Henry listened to Dean ramble, but he had a hard time staying with Dean because he kept looking at Frank. Frank looked disturbed, probably upset about Robbie. He kept walking then sitting, and then walking, all while holding his arms close and seemingly wiping a chill from himself. “El,” Henry moved to her whispering, “is Frank O.K.?”
“I don’t know Henry. Upset maybe?”
“He doesn’t look good. Maybe he’s sick.”
“I’ll ask him.” Ellen walked to Frank who had just sat down again. “Frank?”
Frank jumped a little and turned his head to her. “Yeah?”
“Are you all right?”
“Fine.” He ran his hand down his face then brought his hands together in a wringing fashion.
“Frank, you don’t look all right.”
“I’m fine.”
“Frank.” She laid her hand on his. “You’re shaking.”
“I said I’m fine!” He pulled from her and stood up. “I’m upset about Robbie. I need a drink.”
“Frank.” Ellen started to follow him, glancing at the faces whose attention was grasped by Frank’s outburst. “Frank.” She went into the kitchen as he pulled his bottle down from the top cabinet. “Frank, stop it.”
“Stop what?” He grabbed for a glass.
“You don’t need to drink.”
“Drop it, El.”
“No, Frank.”
“Drop it, El.” Frank’s voice raised some more as he poured his moonshine.
“Give me that.”
“Drop it El!” Frank downed it. “Just . . . drop it. O.K.?” He poured another shots worth.
“No I will not drop it. This is ridiculous. I worry about you.”
“Don’t.”
Ellen fluttered her lips. “I wish to God it was that easy. I wish I didn’t have to worry about you. But like it or not Frank, I love you and I care. I’m worried. You drink all the time now, especially when things are rough or don’t go your way.”
“Oh, so you see me so much you can make this conclusion? Well I’m sick of you saying something every time you see me with a drink in my hand.”
“I’m sick of seeing you drink,” Ellen came back. “I think . . .” She saw Frank turn his back to her. “No Frank, listen.” She spun him to face her. “I think you many have a problem.”
Frank laughed an ignoring laugh at her, turning away again.
“Fine.” She released his arm. “Be that way. But if you don’t do something now it’s gonna catch up to you and for the first time in your life, Frank, you won’t be able to control something.”
“Since when does one drink mean a problem?”
“That may be true, but when was the last time you had just one drink?” Tired of waiting for an answer and staring at his back, Ellen tossed her hands in the air. “I’m done. You know where I am.” She backed up and then turned, walking out.
“El.” Frank turned around and she was gone. He stared down at the glass, the moonshine still settling in there. He brought it to his lips then lowered it. He closed his eyes in thought, clenched the glass, and heard Ellen’s not-so-subtle words racing in his mind. Though they may have been words that held a scariness to them, they were words Frank argued with in his head. Then as he went to place his glass down Frank stopped, finished off what was in there, set the glass on the counter, and went out to rejoin the meeting.
CHAPTER TEN
JULY 5
Like a two year old, George Hadley had a temper tantrum in his office of the compound. He tossed plans and maps about. Papers flew every which way. It was not what he wanted. His scientists had failed him. In an attempt to create a strain of the new virus that would walk right into Beginnings, they failed. Two more hours, that was all the virus needed to hold off. Two more hours and those infected would have started the chain of infection that would lead to the downfall of Beginnings. George knew they were nowhere near the cure but with the time he had to use to build his second plan of attack, Beginnings could very well beat his best offensive. Perhaps George should not have put so much stock or hope in Robbie and his men bringing in the virus to Beginnings. George should have known better. Joe Slagel had a horseshoe when it came to luck. If it was the last thing he did, he would snatch up that horseshoe, leaving Beginnings defenseless, and hopefully, with a deadly virus as well.
<><><><>
“Wait.” Robbie called out leaning toward Marty who was taking blood. “You know better.”
“I know I have to get this done.” Marty knelt over a man, a survivor they had picked up. “Dr. Dean needs this blood to check.”
