The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20

by Jacqueline Druga

  “Ellen, we can’t determine . . .”

  “Dean,” Ellen snapped, “how long?”

  “By the progression of the cancer, I’d say three months. Six tops.”

  Ellen closed her eyes.

  “But who knows. You’re theory may prove correct.”

  Ellen opened her eyes. “Are you agreeing with me?”

  “Absolutely not. He has to be told. When is the question. I need to seriously sit down and discuss this with you as a co worker and doctor, but I can’t do it when you’re this emotional. There are options.”

  “There are none.”

  “You’re not looking,” Dean told her. “I’m sorry we are now faced with our first case. I’m sorry it has to be your patient, but why in God’s name do you want pretend it doesn’t exist is beyond me. When have we ever stopped fighting? We have options. We just . . . we just have to find them.” Dean slowly moved to the lab door.

  “He’s my friend, Dean.”

  His hand reached for the door but Dean stopped. He looked over his shoulder at Ellen who stood by the counter. Her hands were flat on the surface, her body leaning into the edge, and her head was down. Dean didn’t open the door, he locked it. Swallowing hard, he walked back to Ellen and stood behind her. “El.”

  “He’s my friend,” her voice quivered. “What am I going to do?”

  Dean stepped closer to her. His hand brushed down the back of her hair before he placed his lips there.

  “He’s dying, Dean. He’s dying. We have to help him.”

  Dean let out a heavy breath that moved Ellen’s hair. His hands lay upon her shoulders then he slowly grazed them down her arms and rested on her hands. Ellen spread her fingers and Dean slipped his inside. They tightly clenched their hands at that moment. With his body totally against Ellen’s, his fingers locked with hers, Dean crossed his arms around her.

  Ellen sunk, bodily and emotionally into his hold. Dean didn’t let go. Though Ellen made not a sound, not a movement, Dean knew she was crying.

  He just knew.

  ^^^^

  “Man, you suck!” Robbie laughed out, watching from the tree branch.

  Elliott joined in his laughter as he saw Jimmy, one of Beginnings men, roll into the high weeds. Practice was winding down. Sixteen men remained for the final drills, the sixteen that weren’t doing as well. Shaking his head and folding his arms, Elliott readied to call out but stopped. His head turned drastically to his right and his eyes zoomed outward for the sound he heard at the same time Robbie saw it. He backed up.

  “Elliott,” Robbie summoned.

  “Did you hear that?” Elliott called up to him.

  “I see it.” Standing up some, Robbie peered out into the wooded area. “There’s movement. I can’t make out what it is.”

  “Shit.” Elliott moved the microphone to his mouth. Just as he began to speak, he felt the hard slam hit into his legs and he looked down at the ground and saw Jimmy’s head that laid there. Elliott looked up from the wide eyed and twitching decapitation to his unsuspecting men. “Pull in! Pull in now! We have incoming! Watch your backs!” He rushed to the tree by Robbie. “How many?!”

  “I can’t tell.”

  “Raise your weapon and pick them off.” Elliott jumped up and grabbed the limb, lifting himself to a higher ground so he could see. He pulled out his revolver. “I’ll take east. You take west.” A shift of his eyes and he caught in his focus his men backing up into the clearing. “We’re sitting ducks.” He could hear and see the rustle of the trees and brush. He watched Robbie wait for a clear shot. “Tracking. Tracking.”

  Mark looked perturbed as he held the phone close to his ear. “No. Melissa, I’m listening to you. How can I not be? God, I’m working at least give me . . .”

  A hiss brought Elliott’s voice. “Tracking!”

  “Hold on, Melissa.” Mark turned his chair and as he did, he saw the fast blinking lights on the screen. “Fuck.” He slammed down the phone and rolled his chair close to the computer. His fingers clicked. “I’m here.” He spoke in the radio.

  “How many?” Elliott asked.

  “Packs of eight,” Mark answered quickly, “positioned . . . two to the north, one to the east and two to the west of you.” Mark, antsy, waited for the numbers. “Forty. Positive.”

  “Damn it. They seem like they’re right on us.”

