CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
“Yes Jason?” Joe opened his front door. “It’s kind of late.”
“I know. I really need to speak to you.” Jason spoke upbeat.
“Sure, come in. If it’s about Dean’s work. I’m not in the mood to hear bitching. Ellen is trying her hand at it.”
“Oh, good.” Jason stepped inside. “But she’s not what we need. She can help but she’s not what we need.”
“What’s up? You look kind of nervous.”
“Excited is more like it. Can we sit?” He motioned his hand to Joe’s couch.
“Sure.” Joe walked over and sat down.
Jason wiped his sweaty hands and sat down next to Joe. “I’ve been giving a lot of thought to this Dean situation. Now I’ve been working hard to find out where he was going. So has Andrea and so has Johnny. But the truth is Beginnings suffered a major setback when it lost Dr. Hayes.”
“You’re not telling me anything I don’t know.”
“To be blunt Joe. If something happens, medically big, we’re screwed. I don’t have the knowledge to do anything about it. That’s not my field. Ellen, she knows a lot more than she realizes, but she’s not going to be ready to do anything about it completely for a while. She has to train herself and that could take years. We don’t have years.”
Joe huffed loudly. “Are you here to make me miserable because you are doing one heck of a job.” He reached to the table for a cigarette. “I know how badly we need Dean. I know how bad things will get without him around.”
“It was a shame, Joe, what happened.”
Joe raised his eyebrows. He noticed that perhaps Jason looked happy. “Are you well?”
“Very much so thank you. As I was saying, I’ve been working. You know, fate sometimes deals a cruel hand. There’s nothing we can do about it but take the slap in the face and move on.”
“You’re right.” Joe glanced down to the picture of Robbie that sat on his table.
“And sometimes someone cheats fate. And that isn’t fair. It just isn’t fair.” Jason rattled on. “But don’t you think Joe, in instances where someone cheated, that if you could redo it all, take it all back, you should be able to?”
“Jason.” Joe slapped his hand on his knee. “Take it back? Sure we all wish we could take it back, but we can’t. Now where in the hell are you going with this conversation? You’re bringing up things right now I don’t want to deal with.”
“You have to.” Jason smiled. “I came here for a reason tonight. A very good reason.” He handed Joe a folded sheet of paper, the letter the rabbit brought. “Take a guess, Joe. I don’t know a . . .” Jason bobbed his head side by side. “Psychic, clairvoyant, uh, futuristic guess, on where that note came.”
After a brief glance down to the note, Joe raised his eyes to Jason.
^^^^
“Hand me that blue journal, Frank.” Ellen continuously stared at the computer screen.
“This one?” Frank held it up.
“Yeah.” She glanced at it and opened it. “I appreciate you coming here with me. I know this is boring for you.”
“Nah, boring would be sitting with Henry. I enjoy watching you.”
Ellen turned a page in the journal then clicked on a key. “Hand me the red pen.”
Frank moved it to her reach then kissed her on the cheek. He slid his stool over. “You know what you’re working on?”
“I know what I’m looking at. Right now I’m going through every single remedy he did. Thanks for asking Henry to sit with the kids.”
“Sure.” Frank slid his elbow on the counter, leaning his head on it. “He was there anyhow. Always. Watching old soap opera tapes none-the-less.”
Ellen tilted her head and smiled.
“El?” Frank touched her lips. “Was that a smile?”
“A brief one, yes.” She returned to the computer. “Aw, Dean. Damn it. We did this one, where are the notes? No.” She scribbled on the journal then tapped on the keyboard. “Dean, you wrote this backwards. Shit.”
Frank was happy, very happy, Ellen was working and complaining.
“Excuse me.” Joe called out, knocking on the doorway. “Frank. Can I have a moment with your wife?”
“Sure.” Frank folded his arms.
“Alone.” Joe motioned his head backwards.
“All right.” He whined, kissed Ellen and walked away. “I’ll be back.”
Ellen reached her hand back missing Frank’s as he left. Within seconds she felt Joe sit next to her.
“So, Ellen, how’s it going?” Joe asked.
“It’s going.” She turned her body to face him.
“I’m glad to see you doing this.”
“It’s tough, Joe. I’m taking it one step at a time. If I can help make sure everything Dean did was not in vain, then I’m doing my part to keep him alive.”
“How are you doing?” Joe questioned with heart.
“I’m doing. I’m taking that one step at a time also.” She reached forward grabbing his hand. “It’s so hard. Coming in here like this. Wishing and needing to see him. I can’t believe he’s gone, Joe. I can’t believe it.”
“I know.” Joe’s hand reached to her face. “It’ll get easier.”
“I don’t see how. I loved him, Joe. Truly loved him. I never realized until he was gone, how big of a part of my life he was. I guess that goes that way with everything.”
“It does.”
“So did you come here to check up on me?”
“Nah.” Joe shook his head. “I didn’t come to check up on you. I came, in fact, to make you a very happy woman.”
“Joe.” Ellen closed her eyes. “I love you very much. And as my father, I know you want to just help me through this.”
“I do. I want to take it all away for you.” Very assuredly Joe spoke. “I’m going to.”
