“I just want my happy mood back.” Ellen looked up to him as he stood right before her.
“And this reality you won’t talk about is prohibiting that?”
“Yes. We were putting up Christmas decorations and arguing. I don’t even feel like doing that now because . . . because not long after Christmas, I’m not going to be here, will I? It’s snowing. I’ll be out there. Far away. I’ll be away from my family, unprotected by Beginnings, and alone.”
“Ellen.” Elliott leaned down toward her and softened his voice. “Yes, you will be from your family, but you will not be far. The Captain and I are making sure of that. Cold. No. Unprotected and alone . . . never.”
Ellen smiled slightly.
“It really it is some time away. Please do not worry about that now. Worry about your . . .” Elliott snickered. “Christmas lights?”
Ellen grumbled, “Dean is being a jerk about them. He won’t put them up.” She huffed out in disbelief, “You know, it’s times like this he doesn’t deserve the name Henry gave him of Futomara.” Glancing up, she noticed the restrained look on Elliott’s face. “What?”
“Andrea was just using that word.”
“Yes, well, Andrea is in love with that word. She even posted a memo at the clinic suggesting that we should stop, take a moment, and really use that word more often because we all need a Futomara now and then to . . .” Ellen stopped when Elliott laughed. And Elliott didn’t just laugh. He laughed harder than she had ever heard him. “Elliott?” She slowly stood up. “What in the world is so funny?”
“Would you like to laugh as well?” Elliott asked. “I can guarantee, right now, you will.”
“You can’t.”
“Care to wager?”
Ellen extended her hand to Elliott. “You’re on. Make me laugh.”
“You must keep it a secret or it won’t be so funny.”
“You’re stalling.” Ellen waved him on to hurry. “Go on.” With her sternest of looks, tightly folded her arms, and bad mood, Ellen was determined not to laugh. That was broken the second Elliott whispered in her ear the true meaning of the newest rave word of Beginnings.
CHAPTER FOUR
Quantico Marine Headquarters
December 9th
All George could picture in his mind was Johnny. Though stabilized and given an optimistic prognosis, Johnny was still far from out of the woods. It could be days or even weeks before Johnny was well enough to even speak. George was really worried about Johnny, but even more concerned for his daughter especially since he was clueless on her whereabouts.
The silent phone called to him because he knew a lot of answers could possibly be found just by dialing.
“They knew of the traitor,” Steward Lange said as he entered into George’s office and caught the leader staring at the phone.
“Excuse me?” George asked.
“They knew there was a traitor. They just didn’t know who. That probably was the reason that the phones were down. Now Johnny’s gone and the phones are back up.” Steward laid some files on George’s desk. “We have Jess Boyens’ number. We could give him a call. Last we knew, things were in progress with him.”
George shook his head. “The trouble only went down a couple of days ago. Beginnings is going to be closely watching communications. I expect to hear from Jess soon enough. Probably as soon as the smoke clears some.”
“You could call Joe Slagel to ask about Bev.”
“And tip him off since Johnny couldn’t get her out of there. Johnny was shot. Things got hot. He may not have been able to safely get Bev from Beginnings. She may be there. I don’t want to rouse any suspicion. We wait.”
“Understandable. Sir . . .” Steward said. “On a similar subject, the guard says disturbance at the house is up . . .” Steward’s mouth paused in its opening when George held up his hand. “Yes?”
“Don’t say the name,” George instructed. “I don’t want my day ruined. Just say . . . IT.”
Steward blinked. “I hate to sound disrespectful, but . . . . It . . . is demanding to speak to you. Violently demanding.”
“Goddamn hell cat. Send word to It that I will be by.” George noticed the folders. “What are these?”
“You have to choose a new head of Military. Since Sgt. Doyle’s defecting, I believe leaving this alone in your hands is a little much. You have the other things to run. Winter’s coming. We’ve located four new towns that we’ve brought into our domain. We’re receiving resistance from a couple areas. We’ve not pushed the issue yet. There are border conflicts and such with them.”
