Series Book 7

by Jacqueline Druga

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  JULY 1

  He had braided his hair, and done it well. Joe supposed it was to keep it out of his face. Out beyond the walls of Beginnings, unless you have the means, you can’t just cut it off. Though Joe pegged this new survivor as a little old to be wearing dread locks, he seemed nice enough, friendly, and quiet.

  Joe watched as the thin black man fiddled with his hands nervously, tapping forefinger to forefinger in a slow rhythm as they drove to receiving. Joe didn’t need a guard with him to escort this one. Three people in Beginnings had the unmistakable instinct when it came to survivors, Robbie, Ellen, and Joe. Joe’s instinct told him this man who wandered through the field of the underdeveloped section, was not a threat.

  The survivor perked up. His head went back and forth as he rode through town and past the people that wandered the streets. He merely mumbled two words as he sat back again after it was from his view. “So clean.”

  “Beginnings.” Joe stated as he tossed his cigarette out.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “To receiving. There’s a process all newcomers have to go through. If you want to stay, you have to go through it too.”

  “Civilization again.”

  Joe watched the man reach down to the bag he brought. “What are you getting?” Joe asked, knowing there was nothing dangerous in that bag. There couldn’t be. The two guards had checked that thoroughly before returning it to the man.

  “My glasses. I want to see this place better.” They were kind of bent and scratched as the man put them on.

  “Your only pair, I take?”

  “Yes.” He sniffled and looked around. “Beautiful.”

  “As I said, Beginnings. After we get you through processing and cleaned up, I’ll have Jason give you an eye test. We can make you a new pair of glasses, you know but only two styles here.” Joe pulled up to his office in the line of utility buildings. “Half square and round. Better than none.”

  “Who’s Jason?” He asked as if he expected to know someone there.

  “One of the doctors here. He’s working in containment, the place you’ll go after processing.” Joe led him to his office and opened the door. “Right now we have some paper work to complete on you. The physical will have to wait until you get to containment since I haven’t a physician to spare to come up here.” Joe unhooked the radio from his belt. “We weren’t expecting you. You came in through an area that stopped being popular for stragglers. What’s your name?” Joe walked to the file cabinet.

  “Malcolm. I can be called Mel.” He sat down.

  “Mind if I ask your age, Mel?” He pulled out the paper work taking it to his desk.

  “Forty-eight I think.” He closed one eye while answering.

  Joe wrote this down, setting the radio on his desk. “What did you do, if you recall, in the world before it ended.”

  “I was a…um… cable installer.”

  “No shit?” Joe smiled. “Good with communications are you?”

  “Yes, I worked for the phone company before I got laid off.”

  “Even better. Mel, tell me, how did you find the area you walked into?

  “I could see your community from the mountain I was on.”

  “Really? Did you live there?”

  “For a while. It seemed safe. It seems safer here.”

  “Yeah well it’s a hard world out there now. Excuse me.” Joe picked up the radio, bringing it to his mouth. “Frank, I have the new one in my office. Feel like swinging by to take him to containment on your way to town.”

  “No,” Frank quipped back, a hiss followed.

  “Tough. Get your ass over here.”

  “Aw. Fuck. All right. I have to talk to Godrichson anyhow.”

  Joe shook his head. “Then again, it’s a hard world in here as well.”

  “Yes, but safer than out there. I watched for a while. You don’t have a problem with them. In fact the whole area is free of them.”

  “Who?” Joe asked.

  “Those soldiers. They show up everywhere.”

  “Describe them.”

  Mel shook his head. “Soldiers, armed. They wear a patch on their arm. It’s red and gold.”

  “A ‘C’ and ‘S’ intertwined?”

  “That’s them.”

  “SUTs,” Joe whispered. “They were where you come from?”

  “Yes. I pretty much ran from them after they took out the town I lived in, a small town such as this.”

  “And . . .that happens to be the next question. Where is or was home?”

  “A small town called Willow Creek.”

  Joe thought about that as he wrote it down. “Never heard of it, what state is that in?”

