The Inner Struggle: Beginnings Series Book 7 (39 page)

BOOK: The Inner Struggle: Beginnings Series Book 7
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“No, she’s not.”

“You know what I mean. Hands off.”

“She’s not your wife, Henry. What’s her name?”

“Frank . . .”

“What’s her name?” Frank asked again.

“Ellen.”

“Ellen what?”

A soft grunt came through the radio. “Slagel.”

“Ha!” Frank snickered. “And what’s my name?”

“Stop it.” Henry got annoyed.

“You started this, Henry. What’s my name? Frank what? Slagel. Slagel. Seems like a match. Need I say more?” He grinned, especially when he saw Henry’s facial frustration. “Oh stop it, I’m messing with you. In fact, I’m being good, aren’t I El?” He pointed to Ellen who nodded. “See, Henry, I’m not touching. I’m not allowed anyhow. I have to be able to get out of quarantine. No exchange of body fluids here.”

Henry closed his mouth and slowly nodded his head, “Would you if you could?”

“Oh sure, but that’s beside the point. Good. I’m being very good. And we have more important things to talk about like who is with the baby?”

“Hap is watching him at the nursery. He likes Nick since, well, you know, Trish is expecting but don’t piss around after you leave here, Frank. All those kids are just too much for me to . . .” Henry stopped talking.

Frank raised his eyebrows and placed his hands on his hips. “What? What? Too much for you to what?”

Henry motioned his head behind Frank to Dean who had emerged from the other lab.

Dean probably could have looked more like the scientist he was instead of the confused mess he appeared b the way he stepped to them, stopped, opened his mouth, held up his hand, flung back his head, and finished off the routine by running his fingers through his hair.

Frank’s head swayed back in forth. “What is it with him and building the suspense? Dean! What?!”

“O.K.” Dean placed one hand on his hip holding back the lab jacket. “May I?” He held his hand out to Ellen for the radio. “Thanks.” He depressed the button. “What is in those vials is definitely not a virus. It is an antiserum, not an antidote. My guess is they have no antidote because they’ve been inoculated. Anyhow, I got a slow reaction when I tested the substance on a viral sample. A good reaction, a hopeful reaction, but slow. Whatever it is, it definitely was made to be given prior to infection.”

Joe listened to his explanation but his heart still searched for an answer to the question on whether or not it would help his son. That’s what was forefront on Joe’s mind most. “What does this mean for Robbie? And give it to me straight, Dean.”

“Straight.” Dean’s eyes moved around to those who watched him. “Robbie had entered fully into the virus stage of deterioration. With the right antiserum it can be reversed. This will reverse it but I don’t know how quickly, and that’s where the problem lies. The symptoms of this virus are as deadly as the disease itself. We have to hope that with care, Robbie does not succumb to the symptoms before the agent I’m going to give him takes effect.”

“So basically,” Joe said, “It’s like cutting off the cancerous limb and hoping it didn’t spread?”

“Basically, yes.”

“Then I suggest you do what you have to do, Dean.”

Dean clenched the already prepared syringe he held in his hand. “Wish me luck.”

Luck wasn’t the only thing they wanted to happen when all of them watched Dean leave with the syringe. Results were what they needed and wanted most. An air of silence took over the room as a hush, replacing the silliness of the arguments and joking around that had happened moments earlier. Though they stood with a glass window separating them, Frank, Ellen, and Johnny in the mobile, Joe and Henry outside, they all stood in thought for the same thing. With all of their hearts they wanted what Dean had to work on Robbie.

 

<><><><>

 

It was time for Frank to leave. Ellen stood in the doorway of Robbie’s room watching him for a few more minutes as he stared helplessly at his brother lying in that bed. She could tell and she could feel the pull how much Frank wanted to reach out and nurse him, wipe him down like Ellen had done so many times while he held his bedside vigil with Robbie. But he couldn’t. All he could do was keep his distance, hands folded over his goatee and watch.

“Frank.” Ellen spoke so soft that her voice cracked a little. “It’s time to go. You have to leave now.”

