“Because.” Dean tugged on the tape causing Ellen to grunt. “The suit’s too big and you don’t want it caught up on anything.” He grabbed the end of the duct tape and almost too loud, ripped off another piece of tape. “God.” With irritation he wrapped that piece around Ellen nearer to her chest. “If you weren’t so small, I wouldn’t have to be wasting my time doing this.”
“Me?” Ellen asked annoyed. “Oh, yeah, like you’re the fuckin jolly green Giant.”
“At least my suit fits.” Dean looked at her.
“Only because you’re wearing extra clothes,” Ellen said. “And does the tape need to be so tight. You did it on purpose like this.”
“Guys.” Henry stepped in between them. His eyes held warning when he saw Dean’s mouth ready to open in further argument. “No. Now is not the time. It’s not . . . the time. I won’t be the referee this whole trip. Put it behind. And . . .” He handed the almost helmet to Ellen. “Put it on. They’re waiting on us.”
Holding her headgear Ellen watched Dean bend down for his. Dean merely glanced at her before placing it on. Then Ellen did the same.
Suited up, they looked like space aliens. Dean reached to his waist, turning on his radio. “El, respond. Can you hear me?”
“Unfortunately,” She answered with a quiver in her voice.
“Check your lights,” Dean instructed. “Henry, you too.”
They both did, their faces brightening from the interior suit light, and the small light attached to the head was their guiding light.
“Shut off the interior suit lights, leave on the outer one. It’s gonna be dark when we step outside.” Dean said. “Let’s do this.” First lifting two cases, Dean adjusted them in his arms then did one more quick visual of Ellen and Henry’s suits and the equipment they carried. “Ready?” He received their nods then stepped before the two of them to the back door. As soon as Dean opened it, he saw Joe. He gave the thumbs up to them both, their signal that they were ready. He watched Joe do a wind up of his arm, looking back at the lab. And with that all too familiar powering noise, Joe was no longer visible through the illuminated archway. “Let’s go.”
They were prepared for the one step out of the door from the CDC. What they weren’t prepared for was no step at all.
With surprise, a thump and loss of balance, Dean dropped first from the two foot fall, followed by Ellen, and Henry who landed right next to him. Dean turned his head when he heard Ellen’s slight groan. “Ellen?”
“My fingers twisted in the case.” She grunted more. “I think two of them are broken.”
Henry saw them starting to get up. “Stop. No one move, stay put.” Standing, he turned around. “Where the hell is the mobile?” He saw Jason’s lab to the right and an empty space before them. “We have to mark the archway or we’ll never get back through. We’ll never find it here in the dark. Stay put. I’ll find something.” Using his foot to draw a line, Henry stepped away. Thinking maybe Jason’s lab had something, he noticed the jeep and raced over. “Guys,” he spoke through the radio. “We can steal the jeep to get back into town.” From the back end, Henry found a tire iron. With it in hand, he ran back over to Dean and Ellen who still lay on the cold ground. “Found something.” Kneeling down to his line, he raised the tire iron above his head and with all of his strength, jammed it into the ground. “Target. You can get up.” He extended his hand to Ellen.
Rolling to her side, Ellen reached up with her uninjured hand and used Henry as leverage.
Clearly Dean could see that Ellen was babying her hand. He knew she had been hurt worse than she was letting on. “El, can you do this? Or do you want to hang back and wait. We have the jeep, an hour tops.”
Ellen shook her hand that started to thump and throb. “I’ll do it. We’re gonna have to get something to splint my fingers, Dean. We have nothing at the mobile.”
“We will.” Dean said. “Henry, do an air sample and a soil sample out here.” Dean saw the light in the lab. “Maybe not. Hold up.” He held his hand up walking closer. “Maybe there isn’t a plague after all. Everyone turn off the headgear lights.” Slowly and barely seen, Dean walked to the lab window to peer in. One look and Dean spun around, his back hitting against the outside quantum lab wall. “Take the samples, Henry.”
Henry hid his terrified expression within the darkness. His heavy swallow was heard before his words through the radio. “I’ll start them. See if the keys are in the jeep.”