  “State? Providence. I’m from Canada.”

  The pencil dropped from Joe’s hand. It was one thing that Malcolm said he ran from the SUTs he claimed were all over the place, it was another when he said this happened in Canada. “Dear God.” Joe leaned back in his chair. “How far are they now?”

  <><><><>

  Robbie’s shadow cast over Greg who read a book he had found while he, like everyone else, picked through what was left of the small town they stopped in. “Check this out, Greg.”

  Greg peered up. “What it is?”

  “A diamond bracelet. Nice too.”

  “Why do you care about a diamond bracelet? It isn’t any use for metals to melt down.”

  “Of course not. It’s for Ellen.” Robbie sat next to Greg. “I always bring her something back.”

  “And you have, Robbie, from just about every place we stopped.”

  “I can’t help it. It’s the guy thing in me to spoil a woman.” He reached for the book. “Gone With the Wind?” He laughed. “Romance, Greg?”

  “No, a good book Robbie.”

  “For a woman. Of course, I hate to admit this but I liked the movie. El and I sat and watched it as a marathon one night.”

  “Why didn’t you ever end up with her?” Greg asked.

  “I’m not Frank.” Robbie shrugged. “However, we did sleep together before we got to Beginnings. Pissed Frank off big time.”

  “I bet.”

  “So anyway, I get her something. If I don’t, she’ll ask.” Arching up some, he tossed the bracelet in his pocket. “And tomorrow, after twelve, we can head on home.”

  “Home.” Greg closed his book. “I really miss my son.”

  “He misses you too and you’ll see him tomorrow. Dean says if no one is sick, we can come home.” He stood up. “And you know what, Greg? No one will be sick at all.”

  “I agree, Robbie.” Greg smiled and watched Robbie bop along back to the others, possibly to show off that annoyingly shiny bracelet. But at that moment, Greg couldn’t return to his reading. His thoughts drifted off and instead of basking in the sun, Greg was basking in the thought of going home.

  <><><><>

  Johnny chuckled as he pulled out slides from the stand. “Dr. Dean, this is really stupid.”

  “No it’s not.” Dean flipped the switch on a microscope. “Does this one work Johnny?”

  “I don’t know, check.” He handed Dean a slide.

  Dean took it and placed it on the stand. He adjusted the focus, squinting and lifting his head. It took a while but then he saw the sample. “Works.” Dean handed the slide back to Johnny. “You are making sure you check those off my list?”

  “This is really dumb, Dr. Dean. Why am I gathering slide samples from our collection?”

  “Ellen needs to learn.” Dean walked to the computer and lifted a stack of papers.

  “Ellen does know these, Dean. She knows what a red blood cell looks like. You’re gonna insult her taking over this stuff and teaching her like she was a student.”

  “She is.” Dean grabbed a folder opening it. “Johnny the tests you ran yesterday aren’t marked down in here.”

  “Yes, they are.” Johnny walked to him and peered over Dean’s shoulder. “Right there.” He pointed. “Geez,
Dr. Dean., what, are you blind?” Johnny laughed and stepped back.

  Dean said nothing. He just tossed the folder into the box he was preparing to take over Ellen’s.

  “This is really stupid.” Johnny checked out a slide then placed it in the rack Dean had waiting.

  “So you’ve said. Please make sure there are no repeat samples.”

  “She’s gonna get pissed. I’m telling you. You go over there to work with her and you pull these out to test her, she’ll hit you.”

  “John,” Dean stopped him, “Ellen asked to do this.”

  “She did?”

  “Yes.” Dean told him.

  “Why?”

  “Why? Um . . . If I tell you, you can’t tell anyone.”

  “Sure, I promise.”

  “Ellen is suffering from major postpartum psychosis. It’s inhibiting her ability to remember certain aspects of her life and she gets delusional as well.”

  “You’re joking.” Johnny laughed. “You not joking? Can that happen?”

  “Oh sure. It’s very common and wears off in a few days. I discovered it when I happened to say ‘hemoglobin’ and she said ‘what’s that?’”

