The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20

by Jacqueline Druga

  Jimmy was the oddball. The nerd. After all, according to Hal, Frank, and Robbie, Jimmy was Navy.

  James depicted different. He depicted a typical Frank or Robbie. Jess had yet to see him with a book. If the Society wanted to fake a ‘Jimmy’, why wouldn’t they think he would have the same attitude, mannerisms, and talk like the rest of them. All the Slagels were alike.

  But not according to the Slagels.

  To the brothers, Jimmy was different.

  James was a combination imitation, Frank, Hal, Robbie, and Joe.

  The answer was found and now confirmation was needed. Jess was willing to wager James would give it.

  Thanking the soldier, Jess walked to James. “Hey,” Jess said in a daze while his mind raced for the perfect trigger question.

  “Done?” James asked.

  “Yep.”

  “Find what you needed?”

  “Yep.”

  “What?” James questioned with surprise. “Really? Someone knows something about defectors. Holy shit, I wouldn’t have thought . . .”

  “No. Not answers. You can say I got what I needed.”

  “I’m lost.”

  Jess shrugged. “You probably wouldn’t understand but . . .” With a sigh, Jess pointed to a short, thin young man with red hair. “See that soldier.”

  “Yeah.”

  “He reminded me a lot of my brother. It just felt good for a second.”

  “Hey, I know that,” James said. “You kind of absorb it in.” Oddly, James looked at the guy who appeared nothing like what he’d imagine Jess’s brother to be. “That guy there?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Does he look like your brother?”

  “In a way. More so he acted like Lyle and talked liked him.”

  “Was that particular brother the . . . oddball of the family?” James asked.

  “Yes.” Jess chuckled. “The one of the four that’s different.”

  “There were four of you?”

  “Yep. Four boys.”

  “No shit.” James nodded, impressed. “Hey, we have something in common. I was one of four boys.”

  “No, way. Then I guess you guys had a Lyle too.”

  “What do you mean?” James asked.

  “Well me, Allan, and Luke, we were the tough ones, the fun ones. Lyle, he was more the geek of the group. There’s always one.”

  “Not in our family. All of us were so much alike. You met one . . .” James shrugged. “You met the qualities of us all.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yep, not a geek in the bunch.” James smiled. “Hey, I’m grabbing lunch. Wanna join me?”

  “Um . . . yeah.” Jess nodded. “You go on. I’ll be right there.”

  “Catch you in a bit.” After a rub to his stomach and a flash of a grin, James trotted off.

  Whispering, ‘not a geek in the bunch, huh?’ Jess shook his head with some arrogance. “Asshole,” he murmured. In a sense, Jess was angry that some imposter would even attempt to try to pull off being a Slagel, maybe even a little insulted. But there was one good thing about it. At least Jess didn’t blow his cover by blurting out something he’d end up regretting.

  ^^^^

  ‘He contemplated gas. Delivering an unconscious state made apprehension so much easier but Frank opted for the challenge, the thrill, the chance at death. Danger lurked at every turn.’

  From a stack of paperwork in the cryo-lab, Dean slightly looked over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow.

  ‘He prepared, knowing it could be his last move.’

  “Frank.” Dean turned around. “Who are you talking to?”

  “I’m commentating on your capture.” Frank walked into the lab.

  “My capture?

  “Yes, Dean, your capture.” Frank lifted his finger then spoke into the headset. “I found him. Search is off. I win.”

  Confused, Dean looked at him. “What are you talking about?”

  “The search for you, Dean.” Frank lifted handcuffs. “You escaped from Containment and kidnapped Ellen. Speaking of which . . .” Frank began to search around the lab. He looked under the counter and opened the top shelf above the sink.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Ellen.”

  “She’s not in the cabinet.”

  “Who knows with you?”

  Dean huffed. “I didn’t take her, Frank. She’s with your dad.”

  “Oh. But you still escaped. “

  ”No, I didn’t. Ellen brought me down here to work on something important and I still have . . .” Dean looked at his watch. “Shit. I should have been back up there two hours ago.”

