The Big Ten: The First Ten Books of the Beginnings Series Page 44

  Jonas. He laid there, motionless, eyes staring out.

  Closing his eyes and shaking his head, Frank breathed heavily and dropped to his knees by his friend.

  ***

  The triple tumbling ‘thumps’ on the steps made Ellen stop right before she sat on the sofa. She turned to the stairs to see what caused the noise and she saw Dean standing up. She laughed. “You all right?”

  “Oh, my God. You are home,” he said, straightening himself and walking to her.

  “Um . . . yeah.” Ellen set down the glass she held. “I told you I would be.”

  “You’ve said that before.”

  “I meant it this time.” She tried to sit but Dean hurried over and stopped her.

  “El. This is great. I’m really surprised.”

  “I don’t know why you would be. I live here.”

  “Ellen.” Dean grabbed on to both her arms and gently turned her to face him. “Is it my imagination? Tell me if it is, but . . . is something going on? You came back to the lab. You came home. You kissed me twice today.”

  “You kept count?”

  “You don’t kiss me often.”

  “That’s not all my fault.” She stared seriously at him. “You stopped most of the affection in this relationship awhile ago.” Ellen held her hand to Dean’s mouth to stop him from saying anything. “And rightfully so. But I guess, even when we started to try, it became easier for both of us to still . . . keep a distance.”

  “It’s been a long time.”

  “It’s been a really long time.”

  “You know, you can tell me no.” Nervously Dean reached for the end of her hair and played with it. “But it has been a really, really . . .” He paused to laugh. “Really long time. The kids are asleep.”

  “They are, are they?”

  “Yep.” Dean stepped closer to her as he bit his bottom lip. He let go of her hair and let his fingers move to her neck and trailed down it slowly. “I can handle the rejection.”

  “Good.” Ellen smiled and moved her body more into Dean’s. “So, do you think you’d like to try to make a move or are you wanting to force me into rejecting you.”

  “Hardly.” Dean chuckled and lowered his lips down to Ellen’s. Barely did he part them and barely did their lips touch when a loud knocking at the door jolted them into separation. Dean cringed. “Shit.” He walked to the door. “This better not be Henry.”

  “Why would it be Henry?” Ellen asked.

  “He has this problem with our latest joint venture invention.” Dean reached for the door. “And he’s so anal he won’t leave me alone.” Opening the door, Dean was surprised when a serious looking Joe stood there. “Joe?”

  “Dean.” Joe took a breath. “You’re needed now at the clinic. We had a breach of security. It’s . . . It’s Jonas.”

  Without hesitation, Dean flew from his home.

  The momentum of Dean’s run stayed steady across the community, into the clinic, down the halls and to the operating room. He slammed his small body into the double doors to open them and he charged into the room where Frank had brought Jonas.

  In his rush into the room, Dean slid on the blood slicked floor as if he stepped on ice. To stop, he caught his balance and used the table in which Jonas lay. His hands gripped down on the edge of the operating table and his eyes transfixed about a barely recognizable Jonas. “Oh, my God.” Dean whispered as his eyes visually examined the torn open chest of Jonas.

  “Dean.” Frank stepped from the corner of the room.

  Dean’s eyes lifted in horror. He got a good look of the room. Blood was everywhere. The floor, the table, sheets, and all over Frank.

  “You have to help him.” Frank’s voice graveled.

  “I can’t.” Dean swallowed. “I . . . can’t help him. I’m sorry, Frank.”

  “No. Dean.” Frank spoke stronger as he stepped closer. “You have to.”

  “I can’t.” Dean spun from the table. “Did you look? Did you really look at him?”

  “Yes.”

  “No.” Dean snapped back. “You didn’t.” Heavy breaths began to fill Dean’s words. “They . . . they took his heart, Frank.” Dean heard it. A rumbling from Frank’s throat. An angry sadness that Frank tried to control. “Frank.”

