The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20

by Jacqueline Druga

  Steady. Steady. Steady . . .

  It was loud. It was blunt. But more than that, it was all too frighteningly familiar.

  “Dean!”

  Crash!

  Dean froze and stared at the back wall. “No,” he whispered out. “I’m not that good to heal . . .” He turned around and no words, just a short peep, escaped him in shock when he saw Elliott.

  “Dean,” Elliott spoke so unlike himself. Gone was the smooth edge. His voice was raspy and deep. He stood with an arrogant lean and his hand was on his hip. “Things are supposed to stay in your fuckin hands.”

  “El . . . El . . .” Dean blinked. The goatee. The short, flattened black hair, white tee shirt, fatigues four gas cans around his waist, and he wore that stupid hunting knife strapped to his thigh.

  Elliott pivoted, looking behind him to his left and right. His combat boots squeaked with every turn. “What?”

  “You look like Frank.”

  “I do.”

  “That is amazing.” Dean stepped to him.

  “I am.”

  Dean laughed loudly. “Hal’s plan?”

  “Fuckin Hal.” Elliott shook his head. “I’m going to see Frank.” He pointed back with is thumb. “Is that OK?’

  “Um, yeah. Sure. Oh, hey, Elliott. Wait.”

  Elliott stopped with another squeak of his boots. “Yeah?”

  “Let me watch you walk.” Dean hurried to the door.

  “Just don’t stare at my butt.” Elliott gave a wink and headed out.

  He leaned against the archway, totally amused with his arms crossed and totally amused and watched Elliott. He had it. He pegged it, that walk that only Frank could do. Dean had to admit to himself he really enjoyed watching it. Loud, strong, and egotistical, Elliott strutted down the hall. Dean couldn’t help but laugh out loud when just before turning the bend, Elliott stopped and, in such Frank fashion, looked back, glanced down to his own rear, shook his head, then continued on.

  Frank was grateful for the upper positioning of his bed. At least when he opened his eyes he didn’t have to strain to see who was near him and he didn’t have to look at the ceiling. However, his newest view drove him insane and there was nothing he could do about it except close his eyes.

  It made him want to kill Hal, because he knew it was all his brother’s doing. It made him want to kill Dean because he placed him under the Salicain. Those were two of the people Frank had mentally placed on his growing ‘people to kill list’ for when he came out of the Salicain. Thinking of that list was something that filled Frank with a sense of pleasantry, but the pleasant thought of that list was short lived.

  The poster.

  Hal had placed a poster on the wall directly in Frank’s line of view. If Frank had to stare at a blonde with long flowing hair, why did it have to be Olivia Newton John in her virgin years? She looked pretty hot when she turned into the bad girl in that one movie about being slick, but the poster only reminded him of all the songs she sang that he hated.

  Then Bam.

  It hit Frank right then and there why Hal had taken on the look he did.

  Hal had a slightly demented obsession and kinship with Olivia. Both had long blonde hair and both were virgins late in life only Olivia gave it up long before Hal did. Actually, Frank was still convinced Hal may never have given it up. Perhaps he was waiting on Olivia.

  Chuckling at his own thoughts of a Hal intimate bathroom moment thinking of Olivia, Frank lost his inner smile when Elliott Ryder walked into the room.

  “Fuck.”

  “Fuck.” The word rolled with a Frank imitation from Elliott’s mouth when he looked at the poster.

  Frank watched Elliott. There was something about him that looked different, even vaguely familiar and he couldn’t put his finger on it.

  “Man,” Elliott pointed to the poster. “Olivia Newton John? Fuckin Hal. That had to be fuckin Hal. You know he probably fantasizes about her. I hated her songs.”

  What was it? There was definitely something comforting about Elliott.

  Elliott walked to the bed. “Hey, Frank. I just stopped in to say hi. I’ve been filling in for you and chasing fuckin killer babies. Or shall I say, small predators.”

  Elliott sounded a little different. Tough, perhaps.

  “What a fuckin blast.” Elliott smiled.

  Frank almost had it. It was right on the tip of his tongue.

  “Everyone’s been calling me a mini-you. Of course, I’m not that much smaller than you.”

