The Big Ten: The First Ten Books of the Beginnings Series Page 42

  Ellen squinted as she tried to read Dean’s handwriting. “It must be important, for you to be working on it for a year.”

  “It’s important to me. Unfortunately, it hasn’t had my complete attention. Other things are more important.”

  “But now you have me again. What is it?”

  “Ellen.” Dean sprang from his seat and took the paper from her. “Why are you doing this? You never come in here anymore, let alone show any interest in my work.”

  “Fine.” Ellen lifted her hands and stepped back from him. “Fine. I’m sorry. I’ll leave. But the next time you whine I pay no attention to you, don’t think I won’t bring this day up in my defense.” Ellen turned toward the door, she reached for the handle and opened it.

  “It’s a way to jump start the heart, after it stops beating.”

  Ellen’s attention was caught. She shut the door and turned to face him. “Almost like an adrenaline?” She walked to him.

  “Better. I’m hoping.” He noticed the interest on Ellen’s face. “You really want to hear this?”

  “Yes.” She pulled up a stool and sat next to him. “In what way do you mean better?”

  “Well, adrenaline, injected directly into the heart will jump start it. In a person with a strong heart, that worked fine. It gave them the boost they needed, and the heart beats on. Then came problem number one. Any supply we had of adrenaline became useless three years ago. Problem two. If we had adrenaline, it wouldn’t work on someone who had a massive coronary, or say someone who had a trauma and lost a lot of blood. Those candidates, their hearts are too weak to pump the blood needed. With my P.C.R.S., one dose to start the heart, and lesser dosages, say at one hour intervals to keep the heart pumping, so the body can recover.”

  Ellen smiled at him. “Dean, this is really great. Does it work?”

  “I guess, it’s still not perfected. It’s never been tried on a human. At first I had the overkill effect. Man, I was exploding hearts all over this lab. I’d inject the heart. Boom. Blood was everywhere. Then I calculated the dosage with the weight. And it worked. Sort of. The heart stopped in ten minutes. So I administered smaller dosages and was able to keep the subject alive like that. That was, of course, until I stopped the P.C.R.S.. Then they bit it.” Dean was proud of his explanation, but was surprised at the puzzled look upon Ellen’s face. “Did I lose you somewhere?”

  “Yes. You mentioned subjects. Who exactly were you trying this on?”

  “Rabbits, various other animals. Mostly rabbits. We’re overrun with them.”

  Ellen started laughing. “Good thing for you the animal rights movement is dead.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “You really killed bunnies, then exploded their hearts?” she asked.

  “You’re making it sound rather raw. It’s science. And it’s a science we need.”

  “I know that. Better not tell our kids though. Alexandra and Billy would have a fit if they found out your mad scientist tortuous means to furry animals.”

  “Alexandra, yes. Billy, no. He’s too much like me.”

  “True.” Ellen smiled with pride at him. “I’m so impressed, Dean. No. In fact I’m proud of you.” She leaned to him and kissed him. “You’ll really make a difference. And with this P.S. C.R., ”

  “P.C.R.S.” Dean corrected her.

  “Whatever. I’m complimenting you here, take it. You said it’s important to you, is it because of your father?”

  “A little. Yeah. My Dad probably wouldn’t have lived even if I was there when he took his heart attack. But a young man or woman who just had a bad deal, may get that chance that right now our medical technology won’t allow.”

  “Like Carl last year.”

  Dean closed his eyes. “Yes. Carl shouldn’t have died. He wouldn’t have in the old world. But he lost so much blood when the survivors killed him. By the time Frank found him . . .”

  “There was no turning it back.” Ellen sighed a breath to change the conversation’s demeanor. “But now, with this drug, you will save lives.” She touched his hand. “How did you make it?”

  Dean’s other hand covered hers. “It’s complicated. But the basic ingredient was epinephrine taken from the glands of . . .” His eyes raised and he stopped speaking.

  Ellen waited. “Of? Dean? Of? Did you forget?”

  Frank’s voice gave the answer to the question as he walked in the lab. “He’s mesmerized right now at the magnitude of my presence.”