  Frank closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. “He . . . he was my friend.” After a quick swipe of his bloody hand down his own face, Frank, so military like, took a steady stride out of the operating room. He charged down the corridor in a move to leave the clinic. Just as he made it to the main front hall, he stopped when his father walked in.

  “Frank.” Joe approached him. “How is . . .”

  “He’s dead,” Frank said coldly. “And I know they breached the perimeter, but Dad, we have to stop letting survivors in. The longer they’re out there, the worse they get. We take a chance with everyone we let in now.”

  “No, Frank.” Joe gave a firm grip to Frank’s arm. “The ones that did this, we know who they are. And we have to believe they all aren’t like that.”

  Frank shook his head and pulled away from his father. “No, Dad you’re wrong. They’re all bad.” He moved backwards with his hurt to the door. “If they aren’t in here. They’re nothing.”

  The double glass doors to the clinic flung open, and before Joe could say anything else, Frank was gone.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  May 2nd

  Beginnings, Montana

  Nasal, whining, annoying. ‘Hello, Mr. Slagel’.

  Frank had to wonder if her voice really sounded like that or was it just him. It made him cringe. Made his eyes roll and his body shudder as if he accidently stuck his finger in a socket. Frank froze in his walk with his father when that voice carried across the street to Joe. He could feel that uncontrollable twitch hit his top lip. Hoping that somehow his imagination kicked in and he was only experiencing a grief induced mental gouging episode, he slowly opened one of his closed eyes. Frank saw. Frank groaned.

  “And you, too . . .” Joe paused to look at Frank. “Michelle.”

  “Thanks.” The perky red head grinned and waved to an ignoring Frank. She backed up with a bubbly walk, tool box in hand and walked across the street.

  Joe snapped his finger in front of Frank who had thrown himself into self suspended animation to spare himself from the brief conversation. “Frank.”

  “Gone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” Frank huffed out.

  “You need to grow up.”

  “You need to wise up.”

  Joe stopped walking, glared at his son and continued again toward the clinic. “I’m gonna let that go because you’re pissed about today’s survival run and you’re still having a hard time with Jonas’ death.”

  Frank slowly shook his head. “It’s been three days, what’s wrong with me?”

  “Well, you just answered that. It’s been three days. That’s not a long time. I know Dean’s been pretty good about you spending time with Ellen lately. Maybe you need more. Can you get it off of her?”

  “Dad.” Frank had almost an embarrassed tone to him. “That’s kind of personal, don’t you think?”

  Joe’s mouth opened in disgust. “That is not what I meant. Time, you moron.” He opened the clinic door for his son. “I meant time.”

  “Oh.” Frank nodded. “That’s why I wanted to stop here. See if we can squeeze in lunch between her working here and containment.”

  “I know her working with Dean again doesn’t sit well with you.”

  Frank shook his head. “Doesn’t bother me too much. They haven’t been a real couple for a while so I know it’s only work. That makes it . . .” Frank stopped talking and walking the moment he reached the clinic’s lab. The door was open.

  Joe saw the ‘lost’ expression on his son’s face as Frank peered into the lab and saw Dean and Ellen. Giggling emanated from the lab as they stood together working on something at the counter. Dean closely behind Ellen, his one hand on her arm, his chin on he
r shoulder. He playfully darted his lips at Ellen in between his words, “Frank,” Joe spoke softly. “I’m sorry. But this is what you have to accept when you decide to share the person you care most about.”

  Frank’s lost expression left him with an inhale. He turned and gave a quick raise of his eyebrows to his father. “Doesn’t bother me.” He stepped back. “Find me if you need me, I’m doing rounds.”

  Joe’s hand lifted and fell in his failed attempt to speak to Frank any further. Frank moved quickly from the clinic. Joe stepped inside the lab.

  ***

  “Tower come in.” Johnny kept the microphone portion of his headset radio close to his mouth to block out the helicopter noise. He raised his thin hands up to the controls and he maneuvered the stick tilting the chopper right. “This is Prodigy. We’re heading home. ETA thirty minutes and we’re carrying. I repeat, we are carrying. Prep receiving. Over.” He shifted his eyes to George who sat next to him and lowered the microphone from his lips. “How’d I do?”

