“Yeah.”
“Why are you calling them old man glasses?”
“Are they glasses?”
“Yes.”
“Are you man?”
“Yes . . .” Joe held up a hand. “Don’t even ask me if I’m old. They’re reading glasses, Frank. Ask for them correctly.”
Irritated, Frank did. “Dad, can I borrow your . . . reading glasses?”
“For what?’
“To read!” Frank snapped
“Can’t you see?” Joe handed them to him.
“The little words are difficult when they’re close.” Frank put on the half square glasses. “Whoa. I feel smart.”
Joe grumbled.
“Wow.” Frank lifted the sheet. “Look at this. It’s clear.”
“Frank, if you need glasses, maybe you’d better get a pair.”
Frank scoffed. “No way. I don’t wanna run around with old man glasses.”
Danny tapped him on the shoulder. “See what we mean?”
“About?’
“That.”
Joe prepared to gripe. With his hand sliding down his face, he glanced up at Frank’s ‘hmm’, and watched his son, look so intently at the printed and coded letter. “Frank? You look like you got something.”
“Okay. Yes, sort of. I may have a way to decode this.”
Danny gave a quirky look. “Frank?” He partially snickered. “Um, it’s really not a code. It came through scrambled, like my unit didn’t read their unit.”
“But in an essence it would be a code, right?” Frank said. “Try this. Look at it carefully. Look for the symbol or number most used. Take that code and try making every occurrence an ‘E’, then the next symbol used a lot, make that an ‘R’, go on down the line with ‘S’ . . .”
“Hold it. Hold it.” Danny spoke upbeat and flipped open a notebook. “You suggest ‘E’ first, then ‘R’, then ‘S’.”
“Then ‘T’,” Frank continued. “I’m not saying it’s gonna work butt might be a start. Also, to help, look at the short words. See here . . .” Frank pointed. “I can point out two instances of three letter words that have the same symbols. And here, look at these two letter words. Here, here and here. All three have the same first symbol, the ‘and’ sign, but only two share the same second symbol. Bet me, now I’m no expert, but bet me the ‘and’ sign is the letter ‘I’ or ‘A’, and the dollar sign at the end of these three letter words . . .”
Danny finished. “The letter ‘E’. I can see the dollar sign all over the place.”
“Exactly.” Frank handed the form back. “Try that.”
“I will. Thanks, Frank.” Danny smiled. “I’ll work on this, Joe.”
Joe nodded as Danny moved to the door. “Good luck. Keep me posted, but don’t kill yourself over it.”
After an acknowledgment hand wave, Danny walked out.
“I’ll be a son of a bitch,” Joe said to Frank. “Goddamn, I’m impressed. That was really intelligent.”
“It’s the glasses.” Frank handed the glasses back to Joe.
“No, it wasn’t. It was more than that.”
“You’re right. It was.” Frank winked.
“Well, wanna share where you came up with that?”
“:Absolutely.” Frank pointed to his own temple. “The Wheel of Fortune Game Show, Dad. Years of Wheel of Fortune.”
Thinking, ‘I was impressed, why did I have to go and ask’, Joe just stared at his son.
^^^^
Robbie stomped his foot once on the pavement of the Lodi street. “I’ll be damned,” he said with a shake of his head. “Frank would be jealous at how well they clean their streets.”
“They use ash.” Ellen held on to Robbie’s arm as they walked.
“So do we.”
“They have patience.”
Robbie smiled. “Okay, we don’t.”
“Thank you for bringing me the Elliott letters.”
“I figured you can read them on the plane to pass the time.”
“I’ll talk to you on the plane. You can fill me in about the game show.”
“Oh, El.” Robbie laughed. “I don’t-know who is worse, Frank or Jenny and they’re on opposite teams. Both of them are really putting together a strategy.”
“I’m glad I won’t miss it.”
“Nope, you’ll be home early enough to feel the tension.” Robbie saw the half smile she gave. “Are you worried about leaving so soon?”