  “They are . . .” Mark swallowed. “They’re right there, right with you.” Mark closed his eyes when he didn’t hear anything from Elliott. After hesitation, he picked up the phone and dialed. “Joe, we’re under attack.”

  “All-lee fuckin in free. Come on,” Robbie said, braced in the tree, and trying to get a shot. They moved low and toward the clearing where the Beginnings men stood in a ready stance, as ready as they could be with the blood of Jimmy not far from their feet. Robbie wanted them to make a charge so he could take them down. Then it happened, a single unified Savage cry and they leaped out from the trees. Robbie began to fire.

  The fifteen Beginnings men stood in the clearing with their backs to each other as the battle began. They fought off the spears, arrows, and eventually the Savages that tried for them. Gun fire rang out, but more hand to hand combat than shooting entailed.

  “Robbie!” Elliott called out and took a shot at a Savage, knocking him back. “This isn’t going to work. They’re too close. We’re chancing our own men.”

  “I’m with you.” Robbie pulled back his gun. He heard the whistle first, high and fast, and then he felt the searing sharp pain as the arrow landed in the right side of his chest. The shock and force of the hit sent Robbie stumbling. The gun fell to the ground then Robbie crashed backwards down from the tree. His side broke into the first branch and then he felt nothing but the air in his sail to the ground.

  Elliott saw it happening as he climbed down. Some of the forty Savages changed their focus. They came forth in an attack mode for Robbie and for him. Swinging down, Elliott hung onto the branch. Getting ready to lower himself, he was closely charged. The Savage tossed his spear quickly towards Elliott. The spear missed as he pivoted his body while still holding onto the branch.. Elliott felt it as it grazed so close to his gut it could have nipped off the hairs on his stomach. His body swiveled forward again and the Savage was right in front of him. Rushing the weight of his body back, Elliott swung out hard, gripped the Savage with his legs, locked his ankles, twisted his body, and broke the Savage’s neck. Dropping the savage, he let go of the branch and landed on his feet. As he stood, he pulled his sword, plunged it outward deep into the chest of another oncoming savage, retracted it, and barreled Robbie’s way.

  Robbie stumbled to his feet, holding onto the arrow that protruded from his chest. He raised his eyes to the face of a Savage then the head of a spear. Before he could react, he watched the Savage’s head pop up in the air and fly backwards allowing the body to shudder and dance blindly around. A simple kick from Robbie dropped the body and exposed Elliott with his sword.

  Reaching out to Robbie’s chest, Elliott snapped the arrow at the head, and bent down for Robbie’s gun. “Can you shoot?” he asked as he stood up.

  Robbie took the gun and caught his breath. “Yeah. Shit. Watch out.” Quickly he reached out, laid his hand on Elliott’s head, pushed him down, extended his arm, and fired. The force of the blast sent the Savage flying back into his own explosion of blood.

  “Thanks.” Elliott swung out his hand in a pat to Robbie. “Let’s finish this fight.” He rushed off to fight with the men.

  Like a dog, Robbie twitched his head rapidly, checked out how bad he bled, shrugged it off, and also ran into the engaging battle between his men and the Savages. It was a loud, strong, and bloody battle that the Bowman and Beginnings soldiers were not about to lose.

  ^^^^

  Frank caught the tossed t-shirt just as he stood from putting on his pants. He looked at his father who placed his boots on the bed. Tossing the shirt over his head, Frank ripped off his bandage, tucked the shirt in h
is pants, and moved to the bed while fastening them.

  “Tracking says they all confined. Tower can’t spot them. They’re in Area Nineteen. They were training. Too deep to see.”

  Frank stomped into his boots. He held question on his face and opened his mouth.

  “Forty,” Joe said. “Tracking didn’t see them coming. Yeah, I know. How’s that? Right?”

  Frank tied his boots and nodded.

  “Danny’s on his way up to check it out. Henry’s at Armory getting . . .” Joe watched Frank hold up one finger, then two, and then three. “Yes, those squads. Let’s hope Robbie and the Frank prodigy are handling it.”

  Frank’s mouth began to form the word ‘Elliott’

  “I know he worked all night, but he’s tough. He shouldn’t tire.”

  Frank couldn’t help it. His eyes closed and a sick feeling hit him.

  “Frank? What’s wrong?”

