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The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20

Page 19

by Jacqueline Druga


  “What!”

  “Move your ... screw it.” Robbie turned on the windshield wipers batting Frank’s big combat boots.

  Henry kept whining. “Robbie, please. He’s gonna fall. Robbie drive ... oh.” Henry fell sideways when the truck squealed to the left. “You’re brother’s dead. He’s dead.”

  “What the hell?” Frank felt the swerving truck and the tapping on his feet. “What’s he doing?” Ignoring the hits against his feet and the fact he was near falling off, Frank aimed again, saw the face of one rider, shot out, hit the wheel, and sent the motorcyclist toppling and spinning. He was like the single domino that began a chain of ricocheting events. His immediate flip and spin backwards caused the stopping and falling of several other bikers as well.

  “Yeah!” Frank called out. “Ha!” He taunted them loudly as if the occupied fallen bikers could hear him. Seeing that they were no longer chased, Frank, slid his body over, grabbed on to the ladder and climbed back down to the passenger’s side. He opened the door with a grin. “Miss me?” He jumped in side.

  “Frank, your big ass legs were in the way. I couldn’t see,” Robbie whined.

  “You couldn’t drive,” Frank argued.

  “I couldn’t drive because I couldn’t see.”

  “What the fuck, Robbie. I was busy.”

  “Did you get them?” Robbie asked.

  “Do you see them?” Frank replied.

  Robbie checked out the review mirror. The bikers became like specks in the distance. “Good job, Frank. Man, did you see the way you tossed them guys.”

  “Yeah. I swear it was like they weighed nothing,” Frank said, almost amazed with himself. “It was like I had superhuman strength.”

  “Bet me it’s from all that farm work you do. We don’t grow spinach”

  “For sure I’m not stopping now. I was cool.”

  “You were cool.”

  “Thanks. Hey, Henry, what ...” Frank spun around in the seat. “Where did he ... oh.” Frank started laughing when on the floor, behind the seats, Henry laid passed out.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  January 2 - Beginnings, Montana

  On his back, looking up, Joe laid on the floor in the room connected to his office. He hooked up the plumbing to what would be the sink in the new examining room. He felt the nudge at his feet.

  “Sorry, Joe,” George spoke, carrying in a sheet of drywall.

  “Not a problem,” Joe grunted.

  “Where’s Frank?” George asked. “He’s supposed to be carrying all this stuff in here today.”

  “Making rounds.”

  “Again?”

  Raising his arms out to his invisible leverage, Joe brought himself to a sitting position. “Again.”

  “He does it morning, noon, and night. You don’t suppose there may be something wrong with your son, do you?” George inquired.

  “Nah.” With a roll to his knees first, Joe stood up and brushed himself off. “Frank says he thinks there’s trouble out beyond the wall. His traps aren’t going off, but he says he hears things. And if Frank thinks there might be trouble, there just might be.”

  “From whom?” George asked. “Who would start trouble? Who’s left? Maybe he’s just being paranoid.”

  “I doubt it. All of our men have run into trouble out making the rounds, George. That’s not their paranoid delusions. It’s real. And if there are people out there that can make trouble on our runs, there are people that can make their way here to start trouble.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” George dusted off the white from his hands. “Well, whenever he’s done, if you see Frank, can you tell him we have some heavy stuff to be moved?”

  “Will do.” When Joe saw that George had left, he laid back down and returned to his plumbing.

  <><><><>

  “See, I don’t understand this attitude,” Robbie said to Frank as they walked near the back gate perimeter.

  “That’s because I’m not understanding all of this sudden time you have to spend with Ellen.”

  “I told you Frank. It’s for the survivor program.”

  “It’s all the time, Robbie.” Frank had edge to his voice.

  “We’re reading books about behavior and psychology. It’s not romance.”

  Frank stopped. “Now why would you say that?”

  “That’s what you’re implying.”

  “No I am not. I’m bitching about the amount of time you’re spending with her. Every minute with you is one less minute with me.”

  “But you’re worried about something romantic.”