“Well, yes and no. It’s my baby and I’m not seeing it through, but then again, Lars is here.”
“How long until you’ll know anything?”
Ellen paused to think. “Two or three days. I’m more concerned about the side effects and if they subside.”
“That bad?”
“Um . . . depends how you look at it.” She said. “We injected the behavioral portion of the brain.”
“He went insane.”
“No, he went Beginnings.”
“Excuse me?”
“He thinks he’s Jenny Matoose.”
Robbie stopped walking. “Jenny?” He bit his bottom lip. “For real?”
“Yep.”
“Hmm.” Robbie took a step.
“And Frank.”
Again, Robbie stopped. “Frank too?”
“Yep. Your . . . Your dad as well. He interjects when Frank and Jenny start fighting.”
“Jenny. Frank. My Dad. Geez, El,” Robbie spoke sarcastically. “Anyone else?”
“I thought I heard some Ben from Fabrics, but I couldn’t be sure if it was him or Henry.”
Robbie let out an ‘uh-ha’ and took a few steps with a serious look until he no longer could contain his laughter.
^^^^
The putrid smell of the cryo-lab may have offended some people but not Dean. No matter how sour or how foul it smelt, it was a welcoming sign. It was sort of like smelling coffee first thing in the morning. The cryo-lab was Dean’s world. He felt relaxed there even if he swamped with work. It was the one place he knew he felt at home. Then again, the cryo-lab was the one place that was without a doubt his, since the recent bout with the messed up micro-chip cost him his marriage and his house.
Checking on his lab subjects was just routine. To ensure that there was no fire or release of toxins, Dean made sure everything that needed to be turned off was turned off. To preserve life and thwart unwanted deaths, he made sure what had to be on was left on.
Majestic, the mutated rabbit, looked bigger, fuller. Dean made a note to check her weight the next day. He also made a mental note to tell Henry he would need bigger sleeping bins for the two killer babies that grew at a rapid pace. He had them in his possession for months, training, testing, and calming. They had made progress and had started to spend the days out with their foster parents, but they still had to be detained at night ever since one got a rabbit and tore it to shreds. Dean smiled fondly at the memory of Marcus at that age. How domesticated Marcus had become, yet was worse than the two he had penned up. Marcus always had to be chased and any live animal matter was far from safe around Marcus until he turned a year old.
Getting ready to call it a night and head topside, Dean heard a soft, steady beeping. It didn’t scream like a siren and was a sound he swore he had heard before. Concern hit Dean when he realized it came from the back room where Brian and Caroline were kept in stasis.
He flew back there hoping some sort of malfunction had not occurred. His knees banged into the crib as he reached for the light and Dean squeezed in. The lid to the case was open, as he left it and the cryo-cases were propped up in view. Every day the glass grew clearer and Brian and Caroline came more into focus.
The power was on. The lights on the case confirmed that and the digital readout on the left of each case told him the temperature hadn’t fluctuated. So what was the beeping? It has a sense of familiarity to it, yet Dean couldn’t’ place it. Moving to Brian’s case to check on the vital statistics, Dean recalled the sound. It had been awhile, almost two
years, but the vital signs confirmed his memory was correct.
It was the countdown timer. The undoing of the stasis was coming to an end and the sound was an alert to be prepared. Dean was prepped but there was a problem. Dean was prepared for Brian and Caroline to awaken in seven days, not three like the timer now indicated.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
February 8th
There were two meals that were served without fail in the Manis’s household, breakfast and dinner. Usually no one was home during the course of the day, so lunch was out. Mike usually left the home by eight in the morning, but not this morning. He lagged a little with hardly any motivation, coupled with the fact that too many things made him stop.
Tigger’s instigating of Johnny certainly wasn’t helping any progress Johnny could make. No sooner did Johnny switch personalities, Tigger was right there encouraging conversation with whomever individual Johnny so happened to be.
The breakfast dishes took extremely long. Mike tried to get them done, but Johnny insisted he needed to pamper his skin and Mike had to wait so there would be enough hot water.