“That’s not why I stopped you. Did you see what you were about to do?” Robbie asked.
“Yes, I was getting ready to fill a tube of blood.”
“No, you were getting ready to rub your eyes.”
“The sweat is dripping in them Robbie.”
“Yeah well if you rub your eyes something else will get into them too. This is a highly contagious virus. You heard, Dean. Your eyes are an open door way for it.”
Marty took a moment to catch his breath before he continued on. “Thanks.”
“Sorry, I yelled.” Robbie stood up, holding a clipboard. He looked at his watch knowing that in a few hours he would have to have everything ready for Beginnings when they came to make a drop and pick up supplies. He didn’t know why he had to document everything . He spoke to Dean on a daily basis. Maybe Dean needed it as something to have on file and maybe just bury if Robbie could help to contain the virus outside of the walls.
Could this virus be it? Could this really be the one that started it all in the future? When Dean and Ellen made that future trip, it was made prior to finding the communication center and since they found the communication center, maybe with Robbie going out, he sped things a little. Robbie hoped in a way that in the other future, the virus had made its way in through them, because if that was the case, staying outside of Beginnings just changed the future.
Robbie walked from Marty and the other man that lay next to him. He moved to Greg who lay on the ground, two blankets covering him. “Hey, Greg.” Robbie squatted down next to him.
“Robbie.” Greg shivered, fighting the fever.
“How are you?”
“Not bad. This thing is not bad.” He looked at Robbie with glossy eyes. “I’ll beat this.”
Robbie watched him shake, a big man such as Greg trembling beneath the blankets for warmth that surrounded him but he did not feel. “How’s the headache?”
“Make, make, making me sick to my stomach.”
Robbie stared at Greg, paler than he had seen since the original plague back in Ashtonville. Only this one was different. With the old plague, Greg would have been dead already. The suffering of that plague was fast, furious and deadly. But this one, it moved slowly, taking its time in devouring the body in such a torturous way.
Slowly and with a silent nod, Robbie left Greg to rest. He had that report to finish for Dean and it wouldn’t be too long until they arrived to pick it up. The only thing was it really did seem like a long time, because the hours seemed to drag on. Sitting, writing, and taking care of the ill. That’s all there was to do, that and wait.
ROBBIE’S REPORT
Date: JULY 5
Patients Name: GREG HENSON
Date of first symptoms: July 2nd Time of Onset: 12:15 p.m.
Body Temp: 103 Headache: Yes Mild Swollen Glands: Yes
Appearance of skin: Pale Touch of skin: Dry, hot
Is patient conscious? Yes Is patient alert? Yes
Any discoloring of skin? Some Describe: Lt purple under eyes
Blistering of skin? No Body cavity bleeding: No
Convulsions: No Nausea: Some Congestion: None
Vomiting: No Dizziness: No Can patient talk: yes
NOTES:
Dean, As you can see Greg and the other two are running neck and neck with the symptoms. I don’t know what else to do but sit and watch them. How long will they be sick? Will
they get better? Or will they only get worse? You have to let us know. As for now, for the rest of us, it’s day three and counting.
Think of us. Robbie
CHAPTER TEN
Henry didn’t mind working. Of course he spent so much of his time sewing and perfecting what he called ‘The Henrys, the newest rage in Beginnings diapers. Then again, Ben and the others in fabrics looked at him like he was nuts when he asked them to mass produce it. Ben’s idea wasn’t bad. He merely suggested that Henry have those who wished to have the new diapers, bring their old ones up to be redone therefore saving on supplies. Henry agreed to that. After all, Beginnings wasted nothing, not even all those dread locks that were cut off from the new guy, Mel. Henry enjoyed what Beginnings did with them. He enjoyed it even more when Alexandra came home excited from school showing Dean her artwork of a horse. And there dangling from the back end of the animal as the tail was a dread lock. For the first time ever, Henry could have sworn he saw Dean cringe.
