And Then ... Farewell (Beginnings Series Book 22) Read online

  Jess snickered. “A quiz?”

  “Oh, yeah, out of place people in a new world. That is so them. Julie is excused from watching the movie because she does that cat screaming thing and it bothers people.”

  Jess nodded. “Richie told me about her.”

  “Fort is …” Ellen paused. “Fort…” She looked at her watch. “Fuck. Joe never brought him back.”

  “I just saw them head into the Social Hall.” Jess said.

  “With Fort the new guy?” Ellen asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Problem?” Jess asked

  “Um, yeah, Fort is still a Containment resident and I have not recommended his release.”

  Nervously, Jess said, “Wouldn’t Joe know?”

  “No.” Ellen replied. “He’s not in here. He’s all delusional thinking Fort is from the future. Gees. Ask Dean. He has a great story about how Robbie showed up in Beginnings and was bad and Joe released him from Containment too soon.”

  “Ellen,” Jess folded his arms. “If you guys went back to the past. And to the future. Why do you find it hard to believe Fort is from the future?”

  “Because he’s too new. Nothing he tells us makes sense or goes along with the future Dean and I saw. And …” she grabbed her keys. “I’ll be back.”

  “Where are you going?” Jess asked.

  “To get my resident. Leader of this community or not, I run Containment. And Joe needs to let me handle this. Seriously, you never know what can happen and I am giving those Slagels a piece of my mind.” She stormed out. “Take my guy…”

  Dean followed.

  “You aren’t waiting?” Jess asked.

  “You kidding?” Dean smiled. “I want to see this one. There’s nothing better than watching Joe get annoyed.”

  ***

  Joe heard he was there, and that was why he went. More or less. But when they arrived, Danny Hoi was nowhere to be found… and neither was Sam the mannequin bartender.

  “Just doesn’t seem right,” Joe said she stood behind the bar pouring drinks. “Fort?”

  “Um …” Fort bit his lip. “I’ve never had alcohol. It’s illegal in our province.”

  Joe paused. “You’re shitting me.”

  Hal laughed. “Obviously, the Slagel reign came to an end.”

  “Well …” Joe poured Fort a drink. “It’s not against the law here, it’s the norm.”

  The door to the Social Hall opened, and Danny Hoi walked in holding Sam. He paused. “Wow, you guys are early tonight.”

  “Actually,” Joe said. “We heard you were here, and we need to speak to you.”

  Danny produced a crooked smile and an airy chuckle as he carried Sam behind the bar. He set down the mannequin and looked. Frank, Hal, Joe, Robbie. Danny shook his head. The Slagels were joined by Jason and the new guy. “Why do I always feel like I’m in trouble when the Slagels seek me out?”

  Before Joe could answer, Fort let out a gasp. “Oh my God, Sam.” He spoke in awe and walked behind the bar.

  Curiously, Joe looked at his son. “Something special about Sam?”

  “Yeah, this is great. He’s in the Beginnings Museum.” Fort reached out to touch him. “One of the things saved.”

  Quickly, and quirkily Joe glance at Jason. The ‘saved’ wording triggered curiosity and Joe readied to fire away.

  Then Ellen blasted in.

  “A ha!” She yelled. “Oh!” She stormed over to Fort who held a drink. “You are not to be drinking.” She snatched the drink from his hand.

  “Hold it Missy Jane …” Joe held up his hand.

  “Don’t hold it Missy Jane me!” Ellen snapped. "He is my resident Joe. You stole him. He isn’t supposed to be out and about in Beginnings. Not yet. He hasn’t been evaluated. You just don’t know.” She grabbed Fort’s arm. “Let’s go. Back to Containment. She fired a glare at the wall of Slagels. “And no lip from any of you.”

  Frank shrugged. “Nothing from me.”

  Robbie smile. “Me either.”

  Hal nodded with a wink. “You know best.”

  Joe lifted his glass. “You’re right. Take him.”