Then the mug.
Ellen had used pretty much the daisy mug the three days she was there. She had taken a last sip before leaving with Robbie and set the mug on the mantel. To Mike, he said goodbye all over again whenever he picked up that mug.
Why Ellen? What was it about Ellen? At first, Mike knew it was the uncanny resemblance to Dylan, but as the hours passed and the days moved on, Mike realized the answer. It wasn’t just because she was a woman. It was because she was someone who listened, talked, didn’t assume, smiled, and was someone different. Mike had only had contact with the same people, with the exception of Johnny, for the last eight years.
He couldn’t wait for the late afternoon when he was able to pick up the phone and call to say hello. To Mike, if he could achieve the sort of friendship Ellen had with Elliott Ryder, he would be a happy man. However, Mike feared he may have blown it and left Ellen with a less than impressionable memory of him. To find out if that was true, he would have to wait. It took him nearly an entire day to get over his nervousness of first meeting her. Why was the hug goodbye so awkward? The ‘goodbye’ embrace was quick, rigid, and tense, portraying perhaps that Mike didn’t want to hug her had all, when the truth was Mike was afraid if he held too tight, he wouldn’t be able to let go.
For a few short days, Mike felt good. Ellen had left. Mike knew it wouldn’t be for long. She would be back. For the first time in a long time he had something to look forward to.
^^^^
It was a lot warmer than either Jess or Jimmy would have expected it to be. The humid weather hung making it difficult to breathe right. They moved slowly, pacing themselves. Staying in the shade was easy, seeing how pretty much most of Louisiana was overgrown. They came to a section where the trees were taller than they were and the small town that was their pausing destination came within site.
Jess took a swig of water and handed it to Jimmy.
“Thanks.” Jimmy took his drink and placed the bottle in the loop of his belt.
“You realize we aren’t ever making it back at this pace,” Jess said with a tired feel.
“Obviously we can’t run.” Jimmy looked at the sun then to his compass watch. “We’re on course. I have a strong feeling Beginnings will come and find us.”
Jess laughed.
“What?”
“They aren’t coming for us. George got the message.”
Jimmy shook his head. “No, I think that Beginnings got it too. They just got it scrambled as well.”
“Then it’s a matter of waiting until they unscramble it.”
“Exactly.”
“We’re walking home,” Jess said. “No one is gonna bother. Trust me, I’ve lived there. I know them.”
“Jess, Jess, ye of little faith. I’m telling you, trust me. I think . . .” Jimmy stopped walking.
“What’s wrong?”
“Look at this place.”
“Yeah. So?”
“Look.” Jimmy turned slowly around as he took in the view of the town. “What’s missing?”
“The same thing that’s missing from every town in this world, people.”
“Ha. Ha. Ha. Asshole. No, look around.”
Jess was game. Feeling rather dumb and knowing he probably was stepping into some sort of sick Slagel mind game, he slowly pivoted around.
It was loud, odd, and caused both of them to stir. A ringing. A phone ringing. It wasn’t just one. It sounded as if every phone in the town was ringing.
Jimmy raised one eyebrow. “I’ve seen this movie.”
“This is fucked up.”
“Tell me about it.”
The phones kept ringing.
“Jimmy,” Jess called as Jimmy moved down the sidewalk. “What are you doing?”
Jimmy stopped before a pay phone and stared at it. “Should I?” he asked Jess as he extended his hand.
“You don’t think it’s the Society for some reason, do you?”
“Uh, no,” Jimmy said sarcastically and picked up the phone.
Every phone that rang suddenly stopped. Silence entailed.
Exhaling with the word, ‘weird’, Jimmy hesitantly brought the phone to his ear. “Hello.”
Long, deep, and southerly slow, the male voice spoke over the line. So accented were his words that he could have been speaking a foreign language. “Who shish ans-ring ma fowln. Ain-suppus-ta-be ans-ring tress-pisser.”
Click.
Eyes still glued to the receiver, Jimmy laughed. “Oh my God.”
