“That’s what thought you said.” Joe put his finger to his ear rubbing it. “I thought perhaps I heard you wrong.” Giving Dean the benefit of the doubt, Joe continued on calmly. “Now let me understand correctly. Is it that you can’t do it. Or you just won’t do it.”
“Oh, I can do it. I won’t do it, it’s wrong.” Dean argued adamantly.
“Dean, this so wrong, but what you did for the military wasn’t?”
“It’s different, Joe.” Dean began to ramble on, not realizing that his every excuse would make Joe’s blood boil and anger rise. “This is a different situation, this is real. What I did for the military was different from what you are asking . . .”
“BULLSHIT!” Joe, red faced leaned into Dean closer. “Bullshit. Don’t you play Mr. High and mighty, morally wrong with me, son. Don’t you do it. I know exactly what you did for the U.S. Army, and so do you.”
“What are you talking about Joe?” Dean kept his stare straight ahead. Fussing in his chair, feeling the heat of Joe’s breath smack against his neck.
Joe stood behind Dean, in a one word whisper, he said it all. “Riacon.”
Dean swallowed dramatically and closed his eyes.
“Riacon.” Joe stood upright and walked in front of him. “Fifteen years ago, some whiz kid they enlisted straight from medical school invented it. The Army’s bright boy. The army’s newest chemical weapon, Riacon. It burned you from the inside out. Liquefying all internal organs, boiling the blood, singeing out the lungs, slowly . . .” Joe looked closer at Dean. “Painfully all the way out to the skins surface. It was so deadly that it even scared the U.S. Army. They buried the Nevada desert two hundred feet below the surface. Remember that? Remember . . . your invention?”
With a face full of sadness, Dean lowered his head. “How did you know about Riacon?”
“I was in the CIA for over twenty-years. We saw the demo videos on it. I knew as soon as you told me your name at that med station, that you weren’t some pissy young doctor playing God. Your name, was forever imbedded in my brain as some sort of monster.” Joe leaned back on his desk.
“That’s why I don’t want you to make me do this. I worked so hard to put that part of my life behind me. What I do now is good work, I don’t plan to kill people anymore.”
“Make an exception this time, Dean. You did it for the United States because it was your country. You did it as a means of protection. Well low and behold.” Joe held out his hands. “Beginnings is your country. Beginnings is your home. It’s time to protect it, and you’re the only one who can do it right. So get off your high horse.”
Dean slumped far down into his chair. He brought his hand up to his head to lean against. Staring at Joe like a small child, not wanting to do his chores. “I’ll do this. I’ll come up with something for you. Just please make sure I don’t lose the respect I worked so hard for.”
“Won’t happen. How can people lose respect for a man who’d fight for them.” Joe stood up. “They won’t. Because, they like me, know this is something we have to do.”
^^^^
The black plastic case George peered into look like the case he carried his darts in. The hard black cover perched open as George stared at the contents inside the red pseudo-velvet interior. Four small vials all containing a clear substance. Two syringes. The vials were unmarked, yet George knew exactly what was in them. The drug he was going to use on Joe.
Joe was home in Beginnings, of that George was certain. Perhaps already making the plans to rescue Frank and Ellen, come and get he and Miguel. George knew that impending rescue wouldn’t be far away, so he planned on it. Everything of vital importance would be moved near immediately, to the lowest floors of the compound. They were secure. When Beginnings made their rush in, and they would, barreling forth weapons high. The scientist would go down there too. George would make his escape out, telling Beginnings that most of the scientists had left the compound. A few guards held them captive there, but Miguel was such the tragic victim in it all. Beginnings would believe him. Why would they doubt him. According to them, George was one of their own.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
August 18
“It’s time to get up!”
“Ow.” Ellen felt the rude awakening, hard stinging slap to her backside as she slept on her stomach. “You are such an asshole Frank.”
“Daylight’s breaking, we have to move. Let’s go.” Frank continued to gather up the gear.
“I can’t move. My legs hurt.” Ellen pulled the sleeping bag over her head.
