Ellen clung to Henry. “No!” She screamed tearfully. “Henry. No. Not the baby.”
Holding Ellen, Henry moved his eyes to Dean as the jeep bumped and banged in his journey. “What is that?”
Dean silently shook his head. “Jason? Do you have your phone?”
“Yes.” He pulled it from his pocket.
“Call the clinic. Tell them to prepare a room for an emergency cesarean.” He looked back at Henry, then straight ahead banging his hand on the steering wheel emotionally.
^^^^
John Matoose walked into the communications room sipping his coffee as he did. “Hey Mark, take a break.”
“Already?” Mark turned from the monitor. “I thought I had another half hour.”
“Nah.” John walked up to behind him. “I had time, take the break now.”
“Thanks,” Mark smiled. “It’s so boring anyhow. Well, all except when the people in this town keep calling each other. Then it’s a pain in the ass because you have to pull it up to check and make sure it’s no one nearby.”
“Joe said he’s working on that.” John took the seat that Mark freed up.
“O.K., well I’m ought of here for some fresh air. See you in an hour.”
“Take your time.” John raised his hand in a wave as Mark left. He leaned back in his chair, stared at the monitor, and sipped his coffee more.
^^^^
Like a dare devil on a stunt run, Frank sped through the back gate recklessly and quickly, screeching the bike to a sliding sideways stop when he saw Johnny in the jeep. “John. What’s going on?”
“Dad.” Johnny was out of breath. “She doubled over in pain. She . . . she started bleeding really bad Dad. It’s . . .” With a loud rev up of the engine and a screech, Frank sped off again, leaving nothing but dust and Johnny behind him.
^^^^
“Get her on the table now!” Dean charged out as they burst through the glass doors of the clinic. “Where is Andrea?”
Patrick stood by the Gurney. “She’s in an appendectomy.” He watched Henry lay Ellen down. He handed Dean a fetal scope as Dean neared.
Dean lifted Ellen’s shirt, holding his hand up to silence everyone. “Get her to a room. Get her ready! Stat!”
Henry, holding Ellen’s hand, ran with the Gurney. “Dean, please, tell me it . . .”
“Dean!” Joe flung open the doors racing down the hall after them. His hand barely touched Ellen’s leg as the cart was wheeled faster and away. “Dear God. Dean.” He grabbed him. “What’s happening?”
“Joe.” Dean walked backwards. “I can’t . . .”
“Dean, please.”
Taking a breath through his nostrils Dean stopped walking. “I believe her placenta has detached. It’s not good Joe. Though the baby is early, that isn’t what the problem is. We’re losing her and . . . the baby’s heart rate is weak.” Dean spun around.
“Dean, please.” Joe grabbed his arm. “Do everything you can. You hear me. Everything you can to help Ellen. I lost my wife this way. Don’t let me lose a daughter too.”
“I’ll give it my life Joe.” Knowing what he had to face would be the hardest thing he ever had to do, Dean flew into the operating room. “Jason, you preparing for a spinal? I need her awake.”
“I’m on it Dean.” Jason held a syringe.
“Good.” He looked as Patrick and Henry undressed Ellen. “Patrick, hook her up.”
“Doing it.”
Dean ran over to the sink and began to scrub his hands. “Henry when you’re done, you’ll have to go.”
“No.” Henry dropped Ellen’s clothes to the floor and helped Patrick cover her.
“Henry. You can’t stay!” Dean moved to the table.
“I’m not leaving her Dean.” Henry kept his stares on Ellen. “I’m not. She’s my friend. I’m staying.”
It was not a moment to argue and Dean knew it. He moved to the operating table. “Fine, then stay. But you’ll help. Roll her on her side Henry. Jason . . .” Dean held out his hand. “The needle.” He received it. “Patrick, I need you to go out into the hall and let them know what’s going on. Then find Andrea.” Dean checked out the syringe and then Ellen’s bare back counting up the lumbar region to his spot. “Hold her tight Henry, this will be painful.”
Henry wrapped himself around a shaking Ellen. “Hold tight.”
“Henry.” She whimpered. “I’m so sacred. I’m so scared.”