  Dean rolled his eyes in slight irritation. “Keep using big words Frank, people might think you made it past the third grade.” Releasing Ellen’s hand, Dean stood up. “Why are you in my lab?”

  “Why is Ellen here?” Frank asked.

  “Ellen works here.”

  “No, she doesn’t.”

  “She does now,” Dean said smug and grinned when he saw the surprised shifting eyes Frank gave to Ellen. “Frank?”

  Frank stepped slowly to Ellen. “You’re working with him again? I thought he kicked you out.”

  Dean laughed in disbelief. “Is that what you told him?”

  Ellen bit her bottom lip. It was time to change the subject. “Frank. Why are you here?”

  Frank slowly breathed out. “I’m pissed. And I need you to tell me I’m right.”

  Ellen nodded. “You’re right.”

  “Thank you.” Frank smiled and stepped back. “I have to go find Jonas.”

  Dean looked quickly back and forth. “Wait a second. Just like that? El, you don’t even know what you told him he was right about.”

  “Yes, I do. It can only be one thing. Has to be about . . . it.”

  Frank nodded. “Exactly.”

  “It?” Dean questioned.

  “It.” Frank reiterated. “It has been given a new job. It now has access to too much shit. It can’t be . . .”

  Dean shot up a hand halting Frank. “You have got to talk to someone about this obsession. It meaning Michelle?” Dean cringed at Frank’s vocal disgust.

  “Dean, the bitch took the van.” Frank stated.

  Dean had to laugh. “Frank, she was scared. You and Jonas found her on a survival run. You two frightened her, she took off with your van. Get over it.”

  Frank waved an arrogant finger in front of Dean. “You’ll see. She cannot be trusted and we let her in. You’ll see.” He gave a single nod and moved to the door. “El, thanks. I’ll see you tonight.”

  Dean’s eyes stayed fixed on the door until Frank was gone. He turned to Ellen. “You’re seeing him tonight?”

  “Absolutely not,” Ellen said with certainty and grabbed for notes again. “Now back to this. . . S.P.C.R.”

  “No, El, it’s P. C. . . .” He closed his eyes with a smile. “Forget it.” He snatched the notes from her hand, and gave a playful smack to the top of her head with them. Grateful they were back to working together, Dean moved easily into his scientist mode.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Gravois, Missouri

  Robbie emerged from the small lake. His nude body, numbed from the coldness of the water, ran quickly to shore to gather his clothes. He hurried and pulled on his pants and the rest of his clothing. He ran his fingers through his wet hair to steer it from hanging in his face.

  As Robbie tilted his head to one side to clear the water from his ears, he heard it. That sound. Thinking it was a figment of his imagination, he plunged his ears one more time and listened again. The sound of music. The sound of an acoustic guitar being picked with perfection carried to him from the distance.

  Robbie gathered up his belongings and followed the sound. Closer and closer it grew. As he made his way from the wooded area to the clearing, he saw a man. A black man, no more than thirty years old, sat playing his guitar while sitting on a fallen tree in the midst of a well set-up camp site. He was alone, except for a horse tied to a tree twenty or so feet away.

  Robbie neared him, slow and mesmerized. The man played so well, his head swayed back and forth, eyes closed as his
fingers took each string. He stopped playing when he heard Robbie approach.

  Robbie cleared his throat so he could speak, he hadn’t spoken in days. “No. Don’t stop.” Robbie’s voice was soft and deep, unlike his brother Frank’s, whose voice seemed to bellow on every word. “Please.” Robbie sat down across from the man, the small fire separated them.

  When he finished his song, the man looked up at Robbie. “You like?”

  “I . . . uh, yeah.” Robbie cleared his throat again. “I used to play. But things keep happening to my guitars.”

  “I know that.” He smiled. “Paul.” He set his guitar off to his side and rested it on the tree. He then extended his hand to Robbie.

  A hand shake? Robbie could not recall the last time he shook someone’s hand. No one he met had ever offered him their hand. “Robbie, Robbie Slagel.” Robbie shook the hand. Paul gripped it firmly, a sign to Robbie, that this man was different. “Play some more.”