Almost wanting to cry, Ellen laughed emotionally. “I wish you could. I wish to God you could. But the truth is, Joe, you came here to make me very happy. You can’t, no one can. Nothing . . . can. The only thing that will take it all away, the only thing that will stop my heart from breaking, is if Dean walked through that door. And you and I both know that will never happen.”
Joe’s hand, the hand she found comfort in, slid in a father’s grip to her face. He let his forefinger wipe the tear that ran slowly down her cheek. Scooting closer to her, he brushed his lips against her nose, then moved back an inch. “Sweetheart.” He smiled at her, he smiled widely. “That’s not necessarily so.”
^^^^
THE RIPPLE
BOOK FIVE
Stories are told in many ways
From beginnings to end as with most
But in order to know THE RIPPLE
I give you the epilogue first
EPILOGUE
January 29
BEGINNINGS, MONTANA
Joe Slagel’s hands were covered in sores, sores that tried to heal but had their difficulty. Soon, he prayed, they would be well on their way to doing so. His hands reached into a basin, dipping the stained cloth into the warm water, he wrung out the excess moisture and began to lift it. Above the water’s rim he raised it, stopping before his cloth’s destination to wipe his forehead with the back of his hand. His forehead ached and still carried a body temperature well above normal. The water from the cloth dripped down his face that never once before began to show its fifty-nine years, but was beginning to now. Taking a deep breath he laid the cloth, warm and soothing, on the cheek of Dr. Andrea Winters. Her trembling fevered body did not even feel the cloth. Her brown eyes rolled slightly back into her head, never knowing Joe was standing over her trying to break her fever, trying to clean the blisters that formed upon her dark-completed skin.
Joe sniffed through his nose. It was hard to do. The congestion was still there. The too deep of a breath tickled his throat and Joe turned his head away from Andrea, coughing loudly, deep, chesty and rumbling.
“Pap.” Johnny Slagel who headed with a q
uickness into the clinic room filled with moaning patients, stopped and slowed his towering thin body. “You’re not supposed to be out of bed yet.” Wearing his bloodied and stained blue hospital scrubs, Johnny walked to his grandfather reaching for the basin of water.
“John.” Joe tried to scold in his weakened voice. He merely caused himself to cough again. “I’ll be fine. I’m getting better. You four need my help.”
“Three.” Johnny’s hand released the tin basin. “I can’t find Godrichson. If he can move and he’s not sick, he should be here.” Johnny, sounding so frustrated, ran his hand across the top of his short black hair.
“Jason is taking care of something.” Joe finished wiping off Andrea. “He’ll be back.”
“What can be more important than now?”
“Trust me, John.” Joe lifted the blanket slowly over Andrea, picked up the basin and moved to the next patient. “Besides . . . he’s feeling it now.”
Johnny swallowed harshly. “I . . . I didn’t know.” Swinging his head slowly, he merely lifted his sad eyes to his grandfather. “You were one of the lucky ones, You made it through.”
“Am I lucky, John? Are any of us who are watching this again, lucky?”
“No.” Clenching his fist, Johnny pressed it down onto the blanket of the bed he stood next to. “I uh, I have to go, Pap. I have people to help.”
“It’s almost over, Johnny. Almost.”
“Again.” Turning away from his grandfather, Johnny felt it go through him. He heard a single scream. A short cry out, deep and heart filled.
“No!” Ellen’s voice was heard coming from down the hall.
Johnny flung his head back, eyes tightly closed. He opened them slowly to look at his grandfather whose head had dropped. Holding back his every emotion, his stare met Joe’s, and they both knew the cause of Ellen’s scream. “Dad.” Johnny’s heart sunk and he raced from the room.
Four doors down, as he entered the room, his fears were confirmed. Ellen’s arched body hovered over a bed, her arms clinging and her body shaking.
“El.” Johnny called to her his voice cracking.
“No.” She shook her head. “Not Frank.” Hard she pressed her lips to those of her husband, who lay still; his final battle of heroism had come to an end.
“El.” Johnny’s hand reached out.
Ellen lifted her head, running her hand down Frank Slagel’s face. A face she had stared into for over half her life. “I’m done.” She took a deep breath. “I can’t take it anymore. I’m done.”
“We need you.” Johnny moved to her with passion.
“I’m finished, John.” Ellen spoke in monotone, walking past Johnny and stopping at Henry Kusakari as he too bolted in the room.
Henry’s expression said it all when he saw Frank. Holding back the bangs of his longish, coal black hair, he watched Ellen move slowly by him. “El.”
Ellen kept walking.
“Johnny?” Henry questioned.
Johnny lifted a sheet over his father’s body. “He thought he could beat this, Henry.”
“So did I.” Looking once at the door, Henry spun to Johnny. “I have to go after her.” As Henry stepped into the hall, he saw her. Ellen was opening the double glass doors to the clinic, somberly walking out. Rushing down the corridor that was lined up with beds, Henry followed her out. “Ellen,” He called to her. She kept on walking. “El, wait.”
Ellen turned around, her face was streaked with tears.
“Where are you going?” Henry, out of breath moved to her. “We need you in there and you know it.”
