The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20

by Jacqueline Druga

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Ellen hasn’t mentioned her at all. What do you make of it?”

  “She’s jealous,” Frank said assuredly. “She has to be.”

  “I hope this doesn’t backfire.”

  “It won’t.”

  “Frank, don’t take this the wrong way, and don’t be insulted, but going by our history, are you sure you aren’t telling me to do this just so you can get her back?”

  “Dean, I’m not doing that shit. Where’s it gonna get me? Back with El? For how long?” Frank shook his head. “If I get her back in my life, I want to get her back the right way. On her own. We talked about this. I’ve done a lot of changing about it and I want you to believe I mean that.” Frank began to unpack a box.

  “Frank, I want you to believe I meant it when I said if things work out again with me and Ellen, I will give you the understanding.”

  Frank’s eyes rose from the things he took out of the box. “I didn’t think you were serious about that,” he said with some shock. “I knew you were at the time but I figured once the Bev thing got settled, you would forget about it.”

  “No.” Dean shook his head. “First off, I won’t forget how you backed me up and were the only one. Second, like we said before, why fight anymore?”

  “True. Thanks. If you think about it . . .” Frank returned to pulling items from his box. “We could be happy. No tension. No competing. But I’m not sure you and I could hash out understanding rules.”

  “I have a thought on that,” Dean said and leaned against the archway. “Tell me what you think.”

  “Go on.”

  “No kiss and tell.”

  “Excuse me.”

  “O.K. With every understanding, there are ground rules. You have her this day, I have her that day. I don’t want that. Aside from the fact that it will drive us each insane thinking that it’s the other’s night, there’s no need to set rules. I really don’t think we need them. She’s my wife, but she’ll always spend time with you, even without an official understanding. Time, night, it has and always will be that way. I just think that if we work this out our understanding will be different . . .”

  “Dean.”

  “No, listen. There’s no reason that we have to let each other know what we did, what we said . . .”

  “Dean,” Frank interrupted again.

  “Frank, I thought you would like that. What’s wrong?” Dean watched Frank point and he turned around. Ellen stood there. “El.” He grew a little nervous. “Look, I don’t want you to think we were . . .”

  “. . . plotting,” Frank interjected. “We weren’t. We weren’t setting up your life. We were . . .”

  Dean finished the sentence. “Talking hypothetically. Nothing’s taken for granted.”

  Ellen nodded. “I know. I heard. I’m not mad. I’m leaving. I wanted you to know. Don’t be too long, Dean.”

  “I won’t.”

  With a gentle smile, Ellen stepped away, stopped, and returned. “Just so you two know, things would be different. They really would if other things were different.”

  Frank nodded. “Elliott.”

  “Yes,” Ellen answered. “ I don’t want you to think I’m with him out of pity. I’m not. It’s just that Elliott is different and . . .”

  “El,” Frank interrupted her. “Look. We know what kind of relationship you have with Elliott. At least I do. And with all that’s happening in his life, know I’m O.K. with it.”

  “Thanks, Frank.” Ellen smiled, looked at Dean, and then walked away.

  Slowly Dean turned to Frank. “You sounded sincere.”

  “I was,” Frank said sadly. “I mean, I like the guy. I feel bad about him. He’s got a tough road ahead and if El can make it easier, let her. The world’s bad enough as it is without having to die alone.”

  “You’re not threatened by Elliott Ryder? You of all people aren’t threatened?” Dean found it hard to believe.

  “Nope, not in the least. They aren’t physical, Dean. And if they are, it’s not much. You know.” Frank shrugged. “I’ve talked to El about it. I’ve watched her with him. If you talk to her about Elliott and watch her, you won’t be threatened by him either.”

  “Frank, I’m impressed. If you aren’t threatened, then I’m not seeing something.”

  “You aren’t. So, speaking of . . . of Elliott.” Frank’s voice grew sadder. “How is he, Dean?”

  “As you know, he’s coming in for some pretty in-depth treatments. He’ll get really sick.”

  Frank slowly, very slowly, shook his head.

  “But . . .” Dean’s voice lifted and he stood straight. “We’re hopeful.”