“Why aren’t we concentrating on just wiping them out?”
“Because there is only a problem when we trample on their domain. Basically there is no trouble when we leave them alone. It is becoming increasingly evident that we still have a lot of this side of the country to secure. Since the threat of Savages has been wiped out, people now are coming out, so to speak.”
“Well, searching them out ‘only’ is what we’ll do. We’ll figure out where they are, target areas, and hold off until after winter. Let’s concentrate right now on strengthening what we have.”
“I one hundred percent agree. The Society took off faster than we originally anticipated.”
“How in God’s name can you say that?” George asked. “It’s eight and a half years after the plague.”
“True. But, really it’s only been a little over a year since we moved the plan into effect. We got ahead of our projections for the year time frame. It’s not in our best interest to lose control of what we have. That’s why I suggested those.” Steward pointed to the folders. “You also know your plan of action for next spring for the overseas movement. You’ll need him for that. The scouting ships are ready. I know you want to launch the scouting movement soon.”
“Yes, I do. Of course, it would be a lot easier, now wouldn’t it, if I just had Beginnings? I wouldn’t need the scout ships. I could look on a damn board and see where civilization is over there.”
“Fortunately for us, Beginnings hasn’t any idea they have that ability.”
“That’s because they didn’t hook the damn thing up correctly.” George breathed out “All right. I’ll review your candidates and get back to you on which ones I want to meet.”
“Thank you. I’ll go speak to . . . It.” Steward walked to the door.
Hands moving in a glance of names, George stopped. “Stew.”
“Yes.” Steward turned around.
George lifted up a folder slowly. It was very thick. With intimidation George raised his eyes. “What were you thinking?”
Steward took a step closer to look at the folder. “Oh, yes, that is . . .”
“Yes, I know,” George interrupted. “No.”
“He has a strong military background. In fact, you know as well as I do, he is responsible for the entire build up of the southern naval region.”
“And he does quite well down there,” George replied. “Away from up here.” He raised his eyebrow. “Up here too many things can slip out.”
“I realize that. But Sgt. Doyle worked for how long with us without knowing . . .”
“No. Good choice, but wrong move. Leave him down there in the dark.” George handed the folder back and got an agreement nod from Steward. “In the dark,” George whispered softy to himself when Steward left. He rubbed his eyes. “Where an ace in the hole has to be.”
^^^^
“They were numbers more than names, Captain.” Sgt. Timothy Doyle walked with his hands behind his back at a slow pace with Hal towards the Jeep. “So I am really unable to tell you if we have any one of importance.”
“You were the head of the military movement.” Hal questioned.
“Yes,” Tim answered. “I designed the training schedule, attack schedules, military movement, and set ups. But who was in charge of what, I had men who handled that. Occasionally names would come across my desk .. .” He shrugged. “But to be honest, I paid no mind. Why?”
“Well, I was hoping being in the service as long as I was and having some stature in Hawaii, that perhaps I recognized a name or two and we could either incorporate them as well or use them.”
“As spies?” Tim asked.
“If need be. How dangerous is that?”
“Unlike Beginnings, a spy isn’t going to be that easy to spot. You have to remember, the Society right now is based on a military strong arm. Building civilization is secondary. They believe that will come. So you have agriculture, technology, medical, transportation, and military. I can tell you the size of recruits is very well into five digits.”
“I see.” Hal exhaled as he took in another look around. “Your men are doing a good job. They’re moving fast on building up this area.”
“We’re trying. We’re. . . We’re bored,” Tim replied.
“We’ll need your men for the Texas town move. Perhaps that will helps some.”
“We look forward to some winter strategy games with General Slagel.”
Hal blinked. “General Slagel?”
“Your brother.”
“That asshole.” Hal shook his head. “Did he tell you that?”
“Yes.”
Hal grumbled. “Call him Frank.”
“But, sir, wouldn’t that be disrespectful of a man of his position and caliber.”
