“It was pretty messy. He’s probably still putting it back together and helping to clean.”
“He’s not cleaning it,” Henry stated.
“He’s not? What is Christ’s name is he doing?” He watched Henry look at him then turn away. “Henry?”
“Ask your son.”
“I’m asking you. He’s been up there for days. What is he doing?”
“You should ask your son.”
“Fine,” Joe huffed. “Be that way.” He hopped back in his jeep to where he would find the answer to that question, since he obviously wasn’t getting it from Henry.
Joe pulled up to the area where the mobile lab and quantum lab were set. He parked on the road’s end just beside the quantum lab. Joe chuckled as he stepped from the jeep and saw the big sign on the quantum lab door, the one that read ‘Do not disturb’. Shaking his head in amusement at the sounds of arguing and banging that came from the quantum lab, Joe headed straight to the mobile.
The lab door was locked so he jiggled the handle then knocked. “Robbie.”
A click-click and the door opened. Robbie peeked out first then opened the door wider. “Hey Dad, come on in. But walk between the lines please so you don’t mess anything up.”
“Walk between the . . .” Joe stepped in carefully. Everything looked worse than when he was there a week earlier. “You and Ellen are supposed to be cleaning this place.”
“We are, sort of. El’s handling the contagious stuff and working on it. I’m doing the rest.”
“Robert, what is going on? This place isn’t clean. It looks . . .” Joe peered around. “It looks like a major investigation. Samples Robbie.” He picked up an envelope and peeked inside. “Is this a hair?”
Robbie took it from him and set it in a box. “One of sixty I found.”
“Sixty? What for? Why are you collecting evidence so to speak? And why wasn’t I notified of this?”
“First, we really never had an investigation in Beginnings so I figured it was security. Frank heads that, I told him I wanted to look further into it and he gave his O.K.. Second Dad, second . . . I feel that there is more than meets the eye with this Reverend Thomas gone bad thing. We know he’s been communicating with men outside. What happens if there are more in Beginnings. I know for a fact that there was someone else here besides Reverend Thomas that night.” Robbie motioned with his hand. “This way . . . walk between my lines.” He pointed as he explained. “First he broke the door then Dean shot him. Reverend Thomas then struck Dean, shot him, and went after Ellen. Here’s where it gets interesting. Dad, all over this place there’s blood. A trail. The man bled badly.”
Joe looked around at the blood on the lab floor carefully taped off. “I see that.”
“And . . . it goes all the way through the other trailer confirming Ellen’s story. But Ellen said from the living trailer, he chased her outside and grabbed her. That’s where I had my biggest problem. . I was beginning to think that she may have remembered wrong because there was a larger amount of blood right by the living room door over there.”
“As if he stood still. So what made you change your way of thinking?” Joe asked.
“I went over the area outside, no trail of blood. And there isn’t any at the lab door where Ellen says he grabbed her. No sense because . . .” Robbie led his father across the lab. “Between the lines, please. Here.” From a box he lifted Ellen’s clothes. “Look at these. For a man who was bleeding, for a man who grabbed her and took her out of Beginnings, what is missing?”
Joe examined the articles. “Blood. There is no blood.”
“Right. Meaning, she didn’t fly out of Beginnings and she certainly didn’t go on her own. Someone else grabbed her and took her out. Someone right here in Beginnings.”
“O.K .Robbie I will congratulate you on your keen insight, however, you’re missing one very important piece of this story. The motions were dismantled. The guard down below was shot. He could have had a man come up.”
“Oh.” Robbie shrugged. “O.K., I’ll give you that. But can’t I double check to make sure? I just want to be sure another party isn’t walking around in our home.”
Joe thought about it, running his hand down his face as he breathed heavily. “I’ll allow it, but collect what you have to collect quickly. We need this lab. And I’ll let you do this investigation on one condition. It isn’t a John Matoose lynching mob . . .”
“But Dad, I wouldn’t . . .”
“Don’t ‘but Dad’ me. I know you. Keep it fair Robbie and keep it open minded.”
