The Horse Soldier: Beginnings Series Book 10 (33 page)

Binghamton, Alabama

The part of the phone you speak into
, the part of the phone you are supposed to place your mouth near, was the same part of the phone that Frank pressed his middle finger to while he smirked and spoke to George. “Yeah.” Frank lifted the phone, curled his lip in disgust, and returned to him again. “Yeah . . . Yeah.”

“And then after they have settled in I need you to go to the mess hall and . . .”

“George.”

“Yes.”

“Can I speak?”

George went silent for a second. “Um, sure Frank. What’s up
?”

“I have been trying to tell you. We had a slight problem this morning.”

“Problem?”

“Slight.”

“What happened?”

“Well I was out canvassing the outer area for training and I spotted two of those UWA soldiers camping out about three miles from here.”

“What!” George’s voice raised up. “You got to be shitting me? Son of a bitch. What did you do?”

“Brought them in
and scared the hell out of them.”

George let out a breath. “Good. Did you get anything from them
?”

“Like?”

“Like information, Frank.”

“Um yeah
,” Frank said. “They got separated from their group about a month ago and were trying to make it back. I have them at interrogation.”

“Well get rid of them before the ambassadors and scientists arrive. We don’t need any junk left around now. We’re pretty much settled.”

“Get rid of them?”

“Shoot them.”

“O.K. Thanks,” Frank said. “Talk to you next check in.”

Smiling and bobbing his head as if he sung a tune to himself, Frank hung up the phone and happily left his office.

 

Ten minutes hadn’t passed since his phone call with George, and Frank was leading the two remaining officers off the base. The officers were dressed in UWA uniforms--left over from the soldiers he freed--and they were blindfolded with a wide cloth around their faces. Frank led them out and
, per George’s instructions, shot them both.

^^^^

Beginnings, Montana

Even though she promised Danny she wouldn’t, Trish wore that black visor as she sat in History reviewing the articles with Jess that would be placed in the new paper of Beginnings.

“Big first paper,” Trish commented to Jess. “Here you missed a error here. Please be more careful. People will read this you know.”

“Whoops.” Jess snickered. “Sorry. I’m trying
. You’re the one typing these up.”

“Hey!” Trish tsked. “I’m very busy. I typed these up in between the competition forms, going to paper and requesting larger sheets of paper for this paper, amongst editing out bad writing in this paper and paper said . . .”

“Trish.” Jess held up his hand. “With all the ‘paper’ references, you’re starting to confuse me.”

“Well get unconfused
, Jess. We have work to do. Danny wants to copy these when he gets back tomorrow. Plus . . . he’ll have the Bowman update to be typed and added in. I don’t know where he’s gonna put it all.” Trish looked at the newspaper layout that was all over her desk.

“Danny is so into this, I’m surprised he hasn’t picked up a printing press somewhere.”

“He wanted to but ink was the problem. Henry makes the ink cartridges for the printers around here and that ink works for the copy machine.”

Jess wrote corrections as he talked. “
Danny is so much like a business tycoon, starting a paper and delegating the work to others.”

“Are you complaining?”

Shocked, Jess snapped his head up. “Um . . . no. No. Not at all.”

“Good. Because you are gonna have to do two things
., work faster, harder, and neater especially since you’ll be handling more of the editing every day. I can’t do it all. I can’t work history and be Mr. Hoi’s secretary and serve on the Neville Committee, which I do.”

“Wait a second.” Jess set his pencil down. “I’m working on the paper today.”

“Yes.”

“Not after.”

“Oh yes.”

“Oh no. Where did you get that from?”

“You volunteered,” Trish told him.

“I did?”

“Danny said you told him you were the smartest man in Beginnings and would love to help him out. You’re almost editor in chief.”

Jess had to laugh. “How do I get myself roped into these things?” He grabbed his pencil again. “Of course, what else do I have to do with my spare time.”

“I don’t know. What?” Trish asked.

“Nothing. I was uh . . . being sarcastic.”

“Why?”

“Forget it.” Jess shook his head with a smile.

“O.K.” Trish shrugged. “Don’t you ever hang out at the social hall?”

“Once and a while I do
, but it’s sort of like, how can I describe it, going to a dance alone.” Jess noticed the confused look on Trish’s face. “In the old world, I was never one to go out by myself, to bars or movies or anything. It doesn’t hold the same effect. You just don’t have as much fun as when you pair off with someone and go out. And in this world now, pairing off with someone is difficult.”

“True. There are no women.”

