Jason calmly sat behind Ellen’s desk. “Have a seat.”
“Where’s my sister?”
“Your sister is a bit frightened of dealing with you.”
Richie laughed. “She just doesn’t want to deal with me because she knows she’s keeping me in here for no reason.”
“You don’t think she has a reason?”
“I know what her reason is,” Richie stated, a little hyper.
“And what would that be?”
“Because I owe her money.
Folding his hands, Jason came off as such the mental expert. “Money hasn’t any value here.”
“I know that. You know that. She doesn’t know that. I’m paying her back all right, with my mind.” Richie fidgeted in his seat and added some hostility to his tone. “I cannot believe she is doing this to me. I was fine. Perfectly fine. She’s turning me unto a loon.”
“Have you always had this much anger toward Ellen?”
“No!” Richie said defensively. “Well, yeah, she has always pissed me off, irritating me in the big sister way. Now this. I’m killing her.”
Jason slowly looked up at Richie. “You’re what?”
“Killing her.”
Nodding, Jason looked down at his folded hands. “It’s terroristic threats like that, Richie, that keep you in Containment.”
“No.” Richie corrected. “It’s a vengeful, little, big mouth woman named Ellen. That’s what keeps me in Containment.”
^^^^
To Elliott, Bowman and New Bowman had ‘home’ qualities and warmth that made them places he wanted to live. Beginnings was on the colder side, despite the attempts people made at putting tiny gardens in their two by two patches of grass outside their town homes.
But there was one thing he did find a definite perk, to not only living, but working for Beginnings’ Security. He got to wear the headset radio.
“Yep. I’m awake.” Elliott spoke as he walked from the living section. “So I’ll be available if you need me.”
“You don’t start shift for a while,” Dan conversed over the airwaves with him. “Why are you making yourself available?”
“Frank says I have to be at all times when I’m awake. Plus. . . I’m bored. No one’s at the house. I’m heading to that distribution place for milk.”
“Shopping?”
“You can say that. Talk to you later.” Elliott grinned thinking about how crazy he looked talking to himself as he walked. He moved into center town and tried to remember which of the look-alike buildings was the ‘everyday’ distribution. Peering around, he heard the sound of ‘live’ music seeping into the street. He turned to his right, smiling pleasantly at the sound and followed to where it came from, the Social Hall.
With nothing else to do, he figured he’d watch Robbie and his band play. He chuckled some at Robbie’s attempt to sound country. He opened the door just as the song ended. A light clapping came from the empty Social Hall. Elliott saw Ellen by the stage, standing and watching. He walked over that way. “Hello.” He nudged Ellen softly.
Ellen grinned when she saw him. “Hey. What are you doing up?”
“I went to sleep earlier.” He folded his hands behind his back. “I woke up and I looked at the time. It was after four and there was silence in the house. No Josh, twins, Joey, Nick. Where are they?”
“Masochist Andrea has them. Yep,” Ellen exhaled. “It gives me that break I need as a single mother.” Her head swayed as Robbie and the Starters began to play.
Elliott chuckled. “So you’re listening to them rehearse?”
“Every once and a while I like to. They’re practicing for country night.”
Elliott looked up at the stage. “They do well.”
“Yes. Hey!” Ellen turned to face him. “I like this song. Dance with me.”
Elliott shook his head. “No.” He nearly blushed. “I haven’t danced since before the plague.”
“Come on.” Ellen tugged a little on his arm. “Dance.”
“Ellen. No.” Elliott stared forward again.
“O.K.” Ellen crossed her arms.
Through the corner of his eye, he saw the pout. He whined first, took a step forward, laid his hand on her arm and, without saying anything, led Ellen to the dance floor. “Be nice. Like many things, it’s been awhile.”
A quirky smile hit Ellen. “That almost sounds like you were referencing sex as well.”
Elliott’s eyes widened as he took hold of her hand. “No.” He laid his hand on her back and moved Ellen into him, “That . . . I wasn’t . . .no.”
