Elliott nodded. “I see. So, if this series is so powerful, and you feel it can be beneficial, why not keep doing it until we get the malignancy under control?”
Dean looked at Ellen then back to Elliott. “We prefer not to do that. See, remember when we did the last series and you experience some illness? Nothing major, just some light nausea, cramping, and headache. Well, we expect you to get much more ill.”
Elliott tossed his hands up. “I can handle it.”
“Very ill,” Dean explained, “at least for the first three days, then it will subside and by the end of the treatments you should be able to take them without any, or minimal, side effects. Or at least side effects you can deal with.”
“Three days,” Elliott spoke. “I can handle three days of illness.”
“Yes,” Dean said, “I know you can, but we prefer to stick with our course of action.”
More than Dean’s words, Ellen’s silence sent warnings to Hal. “My God.” He gasped out. “It could kill him.”
Elliott snickered at what he thought was Hal’s overreaction. “He didn’t say that.”
“He doesn’t need to.” Hal stated, looked at Dean’s whose head was slightly down. “It can kill you. That’s why you don’t want to repeat this treatment over and over.”
Dean let out a breath. “The severity of the side effects may be a lot for Elliott’s body to handle if done repetitively.”
“So you’re saying . . .” Hal wanted to be clear. “You’re saying that one time is fine. He’ll be fine with this one time napalm style treatments.”
“We believe Elliott should be fine with . . .”
“You believe?” Hal interrupted. “You don’t know?”
“Hal,” Dean stated. “The best that I can tell you is . . .”
“The best?” Hal stood up. “You believe? Excuse me, Dr. Hayes, but this is bullshit. You believe the treatments won’t kill him. The best that you can tell me is what? You want to take a shot in the dark, hit him hard, and hope that the treatments don’t kill him before the illness does?”
Dean’s jaw moved with the emotions that raged inside. “Look.” He stood up. “And don’t interrupt me, all right? Here’s the truth. Yes, the treatments may kill him. May. But the illness definitely will if we don’t do something about it. I don’t want to just control this illness like in the old world. I want to beat it. Beat it, Hal. There is a good chance we can but this has to be done.”
Before Hal could say anything, Ellen interjected. “Hal, listen to me,” she spoke softly. “I know you’re concerned for Elliott, but believe me when I tell you, so am I. And trust me.” She closed her eyes. “I would not do anything nor I would support any treatment that I thought would hurt Elliott. I wouldn’t. Dean is confident that this treatment will be safe. I trust him. I’m asking you to do the same.”
Slowly Hal nodded and sat back down. “What about long term effects of these normal treatments. How will they take their toll on him?”
Wanting to roll his eyes at Hal sounding so much like Joe, Dean didn’t. “Chancing a Hal backlash on my choice of wording, I’ll answer you. We hope . . .” Dean held up his hand. “We hope any side effects will be minimal and they shouldn’t have bearing on his normal activity.”
Hal listened and had more to ask. “What about . . .”
“Captain,” Elliott interrupted, “why are you asking all these questions?”
“Because you’re not,” Hal told him. “You’re just nodding and saying, ‘O.K. do what you want with me’ without any regard to the consequences that go along with it. They’ve never done this before.”
“And that . . .” Elliott stated. “Is the reason for my lack of questioning.”
“Excuse me?” Hal asked.
“They’ve never done this,” Elliott said. “I am the first to experience this sort of illness but I assure you, I will not be the last. If I fail to agree to everything they want to try, then I am failing the next person that falls victim to this sickness. So what if I get sick for three days? And so what if the long term effects leave me debilitated? It’s not what I want but it’s what I have to do. In a way, isn’t it my obligation? If my life is extended, yet the quality is gone, then so be it. Though I myself would choose quality of life, I must do this with an open mind and with all willingness, because the nest person just may choose quantity. I’m asking you to say no more about this. Just stand beside me in this fight, like you have in all the others.”