“Yeah, but that’ll stop as soon as you move.”
“You’re being mean.” Her words were muffled. “Are we being Frank the Sergeant again?”
“Let’s go El.” Frank pulled the sleeping bag off of her. “We don’t have time to waste. We have to move. We’ve been pretty lucky not running into any of those stupid soldiers. I’d like to keep it that way.”
“All right, all right.” Ellen sat up grabbing to her back. “I can’t wait to get home and get in my bed.” Achy, she lifted herself up. “Let me go down to the stream to wash my face.” Ellen picked up what she needed, taking one more look at perky Frank. He was rearing to go, and she could barely move. The walking from the previous two days was beginning to catch up to her. As she slowly walked the twenty feet to the stream, she dreaded with every painful step, the mileage she would have to put in on this day.
^^^^
Johnny opened the door to the cryo-lab with his backside. His arms full of equipment, he could carry more than just about anyone. “This is the last of it.”
“Just set it down on the counter, John. Thanks.” Dean tried to make heads or tails out of his newest working quarters. It would be difficult, he was so used to working on most things above.
He stood staring at everything they had brought down, everything that would play a vital role in the project he had to undertake. In a sense, Dean felt guilty. Guilty because it took very little thought, and he already knew what direction he was going to go with it. In a way it made him wonder if he was truly the monster that Joe had once depicted him as being. What kind of person did that make him to be able to think of something so deadly in such a short amount of time. That programmed part of his brain, that section he turned off so many years ago, kicked back, almost automatically in full gear.
But Dean knew, he wouldn’t be able to go fully ahead with it--no matter how much he thought of it--until his mind was clearer. And right now, his mind was still too clouded up with Ellen.
^^^^
“Please, Frank.” Ellen spoke in a begging manner. “Please.”
“Nope.” Frank kept walking, trying not to hear her.
“Please. I saw it when we were at that hilltop. It should be coming into view any moment.”
“No, El, No. It’s stupid. I’m not doing it.”
“What is it going to hurt?” She asked.
“Ellen, I’m not going to stop at K-Mart.”
“Frank, fifteen minutes, I won’t be any longer than fifteen minutes. You haven’t let me stop and see one thing on this whole road trip.”
“This is not a vacation. We aren’t sightseeing.” Frank shook his head over and over as she pleaded.
“You are such a dick.” Ellen trotted to be in front of him, she walked backwards as she spoke. “Please. This is like a really special gift, that right now, only you can give to me. Please.”
Frank stopped walking.“ All right . . . but . . . one small bag and you can’t bitch about anything for ten miles.”
“Deal.” She sealed it with a kiss then turned to walk next to him. “Whoa.” She slowed down, just ahead of them on the roadway lay a long line of cars.
“The ones that didn’t quite make it.” Frank peeked in a car that contained the skeletal remains of four people. He looked above the tops of the vehicles. “Just like I thought. A med station.”
“Where?” Ellen stood on tip toes, still unable to see what Frank did. She moved a little furt
her and Ellen finally saw it. The med station. Army trucks made a wall, dead soldiers still holding their posts. Just beyond it, the tops of tents could be seen, cots sprawled out everywhere. And the victims that never acquired a bed, sprawled out on the roadway as if a new blanket of grass. The med station covered the road and extended into the parking lot of the K-Mart Department store.
It was hard to walk, so many things, people blocked their way. Frank had a harder time than Ellen, she was more agile. Of course Frank really didn’t care if he stepped on anyone. And he did. It was hard to avoid. The bones crunched and crumbled into dust as his heavy boat set down on it.
“Oh man, Frank.” Ellen commented as she stepped around. “How pitiful.”
“What is El, all these people?”
“No.” Ellen took a moment to giggle. “All these people dying in a K-Mart parking lot. It must say a lot about their care. Was the K-mart parking lot the generic section of medical attention?”
“El, it’s not funny.”
“Yes it is. Can you hear it?” Ellen cupped her hand over her mouth. “Attention K-mart Plague victims. Now in house wares we have a flashing blue light special on Morphine . . .”