Dean ran to it and checked. “No, they must be inside. Ellen stay put. Jason’s in there.”
“I’m coming with you.” She followed him. “I can handle this.”
Not wanting to waste any more time, Dean opened up the quantum lab door. Immediately the sight of Jason slumped over his work counter, was seen. His arms extended above his head, as if he decided at that moment to lie down and nap. “Keys.” Dean turned back at Ellen who stood stunned in the doorway. “Ellen are you . . .”
“I’m fine.” Not wanting to look at Jason, Ellen moved about searching for the keys in the quiet, dead lab.
A foot from Jason’s head, Dean spotted them. Hurriedly he snatched them up. “Found them.” They jingled as he moved with haste to Ellen, grabbed hold of her arm and led her from the lab.
Henry stood by the jeep waiting. He had loaded their supplies in. “Was it our virus?” He asked as he helped Ellen in the back.
Dean answered as he jumped in the passenger’s seat. “I’m sure of it. Let’s just get this over with.”
In silence, they drove the jeep to just outside the utility building, opting to quietly walk the last quarter mile into town. Not a single light was on, not even the spotlights. The abandoned appearance of the area left them to wonder if anyone at all was left at Beginnings.
Leaving Henry there to do his samples, Ellen and Dean, with their gear, walked without light into center Beginnings.
From a distance it looked so normal, a few spot lights on in the streets, quiet with no movement. Dean and Ellen stayed close to the buildings just in case the guard who walked the street at night was still doing that. They didn’t want to be seen.
Dean spotted it first as they closed in to the clinic. The answer to the first question Henry posed. The CDC Mobile set in the street, directly outside the clinic. “We must have worked on the virus in there, El.”
“But if everyone had it, Dean, why wouldn’t we just work on it in the clinic?”
“I don’t know. We’ll check the lab out first. Maybe we won’t have to go into the clinic at all.” Dean stopped suddenly, grabbing Ellen and pulling her back when he saw a man he didn’t recognize walk from the clinic and past the mobile. Figuring it was some survivor or fearing it was a society soldier, Dean waited for the brawny man with a long blonde ponytail to move from sight, then he took another step. Another foot forward, another jump back. “Shit. Look.” He pointed.
Ellen peeked out. She watched as Joe walked from the clinic. He moved slowly, slanting in his walk. His shirt was dirty. “Dean. Joe lived through it. Maybe it’s not that bad.”
But his hopeful observation lasted only a moment as they watched Joe do something they didn’t expect him to do, something that frightened them, something so simple. He stopped in his stride, turned back, and went into the clinic. A few seconds later, the clinic, for the first time ever in the history of Beginnings . . . went dark.
Dean waited until he saw Joe disappear and he moved again. “Let’s try it again.”
Slowly and quietly they made it to the mobile, they saw no other people on the streets at all. In fact, the streets were darker since the brightness of the clinic wasn’t seen.
Dean approached the side door to the mobile. “Wait until I check it out.” He reached for the door. When he opened it, what was inside could not be hidden from Ellen who stood directly behind him. The mobile was no longer a lab, but a shell of a vehicle, filled now with bodies, covered with blankets, piled in one mass grave. With his eyes closed tightly, a knot in his stomach
, Dean shut the door. “El . . .” He faced her and turned on his interior suit light. “This is going to be bad.” He reached down to her waist and turned on her face light. When he did, he saw her horrified look. “Can you do this?” He waited for her nod. “The fingers? How are they.”
“Hurting but let’s go in there, get what we need, and get the hell out.”
Dean’s turn from her and leading walk to the clinic was his non-verbal agreement.
The lights on the outside of their headgear was their guide when they walked in. It was over, and Dean knew it when they walked slowly down the dark corridor. Beds lined up the hallway and filled the waiting room, all of them empty. All of them exhibiting the signs and remnants of the struggle those who had lain upon them went through. “El, they’ve cleaned it out.”
“I hope they left the information in the lab.” She led the way, her head moving, to shine the light on the dirty beds and cots. “What happened here, Dean?”