  What was it? Frank dove into deeper thought.

  “Fuckin Dean. I went in to check to see if it was OK to come in here. He dropped everything.” Elliott laughed. “Of course, I did this . . .” Loudly, Elliott yelled out. “Dean!”

  Frank blinked. “That sounds like what I do.”

  “Then I kind of scared him cause of how I look. I have to tell you, it’s great being you.”

  “It would be . . . Uh!” Frank got it. “That’s it. Uh! You sound like me! No. Wait. Uh! You look just like me!” He calmed down some. “Whoa. Wait. Hmm. Now that’s a handsome guy.” In his mind, he laughed. “This is pretty good. Finally Sgt. Fuckin Ryder comes to his senses and makes a good fashion choice.”

  “Being you has its perks.”

  “It would.”

  “I got a SUT today.”

  “No shit. Fuck, I missed it.”

  “I was also chasing killer babies. No luck.”

  “Did you try luring them with Journey songs?”

  “Maybe tomorrow I’ll try luring them with Journey songs.”

  “Ha!” If Frank’s smile could be seen, it would have. “There’s those telepathic powers of persuasion. Man, I could be the next ultimate weapon. Frank Slagel, master manipulator.”

  “And then . . .”

  “Elliott?” Ellen called out pleasantly and with such surprise, almost too much surprise, when she walked in the room.

  “El,” Elliott spoke it like Frank.

  “El?” Frank questioned. “When do you call her . . . oh, I get it. You’re being me.”

  “Oh, wow,” Ellen spoke in awe.

  Frank watched. “El? Hello? I’m right here.”

  “You look incredible,” Ellen wisped out.

  Frank grumbled. “Hello!”

  “I do.” Elliott came back.

  Ellen snickered. “It’s like, if you’ll forgive me, it’s like having Frank right here.”

  “I am!” Frank blasted. “I’m right fuckin here. Turn your head. Hello!”

  “Wow.” Ellen walked closer to Elliott. “You’re so handsome. Say my name like him again.”

  “El.”

  “Uh!” Frank screamed when he watched Ellen giggle immaturely. “Oh, this is nothing. He can’t say it like me.”

  “You know, Elliott, having this moment alone with you,” Ellen whispered.

  “You’re not alone, El!”

  “You actually have me . . .” She dropped her voice even lower. “A little turned on.”

  Elliott grinned.

  “Oh, get that fuckin look off your face, Ryder. Right fuckin now. Where’s Dean. He has to see this shit. Dean! He’s moving in on our wife.”

  “It’s been . . .” Ellen’s hand crept up Elliott’s chest. “So long since I have had Frank. Feel how firm this chest is. I wonder if you kiss like Frank.”

  “No!” Frank yelled unheard. “Ryder, you fuckin touch her, you’re a dead man when I get out of this bed.”

  Elliott smiled. “Would it be right if I kissed you?”

  “No. No it wouldn’t. Thank you. The chivalrous cavalry wanna be soldier arrives.”

  “Sure, we’re alone.”

  “No, you’re fuckin not!”

  With such Frank mannerisms, Elliott bit his bottom lip, raised his eyebrows, and smiled that ornery smile.

  “Hey!” Frank grew worse. “That’s my look.”

  Ellen smiled. “That is such a Frank look.” She moved even closer against Elliott, pressing to him in Frank�
��s plain view.

  “Read my mind now, Ryder. Read it now. Touch her you’re dead.”

  “Do that look again,” Ellen whispered. “Then kiss me like Frank would. Can you kiss me like Frank would?”

  “Nah.” Elliott shook his head.

  “That’s a fuckin fact,” Frank said.

  “I’ll kiss you better.” Elliott bit his bottom lip again with that smile, then with a rigidness, swept his hand up Ellen’s back, cupped the back of her head and brought her up and to him. His mouth only touched briefly to hers before they turned and moved out of Frank’s view.

  “Uh!” Frank’s eyes bulged. “What the fuck is this shit . . . Ryder, what are you doing. Dean!”