  “You should be.”

  “Yes and with reason. We had progress with the last treatment. You’ll like hearing this. I think, now I think, mind you, that the last set of treatments could have added another three months on to his life.”

  Slowly Frank looked up. He said nothing.

  “Frank?”

  “Fuck,” Frank snapped.

  “What?”

  “Fuck!” His hand cut through the air in frustration. “Now this messes everything up.”

  “What?”Dean snickered. “I thought you wanted to hear that good news. I thought you liked the . . . Oh . . . oh I get it. It was an act. You are threatened by him.”

  “No, I’m not,” Frank defended. “I just didn’t plan on him being long term with El, that’s all.”

  It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to Dean, but it did. Too shocked to say anything in response to Frank’s comment, Dean merely smiled, lifted his hand in a wave, and walked out.

  ^^^^

  “Have a seat.” Joe closed his office door and pointed to a chair for Henry.

  “Is this official, Joe?”

  “Excuse me?” Joe walked around to his desk and sat down.

  “Is this official? Investigation things, you know.”

  “No.” Joe shook his head. “We hope to start questioning and stuff tomorrow. No, Henry . . .” Joe leaned back in the chair. “This is about you.”

  “What did I do?”

  “Is everything all right?”

  Henry shrugged. “I guess.”

  “Robbie says you’re not the same.”

  “How does Robbie know?” Henry snapped. “I never see him. He doesn’t come to Mechanics.”

  “He says he does. There’s no work.”

  “There’s lots of work.”

  Joe lifted his hands. “I told him that. He said that you’re doing it all.”

  “He’s lying.”

  “Is Danny Hoi lying too?” Joe asked. “He said the same thing.”

  “I guess I’ve been throwing myself into my work.”

  “Is there something on your mind?” Joe questioned. “Henry, I have to be concerned. I am gonna be wrapped up in the investigation. I need to know that you’re all right with running things here if need be.”

  “I am,” Henry said. “Andrea has been heavy on my mind, that’s all. More than anything else.”

  “I understand that, I do,” Joe said. “But talk to people. Don’t shut yourself out.”

  “I’m not,” Henry replied.

  “Really? Ellen says you haven’t talked to her. In fact I haven’t seen you speak to anyone but Hector.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Henry snapped.

  “Easy.” Joe held up his hand. “I was merely . . .” Static from the radio and a call of his name interrupted Joe. “Hold on.” He picked up the radio and pressed in the button. “Yeah, Dean?”

  “Joe, you and Frank may want to get down here.”

  “Why, is there a problem?”

  “It’s hard to say. You can determine that. John Matoose has come out of it. He’s awake, alert, and talking.”

  Joe sprang up. “I’m on my way.” He hooked the radio to his belt. “Henry, do you mind?”

  “No, not at all.”

  “Thanks.” Joe walked by him and laid a hand
on his shoulder. “Just know, if you need to talk, I’m here.”

  Henry nodded. His stares stayed forward and he remained in that chair even after the office door had closed and Joe was gone. He was glad Joe didn’t talk to him any further. Henry wasn’t in the mood to talk and he knew he would end up doing just that if he stayed in the same room as Joe for very long. Stepping into Joe’s office was like stepping into a confessional. No matter how hard Henry tried to withhold information, the guilt factor took over and he ended up purging his soul.

  ^^^^

  “Any numbness?” Dean asked as he held onto John’s ankle.

  “None,” John answered. He cleared his throat. “My throat is sore.”

  “It will be for a little bit,” Dean explained. He looked up to Ellen who was gathering up all the medical equipment that was attached to John. “El, do his vitals again, please. John, if I position you upright do you think you can handle it?”

  John nodded.

  Dean used the control on the bed and placed the bed in a sitting position. “How’s that?”

  “I’m a little dizzy, but I think I’ll be fine.”

  “El, how are his vitals?”

  Ellen took the stethoscope from her ears. “Everything is good. Blood pressure normal, pulse normal.”

  John shifted his eyes from Ellen to Dean. “After the surgery, I remember the concern, but . . . but you guys have to know. It wasn’t being shot that made me like I was. Little by little I was injected.”