This day wasn’t so bad. Even though it was a Sunday, Henry didn’t care about working. It did seem more and more to him that as the years went on in Beginnings so did Joe’s policy that Sunday was a day of rest. Henry wasn’t resting. Joe made sure of it. He told him he had to fix the things that only he could fix. Then he drove home the point to Henry that he got time off when no one else did.
Henry would mind if he thought he was missing something, but he wasn’t. He had a few more items to take care of then he thought he’d go help Frank stock up for the drop to Robbie and his men. Hopefully that would eat enough time to allow Ellen and Dean to work on that guessing game that Henry hated to admit, but found rather dull. Everything Ellen described sounded the same to Henry. Dean had to be cheating. That would be so like him. There were no kids to help with, well, except Brian. Joe had the others at his house while he prepared for the weekly Slagel Sunday dinner. And as far as Brian went, Henry was still working on the baby aspect in his life. One step at a time he told himself over and over. The true test would come in a few days, as Andrea said, when Nick gets out of the clinic. Then Henry would see where his paternal instincts lie. He had high hopes, confident that he would do well. Ellen was going to stay with Frank for the first week and Henry would be there a lot to learn.. How that was going to work out, Henry still didn’t know. Henry only wished Frank would get a move on with his fatherly tips. Yes, he spit them out so fast and out of the blue but Henry was having a hard time grasping Frank’s method to being a Dad. Deciphering what Frank told him borderlined as difficult as deciphering Alexandra’s phonetic spelling of everything she wrote.
He finished fixing the catch lock on the outer door of the monitoring room of security. How that qualified as something no one else could fix baffled Henry. He set down his tools and opened the door. “All fixed, Mark. She won’t stick and you shouldn’t get stuck in here for hours again.”
“Wouldn’t have been so bad, Henry,” Mark explained, “but for three hours Frank kept saying he was coming to get me.”
“Speaking of Frank, I’m heading to the hanger. Have a good day.”
“Henry,” Mark called out.
“Yes.”
“Could you do me a favor?” He lifted the stack of papers next to his blue mug of coffee. “I finished the weekly perimeter reports. Could you drop them off to Joe’s office on your way there? I want to head on home and catch a nap before the game tonight.”
Henry had to stop and think of what game. Then he remembered Frank’s new game he invented. Frank was always coming up with new team sports aside from the obvious baseball, hockey, and football. He called them strategic games and he got away with it too. Like the paint ball they played once a month, this game helped build maneuver intelligence. To ensure that it was categorized as a military game, only the men who were security and or reserve security could play. Henry actually was thinking about filling his evening with the game himself. “Is it still the same time. After dinner?”
“Yep.”
“Good.” Henry took the papers. “I’ll run this up to the hanger. Oh Mark, Melissa does know about the game right? She was pretty pissed off last time.”
“Marcus is my kid, too, Henry. I told her and she’s all right with it. Besides now she sees it as a form of exercise Marcus just doesn’t get anymore.”
“Yes, well running around a field from a bunch of grown men will do that to you.” Henry looked at his papers. “All right, I’m out of here. There’s a lot of activity this week huh?” Henry noticed the size of the stack.
“Most of that came from the communications room.”
“The communications room?” Henry was surprised.
“Yeah, tons of activity going on there.”
“Why?” Henry saw Mark shrug and figured Mark didn’t put any stock into it. Leaving the monitoring room and latching the door that was now fixed, Henry’s curiosity peeked. He searched out the communications report weekly activity and pulled it forefront of the pile. “This can’t be right.” Henry looked at it as he walked with his eyes staring down. “Look at all this activity for one week?” He flipped through the first page, stepped aside when he heard the motorcycle and Frank yelling ‘Henry watch out’ and continued reading. Feeling slightly nauseous from moving and looking at the reports, Henry waited until he was in Joe’s office to read them better.
