The Big Ten: The First Ten Books of the Beginnings Series

by Jacqueline Druga

  “Him.” Dean pointed.

  Henry again wiped his dribbling blood as he glared at Dean. “I thought you could face your own consequences.”

  “I can!” Dean shouted. “But it wasn’t just my consequences! Asshole!”

  Henry charged. Dean charged. Ellen rushed into Dean. “Knock it off.” She laid her hands on Dean’s face, pulling him to look at her. She could feel the heat from his face, his heart and breathing so strong. “What happened?”

  “He told Frank. He . . . told Frank.”

  With a release of Dean, Ellen in shock, slowly turned and looked at Henry. “You told Frank?” She asked emotionally. “Why?”

  “I didn’t tell him you slept together.” Henry defended. “I told him you guys were getting close.”

  Dean spoke before Ellen did, “You shouldn’t have told him anything. It’s none of your business! None!”

  “Bullshit.” Henry stormed forward. “It’s my business when you’re using quarantine to get that last round in!”

  “I’m using quarantine yes! But as my last chance to get Ellen back!”

  “You can’t have her back, Dean,” Henry stated strongly. “She is Frank’s wife. Don’t forget that!”

  “And who the hell cared when she was my wife! When she was with me! Who stepped in on my defense when he was stealing her behind my back!” Dean argued. “Not you! No one. And I’m supposed to just back off of what I feel because it’s wrong to do that to Frank. Well Frank never cared!”

  “And that makes it right?” Henry asked. “Does it? Because Frank dogged you, it’s all right to dog Frank? This isn’t about pay back, Dean. It’s about Ellen.”

  “That’s right,” Dean snapped. “And if you remembered, if you weren’t such a little bitch, you wouldn’t have gone to him about last night, no matter what you told him.”

  “Frank’s my best friend! I had to tell him something.”

  Dean laughed. “Best friend? Oh, some best friend you are. Thank God!” Dean tossed his hand up. “You aren’t even my pal, Henry. Because I wouldn’t want you to do me the favors you’re doing Frank.”

  Henry scoffed, “What the hell are you talking about, Dean?”

  “It’s really swell of you Henry to tell your best friend his wife may be cheating. Way to hurt him. Or better yet. Try to convince his wife not to move back in with him. You are either the lamest friend or you want Ellen for your . . .” Dean’s eyes widened. He shifted them to Ellen then to Henry. “. . . self. That’s it.”

  Henry took a long breath and in an ignoring mode, moved back to the table and began to gather his things.

  “That is it. Isn’t it?” Dean stepped closer to the table.

  Ellen tried to stop him. “Dean. Just let it go.”

  Dean pulled away from her reach. “She lives with you Henry. Talks to you. She’s always there for you.”

  Henry glared up. “You know nothing.”

  “I’m right,” Dean nodded. “Does your best friend know this?” Nearly in a taunt, Dean spoke. “No. He’s too dumb to see it. Make him mad. Break them up. Stop Ellen from moving away.” Dean stepped aside when Henry picked up his belongings and started to leave the room. “Because you know . . .”

  “Dean.” Ellen’s voice, soft and firm, silenced him as she stepped directly before him. “Let him go. Drop it. Please?”

  Dean watched Henry leave then he looked at Ellen. “Did you know this? Did you know how he felt?”

  “Yes.” Ellen halted Dean from saying anymore. “Despite what Henry says, it’s not me. It’s . . . it’s just what I am. He’s just caught up. Just let it go. He doesn’t mean any harm.”

  “Why are you defending him? Do you know what he did tonight?”

  “Yes. And I’m defending him because he doesn’t want to lose, even if it’s just a fantasy, what he has.”

  “What’s he have El?” Dean asked.

  “Something so basic and simple, that you and Frank take it for granted. A rarity. A woman, even innocently, that pays attention to him. When you think about how many men in this community who don’t have that, think about Henry. He’s one of them.” Ellen stepped back. “Excuse me. I’m just gonna talk to him.”

  Dean took a long breath as Ellen left. He looked at the room in disarray. He knew if they weren’t so lucky, their lives--because of Henry’s innocent protective manipulation of Ellen--could have ended up looking just as messed up as that room.