  “Oh,” Ellen wisped out in surprise then composed herself back to her staunch manner. “We’re leaving and don’t take him again.” She tugged on Fort who looked helpless as he was pulled out.

  Over his shoulder Joe looked, to see Dean in the doorway, shaking his head. “What?”

  “Nothing.” Dean walked out.

  “We need to find him more of a purpose,” Joe said as he downed his drink.

  “Joe.” Danny spoke up. “You didn’t give Ellen a hard time.”

  “Nah,” Joe poured another. “Why would I want to cause myself the aggravation and give Dean the pleasure? because that’s why he was here. Besides,” Joe sipped. “We got what we needed.”

  “Did we?” Jason asked. “He did mention the museum.”

  “Shit.” Joe cringed. “That’s right. But … right now...” He grinned widely. “Danny, our man. We have a favor.”

  Danny chuckled at first, then the chuckle turned into a nervous smile when he was faced with the ‘sneaky’ grins of the early Social Hall dwellers.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  March 4th

  The late night thunderstorm that moved into Beginnings added to the backdrop of the already dramatic playing of Italian Opera.

  Not that Danny knew Italian, but he felt the singer and had the urge to listen while he worked. Almost immediately, barring other important items, Danny began to work on the items or rather tasks asked of him.

  The first was easy. Recording the message that would play from the future. But he had to do so in a means that would allow him to tweak the sound and pull it in once it had been recorded. According to Jason, the first message wasn’t clear. Danny wanted to be prepared. Plus, he was pretty excited about hearing the message from the future.

  Before midnight had even rolled around he had that problem solved. However, the goggles were a different thing.

  He too, recommended just using thermo sights, which Robbie had made a run for. Guards walking in Beginnings and in Bowman, along with bordering towns would use them. But as Fort quickly pointed out and concurred by Frank, there were many ways, multitudes of the invisible predators could hide their numbers. Lying flat, lining up … in truth, the only way to really see them was for Danny to invent the goggles. He kept telling himself he did it in the future when he was really old.

  Perhaps, the Hoi Visions were invented, right there in present day Beginnings and just tucked away.

  Perhaps the trip back in time was the really reason for the invention of the invisible suits.

  All the things from the future triggered themselves.

  Yet, Fort had given little information, not wanting to change much.

  Inadvertently, he had already done so.

  He had to learn the fabric and what made it work. It wasn’t going to be as easy of as the recording task.

  The glove was handy, and Danny had some fun with it at first, but it wasn’t enough. Somewhere around three in the morning, totally frustrated, he called Frank.

  He needed more than the gloves. He needed a suit.

  Frank couldn’t promise one right away. But he promised he would try.

  That’s all Danny needed. And until Frank could deliver the suit, Danny kept working.

  ***

  The call from Danny rejuvenated an excitement in Frank. It was never the thrill of the kill as much as the skill of the hunt, and he was about to be the mighty hunter.

  He wore dark camouflage, dirtied his face, walked to a good distance of the perimeter, and belly crawled his way there. He kept a scope of view wearing thermo sights of what laid beyond the Killer Baby fence.

  He waited there until he knew it was clear, had them down the perimeter, and slipped through.

  He literally had to watch his back, so Frank parked his body, well hidden, in the section. His rifle and revolver never fa
r from reach, his back pressed against a tree, while he kept his ears open, listening for any and all sounds.

  The invisible predators may have been invisible, but they had to make noise.

  Frank waited. If they were there, he would see them.

  All he needed was one.

  He did a lot of reflecting as he sat there. Easter was approaching, and Frank started thinking about candy. How he wished Beginnings could get that chocolate taste right when it came to candy. But they didn’t. He wanted the return of M&M’s badly, but knew no one could replicate them.

  He thought about his impending wedding to Ellen, and how if he could he wouldn’t invite everyone in town. But it was going to be a big event, and since everyone was kicking in on cooking, Frank figured ‘why not’.

  Somewhere around the time, where the sky hinted a bit of light and changed into its post-rain morning color, Frank spotted it.