Once there, he hoped what he saw was wrong, but it wasn’t. Why was there so much activity on a day to day basis in the communication center? It should be limited and done only at shift change. Henry read the activity from two days prior. “Eight a.m. enter, six after eight exit. Change of shift. But what’s this? Nine-forty-two a.m. enter. Nine-forty-three a.m. exit. Ten-twelve enter. Ten-fifteen exit. And this goes on.” Henry flipped a page. “Who the hell is bothering these guys down in communications?” Scratching his head, Henry set the reports on Joe’s desk. He grabbed a piece of paper, scribbling a note to lie on top. ‘Joe, take a look at all the activity in the communications room. Would like to add a keypad in communications to see who keeps going in and out of there? There shouldn’t be this much activity. Four general codes, Security. Council, Monitors, and General Population. Maybe we can break it down. Henry’
Thinking the note was long winded and he’d hear about it from Joe, Henry was certain he got his point across. Wives, friends, whatever, should not be bothering the men monitoring the communications room. And obviously these guys were being bothered.
Leaving Joe’s office, Henry wanted to stop at his office before heading up to the hanger. He wanted to see how many keypads they had left they didn’t need rebuilt. If he had them ready, he’d bring it up to Frank as well, get his opinion. And then Henry decided he would bitch at Frank for nearly killing him with the motorcycle.
<><><><>
“We’re doing really well with these.” Dean tossed some notes on the coffee table as he sat on the couch with Ellen. “It’s quiet here.”
“Joe has the kids.” She reached forward for her tea. “You’re coming to dinner tonight, right?”
“Don’t I always.”
“No.”
“No, you’re right. I’ll be there.”
“Are you playing the game this evening?” Ellen asked.
“I’m not security. Besides, I want to take a look at Marcus when they finish with him. You know, for signs of fatigue.”
“How did he do two weeks ago?” Ellen set her cup down.
“Better than the men who were chasing him. Of course, Melissa stopped the game early,” Dean shrugged. “Anyhow, I was thinking of something.” He leaned his one arm on the back of the couch.
“Uh-oh.”
“What?”
“You have this look in your eyes. I’m still healing, Dr. Hayes.”
“No.” He shook his head. “Frank has the kids tonight and I thought maybe you and I could just sit for a while.”
“We’re sitting for a while now.”
“Yeah but it’s work related. I’d just like to sit with you for a
couple hours. We’ll talk about the kids, whatever, just not about my sight or this damn . . .” Dean reached forward to the folder on her lap, “virus.”
“Oh Dean, there you go swearing and being forceful again.” She snickered. “Sure, I’ll come over.”
“Without, Henry?”
“Sure. Henry doesn’t have a problem with me seeing you alone. In fact, I’ll send him to help Frank with the kids. Put him in good practice for when Nick comes home. Henry really doesn’t mingle that much with the kids.”
“There’s a reason for that, El,” Dean said.
“Yeah, Frank says two fathers are enough.”
“Not that. Henry is not . . . never mind.” He laid the folder on the coffee table. “I think I’ll check on Brian. He’s been sleeping up there an awful long time.”
“I’ll go with you.” She followed him as he stood from the couch.
“No, stay down here. I’ll be right back.”
“Dean?” Ellen stepped closer to him. “Can I ask you something? Are we having the understanding yet?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I’m not real good at understanding understandings. Why?”
“Well, it’s just that you haven’t kissed me yet.”
“Would you like me to kiss you?”
“Only if you want to. I mean, I don’t want to force you into something that you don’t want to do,” She rambled. “After all, this understanding is primarily companionship based and I . . .” Ellen knew she was talking too much when she felt Dean pull her closer and press his lips to hers. Softly he kissed her. Then as he pulled back, just slightly, he bit his bottom lip, placed both hands on her face, and pulled Ellen to him for more of a kiss.
“Whoa.” Ellen giggled after he was finished. “I just realized how long it has been since I kissed you. Oh Dean, I remember I really liked kissing you.”
The Big Ten: The First Ten Books of the Beginnings Series Page 243