  “Robbie,” Frank snapped his name. “Now, I’m worried. I wasn’t fuckin’ thinking it before.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Bullshit?” Frank, with his hands on his hips, stepped closer to his little brother. “Why are you all defensive now?”

  “Because for two weeks you’ve been an asshole to me and now I know why. It’s because of Ellen. Nothing is going on, Frank. We’re working.”

  “I want it to stop.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “No, fuck you. Learn the shit you need to learn on your own.” Frank pointed down to Robbie.

  Robbie swiped his hand away. “See. I’m not even going to discuss this with you. You’re getting pissed over nothing.”

  “You don’t think I have reason too?”

  “No.”

  “I do. I said nothing about you two being romantic. You did. That tells me there’s more than meets the eye.”

  “Then that is your jealousy and insecurity.” Robbie backed up. “Besides, Frank, it’s not your place to be jealous or insecure. You’re not her husband. If her husband is fine with it, I shouldn’t be getting flack off of you.”

  “Her husband is not fine with it!” Frank shouted.

  “What?” Robbie turned around. “Dean is too.”

  “No, he uh ... he came to me and told me to stop you. Yeah.”

  “Right.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “Frank. I’m not fighting with you over this.” Robbie turned again and started to walk.

  “Robbie, you ...” Frank’s head quickly shifted to his left when he heard the subtle crack of a branch. Stern faced and vision focused, he scanned the wooded area. Only a glimpse of the barrel of a shotgun was enough to send a warning siren off to him.. “Fuck. Robbie, hit the dirt!” Frank charged to him.

  Just as Robbie turned to Frank, a shot rang out. The fence may have protected them from outsiders, but not from bullets. The bullet seared into Robbie’s arm, spinning him, and the next shot rang out, hitting him in the side.

  Frank dove for Robbie and in the midst of his leap, a third shot fired out. Blood shot out of Frank’s thigh from the hit just as his body careened into Robbie’s. He grabbed his brother and rolled with him down the grade and out of harm’s way.

  When the momentum of their roll slowed down, Frank lifted from Robbie. “You O.K.?”

  Robbie grunted and nodded.

  Taking the revolver from his shoulder harness, Frank crawled to the hillside, keeping low. As he made it to the grade, he heard the revving engines of motorcycles. “Robbie, it’s our toy store gang.”

  Bloody, Robbie rolled over and reached for his own gun. On his stomach, he inched his way toward Frank.

  “Here.” Frank held down his hand, grabbing Robbie’s and helping his injured brother. He started laughing the louder the motorcycles grew.

  “What ... what’s so funny.” Robbie crawled up to Frank.

  “Stupid mother fuckers. Look. Oh this is gonna be beautiful.” Frank gave a demented, proud grin to Robbie.

  Robbie began to snicker in a sick laughter with Frank, forgetting their petty differences in a moment of Slagel entertainment. They watched the ten bikers moving extremely fast, thinking they could crash through the gate. They came at such a high charging speed, that even seeing what happened to their comrade before them didn’t give them enough time to stop the same fate from happening to them. Stop
ped, shocked and fried. Crash. Surge. Scream ... were the sounds made as one by one they made contact with the perimeter fence.

  <><><><>

  “We have a bleeder,” Dean called out, pushing the cart with Robbie on it to the operating room.

  “He’s going into shock, Dean.” Ellen said as she monitored Robbie’s vitals.

  “He’s lost too much blood. We’re going to need Joe to donate.”

  Ellen’s hands felt Robbie. “Shit, we lost the pulse. He’s gone into cardiac arrest.”

  “Andrea, start compression now!” Dean ordered,. “Ellen, you shoot to OR stat and get things ready to tube him. Get one amp of epinephrine ready and one amp of atropine.”

  “On it, Dean.” Ellen took off.

  With the cart still moving, Andrea jumped up on the side, cupping her hands over Robbie’s chest. Dean on the end, pushed the cart as fast as he could, losing some control as they turned the final bend. With the weight of the cart and his pushing it, he barreled through the double doors of the operating room.

  “Time.” William clicked the stop watch. “Excellent. Two minutes. Let’s try to top this. This time let’s have a v-fib the moment he is dropped on the cart.”