“El, you’ll be fine. I’m right here.” Henry closed his eyes as Dean injected the anesthesia into her spine.
“Done.” Dean tossed the syringe. He helped Henry roll Ellen on her back. “Jason, bring over the tray.” He adjusted the blankets to expose only Ellen’s stomach. While Jason brought over the cart, Dean lifted the fetal monitor to Ellen’s stomach. He moved it around. “Shit!” He dropped it harshly. “We have to go in and we have to go in now. I lost the baby’s heartbeat.”
The sound of his heavy boots preceded him as Frank raced with his heart down the hall of the clinic. He saw his father standing outside of the operating room. “Dad.”
“Frank.” Joe looked so distraught.
“Tell me. Tell me everything is O.K.”
Joe shook his head. “It’s not good Frank. They’re in there now. They’re taking the baby.”
“Oh God.” Frank’s head dropped. “How is she? How is Ellen?” He saw his father shake his head slowly and Frank’s heart dropped. He walked over by the operating room door running his hand across it. “Please let her be all right.” Frank leaned into the wall resting his head there. And silently and to himself he prayed.
“Henry, how is Ellen?” Dean asked, shifting his eyes up. “Henry?”
Henry wiped the back of his hand across his eyes. “She’s holding in there Dean.”
“Jason, her vitals.”
“Stable Dean.” Jason watched the monitor.
“I’m in.” Dean spoke as the he set the scalpel down. “Jason I need more suction, there’s lots of blood. The placenta did detach.” Avoiding Jason’s hand that brought in the tube, Dean reached for the scalpel again. “It’s clearing, I see . . .” His eyes lifted to Jason and his voice lowered. “I see the baby.” Poking a small hole in the amniotic sac, Dean set the scalpel down again. His hands reached inside Ellen’s womb, he took hold of the umbilical cord, clamping it, and cutting it. Then cautiously reaching in, he dislodged the baby boy who was curled up so tightly inside the warmth of his mother. “I have him.” Dean, grasping the baby in both of his hands lifted the newborn from Ellen. The moment he raised him above her open abdomen, Dean’s heart sunk to the pits of his soul when the little baby boy’s body, so lifelessly just flopped over his hands. Holding back his emotions that seeped into his eyes, Dean laid the baby in the awaiting blanket Jason held sadly out. “Just . . .” Dean made eye contact with Jason. “Just try.”
Henry knew, and so did Ellen. Not wanting to see Jason take the baby across the room, he closed his eyes again, hiding his pain. “Dean, how’s Ellen doing.”
I’m working on her. She’ll be fine, Henry. That’s what’s important right now. She’ll be fine.” Dean, heart racing, completed his operation on Ellen. For the first time ever in his entire career, his hands felt as if they were shaking and out of control. He wished with all of his heart he wasn’t the one in that room working on her, but a part of him wanted no one else to be.
The tears fell down Ellen’s cheek fast. “Henry, the baby.”
“No, El.” He whispered. “We can’t worry about the baby now.”
“Henry, he died.” Ellen’s eyes closed tightly.
“No El.” Henry’s voice cracked. “We can’t . . . we have to worry about you.”
Ellen began to sob, pulling at Henry for comfort, trying to drown her hurt somewhere. “I’m sorry Dean.”
Dean’s hands froze. Literally froze. Ellen was sorry? He just didn’t know what to say. If he could take away her hurt at that moment he would. But it was a world of hurt delivered in t
hat operating room. Hurt that no one could take away. Hurt that was coupled by the silence of the room. Holding back his own emotions, Dean silently worked. He knew then and there nothing would make it better, nothing except . . . the one long baby’s wail that suddenly and startling broke the deafening quiet of the room.
Dean’s hands dropped the instrument he held. Every emotion he held in, released. He could breathe. He raised his eyes to the ceiling and softly spoke. “Thank you.”
Both Ellen and Henry looked up and from their tears came an emotional laughter. They held on, both breathing heavily.
Ellen’s chest was warm, she could barely speak. “Jason, Jason, tell me?”
“He’s fine Ellen. I have him breathing normally.”
Loudly and emotionally, Henry let out the breath he held. He clenched Ellen’s face kissing her. “Yes.”