  “Exactly. It’s been a manhunt, Dean.”

  “Shit. I’m sorry.”

  “No, problem. We had fun. So . . . you ready for your therapy today.”

  “I’m not really in the frame of mind.”

  “That’s why we’re doing it.”

  “I mean, I got a lot on my mind to work on.”

  “If you want to work on it without taking a chance on getting shot at, then you need to pass the test my dad is gonna give you.”

  “Can we work on it tonight?” Dean asked.

  “Um . . . yeah. But,” Frank said, “you have to go back up.”

  “I know. I’m done.”

  “Are you down here working with Chris?” Frank asked.

  “Chris?”

  “Columbus. You know one of God’s people.”

  “No, why would you ask?”

  “Well you haven’t been working with him and I don’t see him.”

  Dean paused. “Okay, so then why would you ask?”

  “Because I don’t see him.”

  “If you don’t see him, Frank, why would you ask if I was working with him?”

  “Um, Dean, maybe because he’s the only invisible person in Beginnings.”

  Hesitating, Dean opened his mouth then shut it. “You’re right but he’s not here. I was working on something to do with your son.”

  “That’s right. Not much longer until he wakes up.”

  Dean blinked, “What are you talking about?”

  “Brian. My son.”

  “I’m talking about . . . about . . .” Dean stared. He saw it. Frank didn’t know, or didn’t want to know, and if Frank wasn’t aware of Johnny, perhaps Dean wasn’t the one to tell him.

  “Brian.”

  “Yeah.’

  “Man, you’re absent minded today. Don’t make me worried, Dean. I’m worried enough that this un-freezing thing will fuck up.”

  “Don’t worry Frank.” Dean reached to turn off the computer. “He will wake up fine and healthy.”

  “What about Caroline?”

  “She’ll be fine too.”

  “Have you told Jenny and John?” Frank questioned.

  “Not yet,” Dean replied, “I want to set up a mini clinic down here and nurse them back to full health. I don’t want Jenny to face an ill child. When Jenny finds out, I want Caroline to be in full force.”

  “Hell of a surprise.”

  “You bet.”

  “I envy that.”

  Dean tilted his head. “I was trying to give you that but El ruined it.”

  Frank softly chuckled. “It’s still a hell of a surprise.”

  “It’ll be well worth the wait.”

  Frank exhaled. “Enough time. I have to get back to work and you have to get to Containment.” Frank held out his hand. “Lead the way.”

  Dean walked across the lab.

  “Dean?”

  “Yeah.” Dean slowed at the door.

  “Tell me something about Misha.”

  Dean bit his lip. He closed his eyes, “Misha is . . . Misha . . .” He shifted his eyes and saw, so close to his face, two large fingers in a ‘ready to flick’ mode. “Misha sucks.”

  Frank grinned. “Excellent.”

  “I’m getting better. Your mental therapy is working.”

  “I prefer to call it . . . physical therapy
.” With a laugh, Frank closed the lab door.

  ^^^^

  Ellen’s foot tapped silently on the floor as she bit her nail and watched Joe review what she had given him. “That really was written by Sgt. Doyle,” she spoke on the fast side.

  “I can see that, but . . .”

  “He said he can vouch with his life that Lars is a good guy and this Chief Manis person is a good guy too.”

  “Ellen . . .”

  “There would be no problem with me being there. He assures me that if Lars sent this then this is true.”

  “I realize that, but . . .”

  Ellen continued, “And funny, Tim said, if needed, he would be more than happy to escort me out there. He said he kinda misses Lodi. I wonder . . .”

  “Tim going is all well and fine, however . . .”

  “Did you see what Dean wrote?” Ellen asked.

  Joe rubbed his eyes. “Yes.”

  “He said the tests look legit and he recommends further testing and double testing of what Dr. Rayburn did. Just to be sure, just to determine, if the tumor can be removed.”