“I know.” He nodded. “He is so sick, El. It’s been ten hours since Dean gave him that drug. The only thing that has happened is he has gotten worse.”

“We have to wait, Frank.” Ellen walked up behind him laying her hand on his shoulder. “Dean said it moves slowly.”

“But this virus doesn’t. Why is he so sick already? None of the other men were this sick in this stage, were they?”

Ellen shook her head. “No. As near as we can tell, Robbie may have come down with it a day earlier than he admitted. He’s strong, Frank. He wouldn’t give in to it. He wouldn’t let it get him down.”

“But it did.”

“I’m sorry.”

“He’s my baby brother, El.” Frank slowly stood up. “It’s hard to watch this.”

“I know.”

“Tell me this isn’t going to be the last time I see my brother alive.”

“I can tell you I will do everything I can to make sure the next time you see him, he’s better. I’ll try, Frank. I’ll try as hard as I can.”

“I know you will.” Frank took one more look back at Robbie. “I’d better go. Johnny’s waiting isn’t he?”

“Yes he is.” She held out her hand. “I’ll walk with you.”

“You’ll stay with him, right?” Frank asked as they left the trailer and moved to the mobile lab.

“I won’t leave his side.”

“Give him a kiss for me, El.”

“I will.” She closed her eyes as they reached the door.

“Take care of my brother.”

“You don’t even have to say that to me. You know I will.” She reached her hand up and laid it on his face. “Stop by and see me tomorrow and I’ll let you know everything.”

“I will.” Frank leaned down to her but stopped before he instinctively kissed her. He stepped back, placed his lips to his fingers and laid his fingers to her lips. “I’ll see you.” He reached for the door. “Be good in here.”

“I will.” Ellen sadly folded her arms. “Frank?” She stopped him as he opened the door. “Thank you for everything you did for me today. Even though Joe down plays it, I don’t.”

“You’re welcome,” Frank smiled. “Just so you know, my father only down plays it because it pisses you off.”

“I knew that but I didn’t think you did.”

“Please, I’m the smart one here.” He paused in his leaving when he heard her snicker. He shook his head at her. “Good night.”

Holding the edge of the door, Ellen stepped to him. “Goodnight, Frank.” After he stepped out, she closed the lab door, refolded her arms, and walked toward the trailer to join Dean. A few steps into her walk, she heard the lab door reopen. Ellen turned around to see Frank who had only stuck his head in.

“El . . . I love you.”

Before she could say anything, the lab door had closed and she heard the starting of the Jeep’s engine. The only thing she could do was go to the window. She watched, fingers pressed to the glass leaving smudge marks, as Frank and Johnny drove back into town. She waited until the tail lights were no longer seen and she headed to the trailer to do what she had told Frank she’d do. Take care of Robbie.

 

<><><><>

 

Frank knew the moment he walked into his home, just before ten p.m. and a little over the actual fourteen hours he had to put into quarantine, that Henry had a hell night. Henry’s head was flopped over the arm of the couch. His arm hung to the floor and his long hair draped like a disguise over him so much his face wasn’t seen. What had he done, sat down to take a break and just passed out? That was how it looked to Frank. Worried that his closest friend would end up with either a headache or one hell of a stiff neck, Frank decided to help him out. He slammed the door to the house loudly it caused Henry to spring up to a sitting position and his hair to flop forward onto his face. “Sorry, Henry. Did I wake you?”

“I wasn’t sleeping.”

“Right.” Frank stepped into the living room. “Nice hair.”

Henry grunted and ran his finger through it to straighten it. “How was Robbie?”

“Worse.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“How were the kids?”

“Difficult.” Henry plopped backwards. “Good thing Joe stayed until they fell asleep. Actually it was good thing Josh and Denny were here to wear them out only I think their antics wore me out. I’m beat.”

“Eh.” Frank waved his hand at him. “It just takes practice and then you’ll be a pro. You don’t always get this worn out. Is Josh home now?”

“No, he’s staying at Andrea’s.”