  Exhaling with a moan, Ellen fanned herself dramatically as she stumbled back into Frank’s view to catch her footing, post fake kiss. “Wow. Whew. Thanks. Too bad Dean has me boggled down or I’d suggest we find a clinic room. Frank and I used to . . . never mind.” She giggled and gave a fling of her hand. “Walk me back to the lab.”

  “Absolutely.” Elliott nodded, took Ellen’s hand, and started to leave. He paused with a squeal of his boot, looked back at Frank and winked. “See ya, Frank.”

  “Oh!” Ellen, laughing poked her head back. “Hey, Frank. Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” With a ‘nice poster’ comment, bubbly Ellen left with Elliott.

  Upon their exit, Frank made a mental note, adding Elliott Ryder to his ‘people to kill list’ after he emerged from the Salicain.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Former Quantico Marine Headquarters

  “Seven stitches?” Steward asked George with almost a chuckle.

  “Yes, go on, laugh you asshole.” George touched his bandaged forehead. “A vase and it didn’t even break. It sailed it at me top speed. Christ.” He lowered into his chair in his living room.

  “I warned you there was disruption at the house.”

  “Then why didn’t you get hit with the vase?”

  Steward shrugged. “It . . . likes me.”

  George mocked him, “It likes me.”

  “Sir, in all seriousness, something’s up there.”

  “It is just being it.”

  “No.” Steward shook his head. “Just call it a hunch, OK? Something is going on. I saw three soldiers leaving that house today. They weren’t ordered there. They looked, I don’t know, guilty.”

  “Maybe it’s a sexual thing.”

  “The thought of that doesn’t bother you?” Steward asked.

  “Hell no. They’re out of my hair, so to speak. Goddamn it, my head hurts,” George said disgruntled. “Just . . . just keep a trusted eye on it.”

  “Got it. And . . . . all those applicants I gave you for Sgt. Doyle’s replacement?”

  “I didn’t review them.”

  “There’s no need to.” Steward handed him a folder. “I have our man or shall I say, woman.”

  “What!” George stood up, clutched his head, and moaned. “A woman? Stew, we have no viable women who think. You know as well as I do.”

  “Down south we do.”

  “The ones down south are for standard repopulating. Those are the ones we didn’t ship to the northern fertility breeding facilities. All other viable thinking women are in the science field.”

  “Not this one. Take a look.”

  George opened the folder. “Been hitting the bottle Stew? Sgt. Bert Callahan?”

  “Former Lt. Colonel, United States Marine Corp.”

  “OK. The name is Bert. I’ve been dealing with Callahan for a while. Why wasn’t he on the original candidate review list?”

  “Refused. Didn’t want it. The prime choice, who you won’t consider . . .”

  “For obvious reasons.” George rolled his eyes. “He’s my ace, which he doesn’t know.”

  “Good thing he is so good natured or anyone else deserving of Doyle’s position would be upset. But James was . . .”

  “Get to your point.”

  “Fine. He recommended her.”

  “Him.”

  “Her,” Steward corrected. “As you so much have stated, no one up here gets too personal with anyone down there. Keep it that way. We never got personal with her. We spoke to Callahan through Callahan’s aid. Bert is actually Bertha. Take a look, mid-folder.”

  Flipping through pages, George stopped and whistled. “Did we think she was a man at first?”

  “Most likely, yes.”

  “What a beast of a woman.” George sat back down. “Christ, she frightens me.”

  “She has loads of experience and has done very well with mid region. Shall I bring her up here?”

  “Yes. Get her up here ASAP. Let me meet with her. If for nothing else, perhaps, she can handle it.” Taking another look at the photo, George shuddered then smiled.

  ^^^^

  “I’m working with Majestic now.” With the phone wedged between her shoulder and ear, Ellen squatted on the cryo-lab floor.

  “How’s she doing?” Dean asked, speaking on the other line.

  “Good. She’s staying between the lines. Hold on . . .” Ellen softened and sweetened her voice speaking to the baby rabbit. “Come on, you can do it.” She snapped her fingers. “Dean, she does see me though. I can tell.”

  “Good. Just stay at the finish line. You’re timing her, right?”

  “Yep. I figured it was something to do while waiting on Elliott’s test results.”