  “Ellen . . .”

  “Blood work. Scan. X-rays. Physical work up. EEG . . .” Ellen lifted a finger with each item she named. “Possibly even a biopsy, which would have to be transported back here right away. Well, I guess it could keep. But Dean would want . . .”

  “Ellen.”

  “To look at it. He estimates I would have to be there three days, tops.”

  “Great. Fine.”

  “Thanks, Joe,” Ellen hurriedly stood up.

  “But who’s taking you?”

  Ellen stopped.

  “Ellen?”

  Exhaling Ellen turned back around.

  “Sit.” Joe pointed.

  Ellen moved to the chair.

  “My contingency was Doyle reiterated that no harm could come to you. Dean had to say it was a viable reason to go, and the third. What was the third?”

  “One of your sons had to go with me.”

  “Exactly. Which one of my sons is going?”

  Ellen swallowed hard, her eyes peered up then with a heavy breath, she shook her head.

  “None, huh?”

  Robbie’s voice responded. “That’s not true.”

  Ellen quickly looked to see Robbie shutting the office door. “Robbie?”

  “Robert.”

  “Dad . . . I’ll take her to Lodi.” Robbie walked further in. “I gave it thought. Even though I turned her down at first, there are reasons to go.”

  “It’s Johnny,” Joe said. “You know what he did.”

  “And I heard what Ellen said.” Robbie replied. “If this is true, if Johnny has this tumor, then . . . how much of what he did can we blame on him? I’m not sure I can forget all what happened. To be honest I don’t think I want to. But . . . he’s still family. Blood ties. If his life is in danger and El can help, I’ll do what I can.”

  Ellen gasped out and raced to Robbie embracing him. “Thank you.” She kissed his cheek. “Thank you so much.”

  Robbie nodded.

  “Robert. How are you going to feel about facing Johnny? You go, you will face him.”

  “I know and that’s bridge I cross when I get there.” Robbie stepped back from the embrace. “However, I’m gonna suggest, you, El, get what you need to get ready. We’re gonna have to leave in the morning.”

  Joe questioned. “Why so soon?”

  “Jason said we’re getting a storm front. I’m taking the twin engine because its fuel efficient. I can fly it low, but I would rather not take a chance of getting caught in a storm with it. Plus, I’m on light duty for a week, so now’s the chance.”

  Excitedly, Ellen faced Joe. “Can we do this? Do we have your permission?”

  “Yes, but word does not get out in this community. Not yet. Understood.”

  “Yes.” Ellen nodded then kissed Joe. “Thank you. I have to hurry to Bowman to finish my day then I’ll get the things together.” She gave a squeeze to Robbie’s arm as she passed him. Stopping at the door, she turned around. “Joe, you won’t regret this. I promise.”

  “Yeah. Yeah.” Joe gave a fling wave of his hand and watched the door close. He then peered to Robbie. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “Nope. In fact, it’s something I don’t want to do,” Robbie said. “But it is something I have to do.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  There was a sense relief for Johnny as he looked at himself in the mirror. He was relieved that he wasn’t all that bad, that the things, the horrible things, he had done to his family and friends were indeed out of his control.

  But the relief was on one hand. The other hand weighed heavier, because that other hand held fear.

  Fear of what would happen. Fear of dying. Fear of what he would become before succumbing to the illness again. There was no indication–physically, no warning. Yet it grew within his very own head and he didn’t even know.

  Johnny’s eyes were dark. They were as heavy as his heart from holding back the sadness he wanted to just let pour out. Trying to be strong was not an option. No matter how much he portrayed it, inside Johnny was crumbling. Never had he felt so alone and so young as he did at that moment as he glanced at his own eyes.

  He wanted to huddle in a corner. He wanted to reach out to someone familiar, someone who he felt a sense of comfort. Family . . . his father.

  But that was about as much of an option as living another year. As much as Johnny wanted to see his father, he wouldn’t, just like he wouldn’t see his twenty-first birthday.