“I can’t do it Henry. The last person I love that could die just did.” She shook her head. “I did this before. So did you. I won’t do it again.”
“But everyone in there is your family. This isn’t like the old world. This is Beginnings. You know every single person in there suffering. You have to help too, El. They need us.”
“There’s nothing we can do Henry and you know it. Nothing. The ones that will die will just go. And the ones that are coming out of it, the very few, will make it on their own.” Ellen stepped back from him, her hand, shaking so badly reached up and covered her eyes. “I just want to . . . I just . . .” She began to cry. “Want to quit.”
“I won’t let you.” Henry took hold of her pulling Ellen tightly to him. “I won’t let you give up, El.” His hand cradled her head against his chest. “I promised Frank. I promised him I’d take care of you and Billy, and I will.”
“Billy,” Ellen cried her son’s name as she buried herself in Henry’s chest. “At least I still have Billy.”
“Yeah, and a few more.” Henry pulled back some placing his hands firmly on her saddened face. “We’ll get through this and we will go on. We will.” He hunched down some to be at her eye level. “Just work with me through this just a little bit more. Help me El, don’t quit on me now.” Gently he laid his lips on hers. “I need you. Johnny needs you.”
“What went wrong, Henry? What?”
“I wish I knew.” He pulled her back into him, into his arms. He had to hide his hurt and desperation. Henry had to be strong. But it was hard for him. Especially as he stood there, holding his friend in his arms, staring at the now silent and near dead streets of Beginnings.
Ellen shivered long and loudly, releasing a final exasperation of her tears as she pulled back from Henry. “Come on.”
“You’re sure?” Henry asked and grabbed her hand.
Ellen nodded and she began to walk back to the clinic with him. “Yeah, let’s do this.”
Moving slowly with Ellen, Henry stopped when he saw Jason making his clinic approach. He moved more sluggishly than when Henry last seen him. “Jason.” Henry called out to him as he seemed to be in his own daze. “Jason, we’ve been looking for you.”
Jason Godrichson’s even thinner body swerved some as he reached for the handle of the clinic doors. So weakened, he faced Henry and Ellen who approached him.
“Jason.” Henry saw his face, the blisters that were starting to form, blisters that weren’t there three hours ago when he saw him last. The scolding voice Henry was going to use disappeared when he knew Jason was sick. “We needed you here. Things were bad. You shouldn’t have been out. Where have you been?”
Opening his mouth to speak, Jason coughed loudly, and his body shook as he did. Grabbing his chest and catching his breath, Jason, with wobbling eyes looked to Henry. “Stopping this.”
NOT WITHOUT LOSS
CHAPTER ONE
Fourteen Months Earlier - November 15
PRESENT DAY BEGINNINGS
The noise of disgust was loud when it emanated from Joe Slagel after he sipped his first taste of coffee. There was something about the coffee beans in Beginnings they couldn’t get right. A quick shiver of his head and a shrug, Joe prepared himself and took another sip. It was better. It always was after the first step of torture. Carrying the cup carefully he moved to his dining room table and pulled out his chair. His morning routine, coffee and whatever he could grab to read. Lifting his half square glasses and placing them on, Joe grabbed what he believed to be the most interesting piece of literature ever to cross his eyes.
A letter.
Bringing his coffee to his lips again, he spread out the white sheet of paper, smoothing the folds with his hands. It was a letter that should have frightened him beyond belief. It didn’t. The inspiration the information gave Joe filled him with a spark of energy he had lost. Though it was a foreshadowing of bad, it was an invitation to good.
At first he skimmed the letter with disbelief when Jason Godrichson handed it to him the night before. Then Joe looked at it every chance he had. Reading it, thinking and planning. With his coffee, and a clearer mind, Joe read the letter again. It was a letter Dr. Jason Godrichson had sent to himself.
--As I sit here writing this, I go against everything I have ever told myself I wouldn’t do. On the bottom of this letter, you will find the missing formula you need to complete the Regres
sionator time travel process, the missing pieces that probably seems so far away. I am using the last of my power supply to send this to you. I do this because I sit here in a weakened and dying state. My body is failing me, just like so many others in Beginnings. A virus has struck us. One that is not only strong but fatal as well. It kills eighty-percent of those it strikes. It has taken most of the lives in Beginnings. I’ve not much time left, and I send this letter back to myself in hopes that what I am facing can be stopped. We believe that the virus may have somehow begun through the vials in the cryo-lab case. And because all of the printed information about these vials was alien to me, we were ill-prepared. Whatever it was, seeped forth causing this destruction when a malfunction in the cooling unit of the case went unnoticed. The antidote, the answer to it all, was definitely in the case because Henry, Johnny, and Ellen, the ones who worked with the vials, are the only ones who show immunity. But now everything in that case has gone bad. There is only one way to stop this, one man that can stop this. You must take the formula and complete the Regressionator. You must go against all of your time beliefs and bring back Doctor Dean Hayes. If he can’t stop this from happening, he can beat it once it starts. He is our, your, the future of Beginnings, only hope. It can be done. Herein in the arrival of this note, is your proof--
The Big Ten: The First Ten Books of the Beginnings Series Page 157