“El!” Frank really wanted to tell her have a little compassion. “Listen, don’t expect there to be a lot of stuff in this store. The fronts all busted. It probably was looted by survivors already.”
“What I want to get, the survivors didn’t take.” Ellen ran past Frank. “I’m getting what we don’t have in Beginnings.” After carefully stepping over the broken glass, she darted into the department store, without waiting on her husband.
Frank followed right in after her, but she was long gone from his view. “El!” He called out. “El where are you?” After hearing her faint voice, he followed it to the back.
“Oh, this is so great. Look, Frank. Underwear in plastic bags.” She held up three of them speaking with child-like enthusiasm. “And a bra. Oh this is great.” She shoved it in the knapsack she apparently snatched from a nearby rack. “Real underwear too, Frank.”
Frank stared down at his watch. “I’m timing this.” As his eyes rose he caught glimpse of the redness of it. The dusty, yet shiny little red outfit. “Hey, El. What about this little number.” He raised one eyebrow as he showed it to her.
“Put it down Frank. I am not wasting room in my bag for a red ‘G’ string. ”
Frank shrugged, then went to put it back down. He stopped, saw she wasn’t looking, then shoved it in his own duffle bag. She’d appreciate it later.
“Oh, Frank check this out!” Ellen called out excited from another section of the store.
“What is she doing, running? . . . EL, there isn’t much stuff left, what are you finding?”
“Lipstick.” She jumped out in front of him. “What do you think?” She smacked her lips together. “I’m just going to take some. A whole bunch. I got this for Andrea. What do you think?”
“I think you have eight minutes left.”
“Oh, I haven’t been here that long. Liar. Jenny Matoose is going to eat her heart out when I come back with lipstick. Ha! And I’m just gonna . . . shampoo!” She saw the health and beauty aids. “Frank, it’s been so long since I had real shampoo.” Ellen stood before the shelf of dusty shampoo bottles. She smiled in awe at them. “Look at them Frank.” She snatched up a bottle and proceed to the next aisle. “Real dental floss. Real.” She tossed one in her sack, then reached for another. “I’m getting one for Dean, he’s so fussy about his teeth.”
“Don’t be getting Dean a souvenir.” Frank reached in her bag to take it out.
“Hey!” Ellen smacked his hand. “My shopping trip . . . my trip.” She smacked his hand again. “Back off. I’m carrying this bag, I can stick in it what I want.”
“Then unless you want to wear those big clothes again, I suggest you throw something in that bag to wear. I’m not stopping again.”
“O.K.” Ellen didn’t even care that he spoke with attitude. It didn’t faze her one bit. Though the store was dirty, half torn apart and dismal, it was still a place that she hadn’t seen in so long. She appreciated every minute. It was part of her old world that she missed. The part that allowed her to go and get what she needed without having to have it issued to her. Without having to have it rationed. Ellen ran madly through the store, grabbing things, little thing for all of the originals. But most of all she filled her sack with stuff for herself. She forgot about everything, all her fears, her worries, in that brief fifteen minutes in the store. Ellen was in her glory.
^^^^
The progress in the hanger was encouraging. Things were looking better, Henry told Joe, and it wouldn’t be long. But still, the news that in less than twenty-four hours they would be out searching for Frank and Ellen, did not make Joe feel better.
He sat in Ellen’s small office, sitting in her chair, running his hands over the smoothness of her desk. Containment was quiet, almost too quiet. All the survivors felt for Ellen, fearful of what she would run into out there. Joe stared at the badly drawn pictures Ellen had hanging on the wall. Most of them from Alexandra and Billy, one was drawn by Frank on behalf of Brian. Her desktop was neat. Joe chuckled as he looked what Ellen tried to hide underneath her pencil holder. Etched in the wooden desktop was a heart, inside of it, Frank loves Ellen. Only his son would do something so juvenile, and ruin a good piece of furniture in the process. What Joe wouldn’t give at that moment to bitch at Frank for carving up Ellen’s desk. And at Ellen for letting him do it. What Joe wouldn’t give at that moment to have his family together.
