Dean’s work zone was the most impressive to Ellen. Upon entrance there was small reception area where Ellen envisioned a cute little secretary once screened Dean’s visitors. Then there was the lab itself. A huge glass wall separated the highly contagious working area from the general working space. Computers and lab equipment were set up neatly everywhere. And even after years of nonattendance, Dean’s lab was more dust and clutter free than Ellen’s bedroom dresser would ever be.
Watching Dean get ready to run a test of his equipment was like the anxiety of waiting for launching space mission. Ellen moved to behind a desk, sat down, and took the break that she knew she would never get once they started on the vials.
“Computer’s on,” Dean announced. “Just let me check for the programs.”
“Then I think I’ll eat,” Ellen said. “Hungry?” she asked as she opened her knapsack and pulled out a smaller sack. “I brought jam sandwiches. Henry?”
“Sure.” Henry held out his hand as Ellen handed him half. “Dean, you want some?”
“No. Thank you. Maybe later.” Dean looked up as he sat down at the computer. He took a nervous breath then began.
“O.K.” Ellen shrugged and took a bite of her sandwich. She blew on the slightly dusty desk. “Dean? Was this your desk?”
Dean peered up. “No, Molly’s.”
Ellen snickered. “Molly’s? Was she some twenty-year old?”
“No, Molly was in her fifties. She was my lab assistant.”
“Was she a good lab assistant?” Ellen asked. “How long did she work with you?”
“Um . . .” Dean thought. “Three years. And yes she was a very good lab assistant.”
“Better than me?” Ellen probed. “Did she know your work better than me?”
Dean hesitated while he worked, then glanced at Ellen with smiling eyes. “No, Ellen. No one knows my work better than you.”
Henry let out a sigh of relief. “Good thing he said that or I’d be mad. Especially after you had to pull it together after he died.
Ellen returned the smile--jam laced--to Dean. “Thanks, Dean. That means a lot.” She reached to a photograph and held it up. “This Molly person had a nice looking family. Were these her children, Dean?”
“Yes,” Dean answered without looking.
“Nice.” Ellen smiled and put it back. “She had three sons. I had three brothers. Henry? Did you talk to any of your family when the plague hit?”
Henry grabbed a chair and sat down. “My parents and my brother. I was fortunate enough to speak to them right before the phones went down. But I was pretty busy at the med station. Somehow, some doctor,” he looked at Dean, “recruited me into helping.”
“You were healthy.” Dean tapped away. “Good, the program is here,” he mumbled, “in case either of you care.”
“We do . . . anyway,” Henry continued on, “that was the last I heard of them. You?”
“I spoke to my mom. I think it was Sunday. She was sick. But my brothers? No, I got so wrapped up in Taylor and Josh. And then people just stumbled onto my property. I never got around to calling. I feel bad now.” Ellen lifted up from the desk a chain of paper clips, it hung four feet long. She snickered. “Dean must have kept Molly very busy.”
“What about your husband?” Henry turned his head to Dean’s laughing. “What’s wrong?”
“I thought you knew Henry. Ellen hated Pete.” Dean said.
“I know that,” Henry said. “Everyone knows that. But she never mentioned him or his family.”
“I never thought to call Pete’s family,” Ellen said as she began to rummage through the desk drawers. “But Pete was one of the first to get sick and die in Ashtonville. Not really Ashtonville but on the way to the med-station where Dean was found.” Ellen grabbed a handful of pencils and stuck them in her knapsack. “Henry, did I tell you Joe shot Pete?”
“Joe shot Pete?” Henry was shocked.
“Joe shot Pete?” Dean’s attention was grabbed. “El, you never told me that.”
“I just found out a little bit ago.” Ellen stuck the last of the office supplies she was stealing into her knapsack. She spoke very nonchalantly. “Yeah, Joe shot him. Shot him in the head.” She closed the last drawer. “Very boring stuff in here.” She moved her chair over to the next desk. “And then Joe just rolled him over into the grass and left him.” She noticed before opening the top drawer of the desk Henry and Dean just staring in silence at her. “What’s the matter?”