  “I will. But . . . lunch is done. Why don’t you play?” Paul grabbed the guitar and handed it to Robbie, then lifted the lid from the frying pan which sat upon the metal grate over the fire. An aroma of well-cooked food blew outward. “Want some? I have plenty.”

  Why the man was being so civil, Robbie did not know. It was odd, he was different from anyone else he had ever met. Taking the guitar, Robbie held it all right, but it had been so long since he had played he felt awkward. He placed it down. “If you’re sure.”

  “I am. Of course it’s rabbit, the meat of choice.”

  Robbie smiled at Paul. “The only plentiful meat you mean.”

  “Right.” Paul removed the frying pan from the fire and placed it on the ground. He pulled from a bag, which sat next to him, two tin plates, and forks. He served up a helping to Robbie and handed it to him.

  Robbie stared at the fork, it had been a long time since he used eating utensils. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he saw someone use a fork.

  “Something wrong?” Paul asked.

  “A fork.” Robbie turned it about. “You’re different from the other wanderers I’ve met.”

  “Wanderers?”

  “Yeah. People who go from place to place moving around. I’ve met lots of them. Never anyone like you. You have it together.” Robbie stared at his food, then awkwardly took his fork, plunged it into his meat, and shoved it in his mouth. “It’s like you’re on vacation.”

  Paul began to laugh. “I’m not a wanderer. I guess you can say I am on vacation. You see, I live in Texas. There’s a small town down there where some survivors have gathered. Anyway, Texas is hot. So every April I head north for awhile.

  There was something about Paul that intrigued Robbie. Something likeable and civil. “April? How do you keep track of time?”

  Paul lifted his sleeve and showed Robbie a monstrous watch. “I’ll probably be lost when this finally goes. But it lets me know the time, day, month.”

  “What day is it?” Robbie asked.

  “April 29th.” Paul pulled down his sleeve and began to eat.

  “You mentioned that you live in a town, a town that survivors had gathered.” Robbie placed down his plate and pulled the pictures from his pocket. “Have you seen these two men?”

  Paul took the photographs and stared at them.

  “See they’re my family. I know they are alive. I found proof of that. But they moved on and I don’t know where they went. Have you seen them?”

  Paul shook his head. “No man, sorry.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. I’d remember this one.” He indicated to Frank’s photo as he handed it back to Robbie. “He looks like a big guy and mean. I’d remember if I met him.”

  “Yeah, you would remember Frank.” Robbie put them back in his pocket. “Thanks. It’s just that I haven’t searched Texas yet, and you mentioned survivors. I just thought, well, you know.”

  “Sorry.” Paul noticed the disappointment on Robbie’s face. “Is that what you are doing? Are you searching for them?”

  “Since about four months post-plague.”

  “Holy shit.” Paul was astonished. “That’s a long time to be looking. And you haven’t given up yet?”

  “I’ll never give up. I know they’re alive. I have to keep looking. I have nothing else to do.” Robbie picked up his lunch and continued to eat.

  Beginnings, Montana

  Soft spoken and meek was how Jonas Lyons talked when he was relaxed and not in the ‘security guy’ mode. And even though it was health related in his visit to the clinic, he still was relaxed. He was quite used to his frequent checkups and blood work done by Andrea Winters, the woman appointed a doctor after William Hayes had passed on. Her years of experience in the nursing field, and compassion, made her the best one to care for the ill in Beginnings.

  “Jonas.” Andrea closed the chart as she spoke softly. “You know there is no change.”

  Jonas smiled gently. “I know. I didn’t think there would be.” He reached for his shirt.

  “This . . . this . . . disease.” Andrea closed her eyes. “Dean is continuously working on it. He’s trying. It bothers him he’s not making progress.”

  A chuckle escaped Jonas. “Andrea, tell Dean don’t worry. If the doctors in the old world couldn’t make progress, with what we have, how can he expect to.” Readying to place on his security shirt, Jonas looked up to see Frank approach the open examining room door. “Hey, Frank.”

  “You ready?” Frank pointed back with his thumb. “We have rounds in the underdeveloped to do.” He watched Jonas nod, then Frank shifted his eyes to Andrea. “Hey, Andrea.”