  Ellen, Dean, and Andrea caught their breaths and nodded in agreement.

  “Guys.” Robbie lifted up from his laying down position on the cart. “I’m still bleeding here. Can we rehearse emergency medical procedures when you fix me?”

  “Nonsense.” William patted Robbie’s leg, causing Robbie to grunt in pain. “We need some sort of urgency so we can rush this.”

  “What if I start to really get bad?” Robbie asked looking at his side. “I’m losing a lot of blood here.”

  “Then we’ll be ready.” William smiled. “Dean?” He motioned his head. “You three take him back out to the front. We’ll try this all over.”

  Robbie moaned when the cart started moving again.

  <><><><>

  “You look pale.” Frank commented as he sat at Robbie’s bedside that evening.

  “I feel pale.”

  “You look it.”

  “I swear, Frank, those sickos were trying to make me go into real cardiac arrest.”

  “They were up to something with you.” Frank straightened his arm and bent it. “I couldn’t get up for an hour. They took three pints from me.”

  “Thank you for that.”

  “You’re welcome. Man, I never knew anyone who had to get a blood transfusion from a simple flesh wound.”

  “That’s because they let me bleed for two hours Frank.”

  “Yeah, and then the assholes run around saying they saved your life.”

  “You save my life Frank.” Robbie pointed.

  “Nah, I just stopped you from getting shot again, but I’m getting good at that stuff.”

  “Yeah you are. We’re gonna be calling you Super Human Frank of the After-Plague world.”

  Frank chuckled. “Hey, do you suppose something happened to me to make me strong and I just don’t remember it?”

  “You mean like in Greatest American Hero?” Robbie asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “I would think you would remember an alien, Frank.”

  Frank scratched his head. “You would think. Plus, I’d be able to fly.”

  “True.”

  Joe heard that last comment as he entered the room, and he didn’t even want to ask. “So, how you feeling Robbie?”

  “Weak.” Robbie coughed. “Real weak. Dean tried to kill me.”

  “Fuckin’ Dean,” Frank commented.

  “Yeah.” Joe walked closer to the bed. “Well, Ellen and I have an idea, a community idea.”

  Robbie quickly looked to Frank. “Uh-oh. They aren’t gonna play ER with me again, are they?”

  Joe shook his head. “No. That is what brought up my idea. I realized again how bored this community can get. Today’s little Marcus Welby episode proved it. Since you can’t leave the clinic because they’re making you stay to practice patient care, I brought everyone to the waiting room. I’ll wheel you down, Robbie.”

  “What ... what are we doing?” Robbie asked.

  “We’re gonna be entertained for at least for a half hour.”

  Frank was curious. “How?”

  “You.” Joe pointed.

  “Me?” Frank questioned. “I’m gonna be the entertainment?”

  “Yep.” Joe nodded.

  “Dad,” Frank nearly whispered. “You aren’t gonna make me pose or anything are you?”

  “Frank, you’re an ass. No. I’ll get the wheel chair.”

  Frank watched Joe leave and he turned to Robbie. “What do you think it is?”

  Robbie tossed his hands up. “I haven’t a clue.”

  Dean scratched the back of his head as he watched Ellen bring the television in the waiting room. “Tell me what we’re watching again, but say it slow so I can be sure I understood you correctly.”

  Ellen giggled. “Frank on Jeopardy.”

  “That’s what I thought you said.” Dean pointed. “Frank Slagel on jeopardy?”

  “Yep.”

  “The game show?”

  “Yep.”

  Dean almost laughed, but he didn’t because he realized it wasn’t a joke. “El, the game has integrity.”

  “It never aired.”

  “I see.”

  “They gave us the tape though, unedited.” Ellen held it up.

  “Jeopardy the game show?” Dean questioned again.

  “Yes, Dean.”

  “How ... how ... how did Frank get on Jeopardy?”

  “Frank was the game show guy when he was stationed in California.” Ellen laughed in remembrance. “If it aired, Frank tried to get on it. It was like his way of trying to add that extra income to his family. The Price is Right. That was funny. Um ... some spinning game.”