Continuing in his work, Dean worked with more enthusiasm. The entire air of the room had suddenly changed with that one simple cry, the one cry that now turned into several. “Apgar reading Jason.”
“Slow.” Jason answered. “But within normal range now. Tiny kid. Tiny, tiny kid.” Jason chuckled. “Four pounds seven ounces. But alive. This little boy is alive.”
Frank’s head lifted when he heard it, it rang through him like a shot. “Dad?” He turned around and faced Joe. “Dad?”
“Music to our ears, Frank.” Slowly Joe walked to his son, embracing him tightly. “That is a good sign.”
^^^^
Former Quantico Marine Headquarters
Steward, holding a phone, nodded and handed it to George. “The call is safe.”
Perturbed at the chance the Beginnings person took, George grabbed the phone. “Yes?”
“It’s me.” The whispering voice spoke from the other line. “I wanted to let you know they are on their way.”
“Good. This is perfect.” George looked at his watch. “And be secure in the fact that, if our calculations are right, in a week’s time, whether they win or lose today or not, Robbie Slagel and his band of merry men will be no more.” Ending the conversation, George hung up the phone. He looked up “Stew. The next time John Matoose calls, double check he’s controlling that communications room. I want to take advantage of our opportunity to communicate.” Cupping his hands behind his head, George sat back in his chair . . . and he smiled.
^^^^
Bowman, North Dakota
The Captain chewed on the end of his pencil like it was the cigarette he didn’t want to end. Over his desk he leaned, a map spread upon it. Something was not right. Something was screaming to him to make sense out of it. “Beginnings, Montana.” He repeated staring at the map. It wasn’t listed. Was it that small? Was it renamed? Figuring that had to be it, the Captain moved his thoughts to ‘natural resources’. Like they had in Bowman, he looked for a dam or nearby lake that they were near. Finger gliding across the paper surface looking for where this Utopia could be, the Captain stopped.
His eyes looked up and he turned his head to the right. Like a sign it sat there, the Forrest Caceres novel. With a rush, the Captain grabbed the book and the map, and flew out of the office.
“Ready?” Hands behind his back, the Captain stood before Elliott’s desk.
“Yes,” Elliott nodded. “What?”
“We, you and I, Elliott, are . . . stupid!” He dropped the map and book onto Elliott’s desk. “Completely utterly, dumb. Wait. Wait until you hear how dumb we are. Oh and how we went on and on about a weapon.” The Captain chuckled.
“I am lost.” Elliott tossed his hands up. “What are you talking about?”
After opening the map and securing the rolled up edges with whatever Elliott had on his barren desk, the Captain pushed the book forward. “We missed it again. Remember we dismissed the Caceres book? We said he was name sake only? Well . . .” the Captain hit Elliott on top of the head with the book. “We’re stupid.”
‘So you’ve said. Where is this coming from?”
“I was looking for this Utopia out of curiosity. Then when I saw it, it came crashing to me like I was hit with a wall. Forrest Caceres did indeed come up with the whole basic idea. His book is about building a small community. A conceptual community designed to be self-sufficient. Food water medical, with room for growth. Communications. All secured behind a protective . . . wall.”
Elliott’s eyes lit up. “Utopia.”
“Sounds strangely similar, Elliott . . . Utopia is the enemy of the society we have been searching for.”
“How do you figure?” Elliott asked.
“Everything that survivor told us about Utopia is what Forrest Caceres described to a tee in the book. The enemy didn’t steal a weapon from the society. They stole the vital starting point. What the whole society was originally based on. . . .look.” The Captain’s finger landed on the map.
“Oh my God.” Elliott peered. “Garfield County.”
“Yes.” The Captain snapped his finger. “It makes sense, the Garfield Project isn’t a means of mass destruction it’s a place. Utopia.” With a wide smile the Captain looked at Elliott. “Guess what we immediately start looking for?”
Elliott grinned in return. “Beginnings, Montana.”
^^^^
It broke the silence of the woods like a scene from an old cowboys and Indians movie. Like hooting animals, seven of them, savages, jumped from the trees, arrows and spears in hand.