  ^^^^

  What was it? The third or the fourth shots worth of whiskey Robbie watched Frank down, he didn’t know why, but he knew Frank had enough. Seeing his big brother pour another, Robbie reached for the bottle. “Easy.” He pulled it from Frank’s hand and set it on the coffee table. “You have kids here and you have to work in the morning.”

  Frank gave a single sharp look at Robbie. “I think I’m a big enough guy to handle my whiskey.”

  “Yeah. You are Frank. And you’re also a big enough guy to handle your problems without it.”

  “You’re right.” Frank brought his hands to his face, took in a heavy breath and leaned back on the sofa. “Did El say how Henry was?”

  “She said he’s fine.” Robbie capped the whiskey. “Dean just clocked him. And in my opinion, Henry deserved it.”

  “How can you say that?”

  “How can you not?” Robbie came back. “He’s starting trouble for you and for them. Look at the situation. They are stuck together. You’re out here. What can you do about what he told you? Nothing but get drunk, angry, and frustrated.”

  “She’s my wife.” Frank reached for the bottle.

  Robbie pulled it away. “And she’ll be back to being your full time wife the second she steps from quarantine. You have that. Let this go.”

  “What am I letting go?” Frank tossed his hand up. “Huh? Did something happen last night?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What do you think?”

  “What do I think?” Robbie scratched his head. “All that went down with the future trip, Sarge’s death, I think . . . I think it’s a strong possibility that they turned to each other.” Robbie saw his brother’s anger begin to rise. “But Frank. Stop and think about it. Even if it did, even if something occurred, in the scheme of things, with all that’s happening with this pending virus, isn’t this . . .” Robbie let out a fake snicker. “…isn’t this Dean and Ellen thing really trivial?”

  A curl of his lip in disgust along with a sneer was what Frank gave Robbie. “No.”

  “Just thought I’d ask.” Robbie plopped back on the couch in defeat. He knew his calming and reasoning with Frank was over with, especially when Frank stood back up and grabbed the bottle of whiskey again.

  ^^^^

  Bowman, North Dakota

  The sign ‘buy one get one free tampons’ faded and torn, screamed at Elliott as it hung in the corner drugstore window. Elliott thought it was a destiny conspiracy, a painful reminder of the days at home with his sisters when they all would be on the ‘cycle’ at the same time. He glared at sign as he reached for the door next to the drugstore entrance.

  There was a stairwell that immediately greeted him. It was dark and Elliott had to use his flashlight his entire journey up the wooden steps. He could feel the dust with each step he took. He could smell the dirt of the building which still needed to be cleaned. Remnants of a chaotic town still lingered.

  Pushing aside the sprawled papers with his foot, Elliott reached the top of the stairs. He entered into a small hall. A door was to his left and right. Thinking how ridiculous it was, Elliott turned to his right and knocked.

  The smell of cleaning solution, along with a bright smile from the Captain greeted Elliott when the door opened.

  “Captain,” Elliott had complaint to his voice. “Do you realize how absurd this is?”

  “You’re so rude, Elliott. Come into my home.” The Captain opened the door wider.

  “Apartment.” Elliott stepped inside. “There are multitudes of houses to choose
from. Why the apartment?”

  “I love it. I love living in apartments. Always have.”

  Elliott looked around the place. He was in a large living room that could have been two rooms. The small kitchen could be seen along with the bedroom. “This is small.”

  “It’s perfect. I’m one man.” The Captain stepped back. “Want to have a seat on my . . .” The Captain pointed. “…couch?”

  “This is insane.” Elliott said. “Everyone else is blocks away. All settled in little homes while you perch yourself above a drugstore like some . . .” Elliott grinned. “Oh, I get it.”

  “Get what.”

  “It’s symbolic. You’re above us all, so you place yourself physically above us as well.”

  “That has got to be the most retarded statement ever to come from your mouth.”

  Elliott turned his head away mouthing the word ‘retarded.’

  “Elliott?”

  “Retarded?” Elliott shook his head. “Anyhow. Do you have them?”