Dean probably didn’t realize he did it, but his eyes rolled when Ellen eluded a soft gasping ‘ah’. He looked at Hal, who slowly stood.
Hal opened his mouth, shut it, and then opened it again. “I hate when you do that. Make those Elliott speeches. Christ.” He shook his head. “All right, I’ll say nothing but don’t bitch to me later. Got that?”
Elliott nodded. “Yes, Captain.”
Dean stood and extended his hand to Elliott. “Thank you for your support on this.” After a firm shake, Dean stepped back. “El and I will finish getting everything ready. Ellen?”
Ellen laid her hand on Elliott’s arm. “We’ll do this. We will.” She smiled then joined Dean.
Walking across the lab, Dean stopped at the door and looked back. “I know you’re nervous and if it makes you feel any better, you’re not alone. So are we.”
Elliott’s mouth dropped opened when Dean and Ellen left.
A look of ornery crossed Hal’s face. “Well, Elliott. They’re nervous too. Does that . . . does that make you feel better?”
Slowly Elliott’s eyes shifted to Hal. “Absolutely not.”
^^^^
“Fuck.” With his hands on his hips, Frank stood in the back gate region and stared at the massacre that remained. He side-stepped out of the way from the piece of intestine that dripped his way off one of the remaining trees.
Disgusted, Joe’s voice came closer. “Oh. Oh, you’d better have a goddamn good reason for this mess.” He scolded when he and Robbie approached Frank.
High-pitched and hyena style was the laugh then emanated from Robbie. “Oh, my God.” He looked around.
“This isn’t funny!” Joe yelled.
“Yeah, it is. Shit.” Robbie laughed. “Watch out, Dad.”
Plop.
“Son of a bitch bastard.” Joe swiped the glob of flesh from his shoulder. “Frank.” He grumbled and peered around. “What in Christ’s name?”
Factual and calm, Frank stated. “Bear hunting.”
“Bear hunting? Bear hunting?”
Frank’s eyes shifted. “Um . . . yeah. It means I was trying to hunt a bear.”
“I know what it mean, you idiot!” Joe blasted. “You didn’t get it!”
Frank cleared his throat. “With all due respect, Dad, look at the destruction. We have yet to determine that I didn’t get the bear.”
“You didn’t,” Joe said.
“We can’t be sure, not without proof.”
“How’s this.” Joe bent down. “Here’s the goddamn antlers.” He whacked Frank with them. “You blew up half the damn back gate region to kill a deer!” He threw the antlers.
“O.K.” Frank held up his hand. “Maybe it was a bit much.”
“A bit much?” Joe growled. “Robert,” He scolded at Robbie’s laughing. “Knock it off. Explosives are your baby. Did you help?”
“He asked,” Robbie defended. “I told him how to do it. That’s all.”
“Who calculated the explosives needed?” Joe asked.
Without hesitation, Frank answered. “I did.”
“Did you add instead of subtract again?” Joe asked so parent like.
“No. I calculated it this big on purpose. Please. It’s basic math,” Frank scoffed.
“And you needed to blow a twenty foot hole in Beginnings?” Joe questioned further.
“Yeah,” Frank answered. “It’s a big bear. Dad, sorry anything smaller wouldn’t have killed an eighty-seven foot bear.”
“Eighty-seven foot bear!” Joe bl
asted. “Robert, quit laughing.”
Robbie stopped snickering. “Wow, Frank, that’s a big bear.”
“Yeah, I told you,” Frank nodded.
“Frank.” Joe rubbed his eyes. “Who told you it was an eighty-seven foot bear.”
“You.”
“Me?” Joe shook his head. “No. I believe I said twenty-foot.”
“Yeah, but it’s fourteen times bigger than me.”
“Frank . . .” Irritated, Joe tried to talk.
“Dean did the math.”
“Frank . . .”
“Man, for a scientist, he sucks.”
“Knock it off!” Joe screamed.
“Hey!” Loudly, Frank blasted back. “Don’t yell at me! I’m trying to protect the fuckin community. That’s my job.”