“Elliott. Relax.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“This . . . closeness, being close.” His fingers released and gripped over and over in nervousness.
“Elliott.” Ellen looked at the good eight inches that separated them. “We aren’t even touching.”
“Yes. I know.” Elliott danced well, slow and swaying, but he didn’t look at Ellen.
“Closeness?”
“For me, yes.”
“What the hell would you do if I pressed up against you?” Ellen asked.
“Run,” Elliott said seriously.
“You can’t be . . .” Ellen looked up at him. “You’re not kidding.”
“No. Give me Savages, Society soldiers, animals. I’m fine. They’re daily occurrences. But a woman.”
“I’m not a daily occurrence?” Ellen questioned.
“Not like this, you aren’t.”
Ellen had to laugh. “Elliott, if you can’t dance close to me, how are you going to kiss me at the end of our date?”
Elliott stopped moving. Panicked, he looked down at her. “I . . . um, I . . .”
“You weren’t planning on it, were you?”
“No.” Elliott started dancing again. He had to ponder if the song was just long or Robbie noticed his uncomfortableness and continued to play just to get him.
“And you’ll really run away if I touch up against you?”
Clearing his throat, Elliott looked down to her. “Most likely, yes.” His one eye closed when he felt the sneaky move of her hand on his neck. “Ellen.”
The right side of her mouth lifted in an ornery grin then Ellen moved right against Elliott. “Try to run now.”
Elliott’s body shuddered in his slight-fake-cry-whine as Ellen giggled. But he retained his stature, and to ensure he wouldn’t get more nervous or lost in what was happening, Elliott continued to dance, pretending he danced with . . . Grace.
Ellen had worked all day and Dean knew she didn’t have the kids until later on that evening. He needed to talk to her about what transpired on the bed in Jeff’s room and why they stopped. It was heavy on his mind and he knew he couldn’t proceed with the important test he had planned for the evening without speaking to her so Dean sought her out.
Someone said they saw her heading into the Social Hall. Dean could hear Robbie’s band playing as he went there so he knew she probably was there. Even though he debated on using Frank’s advice of claiming testosterone induced brain blunders, Dean opted for honesty. He was going to be blunt, apologize, and ask Ellen to get something to eat with him so they could talk.
As he opened the door to the Social Hall, Dean didn’t even have to step inside to see his plan had gone array. The moment he spotted Ellen and Elliott closely dancing on the floor, Dean only stared for a moment then, with his head down, walked back out of the Hall.
^^^^
Bowman, North Dakota
His beard gone, Sebastian tightened his gold bandana and peered up to the sky before sitting in front of the small campfire. It was set up in the center of Main Street Bowman. Sebastian lifted his sword and began to polish it.
“I found two more M.R.E.s,” Anthony said, dropping the dark green sealed packs by the fire. “Another two days of food for us. I think one is Chicken ala King.”
“Were you able to scrounge up any more oats for the horses?”
“No.” Antho
ny sat down on the ground across from Sebastian. “Hopefully by taking it slow and keeping them watered, they’ll make it the hundred miles to Beginnings.”
“Maybe after a goodnight’s rest as well.” Sebastian continued to polish and looked up to the sky again. “It’s getting dark. We’ll leave first light. We’ll take the most open route to Beginnings and hopefully will see any Wildcats if they approach us.”
“Wildcats.” Anthony let out a long breath. “Who would have thought . . .?”
Sebastian looked around and worked intensely on his sword. He wanted to look good for their approach of Beginnings.“Certainly not our men. My question is how did they get way down here?”
“Sebastian? Maybe they didn’t. Maybe they’re closer than we assumed from our knowledge.”
Sebastian shook his head. “Impossible.” He was certain. “More than what we’ve seen?” Again he shook his head. “Impossible.”