“Yes, all men know this.” Jess nodded. “But in the old world . . . it didn’t even have to be the opposite sex that you went out and had fun with. Do you . . . do you know what I mean?”

“Oh yes.” Trish said. “A special friend.”

“Exactly.” Jess smiled.

“I was married to a man named Clyde in the old world. He died of the plague. Anyhow, Clyde he had a special friendship with this guy. They would go out, go on trips together,
and sometimes them two would get so caught up in what they were doing, hell, I didn’t see them till the next day.” Trish snickered at the memory. “Clyde was cute.”


His friendship with this guy never bothered you?”

“Oh no, why would it
? I supposed some wives would be upset with sharing their husbands, but I wasn’t one. It gave me more time to do what I enjoyed, reading, movies, bowling, Tupperware parties. I was smart enough back then to know it’s a guy bonding thing. Some men really need that. You’re one of them huh?”

Jess nodded. “Trish, you seem like a worldly woman around here.”

“I am.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure. Wait. Do you need womanly advice or ‘scoop’ advice?”

“Womanly.”

“Well in that case . . .” Trish leaned to her side and bent down behind her desk. She emerged back up without the visor. “Ask away, I love to give advice.”

“I like you
, Trish.”

“I like you too. And . . .” Trish winked. “You’re real cute. Ask away.”

“O.K., well as you know, I’m fairly new here in Beginnings. I hang out but don’t know anyone. I’d like to get to know someone. You know, you can have a ton of friends, but I’m one of those men who needs that one on one buddy friendship more.”

“Ahh
,” Trish moaned in sadness. “You’re lonely aren’t you? No one really talks to you, do they?”

“No
, I’m a talker too. I’ll talk about anything. Anyone you can think of here that can use a friend, a close friend?”

“I thought you were close friends with Robbie.”

“I . . . I am, sort of, but I don’t bother him with it. I’m looking for that type of relationship that I heard Frank and Henry had.”

“I see.”

“Yeah and Robbie is like . . . he’s everybody’s buddy, but no one’s best friend. He’s not the type of guy that needs someone dumping their problems on him just to unload. And he certainly isn’t the type of guy that needs anyone close to him.”

“Oh that is so wrong
,” Trish said. “Everyone needs someone close to them. Male, female. You do. My husband Jeff needs me and so does Hap, and . . . uh I’m a special friend to a man named Forrest.” Trish dropped her voice to a whisper. “But there’s no sex there. And well, Tinker in the field division is a special friend to me. And Robbie needs Ellen, just like Dean needs Ellen, and Frank
needed
Ellen. He doesn’t anymore. He’s dead.” Trish noticed she had amused Jess. “I guess what I’m trying to say is everybody needs someone. Don’t let Robbie fool you. He has that rough Slagel exterior but he has a heart. I know for a fact he would love to have someone he could let down his walls with. Robbie’s lonely, Ellen sees this but . . . what is she gonna do about it. She can’t devote one hundred percent of her time to him.” Suddenly, and frightening Jess, Trish perked up. “Oh! Would you like me to speak to Robbie for you?”

“Really? I feel stupid asking him to be my friend. I mean we live together.”

“He probably assumed you would be friends and is feeling the same way.”

“You think.”

“Oh yes.” Trish waved her hand. “Robbie doesn’t get close to people and he certainly doesn’t latch on to new people. He asked you to move into his house with him. That tells me something. I’ll talk to him. You guys should start hanging out together. Maybe he can stop annoying everyone in this community when he has nothing to do.”

“Thanks.” Jess grinned.

“No problem.” Trish ducked beneath her desk again and came back up with the visor on. “Now . . . we’ve wasted enough time. Back to the press.”

Jess gladly did. He paused before continuing his reading and correcting and looked at Trish.
It dawned on him that it was the first time in a very long time he had a personal conversation about himself with anyone. It felt good to have someone listen, to be a friend, even if it was briefly. In the lonely world that it had become for Jess and many men, a little closeness, a little friendship could go a long way for a better day.

CHAPTER
NINETEEN
Beginnings, Montana

Robbie had radio control. Robbie had the attention of everyone in Beginnings and those in Bowman who listened to him. He stood in the training area
, wearing his headset radio. He stood before a large group of security men, some field workers, and they all were seated and spread around him. The microphone of his radio was lowered so as not to blast out the diaphragm when he spoke to them.