  The news pummeled him and the shock started to wear off. His immediate zipping thought of working on a monstrous steroid replica pummeled and disappeared into a reality that led him to believe he’d be long dead before he even came close to completing a replica formula of Dean Hayes.

  Hopeless?

  An understatement.

  Johnny was dying. He was told it earlier, he felt it in his heart, and now he knew it.

  “John,” Mike called out from the other side of the bedroom door. He knocked once then opened it. “John?”

  “Hey, Mike.” Johnny sniffed and turned around.

  “You all right?’

  The first response that wanted to come from Johnny was a chuckle and a blast of, ‘No I’m not all right, I’m dying’, but it didn’t. It was far too immature of a thing to do. “Yeah,” Johnny responded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “I fixed a meal. Wanna eat?” Mike asked.

  Johnny shook his head.

  “John, I’m concerned. I don’t like you hanging up here by yourself. You’ve been up here all day.”

  “I just need some time Mike.”

  “I understand.” Mike started to close the door, but stopped. “John, just so you know, you aren’t alone. Okay?”

  Johnny nodded and watched the door close. He wasn’t alone but that didn’t make him feel any better because if Johnny headed back to the path he had or even near the state of mind he was in Beginnings, then alone, completely alone, was the way Johnny felt he should be.

  ^^^^

  The smell of reconstituted beef buried beneath some sort of would-be gravy pummeled Dean as an announcement that dinner in Containment would be served and the stupid vocal bell of Chester would ring out, over and over.

  Taking a whiff made Dean shake his head. Ironically, it brought back a feeling of the old world. How ‘poetically clinical’ the food smelled, as if the three women that cooked it made a staunch attempt to recreate hospital food.

  It was served on a tray and only at certain times. Further food wouldn’t be an option if Dean didn’t bribe Dan from Security for cookies. How odd that Dean found himself doing like every other Containment resident in bribing an official. Only Dean didn’t bribe for a chance to lead the hokey pokey or to be the person to stop the music on musical chairs. Dean bribed for time.

  Time alone, time to work, time to think . . . about Johnny.

  How could Dean not? Ever sin
ce Ellen gave him the low level technological materials from some guy named Lars Rayburn, Dean was in thought.

  He thought about the tumor, if it was real, and what would transpire.

  He thought about what could be done, how much time he had to do so and more importantly, how he would do it.

  He thought about Johnny, the adverse effect the tumor had on his personality, and how medically sound an excuse that tumor could actually be.

  Finally and heavily, Dean thought about how some Ohio, low level, probably self proclaimed doctor, thought of, discovered, and diagnosed a tumor before him.

  Who was this Lars Rayburn? A part of Dean was jealous that someone who probably didn’t have an ounce of medical knowledge actually one-upped him.

  Dean deducted Lars couldn’t have the skill or genius. It had to be plain dumb luck.

  That in itself made Dean feel better.

  But thinking about some guy named Lars was a mental task for a later time. Dean had to focus on Johnny.

  He had to come up with a solution, a viable solution. Dean knew it would be tough. However a lot hinged on Ellen and the testing results she returned. After all, Dean only had to work with Photostat copies probably given to him by some country horse doctor. He hoped that he was given wrong medical information on Johnny or, at the very least, the medical imaging was so raw that the tumor was actually more accessible than the scans depicted. If not, if the tumor was what Dean instinctively feared, then he would have to lay out possible routes to recovery for Johnny, routes he would have to develop and pretty much start from scratch. They would be difficult because the previously paved medical routes of the old technological world had turned to dust. Dean wasn’t all that sure that his new technology could even be the answer of help that Lodi, and Johnny, desperately sought.

  Ellen snapped her fingers twice in front of Richie. “Are you listening?”

  Nearly exasperated, Rickie shook his head. “I hear you. But why?”

  “Because you are the man now,” Ellen explained. “Jess is not here. I have to go for a few days. You’re in charge.”

  “Why can’t you commute? It’s only Jordan.”