  “Shit.”

  Dean nodded, and turned away from Johnny. “She even thinks, get this, that she is starting to look like Jenny Matoose.”

  “I didn’t notice anything odd about her yesterday.”

  “What can I say? It comes and goes so to pacify her, we’re doing a refresher course this afternoon.”

  “Can I help?”

  “Yes,” Dean said, “by finishing off those slides and stop saying every fifteen seconds that it’s stupid.”

  “You got it.”

  Dean watched Johnny--more serious this time--return to work. It dawned on him as he did that Johnny may just have more of his father’s qualities than Dean had originally thought. With all that was going on with Dean, that would work in his favor.

  <><><><>

  It was so quiet in the nursery when Henry walked in. Little Nick’s incubator wasn’t as predominant without the fluorescent light shining down upon it. The door shutting echoed across the room and Henry swore at that moment Nick heard it. His little arms jolted up. Looking around first and seeing Melissa sitting in the other room, Henry slowly pulled up a chair next to the incubator.

  “Hey.” He tapped his forefinger on the side. “It’s me again. I know, you’re probably thinking I was just here and I’m being the pest but that was with Mommy and I wanted to see you alone. Look.” Henry pulled from his back pocket what looked like a tiny teddy bear, brown fabric sewn together in a bear shape. “I made this for you. It can keep you company when you’re by yourself. I’ll give it to Melissa to put in there with you.” Henry set it on top of the incubator then scooted the chair as close as he could.

  “I wanted to tell you something,” He spoke, whispering. “I know you don’t understand, but at least I know I said it. I just wanted to explain to you why you won’t be seeing me around anymore. I’m sort of not allowed and with the way things are, it’s probably for the best I don’t get in the way. Not that I don’t want to be around you, I do. I really do. And I will be around, just not like I want to be. You see there are these things called laws and you have to have them in order to keep everything civil. You’ll learn this when you get older. But according to stupid Beginnings’ law, I’m not your father. Hell, I never thought I’d be staring down at something I helped to create. That was a surprise. Trust me. So Frank, you know that big mean looking guy that’s always here, he’s gonna be raising you. He’s not a bad guy. He’s a good dad, Nick. Just . . . just when he raises you, try not to act like him too much. Try not to swear as much and definitely don’t spit like he does.” Henry cringed and shook his head. “If you don’t like when he throws you in camouflage pants like he does with Joey, you tell him. O.K.? Nick, know that just because I’m not forefront, it doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I do love you. I’m just gonna be kinda in the background, watching out for you. I’ll always watch out for you.” Henry winked and stood up. “I’ll see you, Nick.”

  Sadly, Henry picked up the tiny teddy bear he made and looked one more time down to the baby. He walked from that incubator and to the other room where Melissa was. He hoped when he handed her his gift to his child that she would put it in with him. Henry needed it to be there. If he wasn’t going to be around Nick, he just wanted something of him to be there instead.

  <><><><>

  “Dean!”

  Startled and at loss of all motor control., Dean dropped the folders when Frank blasted his name across the lab. “God, Frank.” He turned his head to look at him, “must you make an entrance every single time?”

  “Yes. But . . .” Frank stepped back. “I’ll try it again, because I’m in a good mood.”

  “This ought to be good.” Dean shook his head and began to pick up his folders.

  “Dean!”

  Again they fell and Dean spun to Frank who stood there laughing. “What is it, Frank?”

  “One word. Listen to this.” Frank cleared his throat. “Hypnosis.”

  “Good one, Frank, and a big word too. My, you are expanding that vocabulary of yours.”

  “Shut the fuck up, Dean. It’s my newest brilliant idea.”

  “I have news for you, Frank.” Dean picked up his papers. “Someone thought of that concept years ago. Nice try.”

  “Now why do you have to be all sarcastic and shit? I come in here, being civilized and trying to help you so you can help me.”

  “Whoa,” Dean said with a laugh, “back up. Help me?”