“All right, I’ll keep it fair.” He placed some things in his box. “And I’ll clear out what I have collected . . .”
“Robbie!” Frank’s voice va-voomed into the small lab as he flung open the door and slammed it.
Cringing first, Robbie turned to him. “Between the lines please.”
“Oh.” Frank jumped into the lines and started yelling again. “Robbie, Look!” He undid his pants and dropped them right there. “Look at my thigh! Seventeen stitches! Seventeen! Would you like to know why? I’ll tell you why.” He tossed from his clenched hand the arrow head and it landed on the counter. “That’s why! I’m checking out the back gate area, like I always do. I’m carrying my map. I look at my map as I go into S-8. I see it’s a clean area. Wrong! As soon as I step there wham! A Robbie trap. And do you want to know why I got hit with a Robbie trap? It’s not marked on the fuckin map!” Frank threw his clipboard. “Someone isn’t thinking right, Robbie! Who could that be?!”
Robbie leaned into the counter, not looking at Frank. “Me?”
“Yes you!” Frank pointed. “You aren’t thinking! What’s wrong with this picture Robbie?!”
Closing his eyes briefly, Robbie looked at Frank. “Aside from the fact that you aren’t really intimidating yelling at me with your pants down.” He saw Frank wasn’t amused. “All right, all right. I forgot to mark it down, that’s what is wrong.”
Frank made a buzzing sound. “Wrong. No.”
At the same time, a little shocked, Joe and Robbie responded, “No?”
“No!” Frank shook his head. “Look at where I was hit. In the leg Robbie. Your aim is way off. You can’t kill shit at that level. If you did it right. I’d be dead. Am I dead? No.”
Joe, smacking himself lightly in this face, ran his hand over his mouth. “I’m out of here. And Frank? Pull your pants up.”
Frank lifted up his trousers and fastened them. “All right, now that I’m calm, how are things going, Robbie, with this investigation?”
Robbie smiled with a nod. “Good. Very Good. Getting lots of stuff.”
Joe intervened, “I think he’s made a very good case. But it’s a waste. The other person isn’t in here but he can still check it out.”
Frank looked back at Robbie. “Did you go check the tunnels?”
“Why?” Robbie asked.
“A start. It was pretty muddy that night. If they live here, they had to come back in that way. We were all on bikes so there has to be at least one set coming in.”
“Excellent Frank. I’ll do that. Thanks,” Robbie grinned.
Frank pointed to his temple before he walked out. “One of us has to have the brains in the family especially since Dad is getting so old.”
Joe gave Frank a shove toward the door. “Get out of here.” He looked back to Robbie. “Clean up in here Robbie. This place has to be fully usable. Clean up.”
“Got it.” Robbie bounced from heel to toe. He peeked out the window waiting for Frank and his dad to drive away. When he saw they were gone, Robbie glanced around the lab. “Clean up in here . . .” He grabbed his coat. “Later. First . . . the tunnels.”
Robbie followed his brother’s suggestion and a good one it was. Still it yielded only more questions in his mind, more questions that would have to be answered. As Frank had pegged, there was a set of footprints coming into the tunnels. One set, smudged some, but still clear. Robbie knew as soon as he brought that to h
is father’s attention, Joe would say investigation over. But to Robbie it wasn’t. And that one set of tracks did far from make him believe it was a survivor from outside. If it was someone from Beginnings, there still would be a single set, the set of tracks when they returned from taking Ellen out. As he squatted down in the mouth of the tunnels, his finger tracing the outline of the foot, the smeared but distinctive treading, Robbie wondered even more. If it was a survivor like Joe thought, then what was the survivor doing wearing such good shoes?
^^^^
The dream. The vivid dream Dean was beginning to have every time he closed his eyes and slept. Was it his guilt over being unable to do anything? What could he do? Though his logical side told him to not dwell on it, his human side could not help but to find blame within himself for letting it get so far.
