“Or use animals. How about a cow?” Frank added.
Dean gave a thinking look.
Joe cringed. “No. Even if we do that, who’s gonna raise these wild children?
Frank gave a wave out of his hand. “Hell with raising them. Pen them up, make them animals, then train them using shock therapy.”
“Frank,” Joe barked. “They’re humans for Christ sake.”
“Killer babies,” Frank corrected.
“Humans,” Joe reiterated. “Whether they eat live flesh or not, they are humans. Creating a lab army has to be out.”
Frank’s finger snapped as he stared blankly out. “What about using one already made?” He saw they didn’t understand what he meant. “Come on, you don’t know? Our SUTs? Henry what do you think?”
“Frank, they’re programmed already for the society.” Henry replied.
“So.” Frank said. “We reprogram them. Set up a SUT camp where we work with them. Robbie and I can train them. We have smart people here. Isn’t there anyone that can figure out how to reprogram these things? This is perfect. They’re all different ages. They don’t know any better . . .”
Joe held up his hand. “Frank you’re getting ahead of yourself. I like the way you’re thinking. Make them our first line of defense. But I really don’t think that can be done either.”
Henry smiled. “Maybe it can, Joe. We have that microchip from the SUT Frank shot. Dean, could you give it to me? Let me work on it. See what I can do. I’m great with computers.”
Dean tossed his hands up. “Sure. But then what, Henry? Who are we going to implant it in to see if it works?”
Frank answered. “Another SUT. We’re bound to run into one especially with that Cleveland trip next week. We pick one up, drug him. Can you keep him alive Dean without that thing in his brain? That way if we remove his, Henry has two chips in case he screws up.”
Dean’s finger lifted in a thinking manner. “This could work. And it’s pretty good coming from you.”
“I’m the man,” Frank said. “We’ll build our own army yet even if we have to cheat to do . . .”
Robbie knocked once and stuck his head in the door. “Dean, your Barbie camper is parked.”
“My what?” Dean stood up puzzled then it hit him. “Oh my Mobile. Did you guys get it up there?”
“Yep.” Robbie nodded. “Let’s go, I brought the jeep. I know you’ve been waiting for it.”
“Thanks, Robbie.” Dean moved to the door. “I’ll uh . . . see you guys later.” Excited, he followed Robbie out.
Henry soon stood also. “I have some things to take care of too. Frank, make sure Dean gets that to me?”
“What?” Frank asked.
“Never mind. I’ll talk to Dean.” Henry left.
“About . . .” The door shut. “What?” Frank stood up and then snapped his finger. “Oh.” He closed his eyes. “I remember now. O.K.”
“He’s gone Frank.” Joe spoke.
“I know, I was thinking out loud. I understand myself better that way. I’m heading out too. I want to finish the Cleveland Run notes.” Frank started to leave.
Joe just nodded slowly watching his son walk to the door. He was grateful the meeting was over.
“Oh Dad? One more thing.”
“What’s that, Frank?” Joe asked.
“Isn’t it good to have Robbie here? Especially the Robbie we remember.” With a smile, Frank walked out.
“What?” Joe threw his hands in the air then saw his door open again and Frank poked his head in.
“Dad? Forget I said that. Thanks.” The door shut again.
^^^^
Dean was filled with excitement when he jumped from the jeep to see the huge CDC mobile parked nearby Jason’s lab. John Matoose was walking away from it when Dean approached. “Hey John, all secure?”
“Yep.” John took off his baseball cap, ran his hands through his balding, thin blonde hair and put the hat back on. “All situated. I’ll tell Henry he can start running the power lines through in the morning.”
Dean smoothed his hand on the outside of the silver tube-like building. “Any equipment in there?”
“We took it out. It’s up in storage with that other stuff you brought from Nebraska. You’ll have to hook it up when you’re powered up. Otherwise she’s clean. We even did like you said. We sent the one brain damaged field worker inside. He cleaned out all the specimens that could be dangerous.”
“Excellent.” Dean reached for the door.