  “Such haste.” The Captain walked to his two seater dining room table. “And yes, I do.” He handed him a few sheets of paper. “I did a little job lottery. Just until I figure out who can do what and where to assign.”

  “This will work. I’ll pass it out tomorrow.” Elliott looked at the papers. “Night.”

  “Elliott?” The Captain followed him. “No, hanging out and talking.”

  “No. Not tonight. You’re scaring me. You have that gleam in your eyes and that mind is churning. I hate when you get like this because I remember that look well. A mere private I was. I was so excited you were the new Ex-O. You call me in the office, you tell me, ‘Elliott, missile specialist isn’t for you. I believe your calling lies in maintenance engineering’ I didn’t know what the hell that was. I was thrilled until I found out I was going to be a janitor.”

  “I pledged to fill positions.”

  “I believed you.”

  “You still do.” The Captain grinned.

  “Unfortunately. And I also believe you are taking far too long with this . . . master plan.” Elliott ignored the Captain’s chuckle. “Too long for it to be simple.” Elliott raised an eyebrow. “It’s big and you want to have every minuscule detailed ironed out before you tell us. Right?”

  “Well . . .”

  “Oh, my God.” Elliott shook his head and moved to the door.

  “Elliott quit being so melodramatic,” The Captain pulled him back. “Yes. It’s big. And I have to say good. But you shouldn’t fear I’ve gone overboard . . . O.K., maybe just a little.” The Captain leaped to get Elliott when he tried to leave again. “But it’s good. Trust me. A few more days, Elliott . . .” The Captain closed the door all the way. “Look what I got.” He stepped back and ran to the kitchen. He came out with a bottle of whiskey. “Come on. Sit with me. Let’s have a drink. Enjoy my new home.”

  “Apartment.” Elliott snatched up the bottle.

  “I’ll get glasses.” The Captain walked from the room.

  “All right.” Elliott dropped down to the couch. The second he did, he sprang back up when the hardness surprised his backside. Lifting the thick old book he had sat on, Elliott looked at it and reviewed the title. ‘The Horse Soldiers; Skills of the Calvary.’ Shaking his head and thinking, ‘The Captain even reads weird’, Elliott tossed the book, and stole a swig of the whiskey before the Caption returned with the glasses.

  ^^^^

  Beginnings, Montana

  The tremble wasn’t just confined to Ellen’s index finger. It traveled like a bad infection, through her hand, up her wrist and straight to her heart, bringing with it a pain that could kill her. In the main lab, only a corner light on, Ellen’s finger hovered over the ‘down’ arrow of the computer keyboard. Her face, somber and drawn peered at the screen. Her eyes barely left the words as her finger scrolled down. And every once and a while, Ellen stopped, closed her eyes, and swallowed before reading some more.

  The creak of the trailer door startled Ellen a little, and told her someone, Dean or Henry was coming. Hearing the door to the lab open, Ellen quickly reached up, time limited, and shut off the monitor only.

  “Hey.” Dean spoke softly as he walked into the lab. He wore only his jeans, no shirt and his hair looking as if he crawled from bed. “What . . . what are you doing?”

  Nervously, Ellen turned on the stool. “Nothing. Just, you know, working.”

  “On?” Dean walked closer.

  “Old stuff.” Ellen shrugged. Her hand stayed on the counter, flat to avoid allowing Dean to see her shake. “But I’m done. All booted down.”

  “Are you mad at me?” Dean asked, stepping to her. “You got out of bed in the middle of the night and didn’t say anything.”

  “I was in one of those, antsy moods.” Ellen took a deep breath. “Can’t sleep.”

  “Oh.” Dean smiled. “Good.” Hands on her legs, Dean stepped to her. His fingers slid up her thighs pushing forward her long shirt as he leaned down to her, placing his lips on her neck. “Come back to bed.” He whispered, widening his mouth with each sweep to her skin.

  “Dean, stop it.” Ellen fought him off. “Not here. Not in front of the window. Someone can see.”

  “I don’t care,” he continued his pursuit.