  George gave proud wink and thumbs up. “You’re a pro.”

  Biting his lip and flashing an arrogant Slagel smile, Johnny picked up speed in the chopper, and flying almost too well for the experience he had, headed home.

  ***

  “Containment blood.” Ellen held up the tube as she entered the clinic lab. She laid the tube in front of Dean. “I have to head back over there. That one survivor is really sick.”

  “Should he be transferred here?” Dean asked, speaking pre-occupied as he read from a large book.

  “Remains to be seen. So, do you mind if I head back over there early to work.”

  “Nope. You owe me an hour though.”

  “Such a slave driver.” She laid her hand on Dean’s back as a goodbye and started to leave.

  “El, wait.” Dean stopped reading and spun to face her.

  “What’s up?” Ellen stopped.

  “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

  “Sure. As long as it’s not about doing CBC’s. I hate doing blood counts. Well, that and urine samples. And while we’re on the subject, I don’t like doing throat cultures, they suck, too. And blood pressures. The patient always seems to talk when you’re trying to hear. So what did you . . . oh!” Ellen continued to ramble on. “Also, irrigations. Irrigations are the worst if the person has this really gross ear infection. All this black stuff comes . . .”

  “Ellen. No.” Dean silenced her. “Listen, we’re slowing down in the clinic. Well, the seven patients will be gone soon. Joe said he was halting the survivor runs for a while. I was thinking. I want to get your opinion on this. I want to think about the future, and the future of the community. Andrea and I are not always going to be around. I want to start training someone to take our place. Not just doctoring, but train them in research and the basis of medicine. I have a perfect person in mind.”

  “Oh, Dean,” Ellen spoke in awe. “Oh, Dean, I’m honored.”

  “Huh?” Dean shook his head confused. “Excuse me?”

  “I’m honored. Do you really think I’d be a good doctor?”

  “No. El. No. Not you. Not that . . . uh, you aren’t smart enough. But you . . . not you.” Dean cleared his throat at the instant awkwardness.

  “Well if it’s not me why are you talking to me?”

  “It’s Johnny. I want to start training Johnny Slagel as the next doctor. He’s smart. He’s bright, he wants to and . . .”

  “You’re worried about Frank’s reaction. Especially since he sees Johnny as the next big Slagel security guy.”

  “Exactly.” Dean answered with a nod.

  “Good luck.” Ellen gave him a quick swat to the arm and turned to leave.

  “El, wait.” Dean hurried to her, grabbed hold of her arm and gently pulled her from the door and away from it. He literally stood before the door so she couldn’t make a quick escape. “Johnny and I were talking before he left for this run. We want you to break it to Frank.”

  “No. Absolutely not. No, Dean. You guys don’t give Frank enough credit. I’m insulted for him. Johnny’s his kid. He wants the best for his kid. And speaking of Frank.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  “You’ve no choice.” Ellen pointed behind Dean to Frank who walked in.

  “Swell.” Dean shook his head. “I’ve been invaded.” He moved back to his work space.

  “El.” Frank walked up to her. “Where is your walkie-talkie?”

  “Right here.” She patted the instrument clipped to her belt. “Why?”

  “Is it working?” Frank asked.

  “Sure. Why?”

  Frank snapped once holding out his hand to her. “Give it here.”

  Ellen unclipped it from her belt and handed it to him. “What’s the problem?”

  “We’ve been calling you.” Frank examined the walkie-talkie. “El, the volume is off.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Ellen smiled. “I did that. I was getting really bored with that conversation you and your dad were having. You guys kept going back and forth about the birds that were fried to the fence and getting them off.”

  “That’s an important problem.” Frank pressed the button in. “I got her Dad, we’re on our way.” He handed her the radio. “El, always leave this on. Always. Let’s go, we’ve been calling you for a half an hour. Johnny and George found survivors and they’ll be here any minute.”

