Consigning Fate (10 page)

“If I could get some sort of direction. Some help, I would feel better. I don’t want to stop until I solve this Hal. Something is not right. Something is not right about this whole thing.”

“Dad’s death?” Hal asked.

“Yes. I mean we have Dean’s clone at the scene. An explosion. An unknown print on the device and an unknown substance in Darrell, our only witnesses, blood. The whole kill dad thing doesn’t make sense. Why would someone in Beginnings want him dead? I went through all those who knew him. No match. I need something.”

“You need to go back to the start.”

“I know. But what would be the start?” At that moment, Robbie’s phone rang. He lifted it. “Yeah. No shit.” His eyes widened. “Let no one. No one talk to him until I get there. Thanks.” He hung up.

“You’re smiling.”

“I think I may have a start. Or at least a place to start getting answers,” Robbie said and stood.

“What? What’s going on?”

“Darrell is completely, and utterly awaken and coherent.” Robbie grinned. “I’m gonna talk to him.” He slid the bowl of noodles to Hal. “Thanks.” He gave a swat to his back. “Enjoy.”

“Robbie …” Before Hal could say anything further, Robbie was out the door. He murmured to himself, “Keep me posted.” He shrugged and enjoyed the remaining noodles.

<><><><>

Jam worked. It was better than nothing and Beginnings women did make the best raspberry jam. On fresh soft bread, the sandwich hit the spot.

Roy indulged. His mood wasn’t the best, and he didn’t feel like doing the crossword puzzles his friend brought him.

Jenny needed help in designing hers. And when that Forrest guy made puzzles, they were too obscure. Franks were hard because he didn’t spell things correctly.

Aside from those, the buzz in town over George Hadley’s arrival made Roy nervous. But one thing was certain, in the future he knew, the future he left, and there was no George visiting Beginnings before the war.

Progress was being made.

He only hoped and wished that he could go to the future and see the results. But he couldn’t he was stuck.

George’s visit to Beginnings was all new to him; in fact, everything was changing from the history he knew. But with George in Beginnings, he had to be careful. More people would be out and about.

His friend told him jokingly, then he could go line dancing. Roy didn’t know what that was, but it sounded fun. He enjoyed dancing. He just never had anyone to dance with. He was certain he would do the Twist better than anyone, and once he had a partner for the Jitterbug, he’d be the envy of everyone.

Once in his seclusion a female agent entered his room. He made her dance with him. She told him how wonderful and light on his feet he was.

Dancing. Yes.

But his friend so no. It was too risky. After all, Dean didn’t dance.

Would anyone notice? No one seemed to pay too much attention to Dean. Unless he was in trouble.

Roy could find out if Dean was home. Usually when he was home he stayed there. But since he moved to a new place, and since Richie move in with him. Dean was rarely home.

Then again, Ellen would surely make mention of Dean being at line dances. Especially if she went.

Keeping track of Dean was easy. Where he was and so forth.

When Roy started making his multiple trips back in time, he had to steal the SUT tracker, copy it, and then return it. His way of keeping track of Dean’s whereabouts so they didn’t cross paths.

He even made adjustments to his own version of the tracker, having sound effects and alarms that signified when Dean was close or when Dean left Beginnings.

It was the thought of how much trouble Dean got himself into inadvertently that made Roy think of protecting Dean.

With the knowledge that he was going to be around or there when Joe died, Roy realized there was a chance someone could see him, and seeing him meant someone saw Dean. Dean at the site of a murder wasn’t good.

Especially since Dean had a history of bad coincidental luck.

Roy had to come up with a way to make Beginnings want to track Dean.

At first he thought about making it look as if Dean were going to go to the Society. Then he came up with the idea of committing an inane crime.

So he knocked out Forest and stole his toenails. With Dean working on getting Christopher Columbus to look normal, the strange body part would make sense. Roy thought for sure, Ellen or someone would have found the toenails in the lab.

But they didn’t.

So Roy kept doing inane acts. Becoming the serial mutilator. He actually left so many clues; he got frustrated, that he had to outright set up Dean. He did that by knocking out Henry and Dean and using Henry’s nails to scratch Dean.

There.

That did it.

Roy stopped. He had no reason to perform the mutilations. Admittedly, he did have some fun with it. But from that moment on they tracked him. Just like Roy did.

Thinking about Dean, line dancing, Roy picked up the tracker. Dean was still at the clinic. Still in the lab. He was getting longer and longer in one place.

Just as he was about to set down the tracker, he though once again about the mutilations. With them having stopped, did it bode well for Dean? Evidence was mounted against him. Even though the crimes were silly, they were still crimes.

He wondered if the serial mutilation case was buried, if they even thought about it. With all that happened, Joe’s death, the impending war, the serial mutilations were probably a thing of the past. No longer to be pursued. Dean was in the clear.

<><><><>

Did Frank do it on purpose? It wasn’t there a few hours earlier. Then again, the trailer slash temporary office was new.

In fact, Henry couldn’t recall ever seeing a sign like it on Frank's office before. Of course Henry never wore a hat, so if it was there, it was never a bother.

But the sign glared at him. The new sign.

It read: Out of respect, please remove all headgear before entering.

Henry debated between knocking and inviting Frank outside or removing his baseball cap.

Why? Why was it there?

In the pre plague world days it was customary to remove headgear, especially with the military.

Thinking about it, Henry never recalled seeing anyone indoors, that was in Security or UWA wearing a hat.