Trying to remain strong was a tedious task for Joe. When it came to his kids, no matter how old, Joe worried. No matter how confident Joe felt in Frank’s ability to keep him and Ellen safe, there was still that chance that something could go wrong. That something could happen in the wasted time Beginnings spent repairing engines that should have never been torn apart had he’d not given the visitors cart blanc.
“Joseph?” Andrea called softly as she walked into the office. She saw Joe staring out, his face covered by his hands. She felt his sadness the moment she moved closer to the room. “Need a friend right now? I know I can use one.”
“I am sorry, Andrea.” Joe turned himself to face her as she stood above him. “I’m sorry Miguel didn’t come back with us.”
“I expected that.”Andrea reached her hand down, running it across the side of his face. “We knew before you, that there was trouble. As soon as we got Ellen’s distress signal, I knew that my husband, not matter what, would ensure Ellen got out of there with Frank. Even if it meant him staying behind. And that’s probably exactly what happened.”
Joe grabbed her hand. “We’ll try our best to bring him home.”
“I know you will. I’m hoping for the best, and expecting the worst.”
“I know that rationing.” He gripped tighter. “I’m having a hard time here Andrea. A real hard time. I sent her out there.” Joe closed his eyes. “I willingly let her go. My spy.” Joe gave a short exhale as he opened his eyes to a caring Andrea. “Now, she’s out there. Her and Frank are running from crazed militants. I pray to God Frank brings her back safe. But, if something happens to her I’ll never, never forgive myself. What kind of father sends his kid into a potentially dangerous situation?”
“You’re a great father, Joe Slagel. You didn’t know it was dangerous, I certainly didn’t suspect it.” Andrea rubbed her hands gently over his. “It’s going to be fine, it really is.”
“Thank you.” He stood up, lifting Andrea to her feet, tightly he embraced her, his friend. “I just want them home right now.”
“You’ll get them here.” She kissed his cheek. “You’ll get them all here.”
^^^^
“El, are you done playing yet? It’s getting late. We have to get some sleep.” Frank sat on a rock, his rifle between his legs, watching Ellen.
“Right Frank.” Ellen looked to the sky. “It’s not even dark yet.” A single sleeping b
ag was opened all the way--their camping equivalent to a double bed--Ellen, sat upon it. The entire contents of her K-Mart knapsack flowered before her. She sat Indian style center of it. She wore a pair of her new underwear complete with the price tag still sticking out. “Look how great my stuff is. I can’t wait to wear my new bra.”
“Speaking of which. How is your breast? You haven’t let me see if it’s getting better.”
“And I won’t. It’s healing, badly, but healing.”
“What do you mean, you won’t.” Frank up and walked over to her.
“Frank your stepping on my stuff. Move your feet.” Ellen sighed and began to move the contents back in her bag. “I can see. I can’t do this when your around.”
“Why are you changing the subject.” Frank knelt down. “Is the wound infected?”
“No.” Ellen closed her knapsack. “It’s healing.”
“I’d feel better if you just let me take a look.” He reached for her shirt, fearful that she was hiding something. It dawned on him she said hadn’t taken off her shirt in front of him since the first night after he rescued her. His hand touched the bottom of her clothing.
“Frank don’t!” She snapped and removed his hand. “Don’t.” She stood up and carried her knapsack with her, she set it with the other packed gear.
“El, this isn’t like you. Are you going to hide your body from me? Your husband. How long? Till it heals? Till it looks right?”
“It’ll never look right. I’m not just hiding it from you. I’m hiding it from me. It turns my stomach to see it.” Ellen closed her eyes and took in a silent moment. “Can we change the subject?”
“Yes we can. What do you want to change it too?”
“My stuff. Let me show you the great souvenir I got Jenny Matoose.” Ellen scooted quickly to the knapsack and pulled out a book, tossing it to Frank.
The Big Ten: The First Ten Books of the Beginnings Series Page 116