“To defend against an eighty-seven foot bear?” Joe asked snidely.
“No.” Frank shook his head. “Dean screwed up. Twenty-foot.” He bobbed his head from side to side. “Come to think of it, twenty feet sounds more realistic, doesn’t it, Robbie?”
“Yeah,” Robbie nodded. “I mean, eighty-seven feet would make it bigger than King Kong.”
“Man.” Frank gave a twitch to his head. “Would that be a fuckin blast or what?”
“Frank,” Joe snapped. “Listen to me. There is no bear.”
“Yeah, there is.”
“No, Frank there isn’t.”
“But, Dad you said.”
“Yeah, Dad,” Robbie interjected. “You said.”
“I said there was a bear because . . .” Joe stopped to think and then he remembered why he told Frank that and with that memory came the revelation that Frank had spent his free time chasing the grizzly instead of the mystery man. With a quick look to Robbie, he glanced back at Frank who waited for an answer. “I said there was a bear because there was.”
“I knew it.” Frank threw his hands up. “So why did you say there wasn’t.”
“Well, Frank,” Joe shrugged, “let the truth be known. I like Hal and he wants that bear.”
“Fuck, Dad.” Frank shook his head. “Now is not the time to be playing favorites. Hal sucks. It’s my bear.”
“And . . . and you catch that bear, Frank.” Joe backed up.”Just don’t blow anything else up. I’m heading back in. Robbie, help your brother clean up this mess.”
“I didn’t do it,” Robbie complained.
“You don’t think?” Joe said as he walked backwards. “More than you think, you’re responsible.”
Frank watched his father leave. “What’s he mean by that.”
Robbie shrugged. “Who knows? He’s getting old. Anyhow .” He turned around. “Man, look at the mess.”
“Yeah. But, you have to admit it was a good trap and it worked.”
“That it did.” Robbie grinned as he took in the mess. “Hey, Frank, we should do this more often, just for the hell of it.”
“Yeah, but we really need a reason.”
Robbie bent down and lifted the antlers. “Deer control.”
Frank smiled as he took them. “Oh, yeah. Fuckin apocalypse will make us into real hunters yet.”
^^^^
A part of Johnny felt guilty for taking advantage of his grandfather as he did ,but war was war. He needed to get in touch with George. It didn’t take much to get the key that unlocked the phone. All Johnny had to do was fake a drunk, crash at his grandfather’s, and steal the keys. They were out in the open. Why would his grandfather hide them from his own family? And Johnny did just that but his middle of the might attempt to call George was thwarted by a guard who was hanging out by the office. Knowing that having the keys would be a bonus, Johnny sneaked into Mechanics and made copies. That way he’d have them, at anytime, to get that phone.
Empty.
Joe’s office was empty when Johnny walked in. He knew there was some commotion at the back gate and he wanted to seize the opportunity. No sooner did Johnny pull out the key than he heard the door knob turning and he flew to the back examining room. He waited behind the door until he heard the office door shut and a single cough come from his grandfather. Then he emerged. “Hey Pap.”
Joe jolted just a little. “Oh, hi, John. What’s up?”
“Thought we had some extra slides, you know, but there are none are up here.”
Joe sank into his chair. “Is our Glass division not keeping up?”
“Not really.”
“I’ll get on them.”
“Thanks.” Johnny moved to the door and stopped. “Pap. You all right?”
“Um . . .” Joe’s words drew out. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine. A run in with your father. Christ, does he aggravate me.”
Johnny snickered. “That’s Dad and now he lives with you. Pap? Why is that?”
“Oh, I worry about him. And, well, since you’re part of the investigation team . . . I can tell you, but you say nothing, hear?”
“I won’t.” Johnny held up his hand.
“Jason and I rigged up the time machine and sent your father through to watch Bev’s house the night of her murder. And, I think, think mind you, that he saw who it was.”
“My father knows who killed Bev? Why are we investigating?”