  Dean moved closer to the bed. “So you know who did it to you.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Who?”

  John swallowed. “Dean, I’m scared to say . . .”

  “Why is that?” Joe asked when he stepped inside. “Why are you scared to say?”

  John glanced around the room at Ellen, Dean, Joe, and Frank,. “I’m afraid for Jenny.”

  Slowly Joe walked to the bed. “John, I promise you nothing will happen to your family. Who injected you?”

  “Joe,” Dean said with a whisper. “El and I will leave you and Frank alone with him.”

  “You sure?” Joe asked.

  “Yeah,” Dean replied. “I can finish the medical aspect later. Besides, Hal and Elliott pulled through the front gate a couple minutes ago. We should go. El?”

  Ellen nodded and followed Dean out. She stopped in the hall and looked back in. After a glance, she walked on. “I’m glad we got out of there.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I didn’t want to hear in case . . . in case he said Andrea did it.”

  Dean paused in his walking. “I don’t think he will, El.”

  Sighing out, Ellen nodded. “Neither do I, but it would just be par for the course in more tarnishing of her . . .” She stopped.

  “What’s wrong?” Dean asked then noticed where they were.

  Ellen stared into Andrea’s office. “It feels so funny not waving to her when I walk by. I miss her, Dean.”

  “I know.”

  “You know what? I just realized something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “No one got to say goodbye to her.”

  “El,” Dean’s voice cracked. “Andrea admitted to . . .”

  “Who cares? You know what I’m gonna do? I’m gonna make sure everyone gets a chance to say goodbye to her. Joe’s probably been so busy. That’s why he didn’t think of it. I’m gonna do it for him.”

  “Do what?”

  “Plan a memorial service for Andrea, a goodbye to a woman people really cared about. Yeah.” Ellen smiled. “I’ll do that. You’ll come right?”

  “Ellen, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Then don’t come.” Ellen flung her hand at him and started to walk away. “Everyone else will anyhow.”

  Dean looked back into Andrea’s office. “Let’s hope you’re right.”

  ^^^^

  Silence.

  “John.” Frank moved closer to his bed. “Tell me. Who injected you?”

  “It’s been happening for a while. It was mild at first, you know, making it hard for me to talk, breathe, or move. Then I got hit, big time.”

  “Who?” Frank asked.

  John had a choice. Right then and there he could spill his guts. What good would it do him? He’d have to fear for Jenny’s life and he still didn’t know if anyone else was working for George in Beginnings. As much as John wanted to blurt out the name of Johnny Slagel, he was in the room with Johnny’s grandfather and father. There would be a certain amount of disbelief. John decided if Johnny Slagel was going to go down, he would go down with everyone watching and without doubt in anyone’s mind. That would be the only right way. “Bev.”

  Joe’s eyes closed and he nodded. “Well, you don’t have to fear about her. She’s gone. Dead.”

  “So you guys found her out?”

  “Nope,” Frank answered. “Someone else did the honors for us. Did you know about her?”

  “No,” John answered. “I suspected because of the trouble she was starting, and with who. That’s why I put her on the list that I gave you, Joe. But what would the connection be?”

  “How about the fact that she was George’s daughter?” Joe told him.

  “Oh my God.” He was pummeled. John didn’t know.

  “John, do you know of anyone else that is working for the Society?” Joe asked.

  “Joe, I swear, if I knew, I’d tell you. I don’t want to leave Beginnings. I want to stay. And I want to help bring the Society down. I will.”

  Pacing a little, Joe stopped. “John, Rev. Bob gave a whole list of names of people who worked for the Society and . . .”

  “Rev. Bob?” John asked. “How did he find out?”

  Frank quickly looked at his father then to John. “You don’t know about Rev. Bob? He was working for George as well.”

  “No. No, I didn’t know.”

  “What about Andrea?” Joe questioned. “Do you know anything about her?” Joe saw the lost look on John’s face. “John, Andrea was turned in by Rev. Bob as a traitor. She was found guilty in a trial and sentenced to death.”