  A beat of red, moving in and out of the trees.

  “Oh, yeah,” Frank whispered. “Come a little closer.”

  The red speck shined like a beacon of light and Frank adjusted the silencer, raising his revolver.

  Quick and easy, Frank took aim on his target. The red was all he could see and that was enough. One shot was all it took and the target went down. At least Frank hoped.

  He crawled his way to where the body fell, and had it not looked as if seeping blood was floating in air, Frank would have never found the body.

  He did.

  Killing one was the easy part, the trick was going to be getting it into Beginnings.

  ***

  The list was pretty simple. Nine names.

  Andrea

  Ellen

  Frank

  Ben from Fabrics

  Jason

  Gemma

  Josephine

  Elliott Ryder

  Brian

  The nine individuals who were successfully cloned, and not one mention of the individual Joe assumed would be on there. Perhaps Dean tried, and that cloning failed. Obviously.

  But he had a list. A list of potential individuals who could easily slip in to Beginnings, remain unnoticed, and have the intelligence to pull off capers.

  Frank was out.

  So was Josephine for that matter. She was out merely because the clone wouldn’t be her age.

  The one person Joe thought would grace that list made the most sense. He could slip in, have the knowledge, and it would explain the ‘I saw him’ there comments that didn’t make sense.

  But unfortunately, Dean wasn’t on the successful clone list.

  It still left eight individuals.

  Joe created a chart. List of reasons why they could be the culprit clone and why they couldn’t.

  The point of his pencil snapped, and Joe reached to his pencil holder. Not a single one was sharpened. “Goddamn it.” He stood up.

  How many times did he walk into it? That stupid old style, twist arm pencil sharpener that Frank mounted on the side of the file cabinet. Bump into it, curse Frank, rub his arm, go to his desk and curse Frank again.

  After a stretch, Joe made his way to that pencil sharpener. It worked well, and as he blew the shavings from the pencil, he caught a glimpse. It made him do a double take. The sight of Frank.

  What was wrong with him?

  He knew there was something seriously wrong with his son, but Joe figured that to be only on the mental level.

  Was he playing with the DNA monster again?

  Joe had to wonder.

  Frank’s face was dirty, he had goggles on top of his head, all his ‘Rambo Gear’ as Hal put it, strapped to him, but that wasn’t it.

  Usually Frank walked egotistically straight. Near perfect posture, a strut that Joe hated. Only on occasion would Frank lean in his walk. When he was tired or being sneaky and joking around. But this time it was neither.

  Frank leaned in his walk all right, but strangely. He carried his weapon, arm swinging his rifle in his stride, but he leaned more toward the left, head tilted, arm raised, with his hand, shoulder level, pointing to his own temple.

  Joe opened the door. “Frank.”

  “Oh … hey, Dad.” Frank stopped. At that brief pause, he shuddered slightly with a tiny hop. “You’re up early on a Sunday.”

  “You, too.” Joe ‘upped his chin with the question. “You okay?”

  “Uh, sure.” Frank nearly grunted out the answer.

  “You look like you’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

  Frank chuckled, grunted, hopped. “Feels that way. Fuck.”

  “It really looks that way. Were you straining when it happened. Lifting something heavy?”

  “Not really heavy or straining. Just awkward. You know.”

  Joe nodded.

  I’m gonna ….” A grunt. “Head into town and see what Dean can do with this.”

  “That’s not a bad idea.” Joe pointed. “Let me know what he says.”

  “Okay. I will. See ya’”

  Joe watched Frank twist his body, do that strange small jump and walk on. After shaking his head, and hoping everything works out, Joe returned to his office.

  ***

  Dean loved working with Ellen, but absolutely hated when she did that little gasp of offense without saying anything else.

  He was seated at the clinic lab counter, when he heard it. “What?” he asked in response to the gasp.

  “What is this?” Ellen asked at the door.

  “Oh, Andrea is posting patient duties. Appointments we get. We’re on today.”

  Another gasp.