  Frank shook his head and grabbed his shoulder harness. He tossed his revolver to his father as he fastened the harness and they both walked from the room.

  “The Jeep’s outside. We’ll head you . . .” Joe’s phone rang and without hesitation, he answered it. “Yeah.” Joe’s head dropped. “Thank God. Robbie? Are you all right? Good. Good. What about . . . shit. We’re on our way.” Joe beeped the phone off and turned to Frank who was waiting. “the situation’s over, but not without casualties. Let’s go.” Joe and Frank moved down the corridor.

  ^^^^

  All it took was one comforting squeeze of Dean’s hand and Ellen’s hand quit shaking. She peered up to him as she worked with gratefulness, giving a soft smile. Before he backed up to finish his work, he ran his hand down the back of her head.

  Across the lab, Johnny filled with genuine disgust. His left eye fluttered as he fought to control his rolling eyes. He knew it was time. “Dr. Dean.” Johnny lifted the Dictaphone headset. “Something’s not right about this tape.”

  “What’s wrong?” Dean asked.

  “It sounds weird.” Johnny shrugged. “Maybe it’s me. Did you do something to it?”

  “I doubt it.” Dean walked over to the Dictaphone and placed on the headphones. He pressed ‘Play’. The digital data enhanced tape blasted through the wires of the headset to Dean’s ears. The high squealing sound knocked into Dean with such a shock that he instinctively flung off the headphones with a painful grunt. His face winced up as he nearly doubled over into the counter. His shaking hand still held onto the headset.

  “Dean.” Ellen rushed to him.

  “Dr. Dean.” Johnny showed concern.

  Dean stared out dazed. What had happened? Why was he feeling like that? He felt the uncontrollable tremble build in his body.

  “Dean?” Ellen called him.

  Ellen’s voice had a reverberation to it. It was distant in Dean’s head. He blinked hard and when he did, he saw Bev.

  “Dean.” Bev spoke his name in a moan. She flung her head and clearly showed she was nude.

  “Dean,” Ellen called again.

  Dean turned to face her. “Bev.”

  Ellen’s face curled in disgust. “Fuck you.”

  Johnny tried not to laugh because knew it would be seen. He cleared his throat. “Dr. Dean, that’s uh . . . Ellen.”

  “Huh?” Dean was confused. “What?”

  “That’s Ellen.” Johnny pointed to Ellen across the lab.

  “No kidding.” Dean shook his head.

  “The tape?” Johnny asked.

  “Something must be wrong with it.” Dean ejected the tape out of the Dictaphone. “What’s the . . .”

  “Dr. Dean,” Johnny called his name in a wince as Dean pulled out the tape.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  Dean shook his head. “It probably was yesterday’s dictation. Something was wrong with the player.” Dean walked across to the center of the lab. “I’ll redo them.” He opened the drawer at the counter.

  “Dr. Dean, what are you doing?”

  “I’ll send it with the other tapes for Danny to erase and clean.” Dean shut the drawer and walked over to Ellen. “Is something wrong?”

  Ellen only glared at him.

  “El?” Dean looked confused. “You look mad. Did I do . . .”

  Andrea’s barrel into the lab stopped Dean’s question and caught all of their attention. “I need all hands on the double,” Andrea ordered. “We have incoming wounded. There was a Savage attack on the hill.” Andrea flew back out.

  “Shit. Elliott.” Ellen raced by Dean.

  “Come on, John,” Dean called to him as he also raced out.

  “Behind ya,” Johnny said moving to the drawer where Dean had tossed the tape. He opened it.

  “John?” Dean popped his head back in. “Let’s go.” He stood there waiting.

  Nervously Johnny walked to him and together they left.

  Denny held his hand high in an unnoticed wave watching as everyone flew from the lab. “No one waved back.”

  Josh shrugged. “Maybe they didn’t see you. They looked in a hurry.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, like, should we wait?” Josh asked.

  “No. I know where they are.” Denny walked into the lab.

  “We’re gonna get in trouble.”

  “No, we aren’t.” Denny scoffed. “Dr. Dean said I could have two.”

  “But he’s not here to give them to you,” Josh said.

  “But he told me where they are.”