  John’s eyes widened. “Then you have to stop it, Joe. Stop it.”

  “It’s too late,” Joe said.

  “No.” John grew emotional. “No. A mistake was made. There is no way Andrea is a part of working for the Society. No way.”

  “Why are you so adamant?” Joe asked.

  “Because, Joe . . .” John stared down at his hands. “Remember after George escaped. It was after the Salicain incident with you, when Frank and Robbie were in holding.”

  “Yes,” Joe said. “What about it/”

  “Ellen started her accusing, you know. Well, one day, Andrea pulled me aside. She said she heard Ellen rambling on about it and Andrea, in her Andrea way grabbed hold of my arm and used that tone only she could use. I still remember the look in her eye. She said the Christian woman in her was going to believe whatever I say, but if she ever found out I was helping George, or working for him, she would personally make me suffer like everyone else in Beginnings did.” John looked up. “No, Joe. I believed Andrea. If she was working for George she wouldn’t have been so . . . so serious at that moment and deadly.”

  “Do me a favor.” Joe dropped his voice. “What you just told me doesn’t leave this room.”

  “But, why Joe, you would think . . .”

  “Just.” Joe held up his hand. “Just not yet. O.K.?” Joe received an acknowledgment nod from John. “All right then, we’ll . . .” There was a loud ‘BOOM’ in the distance. Shocking and loud, it vibrated the ground and made Joe jolt. “What in Christ’s name?” Surprised he looked at Frank when he heard an excited. ‘Yes.’. “Frank?”

  Frank smiled. “Oh, yeah. My bear.” He backed up. “I’ll be right back.”

  Joe tossed up his hands when Frank darted from the room.

  Hal and Elliott scurried at the sound of the explosion. Just when the meeting between them, Dean, and Ellen started, the explosio
n rocked Beginnings. Moving to the lab door, they heard Frank’s voice booming down the hall.

  “No,” Frank spoke. “No, it’s all right. Stay away from the back gate. There’s no invasion. Trust me.”

  “Frank.” Hal raced into the hall. “Is everything all right? Do you need help?”

  “No,” Frank spoke as he moved toward the main doors. “I think I got my bear.” He stopped before he flung open the doors. “Oh, Hal, no beating up Dean.”

  Hal let out a huff of disgust them looked at Elliott who laughed. “I’m not living that down, am I?”

  “Nope.”

  “Shall we?” Hal pointed back in the lab.

  Elliott only nodded.

  Dean stood with Ellen at the counter, waiting on the pair. “If we can get started again.”

  Hal shut the lab door then followed Elliott to the counter where they sat down. “Sorry, Dr. Hayes.”

  “I understand,” Dean said. “It’s an inbred Slagel reaction to jump at the sound of danger.” He shifted his eyes to Ellen. “All right. We might as well start.” He waited for Ellen to sit then he too took a seat. “The reason I wanted to have this little discussion before hand is because I wanted to make sure you understood everything, Elliott.”

  “I think I do,” Elliott responded.

  “Do you?” Dean asked. “Let me go over it again. The treatments we gave you before worked, but there is a lot of the sickness that still remains and grows in your body. If I were talking percentages, realistically and coldly, I would tell you we only conquered two percent of the battle. But . . . analogically speaking, let’s say the treatment we used prior was an old fashion hand gun and the cancer was a platoon. We shot at it and did the best we could with the limited firepower and ammunition we had. Now . . .” Dean let out a breath. “What we want to do, and using the same analogy, is go after the platoon again but this time, instead of a handgun, we’re using . . .” He shrugged. “Napalm.”

  “Will this strength be normal procedure?” Elliott asked.

  Dean shook his head. “This is a special sequence of procedures. We want to hit it hard then we can go into a less severe means of fighting it. Normal treatments. We need to gain some ground with you. We found it so late that we want to give ourselves a fighting chance. If we would stay on route with the lesser treatments without doing this, we wouldn’t gain. Understand? For every step we knock it back, in a short period of time it will gain two. With this series of treatments, we hope to knock the malignancy back a good twenty steps.”