Dean shuddered his head quickly. “This doesn’t bother you?”
“No. Why would it? I mean, Joe wouldn’t just shoot him in the head for no reason. He said Pete was suffering.” Ellen shrugged. “Hey Dean, is this your desk?”
“Uh, yeah.” Remembering that he had just listened to Ellen, Dean forewent waiting to hear remorse, and returned to his work.
“Henry, come here. This is Dean’s desk.” She waited until Henry rolled over to her. “Ready?” Ellen opened the top drawer. “Oh, look, Dean. You forgot to mail your bills.”
Henry took the envelopes. “It’s going to affect your credit, Dean.”
“Let’s open them, Henry. Dean, can we open them and see what your bills were?” Taking Dean’s ignoring of her as a ‘yes’, Ellen handed Henry an envelope. “You first.”
“Thanks.” Henry ripped it open. “Check out his phone bill, Ellen. It’s only twenty-two dollars.”
“Oh, that’s disgusting. I never had a phone bill under a hundred.” Ellen lifted the next envelope. “You know, with all my calling of the Slagel clan.” She opened the bill. “It’s a car payment? Dean, I didn’t know you had a car.”
“How did you think I got around Ellen?” Dean asked.
“Didn’t think about it. Where’s your car now, Dean?”
“Ellen,” Dean huffed. “It’s . . . it’s at the airport. Now can I just finish . . .”
“Mine’s still in my driveway. How about yours Henry?”
“At the hospital parking lot. Wow, the things we just didn’t think about. Parked cars.” Henry smiled. “All right, next one.” He took pleasure in the envelope. “Now see, now this surprises me about Dean. Look El, a cable bill. Basic cable. Dean, Dean, Dean.”
“What?” Dean gazed up from the second computer to Henry shaking his head. “What is wrong now?”
“Basic cable,” Henry said, disappointed. “What a waste of money.”
“I never watched television except occasionally for the news.” Dean said.
“Then why have cable?” Henry tossed the bill in the trash. “Last one, El. You do the honors.”
“His VISA bill.” Excitedly she held it up then tore into it and then she shrieked. “Oh, this is horrible. Look at this balance. Seventy-three dollars and twenty-two cents. Dean why was your balance that low? And look Henry a check for the entire amount.”
Rolling his eyes again–a habit he was getting used to around them–Dean looked from his work. “I never used it except when I visited my Dad once a month.”
“Oh this is obscene Henry, this is really obscene. One credit card, no balance.” Ellen was just shocked by that. “Me, personally, I was such the shopping queen. I don’t think I would even know what a zero balance was. One time my husband got me this credit card, a platinum one. The credit limit was forty-five thousand dollars.
Henry whistled, “Forty-five thousand? Your husband must have been rich. Why did you work.?
“I liked to work. And yeah, Pete made the bucks. That’s probably why I never got together with Frank. The shopper in me knew he couldn’t afford my habits. Dean, you probably could have afforded my habits.
“Unfortunately.” Dean worked on
“Anyhow . . .” Ellen tossed the bill aside. “Guess what my balance was when the world died? Twenty-eight thousand dollars. Talk about one hell of a way to get out of paying your debts.” She snapped to attention at Dean who had clicked so loudly on a key.
“How in the world did you charge that much?” Dean asked.
“Don’t know,” Ellen shrugged. “It was an addiction. Most of it was gifts. A large chunk was the motorcycle I bought Robbie.”
“What?” Dean chuckled in disbelief as he stood up. “Why would you buy Robbie Slagel a bike?”
“Yeah. Why?” Henry asked in a complaining manner. “Robbie was a dog. Nasty. I hated him.”
“Now, see.” Ellen kicked back. “You two didn’t know the Robbie I did. He was funny. He just always had this way of making you feel good. I would have done anything for him because Robbie would have done anything for anyone.” In remembrance awe, she picked at her sandwich then looked up to their scoffing. “I’m serious. The Robbie that walked through our gates a year ago was a product of the world gone bad.”
Dean shook his head. “You believe what you want. I know people. Robbie was just a bad seed. He played you and you bought it. No, wait, you bought him whatever he wanted.”