“Dean? It’s kind of small in there.” John said leaning into him. “How are you three going to be quarantined in there for any length of time? There’s not even a real bathroom.”
Seeing Dean’s mouth open, Robbie filled the air with words. “Where you been. John?” He stepped closer to the mobile. “We’re bringing in one of the small security campers from the field. Hook it up to the side door. It should make it easy for Henry to power that up also. Gonna build a small protection tunnel.”
John nodded. “Good idea. Get with me later and we’ll work on moving it before you head out to Cleveland.”
“Will do.” Robbie watched John leave. “So Dean, you gonna check it out?”
“Um yeah.” He grabbed for the door. “You coming?”
“Nah, I’ll check out the outside of it.”
Dean, leaving Robbie be, opened up the door finally. The smell of old and dirt hit him immediately. It was tubular inside and out. There were two small labs. A normal set up. A working lab and an infectious special lab were separated by a glass wall. The closet size decontamination room was adjacent to the lab behind the glass. Rubbing the coldness from his hands, Dean stepped further in. He stood in the bigger lab he supposed they’d do a lot of their paper work in. It was dark. The main window that took up the whole one end of the building was so dirty it blocked out any sunlight. When John said it was clean, what he really meant was empty. The mobile would have to be scrubbed down completely. Dirt so thick gathered everywhere around the blue and white interior. Thinking how much nicer the military special units were, Dean ran his freezing hand down the blackened counter-top. Bringing his fingers to his view, he heard the loud metal thump above his head. The thump turned into several, spanning across the length of the mobile. Looking up to the ceiling, Dean’s ears rang with the steady heavy hits. “What the hell?” He stepped back out and looked up. “Robbie! What are you doing?”
Robbie slammed his foot against the roof of the mobile. “Making sure this thing is air tight. If you’re going to be bringing back some killer virus from the future, it better be.”
“It won’t be if you keep banging your feet up there. Get down!” Dean scolded.
“All right.” With a four step run, Robbie leaped from the top of the mobile landing on the grass by Dean.
“Geez, Robbie, you’re gonna break your leg again.”
“Nah. I’m too cool. Hey I’m heading back to do my test. Want me to drive you to town?”
Dean closed the door to the mobile lab. “I’ll take a lift.” As he walked to the jeep he looked back at the distance that Robbie had leaped, a distance had anyone else done they would have shattered their ankles. Chalking it up to it being a Slagel thing, Dean got in the jeep. He watched Robbie through the corner of his eye as they drove back. Robbie popped a cassette into the jeep’s player, turned up the volume, bobbed his head with a grin, and sang as he peeled out. An air of arrogance surrounded Robbie but it was coupled with something else, a childlike enthusiasm lost to most men in the world gone bad. It was so hard to believe to Dean that this Robbie was the same one who beat him to a pulp and shot Frank. In actuality, he wasn’t. And even though Dean was still in a game of mind ping-pong about trusting Robbie, he knew before long he would stay steady at one side of the table, the side with Ellen and everyone else in Beginnings. There was something innocently genuine about this Robbie Slagel. And Dean liked him. He really liked him.
^^^^
Former Quantico Marine Headqu
arters
The large auditorium was crowded, packed with every man that could attend what George was calling the ‘town meeting’. Every seat was taken and the men who stood were crammed in the back to listen to the president. All of them held onto a newsletter of sorts given to them.
George wore blue jeans and a simple tee shirt. His work boots were dirty and his hair not as neatly combed. He sat in a lean against a long table before the room. Relaxed and honest was what George wanted to portray. And he looked the part.