^^^^
Beginnings, Montana
The last of his coffee was not only cold, it was bitter as well and ironically matched the way Dean felt. The lab was quiet and lit only by the small fluorescent bulb that hung above the sink. Dean leaned so tightly into the counter that it began to cut into him, but he held his stance firmly. Hs hair was messed from the numerous times he had run his fingers through it and his face was drawn. One hand laid on a thick open folder and the other on a pocket tape recorder.
Looking up momentarily, Dean depressed the button. “Readings actually have worsened since the last sample, signifying . . . signifying rapidity.” His voice rasped. “Right now and for hours, I’ve been under contemplation. How . . . how do I do this or tell this? In this lab there are no answers to be found . . .” Dean voice trailed off as he stopped recording. “In this lab, no.” He opened the drawer and tossed in the recorder, closed the folder, tucked it under his arm, and walked out.
Thinking, ‘Oh yeah’ Frank snickered as he read the words in the chapter that Danny had given him.
‘ . . . Reading your letter, Bobby, stopped me from leaving my chair. I was glued with lust . . .’
Frank nodded as he read. ‘Oh yeah’
‘ . . . My entire lower half of my body tingled from the words you wrote, my mind wandered. When Frank . . .’
‘Perfect. I can pretend it’s me’. Frank smiled.
‘When Frank came by to say hello I wanted so badly just to take that chance and be with him and imangine he was you . . .’
‘Fuck’, Frank paused, shrugged, and then continued reading.
‘ . . . Touching his body as if it were your well toned god temple and, even if only in my mind, calling out your name in desire as he plunged deep inside. Your letter did that to me. It sent me on a sexual mind-travel fantasy and when I returned, I found my hand . . .’
“Frank,” Dean called out.
‘Fuck, Dean’ After doing a quick peek at himself, Frank set down the chapters.
“What are you reading?” Dean picked up the paper. “The Helen and Bobby story? Doesn’t this bother you?”
Frank looked clueless.
“I mean it’s . . . it’s about . . .” Dean still saw the lost look as if Frank was asking him what he was talking about. “It’s about sex.”
Frank rolled his eyes.
“O.K., though I know you truly want to be graced with my presence, I do have a reason for being here. I have a problem, Frank.” Dean handed him a tablet and pen. “It’s big and I need you to help me figure out how to handle it. O.K.?”
Frank nodded.
Dean pulled up a chair and sat down. “Just please write legibly. I don’t want to misinterpret.” After getting a scouring face from Frank, Dean proceeded to talk.
^^^^
“Well?” Ellen asked Jess as she leaned against the arm of the sofa with her arm on the back of the couch.
“Well . . .” Jess looked in debate. “It’s up to you.”
“Should I have been that mad?”
“Honestly?”
“Yes.”
“You do have a mark on your neck.”
“But it isn’t a sucker bite.”
“What would you think?”
Before she could answer, there was a knock at the door. “Who is it?” she called out.
“Dean. I need to talk to you.”
“Shit.” Ellen stood, walked to the door, and opened it. “What, uh, what are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you. Were you sleeping?”
“Oh, no. I was talking.” Ellen flattened her hair. “Come on in.”
“Talking?” Dean stepped inside. “To . . .” He hesitated when he saw Jess. “Who?”
“Hey, Dean.” Jess lifted his hand.
“Hey Jess. El, I really need to talk to you seriously.” He held out the folder and pointed in the direction of the dining room table. “Can we sit?”
Jess stood up. “Do you want me to leave?”
Dean looked at Ellen. “It’s up to Ellen. It’s about . . . Elliott.”
“No. Stay Jess,” Ellen said. “Just keep confidential anything you hear. O.K.?”
Jess nodded and walked over to the table with Dean and Ellen.
Ellen saw it on Dean’s face. She looked at his hands as they played with the edges of the folder. “Dean?”
“I . . . I don’t know how to say this.” Slowly Dean slid his hand over his face then opened the folder. “I ran them over and over. The counts. I isolated the cells. I even, don’t ask how, performed a biopsy today.”
Ellen was afraid to ask. “And?”