  “Still.” Josh followed Denny to the counter. “How do you know you’re allowed?”

  “If I wasn’t allowed how would I know where they are?”

  “How do you know you know where they are?”

  “Watch.” Denny opened a drawer. “See?” He pointed to a box containing small cassette tapes. “Duh.” Denny rolled his eyes. “Now we can be real recording artists.”

  “Cool.”

  “Yeah.” Taking three tapes, Denny closed the drawer and he and Josh left the lab.

  ^^^^

  “Robbie.” Joe whispered his name in relief as he and Frank pulled up in the Jeep at the back gate. “Christ.” Joe spotted the red all over Robbie’s shirt. “He’s hurt.”

  Frank jumped from the Jeep at the same time and rushed to Robbie as he and the others made their way in.

  “Hey,” Robbie grinned. “We kicked ass.”

  “Robert.” Joe could see a portion of the arrow in his chest. “You’re injured.”

  “Yeah.” Robbie looked at it. “Bonus Neville points.”

  “In all seriousness, are you all right?” Joe asked and laid his hand on Robbie’s shoulder.

  “Yes,” Robbie nodded. “We lost three men and we have seven injured, not including me. I want to get a hold of Jess, have him survey by air, and check on our Savage camp seventy-three miles north.”

  “Didn’t we do that today?” Joe asked.

  “We were going to after the training,” Robbie stated then saw Frank looking around. “Who you looking for?”

  Frank mouthed the name ‘Elliott.’

  “Oh.” Robbie nodded. “He’s gone.”

  “Christ!” Joe exclaimed.

  Frank covered his eyes.

  “Yeah,” Robbie said. “He didn’t look too happy either.”

  “I would think not,” Joe commented.

  “Not at all. He had this look on his face I didn’t think Elliot could make. I think it was anger,” Robbie stated nonchalantly. “It was immediate, too.” He snapped his fingers. “I told him, ‘Elliott, can’t you wait’. Not him. He didn’t answer. He just went.”

  “Robert.” Joe had a scold to him. “Can you be a little more compassionate?”

  “What for?”

  “Elliott,” Joe answered. “The man’s dead.”

  Robbie laughed. “Dead? No he’s not. He’s gone. He sped off to Tracking. I need stitches so . . . see ya.” Robbie flashed a grinned and moved by Joe and Frank.

  “There is something wrong with him.
” Joe pointed at Robbie. “All right. Do what you have to do to regroup your staff. I’m heading up to Tracking. I’m curious myself.” Joe started to walk. “Get a hold of Jess. I want him in the air now.”

  Frank nodded.

  “Frank, it’s good to have you out of the Clinic.”

  Thinking ‘did I even have a choice’ Frank moved on toward his incoming injured men.

  ^^^^

  Elliott raised his hand to knock on the closed Tracking door, but decided not to. Merely placing himself into a calm state of inquiry, he walked in.

  Danny was there with Mark. Both of them looked up.

  “Gentlemen,” Elliott greeted them and shut the door. “Mark, I need to know what happened.”

  Mark nervously looked at Danny then back to Elliott.

  “Did Tracking fail us? Did it not show them? Were they too well hidden?” Elliott waited for a response. “Am I asking too many questions?”

  “No,” Mark answered. “Tracking didn’t work.”

  “I see.” Elliott looked to Danny. “What was it? Did they take it out? Perhaps we should get . . .” Elliott saw the confused and nervous expression on Danny’s face. “Danny?”

  “Everything is fine now,” Danny stated.

  “Now? I’m getting a feeling I’m not being told everything,” Elliott said. “Am I?” He watched both men look at each other. “Danny, did Tracking fail?” Elliott waited for an answer. “I can check history myself. I’d prefer not to. Did tracking fail?”

  Danny shook his head. “No.”

  Elliott nearly lost his breath. “No? So they were seen coming. When and where?” The silence and lack of response burned Elliott. “Mark? When and where?”

  “I don’t know,” Mark answered.

  “Danny?” Elliott questioned. “I’m assuming you pulled a history. When and where?”

  “Tracking picked them up coming into the region in a fast grouping and at a steady pace.”

  “When?” Elliott asked. “How long before we spotted them?”