Pausing to think about what Tim had said, Hal agreed. “You’re correct. You, Sgt. Doyle, may call him Frank. The others, yes have them show him the respect that they show you, me, and my father.” He winked with a nod. “Frank has done a lot. Don’t let him know I said that.” He began to embark into his Jeep and stopped. “One more thing. You will pick out the first fifty men to be trained for the UWA?”
“Yes, sir.” Tim nodded. “I will hand pick them for the recruit. However, I would also like to have some sort of training in the UWA style.”
“Then you will be more than welcome to join in,” Hal told him. “But you will be busy. You know what I have in mind.”
“I do.”
Bodily dramatic, Hal brought in a loud whiff of air. “It’s like the onset of a strong winter season. You can smell it in the air, can’t you? Lingering. Waiting.” Hal grinned. “War.”
Tim chuckled. “When we are on the verge of boredom, stagnancy, and repetition, sometimes we find ourselves on the verge of wishful thinking. Is it the aroma or wishful thinking, Captain?”
“Perhaps a little of both.” Hal winked and got into the Jeep. “Perhaps not.”
^^^^
Boulder, Colorado
The young man had spewed forth the forbidden word more than once on his journey. Had he been back in Sanctuary City, he surely would have been made to pay the price, o matter his young age of eighteen years or not.
But he couldn’t help it. His anger caused the word to slip out. It was anger at his own stupidity. How did he miss the state called Montana? The people in the town--he was told was in the state of Texas--gave him a map of the country. A map with cities, mountains, and parks. If nothing else, that would give him direction, or so he thought.
It was cold and he stared past his campfire to the mountains that deceived him. He swore they were the same mountains in Montana, but somewhere he got lost. He was way off course.
In the place called North Dakota, he was close. He found the clues he needed that would take him to Utopia. He even found the name of it. Unfortunately, he could not match up the spelling with any city name on the map.
But to him, Utopia had to be huge. It should be hard to miss, but how wrong he was. The young man only wished he would have been as rebellious in Sanctuary City as some of his peers. Sneaking off after hours and reviewing books and keeping fresh the ability to read, instead of fearing repercussions of God for using his eyes and mind for interpreting the forbidden words that were only to be conveyed by the elders.
Reading.
How badly he longed for the ability to know more words. He was the only one of the rebels with the courage to break away. How much the knowledge of words would aid in his courage to seek out Utopia.
He would try again the next day by turning around and taking the road back. It would be slower and the horse didn’t move as fast as the cycle he found. The horse also needed rest.
Though failing at the moment to live up to the name he so proudly gave himself of Christopher Columbus, he was bound to be a great explorer. No matter what or how long, no matter how much a tale, like his namesake, Christopher would search out Utopia until he found it in a place called Beginnings, Montana.
^^^^
So unsure, Elliott walked with Robbie and watched him push what looked like a covered lawnmower. They passed through the gate of Sector Twenty just outside the fields. “And you are sure this is safe?”
“Um . . .” Robbie stopped moving. “Yeah, pretty sure.”
“Pretty sure?” Elliott set down the huge rabbit cage he carried.
“We’re fine. We’re close to the gate and Security knows we’re here. The can charge up the electric fence like . . .” Robbie paused. “I’d snap but my free hand is occupied.” He snickered. “All right. You know the age old saying, ‘to beat your enemy you must know your enemy’?”
“Yes.”
“Well in order for you to be the standing FMM and conquer the small predators . . .”
“Small predators?”
“PC word for killer babies,” Robbie nodded. “In order for you to be as effective as Frank, you have to know them like Frank, so that is what we will learn first.”
“But we need to get rid of the problem or at least lower the population.”
“We will. First thing first. We can post the extra guard, keep them fed, and so forth.” Robbie pulled the cover off of the contraption he so proudly hid. “Now, for this. It’s Frank’s design and quite brilliant, I think.”
“What is it?” Elliott asked.