“El, run to the other mobile!” Dean instinctively felt his forefinger depress the trigger of the revolver as he stared into Moses’ eyes. He saw it hit him so he didn’t expect for him to reach outward and steal the gun from him. He felt it so abruptly being pulled from his hand it stung. Before he could step back, before he could move, he saw the large arm swing down and felt the striking blow to the side of his head. A headache like he had never felt and the room went immediately out of focus. The window, to Ellen, to the counter, and the floor was his spinning view. So weak, he lifted himself up. He couldn’t see, everything was blurry and the figures were dark. ‘Where was Ellen?’ Dean squinted to try to see her and he saw the figures before him shuffle about. That was all he saw and he heard the gunfire. One shot and Ellen screamed. It burned him and sent him back into the counter and onto the floor. He could feel his blood seep from him. He could hear the banging and crashing and Dean couldn’t move. His eyes closed.
“Oh God help me! NO!”
His eyes opened to Ellen’s scream, so close. Too close. He opened his eyes some as he lay on the floor trying to see, trying to move. “El?” He tried to speak but the words wouldn’t come out. If they did she wouldn’t have heard him through her screams. Shifting his head just a little, he saw her dangling legs in the door way. So helpless he felt as he knew she was grabbed. His blurry focus moved up and he saw Ellen’s head drop, the arm clutching her around the waist and tossing her over his shoulder. As he spun to carry her out Dean saw his blurred vision of Moses turn into someone else . . . John Matoose?
“Dean?” He felt the poke on his shoulder. “Dean!” Another poke.
Dean’s eyes popped open. “El.” He rubbed them.
“Are you all right?” Ellen asked then kissed him on the cheek.
“I was just having a weird dream.” He lifted himself up to sit in the bed.
“How are you feeling? I hear you are getting out tomorrow.”
“Yep. My blood count is finally up.” Dean straightened the covers. “Now you can bring the work home to review. It won’t be long before I’m back up there with you. How is that going?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Confirmed?” Dean asked.
“Yep. And you’re the one who tells Joe. And . . . he should be here shortly. So let’s deal with a little good news shall we?”
“Lay it on me.”
“You got it.” She lifted a stack of folders and dropped them on the bed to his legs. “Working around Robbie is tough. But, I’m doing what I can. From what I was able to scrounge up from what remained intact. I was able to remix some of our agents including ten through sixteen our highest effectiveness ration group.”
“Good and these are the results?” Dean asked of the folders.
“Yep. Take a look. Not too bad,” Ellen stated, waiting and watching Dean fumble for his glasses. “I upped ingredient ten in serum A-14. And . . ..I got a response. Not a big on mind you, but more so than we have been getting.” She flipped open the folder. “I definitely saw signs that the virus struggled. For forty-five minutes it lay dormant.”
“Any shrinkage in size?”
“Some shriveling. But . . . as soon as it started moving again, it gained its strength. I do think we’re on to something, but I don’t think we should toss all our eggs in the basket on A-14. Maybe just one isn’t what we need but possibly a combination of two serums.” She raised her eyebrow. “Look.” She opened a folder for him.
Dean grabbed the folder and immediately the words grew blurry. He rubbed his eyes, tried to read again, but everything went grey. He handed Ellen the folder.
“Something wrong?” She asked.
“My eyes are just tried I guess.”
“Nothing so important that it can’t wait.” She set it aside. “Bad news time? Like you asked, a few night ago I did contact exposure on some rabbits. Well, the two underweight ones and the baby one . . . died last night.”
“They died? Already? From our virus?”
“In an essence.” Ellen gathered up the folders. “An angle we haven’t taken. I think, now this is me, not a scientist talking, I think our symptoms killed them. We’ve only been using healthy rabbits, meaning . . . a strong person, if they can wage the war, can beat the virus possibly with the weaker antiserum. But a young person, a child, may not even make it long enough to let the antiserum work. We’re talking what? Fevers of a hundred and six, a hundred and eight in children. That’s what the future notes showed.”
“Plus the dehydration.” Dean clenched his fist. “Let’s go with that El. Good thinking. Can you give another batch of rabbits our virus? Weaker ones.”