“Listen up
,” Robbie spoke. “At noon, it commences, the start of the first annual Neville Competition. The grand prize for this ongoing event has yet to be determine, but since Danny Hoi is determining the prize, I’m positive it will be worth it. But hey, just the competition is worth it. And . . . Ben from fabrics is making the trophy which is the cool seventies style ruffle shirt that Charlton Heston wore in the movie.” Robbie waited for the silence of the cheers and he gave a thumbs up to Ben from fabrics. “Now, since Neville has become our post apocalyptic God, we all wanna be like him. For the rules . . .” Robbie pulled out the notepad. “The competition is open to anyone who registers. And it’s not just
us,
gentlemen. Our new brothers in Bowman are competing too. You must be registered to be a part of it. The earlier you register, the better, because from that second on what you do starts counting towards points. You will be scored on the following. Games. We will hold events, like the Olympics, to add to scores. These will be announced later. The following are areas that you can accumulate points on a daily basis . . .” Robbie began to read. “Making it from one are of the community to another in a record speed time. These times are determined by the Neville committee. For example, it’s been decided if you make it from the fields to the utility building in six minutes on foot, you get fifty points. And so forth. A chart will be provided for you. Another scoring factor . . . escaping from dangerous situations. Elimination of viable enemies near the home front and . . . acts of heroism. But . . . in order to get points for any of the daily scoring, you
must
fill out one of these.” Robbie pulled four sheets from the back of the clipboard. “These are Neville competition applications. Fill them out and turn them into one of the Neville committee. They will meet, determine the level of score, and hand it out accordingly. For example, if you nearly get shot in the head.” Robbie held up a paper. “This is the ‘escaping dangerous situations’ application. Fill it out. As you’ll see, they’ll review, get witness verification, and, at the bottom, they pick a level. A near miss of a bullet in a deadly range is a level three, second highest level. In order to hit a level four, you have to be injured in some way.” Robbie handed out the applications for the men to view. “Pass them around and take a look. History has all applications in stock there. That’s where you pick them up.” Robbie saw Dan’s hand raised. He pointed at him. “Yes, Dan?”

“Who makes up the Neville committee?”

“Good question. For the radio listeners, it was asked who makes up the Neville committee. I’m gonna tell you but you are eliminated from competition if you try to sway the committee. They are as follows. In Beginnings, we have Trish, Jason, and Forrest. In Bowman, it is Elliott Ryder, Dr. Blue, and a woman with a weird name, Gergerace. Anyhow . . .” Robbie shrugged. “They’ll meet bi -weekly, either in person or on the radio. Any more questions?” He saw Dan raise his hand again. “Dan?”

“Will we all get a copy of the rules
?”

“No, we won’t all get a copy of the rules. T
here are too many people here. The rules will be located at History, the social hall, the chapel, and with any committee member. Anyone else?” Robbie waited and looked around. He grinned widely and clapped his hands. “Good luck gentlemen and over the next few weeks let’s have fun with this. May the best man be Neville.” A loud eruption of eventful cheers echoed in the security area. Robbie gave a thumbs up to everyone then looked over his shoulder to his father who had watched.

With rolling eyes, Joe just shook his head.

^^^^

“Shit.” Dean set down his radio and ran his fingers through his growing hair. “Not there.” He paused tapping his fingers on the counter in the lab. “Hell with it.” Hooking his radio on his belt and grabbing his personal cell phone, Dean left his lab and walked down toward Andrea’s office. He knocked the door’s frame. “Hey.”

Andrea looked up from her files. “What’s up?”

“I’m out of here for a while.”

“Where are you off to?”

“Well, I was hoping to find Jason to do it or Johnny, but . . .” Dean tossed his hands up. “To no avail. Anyhow, Forrest needs my help grinding the prescription for Johnny’s glasses. If you see him, tell him I am personally finding him and making him put them on.”

Andrea smiled “I’ll tell him.”

“O.K., well I’ll see you later. I have to talk to Joe so I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“That’s fine.” Andrea smiled again. “Bye
, Dean.”

Andrea lowered her head back down to her work after Dean had waved and left. She listened to his feet hit against the floor and fade away and then Andrea dropped her pencil slowly and looked back up.

Her hand smoothed against the surface of her desk as she stared in thought. After a moment, she stood up, closed the chart she viewed, tucked it under her arm, and left her office.

She could see in her walk down the hall that the lab door was open. Looking around first, up and down the clinic corridor, Andrea turned into Dean’s lab. “Jason.”

Jason, surprised, looked up from the computer he was reaching for. “Andrea.”

“What . . . what are you doing in here?”