“Because he won’t say. He says he didn’t see, but if you would have seen his demeanor.”
“So he’s protecting whoever it is.”
“May be.”
Johnny nodded. “He may act all right now but eventually it will eat at him.”
“Yep, I’m afraid of that. We know you’re father. So I want to watch him. Plus, with all that’s happened with Andrea, I can use the company.”
“He certainly is a diversion.”
“He certainly is.”
“I’m heading out. Take it easy, Pap.”
“I will.” Joe smiled and lifted a hand in a wave to Johnny.
Stepping from the office, Johnny pulled the door closed and paused on the little step. He may not have gained access to that phone, but he gained knowledge he really needed. If he thought he had an edge in finding Bev’s killer by working on the investigation, he discovered even more of an edge. The key to the shooter was his father. Even though Johnny had distanced himself from his dad and hated him, it was time to get close again to him. Be that friend, that confidant his father really needed. Johnny figured he could lay it on thick, more so with Frank than with anyone else. Frank would never know. In Johnny’s mind, his father was too much of an imbecile to even suspect what Johnny was up to.
CHAPTER SIX
Her fragile little chest still sported the bandage of the injury she received from the Savages. Hal pulled the covers just up to that bandage then tucked them in tight around Alexandra.
She giggled. “Silly. It’s not bedtime yet.”
“I hear . . .” Hal sat on the bed. “That it is constant bed time for you for a while.”
“I’m glad to be out of the hospital.”
“And we’re glad you’re out. You have to get better so you can come visit me for a weekend.”
“I’d like that, Uncle Hal.” Alexandra smiled. “Are you staying tonight?”
“No, I have to get back. In fact . . .” He looked at his watch. “I should be going now.”
“Can you stay for just a little more? Please?”
“Hold on.” Hal stood up, walked to her door, and peered out. He saw Dean and Ellen’s bedroom door was closed. “Yes. Yes I can. I don’t want to leave without saying goodbye to Mommy and Daddy’s other patient.”
“I feel funny about this,” Elliott said with some weakness. He stood in Ellen and Dean’s bedroom by the bed.
“Nonsense,” Ellen told him as she placed an intravenous pole in the corner of the room. “We need you to be comfortable. This is much better than the Clinic.”
“But this is your house. I don’t want to put you out. You and your husband . . .”
“Elliott.” Ellen walked to him. “Are you feeling funny putting me out or are you feeling funny about me and Dean?” she asked. �
��If it makes you feel any better, we won’t be having sex in the next room.”
Elliott’s mouth dropped open.
“That’s what I wanted to hear. Thanks,” Dean said as he emerged from the bathroom.
Ellen shook her head with a smile. “If you must know, Elliott, it was Dean’s idea to have you stay here, so don’t feel funny, all right.”
Dean nodded. “It was. She’s not lying.”
“I’m glad,” Ellen continued. “I want to be here for you. I need to be, so let me.”
“Thank you,” Elliott said.
Dean cleared his throat in the moment of silence. “O.K. Elliott, I put the meds on the sink. However . . .” He laid a bottle down on the night stand with a glass of water. “This should help you rest. Take this first. I need you sleeping. Before you do, are you hungry at all? You haven’t eaten.”
“No.” Elliott shook his head. “My stomach is starting to feel bad. I’d rather not.”
“Understandable,” Dean said.
Ellen reached up and touched Elliott’s neck. “You’re getting warm. How about getting to bed?”
“That might not be a bad idea,” Elliott agreed.
“Good.” Ellen reached for the covers and pulled them down. “Why don’t you get undressed and I’ll help you into bed.” She walked around to the dresser and the stack of clothes that laid there. She searched out night clothes for Elliott. Carrying them to him, she stopped when she saw Elliott just standing there. “Is there something wrong?”
Elliott reached out and took the shorts and tee shirt Ellen held. “I can do this, thanks.”
“Elliott, you have that shunt in your arm,” Ellen explained. “I need to make sure it’s fine after you get changed.”
“I still can manage.”
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