“What? What?” Jess asked. “Who was it? Was it a person?”
“I guess. I don’t know.” Jimmy hung up the phone. Not five seconds later, it rang again. Jimmy looked at Jess.
“Go on,” Jess suggested.
With a shrug, Jimmy answered, “Hello.”
“Dint uh tell nots ta ans-ra da folwn. Ness tie I shoes you ass tress-pisser.”
Click.
“This is too fuckin weird.” Jimmy shook his head.
“Who is it?”
“I don’t know.” Jimmy hung the phone on the base again. “I can’t understand them.”
Ring.
“I’ll get it.” Jess reached and lifted the receiver. ‘Hello.”
“Uh toll you.”
Click.
Jess chuckled “I understood that. He said, ‘I told you.’ What did he tell you?”
“I haven’t a clue.” Jimmy lifted his hands.
Had it not been so quiet in the town, it wouldn’t have echoed out, but it did. The single shifting of a rifle’s chamber reverberated to Jess and Jimmy as a split second warning that gave them just enough time to duck. A single shot whistled out as they hit the street and the telephone shattered above them.
Jess covered his head. “I guess you were wrong.”
Another shot fired out.
Jimmy jolted. “About what?”
“You asked what was missing. Remember?”
“You said . . .” Jimmy hunched away from another shot. “. . . people. I meant . . . trees!” Just as another shot fired forward, Jimmy grabbed Jess’s arm. “Let’s go!” They headed for cover.
^^^^
George was grateful that the double pane glass was still intact because he knew, had it not been, he would have been a goner, washed up . . . literally. It used to be a North Carolina Hilton or something to that effect, some high class five star hotel with multitudes of floors and suites that only the elite slept and vacationed in. The eighth floor corner room, deemed the ‘Rosalyn’ by the name etched on the door, was in fairly good shape. It probably hadn’t been occupied at the time of the plague and it was far too high from street level to be ransacked in some sort of looter frenzy. Of course there was dust, but not much. The room was sealed off and that helped.
It was dark, even with the curtains open. The window took up a good part of the main room. The morning sun was failing in its attempt to make it
through the dark clouds that made the sky look as if it were night time.
George could hear the howling of the high speed winds and he stepped back from the window that he looked out. He stepped back just as lightening exploded and a crash of water, more like an ocean wave than rain, beat against the pane.
“I found another.” Bertha walked into the room with a lantern. “This should get us through the storm.”
“What in Christ’s name has happened?” George returned to the window.
“Freakish, isn’t it?” Bertha set down the lantern on the table and moved to the window. “I have our escorts bunked down. The mobile phones are out. Everything’s down. I was able to get word to Steward to send help.”
“Our science team?”
“Last we spoke to them, they were getting closer to Florida. They hadn’t run into a storm. They beat it.”
“You forewarned them though?”
“Absolutely. I’m no meteorologist, but the winds are looking as if they are blowing south. It could break if it moves more inland.”
“Inland?” George had to laugh. “Look down there.”
Bertha closed in on the glass and tried to hide the shudder on her face. Thick, muddy, violent water covered any remains of a street or their vehicles.
“Now how far from the ocean did you say we were?”
“Fifteen miles.”
“Fifteen miles from shore and this is happening?” George shook his head. “It’s frightening. Are we going to be able to move forward?”
“I don’t know. Sir, maybe it’s a sign that we shouldn’t.”
“A sign from whom?” George asked.
“God.”
George laughed.
“I’m very serious. Perhaps you’re not meant to go down there. Maybe it would be too emotional for you? Maybe it’s best that we left our science team recover the bodies and transport them up to you.”
“How long would that take?” George asked.
“In all honesty, sir, with this weather, they probably could take the around about route back to DC and get there before us.”
“That seems farfetched.”
“Not really,” Bertha said. “If you think about it, we’re flooded in. Without resources to airlift us out of here, we’re stuck until the waters recede and that can take days.”
The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20 Page 368