^^^^

Like the tiniest of bowling balls rolling across the hard floor was the sound that made Johnny lift his head from his work in the cryo -lab. A rolling sound, soft and faint, but in the room with him, and then it clicked. Johnny looked around. Nothing. He returned to the feeding charts he reviewed as he sat at the counter and then the sound began again. Rolling, rolling, click. “What the fuck?” Johnny got his answer when he heard a giggle. Rolling his eyes, he looked to the door.

Bev stood in the open door. “Busy?”

“Yes.” Johnny wrote something down. “Why aren’t you? Don’t you hold a job during the day or something?”

“I’m on my break
and I was hoping to change the bad luck I’ve been having by finding you.”

“Bev.” Johnny dropped his pencil. “Why is it that you keep tracking me down
?”

“I like you.”

“Yeah well, you like Dean. Remember?” Johnny raised his eyes. “You have been making it no secret around here that’s who you have your views set on.”

“Dean is smart. So are you.”

“So the flavor of the month is intelligence?” Johnny asked.

“I don’t understand.” Bev took a step into the lab. “You started this whole thing between me and you.”

“By complimenting your legs?”

“Yes.” Bev moved slower in. “Wow, Dean works here.”

“If you’re so infatuated with Dean.” Johnny watched the look on her face. “Why do you keep chasing me?”

“I like you.”

“You shouldn’t be in this lab and you like Dean. Sorry babe, I did the share thing. I was the secondary. I don’t do the secondary. Rather go womanless than play second fiddle again.” Johnny kept his eyes on his work, staying cold and ignoring Bev as she stepped closer.

“Who said you would be second fiddle. I’m a free woman, I’m not with Kevin anymore.
It’s not too often a woman in this community chases a man. Why do you insist on making me chase you?”

“Why do you insist on chasing me?” Johnny stood up and started to gather his work.

“I told you. I like you. You’re different. And . . .”

“And you want Dean.”

Bev inched her way to Johnny. “I want Dean for a different reason. I want you, for you.” She stood right next to him and softened her voice. “We can help each other out you know. We’re supposed to.”

Johnny smirked with arrogance. “Help each other out? What in the hell are you talking about?”

“You can help me get what I need and in return,
Johnny
, I can help
you
get what you need.”

“And what is that?”

“This.” On Bev’s one word answer she dropped down to the floor before him.

“Shit.” Johnny’s eyes widened when he felt her hands run down across his waist and to his zipper. His tall stance fell to a lean into the counter. He swallowed the lump in his throat and his eyes widened at the sudden sensation that began to sweep up his body. Wondering if he should take a stand with Bev or advantage of the situation, Johnny let his eyes roll slightly as he gripped the counter’s edge.

It never was warm in the lab, yet Johnny felt warm. He took off his lab coat, flinging it across the lab, and then his hands reclaimed their cling to the counter. So surreal the situation felt. So dreamlike until . . . reality set in with the closeness of voices that came into his earshot, a male and female, closer and closer. “Shit.” Johnny opened his eyes. The cryo-lab door was open. He looked down again, then back up and Andrea and Jason were entering the lab. “Stop.” Johnny called out.

Andrea and Jason stopped cold.

Andrea tilted her head in wonder. “Johnny?” She took a step to him. “Are you all right? You look flush.”

“Stop. You can’t . . . you can’t . . . come . . . any further.”

“Why?” Andrea asked.

“Dean will . . . Dean will get pissed.” Johnny closed his eyes tightly then opened them. “He’s got a . . . he has . . . he . . .”

Andrea and Jason both looked oddly at him.

“You have to leave
,” Johnny said. “I’m under strict orders not to let anyone . . . in.”

Andrea looked at Jason then to Johnny. “Well
, we’re looking for the Beesly file. Dean was supposed to have finished running . . .”

“In!” Johnny’s voice was high pitched. “In the fridge.”

“The fridge?” Jason questioned. “Why is the Beesly file in the fridge?”

“Think cold thoughts. I mean, in the bin next to the fridge. I put it there by . . . by mistake.”

Andrea turned to Jason. “Did you look there?”

“No. I searched the other two bins. That’s why I thought I’d go into the computer
. For sure he logged the results.” Jason tossed his hands up. “Let’s go.”

“Thanks
, Johnny.” Andrea waved. “Get some rest. You’re acting strange.”

“I will.” Johnny gave a strained smiled. “Can you shut the door?’

Andrea smiled. “Sure, sweetie.” She stepped through the door first and Jason followed her.

Johnny watched as Andrea and Jason seemed to leave in slow motion. He wanted to wonder why they came down the cryo-lab at all, but at that moment all he could do was wait for the door to close and when it did, with a grunt, Johnny plopped forward to the counter.

^^^^

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