Dean hesitated and looked sadly at Ellen. “Leukosarcoma. His blood has gone leukemic.”
Ellen closed her eyes.
“The count is higher than when he was in the clinic last. The cells show it. The tissue biopsy I got confirmed it. I took a sample from the submandibular. It’s there. It’s in the early stages, but present.”
“Oh my God.” Ellen brought the folder to her. “It’s in his glands.”
“I’m sorry, El,” Dean spoke softly.
“Excuse me for a minute.” Ellen gathered the folder and, in a daze-like movement, she stood up and walked from the room toward the bedrooms.
Jess’s eyes went from Ellen’s leaving to Dean. “What . . . what does all this mean? I’m lost.”
“It means . . .” Dean looked to make sure Ellen was gone. “Elliott Ryder is dying.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
October 21
Lester grunted loudly as he fell flat on his face to the hard fall ground. Robbie grabbed his legs, flipped him over, and proceed to drive a stick at his throat right to the point of entry, then he stopped.
“Dead!” Elliott called out during the training exercise. “Robbie is only one man.” He walked to the eight Beginnings men who stood up from the ground. He waved his hand to the others who sat around, trying to draw them in closer to the wooded area to speak to them. “What is going to happen when a pack comes after you? They travel eight in a pack.”
Lester brushed himself off. “Savages aren’t quiet. Robbie was quiet.”
Robbie disagreed, “I did the war call.”
Lester scoffed, “A spilt second before you hit us. That’s not right. Savages . . .”
“How do you know?” Elliott corrected. “How do you know that’s what they are going to do?”
Lester shrugged. “They always do.”
“But the next time they may not. Be ready, watch for them coming, and don’t wait for their warning cry. All right?” Elliott nodded then spoke up. “Bowman UWA, you are our scouts. Beginnings UWA, our Savages this time. Let’s have a war. Robbie and I will ref.” Elliott waited for Robbie. “Good job.”
“Thanks. Ground or air ref?” Robbie stated.
“You take air. I’ll do the ground.”
“Cool.” Robbie trotted off to a tree, leaped up, and grabbed the branch to climb.
Elliott lowered the headset microphone. “Tracking, come in.” He waited. “Tracking. Mark,” he called
again. “Mark.”
“Sorry.” Mark answered. “What’s up?”
“We’re doing a full blown attack, so we may drive you crazy.”
“I’m ready. I’ll ignore the beeps.”
“Good.” Elliott disconnected the call and looked around to his men who had taken their position deep in the woods. “I want to see eight dead Savages!” Elliott called out. “Begin!”
^^^^
The folder slammed hard on the clinic counter then Dean followed it with a firm point. “Ellen, you’re wrong!”
She clenched her jaws tightly to hide her shaking. “It’s my call.”
“It’s . . . wrong.” Dean leaned into the counter. “Listen to you.”
“What options do we have? Huh, Dean? What options?”
“We have the . . .”
“Will it work on this?” Ellen asked. “No. It’s a form of radiation. Big fuckin deal! He needs more. We can’t give him more. We can’t give him hope, so why give him despair?”
“Ellen.” Dean softened his voice. “It’s not right.”
“I know.” Ellen nodded. “Oh, God, do I know. But look at it from my point of view, Dean. If your test are correct . . .”
“Why do you do that?” Dean snapped. “Say ‘if’. Why do you question me?”
“Stop it, this isn’t about you. All right!” Ellen held up her hand. “If those tests are accurate, which I believe they are, then he has progressed too far. But look at him. Just take a look at Elliott. Where’s the weight loss? Where’s the fatigue, the illness, the fevers, and infections? Where? I’ll tell you where. In here.” Ellen touched her temple. “They are locked away because his mind hasn’t been given the key to release them. We cannot give him the key. This is a classic case of mind over matter, Dean, and you know it. Seriously answer me this. How bad should he be?”
Dean took a slow breath. “Bad.”
“He’s not because he doesn’t know. In your opinion, how long does he have?”
The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20 Page 101