“Here, I’ll show you. You may find yourself wanting to use it. Can you hand me one of those rabbits, please?” Robbie watched Elliott bend down to the cage. “Oh, if Dean asks, we didn’t have rabbits today. He gets jacked when Frank and I steal his. He does that ‘hunt your own’ thing.”
Bundled in straps with its arms and legs tied to its body, the rabbit squirmed as Elliott gave it to Robbie. “Can I ask why you tie them?”
“Sure. Watch.” Robbie brought the rabbit to the arm of the unit. He laid it in what looked like a scoop. “This is a mini catapult, so to speak. They fit real nice when they are tied up. They can’t jump out and . . . if their little arms and legs are flapping about, it really messes up the aerodynamics of it all. Now for the coolest demonstration.” Robbie walked around the other side of the contraption and wound it up. “Tension is good. See this foot pedal. It ejects . . .” He pointed out into the field. “Now watch.”
A slam of his foot caused a shift of the mechanism and the arm ejected forward, sailing the bound bunny high and far in the air towards the tall weeds of the field. Just as the rabbit reached center, before gravity could pull it down, a loud rustle of leaves rang out and with a unison of loud gurgling, a cloud of flesh shot from the grass and snatched up the bunny mid flight.
Only a small amount of blood spewed up.
“Cool huh?” Robbie grabbed the other rabbit, set it in the arm, pumped it up, and shot it. “Again . . .”
Elliott blinked long in shock when he watched the second rabbit disappear. “Oh, my God. Frank invented this to feed them?”
“Um, no.” Robbie shook his head. “Frank invented this for amusement, but I guess it works to send them a snack.”
“This is amazing,” Elliott said in astonishment.
“Yeah. I thought it would help let you know them visually and let you get to hear them. See how they run about, um, fifty five miles per hour.”
“They run fifty-five miles per hour? How do you out run them.”
“As best you can. It’s difficult, but it gives a rush. Trust me. It’s fun,” Robbie said. “All this ki
ller baby training will help you out.”
“I’m sure. Is there anything vital you need to tell me?”
“Oh, yeah.” Robbie spoke calmly as he peered out to the field. “Know when to . . . run.”
“Ok.”
“No, Elliott. Run.”
Just as he was about to say ‘OK’ again, Elliott caught the rapid motion of a leaving Robbie through his peripheral vision. Curious, thinking Robbie was joking, he peered back to the field to see the high waves of grass rippling and moving at him at an astronomical speed. “Oh, shit.” He jolted in a spin and took off running. He didn’t look back. The sounds of the gurgling grew louder and with a strong leap, Elliott flew through the gate and slammed it shut. The second it latched, a killer baby leaped up fast and furious. The saliva filled jaws sneered and snipped for Elliott as its little claws clung to the fence.
“I never say this.” Elliott with his eyes on the creature, backed up. “But . . .”
Before he could get the word out, another then another slammed their bodies at the gate in an attempt to get in.
“Say it now,” Robbie instructed.
“Fuck.” Elliott stared at the eight babies clinging to the fence and trying to eat their way in.
“Watch this.” Robbie pulled the radio close. “Perimeter Twenty up.”
The shift and hum of the electrical current was overshadowed by the sizzle and screams as the eight small predators were zapped, fried, and shot from the fence.
With a chuckle, Robbie gave a swat to Elliott’s back. “Well, that was lesson one. Shall we continue?” He turned and walked to the waiting Jeep. “I’ll get the feeding catapult later.”
“Where to now?” Elliott asked.
“Now, you’ll get to meet the ones Frank and I trained.”
As he stepped into the Jeep, Elliot thought at that moment he had seen it all but obviously he hadn’t. He was about to see the trained killer babies.
^^^^
Had Joe been paying attention to the sound of the light tap, he wouldn’t have called out his typical ‘come in’ in immediate response to the knock on the door. Sitting behind his desk, he raised his eyes over the rims of his glasses as the door opened. “Get out.”
The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20 Page 228