  “El. Stop.” Den held up his hand. “I can see Frank on The Price is Right. Actually, I can see him doing well if picked.”

  “I have that tape if you ...”

  “Some other time.” Dean interrupted her. “But Jeopardy?”

  “Hello, Dean. Yes. With the real TV host and all.”

  “El, sorry but in order to get on Jeopardy you have to have achieved a certain level of intelligence and that level has never been third grade.”

  “Oh Dean, that’s terrible. Frank is smart.”

  Dean’s eyes widened. “Frank?”

  “However, you have a point. Frank ... well, Frank lucked out.”

  “How?” Dean asked.

  “Well, Frank was on leave when they were auditioning in Connecticut. I flirted with the production assistant and got the quiz. Frank aced it.”

  “So he cheated to get on Jeopardy?”

  “In a sense, but he still had to study.”

  “Of course.”

  Henry raced in the waiting room. “Hope I’m not late.”

  “No.” Ellen shook her head. “You’re only the second one here.”

  “Good.” Henry grabbed his chest. “I didn’t want to miss what Joe called, ‘highly entertaining comedy’.” He looked to Dean’s snicker. “What? It isn’t funny?”

  “Oh.” Dean held up his hand. “I’m expecting to be rolling on the floor.”

  “What is it?” Henry asked.

  Dean answered. “A tape of Frank ... get this ... on the game show Jeopardy.”

  “Aw.” Henry whined with a stomp and a turn. “Geez.”

  Dean looked a little stunned by Henry’s reaction. “What? What’s wrong?”

  “Gees Dean, when’s the last time you saw Jeopardy? Well, scratch that. It’s been at least two years.”

  “Yeah, so,” Dean said.

  “So Dean.” Henry gave attitude. “Last I recall, game shows weren’t so funny that I’d be rolling on the floor.”

  “But Henry think,” Dean stated. “Frank is a contestant on the game show Jeopardy.”

  “Yeah, and Jeopardy is like the ‘no laugh’ game show. All those co
ntestants are like really smart and ...” Henry’s eyes widened. He hurried and took a seat on the floor in front of the television cart. “Oh, this is gonna be good.”

  Frank, Joe, and Robbie were the last to arrive in the waiting room. Joe positioned Robbie and then walked immediately to the television. Frank walked over to Ellen and sat down next to her on the floor. He flashed a smile and wiggled his fingers to Dean who glared at him.

  “El,” Frank whispered. “What’s my Dad making me do?”

  “What do you mean?” Ellen asked.

  “He said I’m the entertainment for tonight.”

  “Oh.” Ellen patted him on the knee in a pacifying manner. “He’s showing that tape I have of when you were on Jeopardy.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s proud of that accomplishment in your life.”

  “I was pretty smart, wasn’t I?” His eyes lifted to Dean who snickered. “Shut the fuck up, Dean.”

  Joe grabbed everyone’s attention with a clearing of his throat. “All right. I promised you entertainment. Tonight you’ll get it. A few years back, some years back, while stationed in California, my son Frank made an appearance on a game show. And because we’ve always been so ... so ... shocked at his performance, I thought you’d enjoy it.” Joe turned on the television then pushed in the tape and pressed play. He enjoyed the brief moment when gasps of shock and moans of surprise rang out in the room the second the ‘tag’ Jeopardy-November 17 in block-style, white lettering appeared on the black background. Before he missed a second of his all time favorite video, Joe took his seat in the chair.

  The tape began to play ...

  The dark set, the flashing lights, and the theme music boasted the enthusiasm as the announcer’s deep voice played.

  “She’s a librarian with a degree in History. He’s a botanist from Duluth and he’s a ... sergeant in the United States Army. Meet, Wilma, Marv, and Frank. And here is your host ... Alex Zabeck.”

  The audience gleefully cheered Alex as he ran across the stage waving to Frank and the other two contestants. Each of them were behind their little stand with their names written neatly across the front except for Frank’s. He could have chosen to erase it when he spelled his name wrong, but instead he just scratched it out and wrote it again.

 

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