“Oh.” Frank raised his head in an acknowledging nod. “Well, I’ll let you get to sleep. I’m gonna head to bed myself. Goodnight Henry.” He walked to the steps and stopped. “Henry? You aren’t really mad that I spent all that time with Ellen in quarantine, are you?”

“No.” Henry shook his head. “Sorry I was like that. I was just upset that she was mad at me. You know how I get.”

“Yeah I do.”

“Is she still mad at me Frank?”

“Nah,” Frank said dramatically stepping toward the stairs. “She’s over it. Goodnight.”

“Frank.”

Frank’s hand slid on the railing stopping on the second step. “Yeah?”

“Are you all right? Do you need to talk?”

“No. I’m fine. I just need to sleep that’s all.” He let out a long breath. “It’s been a hell of a day. A long day.” Gripping the stair railing tighter, Frank motioned his head in his final goodnight wave and walked up the steps. He felt a certain antsyness about him, an uneasy feel about the whole day. He felt so down after spending the entire evening sitting in a room with a brother who stopped talking and failed to wake from his deep sleep.. Needing to have that touch of good, Frank stopped in both bedrooms on the journey to his own room. One at a time, he kissed each child, touched them, and took a moment over each and every one to say a little prayer of gratefulness, thanking God for bringing them into his life. The healthy look that each one of them possessed took a tiny bit of the hurt away from Frank, but not enough.

Walking into his bedroom he closed the door, undid his shoulder harness, and draped it over the headboard of the bed. Sitting on the side of the bed, he took his keys and unlocked the night stand next to him. He grabbed his revolver, reached down, and swung out the night stand door. Placing the revolver inside, he saw it in there and he needed it. After the bad day he had, he really needed it. He pulled out the small bottle of moonshine he kept in there and replaced it with his revolver. Kicking the night stand door closed with his foot, Frank swung his body around to rest against the headboard and brought his legs to his bed. Bringing his knees up and resting his wrists upon them, Frank stared at the bottle that he held with both hands. He told himself before he uncapped the moonshine that he needed a good reason to do so. After staring for a while in thought, he justified his doing so in one word . . . Robbie.

To forget the day, to forget the pain, Frank brought the bottle to his mouth as he lay on his bed and he broke the promise he made to Ellen, to Henry, and more importantly, to himself. Frank began to drink.

 

<><><><>

 

“Dean!” Such emotions filled Ellen’s cry over the low humming motor sound of the suction machine. “Please! I can’t hold him much longer!” Her legs were extended as far as they could possibly stretch. One leg was off the double bed, the tip of her toes touching the base of the suction machine to hold it steady in its vibration and other was behind Robbie’s back, holding him up as she secured him with one arm, while suctioning the thick fluid from his lungs. The fluid had backed up to the point that Robbie went into pulmonary arrest, turning blue and gasping for air he could not get.

His back burned against her bare leg. The high fever brought on convulsions that Ellen was surprised she handled. Perhaps she found the strength within her to do so. To fight with him as he fought with what had him.

Robbie’s arm flung up, trying to swat away the tube that extended into his mouth, through his airway, and deep into his lungs. “No, Robbie. Don’t fight me. Please don’t fight me.” Ellen braced him more, turning away her head from his moving hand. “Dean!” She felt Robbie’s head bang back onto her shoulder over and over. “Robbie, hold on. Just hold on. Come on.”

The running thumps of his feet brought Dean charging into the bedroom. “It’s ready.”

“It’s now or never, Dean.”

“We can do this, El. We can do this. Brace him with everything you got.” Dean grabbed hold of the suctioning tube as he watched Ellen wrap not only her arms around him, but her legs as well. Dean brought his body to the bed, leaning the majority of his weight on Robbie’s legs as he controlled the suctioning. “Almost there.” He held Robbie’s chin. “Almost done, Robbie.” He listened for the sounds of the moisture that ran through the tube to slow in consistency. “Hold tight, just hold tight.”

“Dean, why is he like this? Why is he so bad?”

“I don’t know.” Dean shook his head as he worked, watching Robbie’s eyes roll totally to the back of his head.

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