  “Ellen.” Dean turned around. “It’s six patients.”

  “Yeah, but I have my own patients in other towns.”

  “And you have duties here.”

  “I don’t see your name on this list. I see me assigned to all these.”

  “I’m emergencies.” Dean retreated to his work.

  “Oh, sure, you get …hmm.”

  “What?”

  “There is a bright spot.”

  “What would that be?” Just as Dean asked he was greeted with a cup of coffee. He lifted his eyes and smiled. “Thanks, El.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “So I’m the bright spot?”

  “Huh?”

  “You said there is a bright spot.”

  “Oh. No. Not you.” She saw his smile drop. “You’re always a bright spot Dean. But I meant to the exam day. Looks like Hap needs a cystoscopy.”

  “And that’s a bright spot how?”

  Ellen shrugged. "There’s something so empowering about inserting that tube into the man. Watching him squirm. Having total control over ….”

  “All right. All right.”

  Ellen giggled. “How was the Christopher testing this morning?”

  “It went well. Then again, it is really hard to test for sure. But I think I may have successfully blocked it. As long as he takes the block he won’t mutate.”

  “But you need a real test.”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “You’re gonna love me.” Ellen said brightly.

  “Why?”

  Sneakily, after a snicker, she walked over to the other counter, opened the drawer and pulled out a folder. “My surprise for you.” She laid the folder down for Dean.

  He read the words. “Classified? Our eyes only.”

  “And Christopher’s. Go on take a peak. I got Jenny to agree to …”

  Dean shrieked when he opened the folder. He immediately shut it.

  Ellen continued. “Agreed to do nude shots for Chris.”

  “This is just wrong.” Dean slid the folder over to her.

  “But will it work?”

  “Probably.”

  “That’s all that matters.”

  “I’m getting coffee.” Dean stood up and walked across the lab. “Want some?”

  “Yes, please.”

  No sooner was Dean out of the lab, Ellen heard the call of her name accompanied by a ‘Can you come he
re please?’ she stepped out into the hall, Dean was staring down toward the door.

  “What’s up?” She asked.

  “What’s wrong with Frank? Did he get hurt?”

  Ellen looked. Her head tilted in the same manner as Dean’s, and nearly the same way as Frank’s. His leaning body neared the double glass doors.

  “He looks hurt,” dean said.

  “Yeah he does.”

  They watched. Frank reached the double glass doors, stopped, set down his rifle, opened the door and walked in. But he walked in sideways.

  “Why is his arm up like that?” Dean asked.

  “God, I hope he didn’t throw his back out,” Ellen replied.

  “Frank? Throw his back out?” Dean shook his head. “I would be shocked.”

  They stood there as Frank made his way to them.

  “Hey, Dean. El.” Frank grunted, hopped and twisted. “You have an examining room open for this.”

  “Uh …” Dean stammered. “Yeah, Frank, room two. Go on in.”

  “Thanks. I need to take care of this.” He handed Ellen his rifle, “Can you hold this? Thanks.”

  “Sure.” Ellen’s arm dropped with the weight of the weapon.

  Watching Frank open the door to the examining room, Dean turned to Ellen. “You want to see what happened?”

  “I’m holding his gun. Yes.”

  The door remained open, and Ellen and Dean reached the archway just at the point where Frank released a grunt, and the examining table rattled with a thump.

  “Frank?” Dean questioned as he stepped in the room. “You straightened out.”

  “Yes, Dean, I did that many years ago.”

  “Huh?” Dean scratched his head. “You ... you were walking crooked.”

  “Fuck, Dean, you would too if you were carrying an I.F.I.”

  “A …”

  “I.F.I.”

  “Frank? What the hell is an Iffy?”

  Frank huffed as if Dean should have known. “It’s an anagram.”

  “An anagram.”

  “Invisible Fuckin Idiot.”

  “You mean it’s an acronym.” Dean stated.

  “What is?” Frank asked.

  “The name Iffy. It’s an acronym. Not anagram.”