“That friend.” George pointed then brought his hands back to a fold. “I want to be that friend. I want . . . I want to be the father you can come to in the middle of the night. Any time. I am here.” He slowly stood up. “That was the way I ran my presidency. This is the way I want to be with you. Many of you have questions. Hell, so would I. I don’t cringe when Mr. Lange brings me the contents of the suggestion box. No.” George shook his head. “I welcome the feedback. Welcome it. And I read every single one. Now . . .” George stopped pacing again. “I may not be able to address every concern but that is what the weekly meetings are for. To try. You men are here by choice and by God, we are grateful. What we plan to do cannot be done without you. The number one question is why we are not calling ourselves the United States. Think about it. Take the word apart. United. United. Are we united?” George shook his head. “No. The Caceres society was an organization who planned and stockpiled for such a situation as we faced. For years they planned and set in motion where and when to be. What took so long to get you? It has taken years to get to the point where we are even able to offer you anything. I myself was taken prisoner for a while. But . . .” George sighed heavily. “That is not your concern. You’re here. Food... well, we must ration. But that is only until we get things running. We are a country ravished by plague. We have groups of survivors who are selfish, who want no part of the new order. We have survivors I call savages who run around in loin cloths defiling the memory of our great American Indian ancestors. These are obstacles. You ask, some of you, where the women are. Need I answer that with the savages running around? They are safe and secure, placed in what we like to call . . .” George smiled. “…a spoiling community, pampered and treasured like the valuable assets they are.” He reached behind him for a clipboard. “Some of you have asked why survivors are taken against their will. Well, under the laws of this nation the government may seize any land they see fit. If it is farmed and fertile, we must take it. We must feed those who are here to rebuild. You are our future.” George set the clipboard down. “We have to rebuild technology, strength, agriculture and most of all we must build an army great enough to defend this land. Why?” Stopping, George took a relaxing seat on the table. “This country fed seventy-five percent of the world. This country is ours. If we do not build to defend it, if we do not unify in the name of the Caceres Society, then where do we stand? How long will it be before other countries build and gather the technology to come over here and take what is ours? We cannot let that happen. Our greatest defense will be readiness.” George caught the subtle clearing of the throat. Then with the shifting of his eyes, he saw Steward standing to his right in the exit door. And behind Steward was a very dirty Sgt. Hemsley. George stood up. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.” With a nod, he walked around the table and toward Steward at the exit.
The moment George left, The Captain in society uniform--camouflaged within the crowd of soldiers in the back--held tight to his information sheet and left the auditorium as well.
CHAPTER FIVE
Beginnings, Montana
“In my personal opinion,” Robbie spoke in an upbeat explanation mode to Sgt. Luther Baily, or ‘Sarge’, as they headed toward perimeter nine. “This is the best and most viable way, not to mention high tech, to test the perimeter beams.”
“Will I be trying this?” Sarge asked.
“Not right now. You’re in training. Just watch. It takes skill.” Robbie nodded. “Trust me; it’s not as easy as it looks.” Setting down his clipboard, Robbie brought himself to a squatting position. He had a gleam in his eye, his bright white smile flashed as he looked into a metal cage. “Hey guys.” He tapped his finger on the cage. “Today is an important day.” The four squirrels inside the cage scurried about. “You now have achieved a purpose in life. This moment can be yours. Which one?” Robbie spoke to them like they were children. “Don’t be shy, which one? Tell you what. I’ll choose.”
Sarge chuckled as he watched. “Is speaking to them part of the testing ritual.”
“Oh, yeah. And now the good part. Watch carefully.” Next to Robbie was a long metal stick. A wired loop wrapped around the end. Poking the loop through the small opening of the cage, Robbie moved it around until one of the squirrels had the unfortunate timing of running through it. Quickly, Robbie pulled the lever on the handle tightening the loop around the squirmy creature’s neck. “Thank you for volunteering.” Opening the cage, Robbie pulled out the squirrel which dangled from his stick-trap. He shut the cage and stood up. A wave of the metal rod in the air caused the squirrel to swing around in a circular motion. With a count of three, Robbie released the lever hurling the rodent twenty feet ahead of him. A high animal squeal emerged followed by a sizzling sound as the squirrel, spinning full speed, whammed into the perimeter beam. “Yes. Perimeter nine working properly.” He picked up his clipboard and checked it off.
“And when will my training be complete so I can try that high tech means?” Sarge smiled.
“Now. Congrats. All trained. This is your new job for now.” Robbie bent down and picked up the cage. He handed it to Sarge. “Go on check perimeters five through eight and I’ll meet you down at Frank’s.”