  Ellen took off her lab coat. “Sorry. I’m coming.” She moved to the door. “Dean, I’ll let you know what’s happening.”

  Dean yelled out as Ellen flew from the room with Frank. “I need two tubes of blood!”

  Ellen waved back in acknowledgment and walked faster to keep up with Frank who stayed ahead of her. “Frank, wait up.”

  “El, will you hurry?” He opened the main glass doors. “You know my Dad likes you to be there and ready when the survivors arrive.”

  “This is for real?” Ellen walked through the doors. “I thought this was all made up so you could see me.”

  “It’s for real. Get in the jeep.” Frank got in the jeep and once Ellen was inside he took off. “It was really frustrating calling you over and over again.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t think they’d be back this soon…” Ellen held on to the door handle of the jeep as Frank drove irrationally. “Are you . . . are you mad at me about something else.”

  Frank gave a sideways glance at her then continued to drive.

  “I guess so.”

  “There they are now.” Frank pointed to the sky as the helicopter made its way closer. “Just in time.” He screeched to a halt in front of Joe’s office.

  Ellen looked at Frank who stared forward. “O.K. Thanks.” Shaking her head she jumped from the jeep.

  “El wait.” Frank called to her, his hand tapping on the steering wheel.

  “What?” She turned before entering Joe’s office.

  “We . . . we need to talk, can I see you in a little bit when you’re done?”

  “Sure.” Ellen answered softly, waved to him and opened the door to the office. Though excited about the survivors, Ellen had things to get ready. Things that sat in a box in the examining room. A little scared Joe was going to yell, she ran in, heading straight to the back. “Sorry, Joe. I didn’t know my radio was off.”

  Joe, frustrated, grabbed his keys from his top desk drawer. “Ellen, handle things alone for a minute. I’ll be right back. Henry has a problem.”

  “Are you sure I’ll be all right?” she asked, especially since Joe never left her alone with new people.

  “Yes. Johnny and George said the two they found are pretty quiet. Calm. Haven’t said a word. You’ll be fine. I’ll be right back. One minute. I promise.” Not wanting to waste any more time, despite how ‘safe’ George and Johnny said the two new ones were, Joe flew from his office.

  Feeling somewhat assured, Ellen went into her examining room and immediately to the box on the counter by the sink. She began to pull things out when she heard footsteps from in Joe�
�s office.

  “Pap?” Johnny called out.

  “Shit.” Ellen wasn’t ready. “Uh, Johnny,” she yelled back to him. “He stepped out.”

  “What should I do with these two?” His voice was closer to her door.

  “Um . . .” Ellen looked amongst her supplies. “Um, send one in here, have the other wait in the waiting room.”

  “Got it,” Johnny said.

  Ellen heard the door to the examining room open then close. There was a shuffling of footsteps that stopped, and that told her someone was in the room. But the extraordinary odorless entrance of the person made her stop and turn around. A man stood quietly by the door staring at her. Wondering if perhaps George and Johnny were wrong, Ellen remained calm and motioned her hand over to the examining table. “Please, if you could have a seat over there. I’ll be right with you.” Ellen walked to the sink and began to wash her hands. “If you could take your shirt off.” She wrung out her hands, dried them on a towel, threw her stethoscope over her neck, then tongue depressor and small flashlight in her pocket. She turned to the shirtless man who sat on top of her table. His head was down a bit and his hair dangled like a mask. Almost frightened, he held on to the edges of the table.

  The closer Ellen looked and moved to him, the more she saw there was something odd about his body. His hair covered chest was defined, unlike most male survivors, whose bodies were thin, and chests sunken in. “My name is Ellen,” she told him.

  “I know.” He answered.

  Nodding with a pleasant smile, Ellen readied herself to speak slow. She always did at first so as to be understood and not to scare new people. “I’m going to examine you to see if you’re healthy.”