Ellen ignored him.
“Now,” Dean continued, “I hate to break up this little old world celebration of memories, but it’s time to start doing what we came here for. Let’s find that virus.”
Henry stood from his seat and started to follow Dean. “Speaking of memories, do you remember how to use all this stuff?”
Dean only paused in his head to do a reaction he had done repeatedly all day--roll his eyes and shake his head.
^^^^
For as many times as Joe shuddered and wanted to pretend Frank wasn’t really his son, times like the one he was having overshadowed those moments. Frank’s thoughts. Written down in that straight, no slant handwriting of Frank’s. Always squared off and neat. Joe dreaded the thought of reading what Frank wrote. But after he did, Joe was genuinely impressed.
Fact was fact. There were some things that Frank was just not meant to be good at. Basic math. Reading books without skipping the parts that had no dialogue or pictures. Or fitting into small places. That was some of them. But when it came to war and the military strategy, Frank turned into some sort of Einstein. Blunt, precise with every angle viewed. And Frank was viewing into the Society at full force. With the information pulled from the cryo-lab computers, Frank deducted how many Society soldiers remained and how many more may have been made. Frank’s number was frighteningly high and depicted a budding army. An army that Beginnings was powerless against as far as manpower went. He even went as far as to list areas of the country that George and the society could be using as a base set up. All Frank wanted to do was somehow try to come up with a way to be prepared.
And even though he drove Joe all but crazy with the numerous times he misspelled the name ‘Dean’. Frank made up for it with his letter’s final observation and question.
--If the society are the ones that cause the virus of our future, then it’s even more clear. They don’t want destruction. They just want Beginnings. But why? Why do they want us? Food, land, industry? No. There’s a whole country out there to be planted and run again. Why want something that is no more than a speck of dust on a map? Because there is something here so valuable they cannot replace. And that something is our answer. If we can determine what it is and find it, then we, as small as we are, will have the means to defeat the Society. Because we will have the upper hand.--
To Joe it was a very good point taken. And Frank’s thoughts on paper started the wheels in Joe’s mind turning just a little bit stronger.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The wax from the candle rolled down the side and over Ellen’s finger tips. She played with it as she stared into the flickering flame. Remnants of a jar brought dinner were spread out on the table set up in the reception are of Dean’s old lab.
“Many,” Ellen said softly, leaning into the table where the three of them sat. “Pete was really good about being romantic. I had to give it to him on that. But not as romantic as Dean.” Ellen shifted her eyes to him. “Even if it was only sitting together on a couch, doing nothing, it was special.”
Dean smiled a thank you to her.
“Not Frank?” Henry asked.
Ellen snickered. “Frank? I guess he could be. He never wants to be. And you have to remember, Frank and I never really were an honest couple until we got married here. So it’s hard to compare him. What about you Henry? Romantic?”
“I wanted to be.” Henry ran his fork across his empty plate, playing with the remaining food particles. “I thought I was with my fiancée.”
Dean immediately sat up. “I didn’t know you were engaged?”
“Oh, yeah. For three years,” Henry said.
So sad, Ellen peered at him. “She died in the plague, huh?”
Henry shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. She probably did.” Henry’s speech slowed down. “Her . . . her husband, probably kids.”
Ellen sat straight up. “She married someone else?”
“Oh, yeah. I think it was…” Henry looked up to the ceiling in thought. “…three weeks after we broke up.” He noticed the surprised looks he got. “I hate talking about it. She left me at the altar. Literally.”
Dean cringed, “She never showed for the wedding?”
“Oh, no Dean. She showed. Weren’t you listening?” Henry asked. “She left me at the altar. Left. Middle of the vows, Amy gets this awkward look like this . . .” Henry crinkled his face. “I thought it was gas. And then she says, ‘you know what, I changed my mind’. Off she went.”
Dean’s gasp met Ellen’s. “Oh, my God.” He was so shocked. “Now I don’t feel so bad for not having anyone in the old world. Of course . . .” Dean chuckled, “no one really wanted me. I was a little high and mighty. Arrogant.”
“No,” Henry said sounding so convincing.