  Andrea slammed the chart, glared at Frank with such a motherly scold, then turned her back again.

  “Ouch,” Frank said sarcastic. “Did I do something?”

  Andrea faced him with slightly rolling eyes. “Oh, no Francis Slagel, you never do anything.” She grabbed her things and brushed by Frank out the door. “Excuse me.”

  Lifting his hands in question to a snickering Jonas, Frank shook his head and stepped into the hall. “Andrea. Stop.” He took a few steps to her when she halted. If she was upset, he wanted to know. After all, she was like the mother of the community. “What did I do?” he asked.

  Andrea turned and looked at him. “We are a close knit community, Frank. Us ‘originals’ we’re a family chain. I hate to think a member has caused a kink.”

  “Did . . . did someone else do something?”

  “No. You!” she snapped. “You’re up to your shit again. Stop it. Stop it now, Frank. Dean is my friend. Joe all but told me. That affair you and Ellen had last year, he said it didn’t stop.”

  Frank stared at Andrea for a moment. He wanted to tell her to mind her own business. But seeing he had too much respect for her he opted for lying and playing dumb. “What affair?”

  Andrea growled and even though she was a black woman, the red grew on her face. “You’re causing problems, Mr. Slagel. You are not all that. And if you were, you’d either stop it right now, or you’d be man enough to own up. Make a change and do things right.” With strong final words and not wanting to frustrate herself any further by talking to Frank, Andrea stormed off.

  Jonas softly cleared his throat. “She impresses me with her tact.” Giving a pat to Frank’s back, Jonas walked by him. “Let’s go do those rounds.”

  The fading vision of Andrea moving away down the hall were where Frank’s focus stayed. He hesitated before following Jonas. Frank was frozen there in thought over the unexpected, scolding words of a woman he really respected.

  ***

  Joe tapped his pencil on his desk in disappointment as he heard the sound of the helicopter fly overhead. He looked across his desk to Henry who sat with him in his office. “They didn’t have any luck, Henry. They radioed in about fifteen minutes ago.”

  “Joe what do you expect? You’re only sending them out to get criteria fitting men. Did they stop to talk to anyone?” Henry Kusakari, an Asian man who looked yo
unger than his thirty-three years, always searched for the right answer for everything. He was known amongst Beginnings as the ‘original’ with theoretical rationalization.

  “Nope. They said they didn’t see a soul.”

  “Maybe they’ll have better luck next time.”

  “Yeah, they’re going out Monday, they said they’ll go farther south and see.” Joe pulled one of his homemade cigarettes from his pocket and lit it. “So what brings you in here?”

  “I brought back the walkie talkie’s I repaired. Tell Frank I don’t know what he’s doing to his, but I can’t keep fixing them. Also, just wanted to let you know mechanics is making batteries again. It’s always a big task. Do you have any people you think could do this menial work?”

  “Sorry.” Joe shook his head as he rocked back and forth in his chair smoking his cigarette. “Maybe one of the new survivors, everyone else is placed already.”

  “Speaking of which, that new lady Michelle, she’s brilliant. She really knows electronics. I think she’ll be useful. I’m glad you finally put her with us in mechanics. Michelle’s nice.”

  Joe squinted. “Do me a favor Henry, don’t mention those comments in the presence of Frank, will ya’? The reason she worked the greenhouses for so long is because I didn’t want to argue with him.”

  “I won’t Joe. I know he’s neurotic about her.”

  “Neurotic is putting it nicely. I just thank God we only have one Frank. He’s odd enough” Joe quickly looked up when the door to his office opened. Johnny Slagel, a picture perfect younger version of his father peeked his head in and tossed Joe a set of keys.

  “Hey, Pap, just wanted to check in and say sorry about the nil run.” He spoke rather hurried. “It’s really dead out there. See ya.” He laughed and pulled the door closed.

  Joe nodded, leaned back at his chair and looked to Henry who was trying not to laugh. “Forget that last ‘Frank’ comment.”

  Gravois, Missouri

  “Smoke?” With an after meal grunt, Paul reached for his bag, opened it and pulled out a rolled up cigarette, he showed it to Robbie.