  “Thanks for doing that,” Dean said. “Get me the results as soon as you can. Let’s keep our fingers crossed that there isn’t an increase.”

  “A decease would be nice.”

  “A decrease would be beautiful but we won’t see one until we blast him again. Hope for a steady result and we’re successful.”

  “Fingers crossed.” Ellen facially beckoned the rabbit who moved slowly.

  “So when do you think I’ll see you today?” Dean asked.

  “Quality time, brief conversation, or work?”

  “Quality.”

  “Not until I get home which won’t be until after five.”

  “How about I try to get home before seven.”

  Ellen laughed. “Yeah, right. You? You’re always working.”

  “You too.”

  “Not like you.” Ellen looked up when she heard the single beep. “I have to run the results the second time.” She grunted when she stood up. “Ow, my knees. I’m getting old.” Limping she walked to the computer. “Half way there, and . . . so is Majestic.”

  “Half way to the computer?”

  “No,” she laughed. “Halfway through the results.” She clicked on the keyboard. “All right, so back to quality time. When? Last night you were pretty down.”

  “You got mad at me.”

  “You laughed while we were trying to have sex.”

  The flashback of what caused Dean to laugh the night before caused him to chuckle over the phone.

  “You’re doing it again,” Ellen said.

  “I’m sorry. I’ll tell you what? If I’m not done, I’ll just bring home what I can work at in my office there. We’ll get some quality time.”

  “Sounds good.” Ellen walked back to Majestic. “Now back to work. Dean? You don’t think we’re getting too routine that we don’t notice each other do you?”

  “What?” Dean asked with a laugh. “Why would you say that?”

  “Because our life revolves around work. Everything. Are we too routine?”

  “Ellen, that’s just marriage. I’ll talk to you in a bit.”

  “Bye.” Ellen hung up the call and set the phone on the floor. She stared at Majestic and snapped her fingers to call the rabbit. “What do you think? Should marriage be routine?”

  “No,” A male voice responded.

  Ellen looked quickly at the rabbit, then around. “Oh.” She snickered at her confusion. “Elliott.”

  “I heard the voice.” Elliott walked closer. “I didn’t mean to intrude on your conversation with . . .” He froze. “Ellen.”

&n
bsp; “Yes?”

  “Is that a rabbit?”

  “Yes. Dean and I are timing her progress in walking a distance and seeing a finish line. She sees it and is moving well.”

  “Ellen, that rabbit has one eye and three legs.”

  “That’s why we’re timing her.” Ellen moved to the rabbit and lifted her. “But I give up.” She stood and grunted. “It’s taking too long.”

  “Birth defect?”

  “Um, yeah, sure. You can say that.” Ellen placed the rabbit in the cage then picked up her phone off of the floor. “We tried this growth thing on her, an accelerator. We’re using the same sort of concoction on Frank’s gunshot wound, but don’t tell him about the rabbit. We don’t think anything will happen to him and we don’t want him worried.”

  “I should hope not.” Elliott shook his head in amazement.

  “So . . . you said ‘no’.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You said ‘no’. Marriage shouldn’t be routine. Is that what you think?”

  “I think many marriages get routine, but because most couples are, doesn’t mean it should be. Does that make sense?”

  “Kind of. I’ve been married three time and I wasn’t routine with Frank. He’s the only one.”

  “Ellen, on the Frank subject. About today . . .”

  “You looked so good.” Ellen smiled. “And the kiss . . .”

  “That’s the topic.” Elliott ran his hand down his face. “I’m embarrassed. I feel as if I took advantage of the situation.”

  “Don’t be silly. It was a peck and the long kiss was just an illusion. How did you take advantage of the situation?” A long strand of beeps caught Ellen’s attention and she moved to her computer. “Actually, I really enjoyed the . . .”

  Elliott waited. “Prank?”

  “Huh?” Ellen slowly turned her view from the computer to Elliott.

  “You didn’t finish your sentence.”

  “Um . . .” She looked away from Elliott and back to the computer screen. “This can’t be right. No way.” Ellen spoke dazed.

  “What is it?”

  “Your test results.” She sat down and began to work on the computer.