“We’ll find out.” He walked first into the clinic lab, immediately pulling the blinds closed and turning on only his desk light. He booted up the computer for Ellen. “Start as soon as it’s ready. Copy my notes and don’t read. Just copy my work.”
“What will you have it listed under?” Ellen pulled out the blank disks.
“Just go into the hard drive and look at the dates. See what the last thing it was I worked on.” Dean set his bio-box on the counter and opened up the refrigerator. The top shelf was filled with tubes of blood. Dates on the racks that held the tubes told Dean they were virus strained samples. Quickly, without looking at any names he loaded them in his box, taking enough samples to work on. When he spotted a smaller bio box on the bottom shelf, he knew. “Let this be it.” Dean whispered as pulled out the box and opened it. His eyes closed after he read the label on the vial. “Yes.”
“You isolated it?” Ellen asked. “Please tell me you isolated it.”
Dean lifted the vial. “I isolated it.” He saw Ellen’s head lower with relief. “Which means, we can beat this,” Dean spoke with a little confidence. “We’re now ahead of the game.” He stuck one of each strain into his bio-box. “I have enough. How’s the copying going.”
“It’s going. I’m only copying the files that were worked on during these dates.”
“Let’s double check when it started.” He searched for his journal. “Just to be certain we don’t miss anything.” The journal lay on his desk as it always did; Dean flipped open to the end. “Shit, I stopped writing two days ago in this time.” He read back. “Oh God.”
“What? What is it?” Ellen asked.
“I . . . I gave up.” Dean’s head dropped. “Go back only . . .only one week.” Dean swallowed. “That’s when it started.”
Emotions carried in Ellen’s voice. “No. Not that fast. Not again.”
With a shake of his head, Dean began flipping through his journal. He knew everything written in there would be on the disks that Ellen was copying, but he wanted to read while he waited. So much he had noted. Symptoms. A suspected, but not proved incubation period. Air tests. Another turn of the page brought a heavy breath that was heard.
“Dean?” Ellen looked from the computer. “What is it? What did you find?”
“Listen to this,” Dean began to read. “The air exposure tests with the rabbits have proven that the virus is not airborne. One question answered leaves another at bay. How did so many come down with it so fast?” Dean stopped reading.
“We know the answer to that.” Ellen placed in the final disk. “They hit us and hit us big. Anything about the antidote?”
“Um . . . yeah, here. Shit.” Dean slammed his hand.
“What’s wrong now?”
“God I annoy myself. Four days ago, I wrote I found it and put it on the disk. Why did I do that? Why didn’t I just write it in here?”
“That’s you. In the Dean is dead history, we went crazy trying to figure out your meds. And this is done.” Ellen lifted the last disk from the computer.
“Good, then let’s get . . .” Dean saw Henry walk in. “Henry, good. Stay here with Ellen and gather the things. I’m heading down to an examining room to get supplies so I can splint her fingers when we get back.” He watched Henry only nod with a petrified look. Dean walked up to him, grabbing Henry’s arm. “Are you all right?”
“No Dean, I’m not. I saw the mobile. I thought you were in there. I opened it up. Everyone, everyone is dead.” Henry grabbed on to the counter for support.
“Help, Ellen.” Dean started to leave but stopped. “And Henry? This scene you see here. You won’t see it again. I’ll bet my life on it. I won’t let this happen, I won’t.” Backing up, Dean raced down the empty hallway to the first examining room. He just wanted to get the supplies and head out. They had the information and samples they needed to begin their work.
When Dean walked into the examining room, what he saw was not what he expected. Eight tables were lined up in the room. Two to his left, six to his right. It was obvious they were bodies. Covered so neatly with blankets. Probably the last of them needing to be removed, Dean figured. Not wanting to see and keeping his focus forward, Dean walked to the supply cabinet. He bent down opening the door, but it wouldn’t open all the way. He had to move the gurney that was blocking it. Reaching up and using his foot, with a grunt, Dean moved the heavy table away six inches. He grabbed cloth bandages and splints then shut the cabinet door. When he stood up, the bandages fell from his hand. The blanket had edged its way from the table exposing the person that lay under it. “Oh God.” Dean felt his stomach churn and his balance leave. It was too real, it was real. He found himself staring at someone he least expected to see. They grey pale face, the death so evident, the sores that never healed. The hero who lost his final battle . . . Frank. Sickened, Dean reached to recover him but froze. Through the speaker of his bio suit ricocheted Ellen’s scream. His view jolted as she and Henry walked in. “Get her out!” Dean blasted emotionally.