Hal removed his bandana. So did Elliott.

Henry reasoned at that moment he was being neurotic. Frank didn’t hang the sign on purpose, he was reminding everyone.

After a deep exhale, he knocked.

“Yeah,” Frank responded.

Henry removed his hat, ran his fingers through his growing hair, and stepped inside. “Hey, Frank.”

Frank was seated at the table, looking over reports. “Did you bring reports from our towns?”

“Yeah, got them right here.” Henry stepped forward.

“Good. This will give me …” Frank looked up.

“What?” Henry asked.

It started. At first Frank’s mouth dropped open, then the corner of his mouth rose.

“What, Frank? What?”

“Oh my God.”

Henry growled.

“Your hair.”

“I knew it. I knew it.” Henry complained.

“What did you know?”

“You hung that sign on the door on purpose so I would have to walk around with my hair like this.”

“No, Henry, I hung it so people would remember to remove their fucking hats. You did. Good job.”

“I think there should be an exception to the rule. I’m training my hair, Frank. It’s wiry.”

“I see that.”

“Bentley said another month.”

“Good. At least when I look at you I don’t see... victim.”

“Ha, ha, ha.” Henry put the reports on the table.

“Verbal?” Frank took them and sifted through.

“Everyone is fine with the news about Hadley. Doyle is strained. But that’s to be expected. But, the news isn’t a big shock. So we’re good.”

“How are you with this?”

“I don’t know.” Henry stood there.

Frank looked up. “Is there something else you wanted?”

“Can we talk?”

“For a minute. I’m trying to get things done before Hadley gets here and Ryder is on his way.”

“I understand this will only take a moment.”

“Go on.”

Henry pulled out a chair and sat down. “I don’t know if you know this but at the Wellness Center, Lars has Thursday night victim night.”

Frank raised his eyes. “Victim night?”

“The few of us attacked by the serial mutilator.”

“It’s over.”

“Yeah, for some reason. They stopped. But …. That doesn’t mean the rest of us aren’t scarred.”

“True.”

“Where do we stand on it?” Henry asked.

“Looks like the attacks stopped happening.”

“Do you think it’s because the mutilator knew he was going to get caught?”

“Possibly,” Frank said.

“Again, I ask, where do we stand on it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Stand.”

“Like what?”

“Like where do you stand on it?”

“Am I against it or for it, what?”

“No.” Henry barked. “Do you have a suspect?”

“Several.”

“Good. Is the investigation ongoing?”

Frank leaned back. “Henry, the mutilations ….”

“Were crimes, Frank? I lost my hair.”

“Yes, I see and it’s growing back nicely.”

“Still crimes. I want whoever did this to me caught and for them to pay for it.”

“It’s low priority, Henry, right now.”

“Only because it wasn’t you who was tattooed or shaved bald.”

Frank snickered. “Henry, like I’d fucking care being bald or tattooed.”

Henry growled and stood up. “Frank, I’m serious. I was a victim. So was Forrest, Josephine, Hap. We want justice. Will you promise me you’ll make sure this doesn’t get swept under the rug?”

Frank nodded. “I’ll get someone on this.”

“Thank you Frank.”

Henry nodded, pulled his cap from his back pocket and walked out.

Frank rubbed his chin. The mutilator attacks to him were low priority, but to others they were not. He also knew if he opened back up there was a chance that Dean would take the fall. Frank couldn’t have that. He knew damn well Dean wasn’t responsible, more than likely, the clone was. What he needed was to throw off whoever he put on the investigation. He needed another mutilator attack with Dean nowhere around.

With that thought, Frank smiled and picked up the phone.

<><><><>

It was a sight he never thought he’d see again, at least not peacefully. But there as it was the vision of Beginnings as they pulled through the tunnel.

“I literally, just lost my breath,” George said.

Elliott glanced over George’s way, “I can imagine.”

“This was my home.”

“Yes, sir.”

“It feels good to be back.”

“Yes, sir, I imagine it does.”

“Are you always so goddamn polite?”

Elliott choked out a chuckle. “I try to be. As you will see, all of the UWA soldiers are respectful.”

“Then Hal Slagel must be one of a kind.”

“There’s nobody quite like the Captain.”

“I’d be interested in learning more about the UWA, son.”

“I will make mention of that to the Captain, I am sure he will oblige, as we are opening our gates to you on every front … sir.”

“Do you know who I’m anxious to meet?”

“Who would that be, sir, other than you wife?”

“She’s someone I want to see. Meet. I want to meet …”

“Danny Hoi.” Elliott blurted out.

George looked at him.

“I apologize for cutting you off.”

“No, no. That just amazed me that you guessed that.”

Elliot shrugged as he drove. “If I were new, and I had received the technology of the chip that Danny sent you via email that he reinstituted, I’d want to meet him as well. Of course, we live in a Danny world in New Bowman.”

“What do you mean?” George asked.

“Danny was in charge of putting together our town when we moved Bowman from North Dakota to here. Mr. Slagel put him in charge because Danny is such a go getter. It was Danny’s baby. He had carte blanc. He was in charge of his own resources, which he acquired, and the man power. He designed the new town, rebuilding on what was there, and created what he thought would be the perfect town. Mr. Slagel wanted to keep the originality and integrity of Beginnings, so he balked at a lot of things Danny wanted to do, but allowed him to do so in New Bowman.”

“Really? What kind of things has he done?”