Robbie felt the first blow to his back as the loin cloth covered man leaped upon him. Flipping him over with a grunt, Robbie broke the man’s neck in the process. “Fire at will!” Robbie called out, charging forth and pulling another scavenger from Greg. He decked him, sent him to the ground, and pulled out his revolver, delivering a single blow center the scavenger’s forehead. Blood splattered upward and out, mostly covering Greg, who had rolled out of the way.
Running out to another, Robbie dodged a flying arrow, diving himself on another attacking scavenger. He picked him up, tossed him into a tree, catching the bouncing back body with a bullet, and dropping him also. Seeing that he had taken out another, Robbie held out his revolver aiming as he watched the other four go down at the hands of his men. Savages. They raped the land and took what they wanted. Why were they facing them now? This was not something they expected. This could not be what the signal led them to.
After it had ended and the wooded area became silent, Robbie and two other men began to search east while the others moved about cautiously.
“Robbie!” A voice called him from the woods, it echoed. It was Neal. “Robbie this way!”
Stopping his search, Robbie and his two men joined up with Greg as they followed the calling voice. He stopped cold when he saw Neal. Neal bent over, holding on to his knees, vomit regurgitating from his mouth. “Fuck!” Robbie looked up at what sickened Neal and another man. Hanging from the trees were eight SUTS. They hung, dried pools of blood at their feet. Dead. And by the appearance there was no doubt in Robbie’s mind that not only were they skinned alive, but half eaten as well.
“Robbie,” Greg called out, sounding so panic stricken. “There’s . . .” He emerged from behind a tree. “Our men found more. This way.”
With his men Robbie raced to what else it could possibly be. He didn’t have to see it before it hit him. The smell, the foul smell of rotting flesh filled the hot stagnant air. Covering his mouth, he moved closer to where the odor came from and he saw more savages, only these ones were not alive and running rampant. These ones were dead, dead and scattered about, lying on dirty blankets covered with dried vomit and remnants of their own waste.
By the look of the scene and the smell, Robbie knew. By the color of their faces, the sores on their bodies, the evident violent sickness they experienced. It could only be one thing. The one thing Robbie and Beginnings feared. It was without a doubt . . .the new plague.
^^^^
Beginnings, Montana
“Sweet Jesus, wait!” Andrea’s blasting voice was heard before she stepped inside th
e operating room with a whew. “I am so sorry. How is everything?”
“Finished.” Dean covered up Ellen all the way and rolled the cart off to the side.. He grabbed another blanket and handed it to Henry. “Keep her warm Henry. She’ll be just fine.”
Andrea smiled pleasantly, “How’s the baby.” She walked over to where Jason worked on the child.
“Good.” Jason covered him and picked the blanket bundle up. “Before you examine him, why don’t we let Ellen see the baby first?”
Andrea peeked. “Oh.” She giggled. “Cute. Jason, you can get the warming bed ready and tell Joe and Frank to give us a minute then they can come in.”
“I’ll do that.” Slowly and with a smile Jason handed down the baby to Ellen. “All yours. You did good.”
Henry extended his hand. “No, Jason, thank you.”
Giving one more smile, Jason left the room. As he walked into the hall, he was immediately accosted by Frank and Joe. “Hold it, hold it.” Jason held up his hand. “Mother and son are fine. Give us a few minutes and you can go in there. The baby is early but nothing we can’t handle.”
Wanting to hug Jason but deciding against it, Frank looked at his watch to time a few minutes.
Humming a few bars of some show tune, Andrea smiled. “Time’s up.” She took the baby from Ellen’s arms. “He is so cute.” She covered him up again.
Ellen’s hands still extended in a stunned manner. She said nothing.
“El.” Henry tapped her on the arm. “El? What’s wrong.”
Ellen only looked at Henry.
Scrubbed up and clean, Dean clapped his hands together and walked over to Andrea. “Can I see?”
“Nope.” Andrea shook her head. “We’ll wait for Frank. Shouldn’t we wait for Frank, Ellen?”
Ellen shook her head, her mouth still open.
Henry pushed up on her chin. “Not a becoming look, El,” He stood up. “Andrea, can I see him. No matter who’s the father, I get to help.”
State of Time: Beginnings Series Book 6 Page 47