“Yeah,” Dean nodded. “I didn’t mean to but I tended to put people…” He closed his eyes. “I still am, huh?”
Henry shook his head, “Nah. You’re a pretty nice guy when you want to be.”
“Correction,” Ellen held up a finger. “Dean’s a nice guy to people he wants to be. But if he doesn’t like you,” Ellen whistled, “Dean’s a dick.” She laughed. “I remember how your dad used to just humble you so much.”
Henry laughed too. “William was a funny guy. He had such a big heart. Do you . . . do you take after your mother, Dean?”
Dean rolled his eyes. Just when he was about to say something, he heard the buzzer sound from the lab. “First batch is done.”
“Yeah.” Ellen stood up when Dean did. “I guess it’s time to get back to work. Henry?”
“You know what.” Henry stretched. “I’m gonna catch some sleep instead of annoying Dean. Do you mind? I haven’t slept in over twenty-four hours.”
Dean closed his eyes in gratefulness. “You rest Henry.” He headed to the lab.
“See you later,” Ellen said following Dean. She looked back to Henry who gathered the plates into a pile, and then he plopped on the couch.
“We’ll just read this batch of results,” Dean said as he walked to his computer.
“Hopefully we’ll . . .” Ellen slowed down when she passed Dean’s desk. They weren’t there before. “Dean?” She lifted up the set of keys. “Did you pull these out?’
Almost embarrassed, Dean lowered his head. “Um, yeah. My house keys. I found them in my desk. I just, I just pulled them out.”
“Any particular reason?” Ellen asked.
“No. Reminiscing.” Dean sat before the computer. “Let’s work.”
“Work.” Ellen set down the keys and joined him.
^^^^
Frank’s whistle was short and sharp. Not loud, but loud enough to be the call-in as he stood outside of the east entrance tunnel. He listened for the tromping boots of his three men as they made it back.
John Matoose was the first to approach. “Nothing. Clear.”
“Me either,” Steve, another of Frank’s security guys, said.
Frank looked about the blackened and wooded area. “I didn’t see anything either. Not even footprints.”
“Frank,” Gr
eg spoke up, “I’m not nuts. When I came down on my rounds, I heard movement.”
“I’m sure you did.” Frank nodded. “SUT, savage, even an animal. I’m not gonna take any chances. John, let’s set a man back a little inside the entrance in this tunnel tonight. Added security.”
“Leo?” John asked.
“That’ll work,” Frank said. “Even if we have wildlife out there, if it sets off the motions we’ll be running amuck though these tunnels trying to see what broke in.”
“Sounds good,” John agreed.
“Keep me posted if he’s sees anything. I’m heading home. Greg, good job.” After getting a nod from Greg, Frank started to leave. The east entrance was hidden in a brush. Frank likened it to the Bat Cave. Though nature protected it and motion detectors watched it, it lacked something every other entrance into Beginnings had. Perimeter beams. It couldn’t. If ever for a reason Beginnings was locked down and under siege, the east tunnel was a quick escape. But just like it was an easy out, it was also an easy in. And because of that, if movement was even suspected in that area, Frank took no chances.
^^^^
The beams from the two flashlights barely made an illuminating dent in the dense overgrown brush of the housing plan on the base. Dean led the way, using memory, and looking up, counting the houses he could barely see.
Ellen adjusted her knapsack, tapping Dean on the shoulder. “Are you sure Henry is not going to be mad at us?”
“Positive El. You heard him. He had been up over twenty-four hours. He’ll still be sleeping when we get back. I just . . . I just need to come here. Especially after striking out with that first batch of tests. Also, you know, when I left, I never dreamt I wouldn’t be back.” After letting out a discovery breath, Dean grabbed Ellen’s hand. “Through here.” He slipped through the brush with her. A door laid three feet ahead. The concrete porch was what stopped the trees from growing any further. “This is it.”
Ellen peeked at the door. “Oh look, Dean, you have mail. Can I?”
“Be my guest.” He dangled keys, holding his flashlight under his arm and aiming it on the knob.
The Big Ten: The First Ten Books of the Beginnings Series Page 169