  “Yep. Help you to remember what you saw that night that you say you keep dreaming about.”

  Dean scratched his head taking a second to figure out what Frank meant. “You mean the Moses attack?”

  “Bingo.”

  “How are you gonna help me help you.”

  “Fuck, Dean. Weren’t you listening? Hypnosis.”

  “Hypnosis.”

  “Yeah, it works in the movies all the time. We get someone to hypnotize you to jar that weak memory of yours. I mean if it wasn’t weak you wouldn’t be so afraid to remember what you only want to dream about.”

  “What if it isn’t a memory Frank? What if it is just a dream?”

  “It’s not,” Frank stated with such assurance.

  “So you think hypnotizing me will do it?” Dean hid his sarcasm.

  “Oh sure.”

  “Who Frank? Who is going to hypnotize me?”

  “At first I thought I would . . .”

  Dean shrieked in laughter. “Sorry, go on.”

  “So fuckin rude. But then I thought, hey there are other intelligent people in this community. So I went to Godrichson. He’s gonna do it.”

  “Godrichson helps to screw up time. No way is he messing with my subconscious. No way.”

  “Dean, don’t be such a wuss.” Frank moved closer. “It has to be done.”

  “Does he know what he’s doing?” Dean asked.

  “He said he’ll learn. I think he said that. I’m not sure if he said he knows or he’ll learn.”

  “No.” Dean stated strongly. “Forget it”

  “Dean, you have to.”

  “No.” Dean walked to his box. “I’m leaving, I have to go. Forget it Frank. I’m not being hypnotized.”

  “Pansy.”

  Dean, carrying his box, stopped midway across the lab. “What is wrong with you? If he succeeds in hypnotizing me, that could be dangerous.”

  “Why are you being such a baby about this? I need you to remember what you saw that night.”

  “It’s not safe Frank. It’s the mind you’re messing with,” Dean told him. “If you think it’s so safe, you do it first.”

  “I don’t have anything I need to remember. But if it will make you do it, sure I’ll do it.”

  Dean tilted his head. “You don’t have a problem being hypnotized by someone who might not know what they’re doing?”

  F
rank raised his hands and let them drop. “Nope.”

  “No, of course you don’t. You have nothing to lose if Godrichson screws up your mind.” Dean started walking again.

  “Dean.” Frank hurried to him speaking very seriously. “Will you think about it? I need this information and I’ll be the guinea pig if it will make you feel better. I will.”

  “I’ll tell you what, Frank, I’ll think about it. But right now I have to go. I have a tight schedule. All right? I’ll think about it.”

  “That’s all I wanted to hear. Thanks.” Letting Dean continue on, Frank figured since he was at the clinic, he might as well go and see Nick.

  He headed to the nursery, opened the door, and stopped when he saw Melissa reaching into the incubator.

  She titled her head with a smile, halting in her reach. “Frank, perfect timing.”

  “That’s me.” Frank shut the door and moved closer. “Why?”

  “Andrea says it’s time to take Nick out of the incubator a few times a day to be held. Want the honors?”

  “Are you serious?” Frank grinned. “Yeah.” He took his revolver out of the harness and set it down on a table as he watched Melissa wrap the baby in a blanket and pick him up.

  “I know I don’t have to tell you how to hold him.”

  “No.” Frank awaited the moment and then he felt the smallness of Nick in his arms. “Oh my God.” He grinned as he gasped with excitement. “Oh my God, is he tiny.” Frank cradled the baby closer to his chest and placed his lips on Nick’s forehead. “Look how small, Melissa.”

  “But beautiful.”

  “Isn’t he though.” Frank brought his lips to the baby again being careful not to let is goatee brush against the tender infant skin. “How long can I hold him?”

  “Andrea says he can be out one of every three hours. Would you like to sit?” She unfolded her arms and pulled a chair closer to Frank. “Just let me know when you have to go.”

  “Thanks.” As Frank lowered himself, baby in his arms, his eyes peered at the incubator. “Melissa.”

  “Yes?” She stopped and looked back.