  “I do.” Ellen moved his hand. “I do.” She looked at him seriously. “I told you last night I would give you this time. But you have to give me what I want.”

  “It’s bullshit.” Dean whispered. “This . . . this between you and me. It’s right. And what am I supposed to do, huh? Give up on it. If you were giving me this out of being nice, first of all I wouldn’t want it. Secondly, it wouldn’t be so hard to know that in a few days, you are going to be out of my life, back with Frank, in his house, and in . . . in his bed.” Dean backed up.

  “I have to try with Frank. He’s my husband. We have too many years. And despite what you think Dean, I do love Frank. I have to give it that shot. I owe it to myself and him.”

  “And then I’m out. It’s gonna be ‘morning Dr. Hayes’. And ‘when will we exchange kids’. No more special talks, laughing, nothing.” Still not facing her, Dean shook his head. “I don’t need a lover in my life. I just . . . . I just need you. Why can’t you see that?”

  “And why can’t you see it won’t be for long. Just until things settle. And I promise you, with everything I am, everything, you will not be alone. I won’t leave your side.”

  There was a certain curl to Ellen’s voice that sent out emotional signals Dean caught. Over his shoulder, slowly he turned his head to face her. “That was too serious. Un-Ellen. What’s up?” He watched her shake her head and then he watched Ellen do something he wasn’t supposed to. She caught a single tear that rolled down her cheek. “El.” He moved back to her. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You don’t cry over nothing.” Dean laid his hand on her arm to stop her from getting up. His eyes grew wide when he felt the vibration of her trembling through her skin. “Something is up. What is it? You just aren’t . . .” In the midst of speaking, hands moving, head turned, Dean saw it, the power light on the computer terminal. “I thought you said you booted down.”

  “I did,”

  “You’re lying.”

  “I’m not lying. Is the computer on?”

  “Yes.” Dean pointed to it. “Why would you lie about something as simple as booting . . .” Quickly, before Ellen could stop him, Dean reached up and turned on the monitor. “What is this?” He looked at the notes.

  Ellen turned the monitor. “I . . . I wanted to tell you, but I had to figure out if I was right. I am. And now, and now I just don’t know how to explain it.”

  “What are you reading?” Dean asked.

  Ellen took a deep breath. “The reason I can promise I will never leave your side.” She saw how confused Dean was. “Dean, we brought these disks back from the future. But they were so far pre-plague, we didn’t need them. I started to read,
but you said to stop. I read this . . .” Ellen clicked a few times on the keyboard then read the entry, “Seems Hap’s psoriasis is spreading. I wish I could see how badly, I guess I’ll have to take Ellen’s word for it.’

  “O.K,” Dean said, “We disagreed. What’s the big deal?”

  “That’s what I thought then I read this. This was the last one I read before tonight.” She clicked again. “Three days later. At least my typing has improved. Less errors. My old typing teacher would be proud. A lot accomplished when forced to not look at keys.” Ellen peered up to Dean. “Odd entries. Unlike you. But you said something today that made me read more. And I did. I found out why you missed the Jenny Matoose sample, Dean.” Ellen’s voice dropped to a cracking whisper as she clicked on the keyboard. “Read.”

  In a ‘what the heck’ manner, Dean leaned over Ellen’s shoulder and looked. His heart dropped along with his expression, “Oh, my God. This can’t be right.”

  “It is.” Sadness laced Ellen’s words. “I read and read and read, every single entry. It’s right.” She swallowed and faced Dean. “It something we should be glad to know now. We can prepare. It may have so much to do with why we didn’t beat the plague. At least we know it’s the reason why Jenny’s sample was wrong. You didn’t look at it. I did. I’m not you. I make errors. These notes only go back one month before the virus. By what I read, the problem’s been there a lot longer. Do you understand, Dean? Do you? I can’t leave your side. I won’t.”

  Dean’s eyes stayed transfixed on the screen. His face was pale with horror. “What are we gonna do, El? Huh?” Dean asked with so much emotion. “How am I supposed to beat this? If in the future . . .” He looked back to the screen, then to Ellen. “If in the future . . . I’m blind.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  December 12

  Beginnings, Montana