“We don’t have any more weaker rabbits. I’ll ask Robbie to look for some. He’s good at that. If not, give me a day. I’ll starve a few and make them weak.”
Just as Dean shook his head with a chuckle at Ellen’s suggestion, he saw Joe walk in.
“What’s this I hear about bad news?” Joe said. “Now I’m not expecting progress mind you since our entire scientific community is out of whack. Mobile lab in disarray, the quantum lab seized by two eccentric betting mad men,” Joe smiled. “What’s up?”
Dean hesitated only momentarily. “We have reason to believe that the society may have been working with Rev. Thomas on our lab hit.”
Joe immediately looked to Ellen. “You do? Why?”
Ellen answered. “We were there when things went down. Portions of the lab, samples and such were crushed. Some of which were in the special lab. None of the attack went down there.”
Joe nodded. “But you both know it was well established that Rev. Thomas was against this virus work.”
Ellen agreed, “Yes, but a lot of slide work was destroyed. Granted it was nothing we don’t have scanned into the computers. But where our concern lies is the broken vials of agents. I’m not able to find all the missing bottoms. Which makes me thinks some of our antiserums are missing.”
“Ellen.” Joe shook his head. “Broken glass bits. Come on that’s not concrete.”
“But this is,” Dean interjected with seriousness. “The lock on our specimen freezer was crushed. It was, shall we say, sealed closed. Robbie finally broke into it for us. We had in there isolated virus samples, four from each strain. Joe . . .” Dean took a breath. “A vial of each strain is missing.”
Joe kept his eyes on Dean. All sarcasm, scoffing was gone. “So what you’re saying is, if by some chance, last week the society didn’t have the virus they’re supposed to hit us with . . . they do now?”
“Yes.” Dean said solemnly.
With a slow breath that echoed through his nostrils, Joe placed his hands in his pockets. He nodded his head, opened his mouth, raised a finger to speak, but said nothing. Merely releasing a soft chuckle of ‘it figures’, Joe shook his head, turned and walked out. It wasn’t a time to be amused, but the time machine produced such a comedy of errors, Joe couldn’t help but laugh . . . all the way out.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Beginnings, Montana
Slamming of hands. Raised voices. It was an argument over the point to ‘connect the dots’ that sent Frank into a heated frenzy with the tiny Dean pr
odigy Billy. But even though the hour of bedtime was the ending point, Frank felt strongly that he won the debate. He stared at the picture for a moment and laid it back on the dining room table.
“You really should argue with him. He’s only six,” Ellen said as she walked by him. “Wanna sit with me until Henry gets here?”
“I’d love to. We haven’t talked all day.” Frank followed her into the living room. “Henry’s not really going to try that contraption on you, is he?”
“Test it, yes.” Ellen sat down. “He thinks he can make the baby hear us.” She saw Frank roll his eyes. “No, Frank. He’s doing it for you too. You got him so excited about this. He’s acting like a new parent.”
“I just wanted him to take the midnight cravings and afternoon snack duty. That’s all.” Frank joined her on the couch. “But him getting all neurotic makes me relive that. It’s kind of fun. It’s a feeling you lose after the first baby. And him running around has given some of that back to me. I hear Dean’s not real happy about it.”
“Dean and Henry aren’t the best of friends. Of course, Dean’s reaction is that you two are forgetting it’s his baby and . . . change of subject. How’s the leg?”
“Sore but fine. Fuckin Robbie and his investigation.”
Ellen snickered, “He’s driving me nuts up at the lab too. Walk between the lines and such. But he does look really cute when he’s all serious. I watch him through the glass. He’s cute.”
“Swell.” Frank faced her. “Guess what I was thinking about today?” He smiled. “
“Another change of subject? Wow, Frank, you’re Mr. Conversationalist tonight.”
“I am,” Frank said proudly. “Valentine’s Day. I looked at the date and thought, hey, we don’t have Valentine’s Day in Beginnings. And I started thinking about the first one we had. Remember?”
State of Time: Beginnings Series Book 6 Page 37