“Got it.” Sarge looked at the rodents in the cage. “I have to say I’m gonna miss my night shift watching perimeter seven.”
“You did good though. Whatever it was messing with that beam, you scared it away.”
“Thank you. But if I’m needed to pull more watches ...”
“I’m sure my brother will put you on. See you in a bit.” With a swat to Sarge’s arm, Robbie tucked his clipboard under his arm then headed to Frank’s office to hand over his findings.
^^^^
“Yeah?” Frank called out in his usual manner as he sat behind his desk rocking back and forth in his chair.
“It’s me.” Robbie walked in and tossed the clipboard at Frank.
Frank caught it with a grunt to his chest. He stared at the clipboard. “You do these tests?”
“Uh . . . no Frank. You do them. You left that clipboard hanging around. I thought you may want it.” Robbie tapped his temple. “Time machine memory loss?”
“Um, yeah.” Frank looked at the clipboard then set it down.
Laughing, Robbie headed to the door. “See ya. I have to get cleaned up before I start working at containment.”
“Speaking of which . . .” He waited for Robbie to turn around. “I want to ask you something about one of the survivors, someone that’s been here for a while. The guy called Mo . . . I mean, Reverend Thomas.”
“What about him?” Robbie stepped closer to the desk.
“I haven’t seen him.”
“He’s on one of his fanatical retreats. You know that. He goes on them once a month for a few days. He’ll probably be back tonight.”
“Do you trust him?” Frank asked Robbie.
“Since when do I trust too many survivors? Trust him as in what? Is he dangerous? I don’t think. Whacked out? Yes. He’s the eccentric bible thumper. Why? Are you having a bad feeling about him?”
“You could say that. My gut says we should watch him.”
“Then we’ll watch him,” Robbie agreed. “I’ll check up on him more often.”
“Where does he go for these retreats?” Frank asked.
“The mountains. Why all the questions about him?”
“Well in my memory…you know.” Frank shrugged. “He was bad, Robbie. He was really bad. He banded together a group
of men that were nothing but trouble. I actually killed him myself.”
Robbie whistled. “No wonder you’re worried about him. Any chance that the change in time changed Rev. Thomas.”
“Like I said, I haven’t seen him since things changed. But . . . I’m going to say no. Even if it seems like it, I have to keep in mind what he did in my time frame. Even as a precaution, I can’t forget. I don’t want a repeat of history.”
“I understand. Sort of like sticking with the theory that those who can’t remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”
“Whoa.” Frank looked up impressed. “That is pretty good. Where did you hear that?”
“You’re kidding right?” Robbie smiled. “You’re not?”
Frank shook his head. “Who said it? Dad?”
“No, way. I wrote it myself.” Robbie rubbed his temple. “Here’s another to leave you with. Those who live by the sword, die by the sword.”
“You should write those down.”
“I might.” Robbie grinned and walked to the door. “But, I’m off. And I’m on that Rev. Thomas issue.”
“Thanks.” Frank replied. When the door to his office closed and Robbie was gone, Frank lifted the clipboard to review the perimeter tests. But before he did, he wanted to write down Robbie’s quotes. He was proud that his little brother was creatively philosophical and Frank wanted to eventually share that wisdom with others.
^^^^
Pictures? Dean couldn’t believe it. Who would have ever thought that having Robbie Slagel around from the beginning would signify a history made up of not only paper and words, but of photographs as well? And there were lots of them. They were a dropped off as surprise gift from Robbie. He was passing them on to him, Fran, and Henry. Extras that were not put in the history books. Dean would have to make an appointment to see those. But Robbie left enough. Many different ones including the ground breaking days and early days of Beginnings. For the generations to come, for those who would never know them, a glimpse of what the founding fathers of their land looked like. Robbie’s idea. Dean couldn’t comprehend how not one of them thought to do that at all in his remembrance of the early days of Beginnings.
The Big Ten: The First Ten Books of the Beginnings Series Page 188