“Frank?” Ellen began to hyperventilate as she neared the table, reaching. “Frank? No Dean, this isn’t Frank.”
Dean pushed her hands away. “Henry, get her out of here.” He finished covering Frank, feeling his heart race as he did. “Now.” He bent down for the bandages.
“El, come on.” Henry pulled at her.
“No.” She swung out trying to get back to see Frank, but in her spin of a turn she bumped into a table to her right. Losing some of her balance, she fell hands first, face first into the worst, most horrific scene of it all. Her baby . . . Brian. “No!”
Seeing what she saw, Henry reached forward pulling her away, dragging a hysterical Ellen. “Dean, come on!” He knew they both had to get out of there.
Dean couldn’t move, his eyes fixed with pain on the baby that lay on the table. Brian lay on his stomach the way he always had. Never had Dean felt what he was feeling. He had seen the world end, but nothing he saw was as painful as that moment. Right then and there he understood everything Ellen had gone through, Frank had gone through. There was nothing worse, no pain greater than to stare at his own flesh and blood, laying there so helpless and without the life he helped give him. Dean felt that. His heart ached as if it were crushing. His eyes grew heavy and his blood boiled with determination, more determined than ever to conquer something that obviously had beaten him in that future.
“Dean.” Henry, like he had to do with Ellen, pulled Dean from that room into the hall. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
What they witnessed was a magnet, drawing them to take it in, forcing them to believe that this was their fate if they didn’t do anything about it.
Dean walked slowly. He had a hard time moving. He didn’t know what to say to Ellen when he looked at her sitting on the hallway floor, her back against the wall.
Henry strapped the gear onto a stunned Dean. “You carry this. Dean . . . Dean.” Giving a slight awakening shake to Dean, Henry grabbed his attention. “I know this is bad. I know it is, but
we have to get out. And what did you tell me? This is the last time I’ll see this? You bet your life on that Dean and I’m taking that bet.” Almost pushing him to move, Henry squatted down to Ellen. “El, please.” He held out his hand. “El? Let me get you out of here.”
Ellen raised her head and reached out her hand, she gripped Henry’s and stood to her feet. “I’m sorry Henry. I’m sorry I lost control. I thought I was prepared.”
“None of us were prepared for this.” Henry turned his head to see Dean, zombie-like move down the dark hall. “None of us.”
“This isn’t real, tell me this isn’t real.” She walked with him.
“It is right now,” Henry spoke the painful truth. “But it won’t be in a year. We won’t let it.”
^^^^
Frank’s eyes dropped in relief and so did his heart when he heard the doorway power up. The longest five seconds of his life were standing there waiting. All he saw of them were their backs as they closed the door quickly behind them.
Racing to the other end of the mobile, along with Joe and Jason, Frank stood at the large window with bated breath. He could see into the lab and the doorway from which they would come out. “What’s taking so long?”
In the small decontamination room, the three of them not only moved in silence, but in emotional haste. Hurrying from the suits they wore taking them from their bodies as if slipping them off would slip the vision of what they saw from their minds. They were back. But the truth came back with them.
Frank felt it when he saw Ellen come from the decontamination room first. His heart pounded when he saw the desperate and lost look on her reddened face as she emerged from the room, as if the secondary lab was a salvation she strived for. “El?” With widened eyes and confusion, Frank watched her nearly trip as she raced to the window. Her body shook as she cried. “El?”
“Frank.” She picked up the radio. “Oh God.” She lowered her head and started to cry, her hand reaching to the glass just to try to touch him, to feel him.
State of Time: Beginnings Series Book 6 Page 12