by P. S. Power
Brian shrugged, pain ripping through him, but not caring any more, he turned to face the giant woman that looked so intimidating, but had always been nice enough when they'd talked before.
“They had me locked up in a cell, my arms and legs tied to a bed, the door locked. I escaped. I don't know what they had planned for me, but people don't tie you up for good things. Not in my life anyway. I have to get out of here. I think... I don't know, but I think they're planning to have the police come and get me or something, to kill me. Why else tie me up? I haven't hurt anyone that hasn't attacked me directly, or tried to kill people at least. But it's me that gets beaten and locked up. Again.” He shifted, his legs aching. He couldn't even tell why they hurt now, they just did. Everything hurt, except the left side of his face and a spot on the right side of his upper back about the size of his palm.
“So, anyway, I need to get out of here. I know you can't help me, but it would be good if you didn't tell anyone for as long as you can, all right? Also, I need to know, are there any woods – or better a forest – I can go live in around here? I doubt I'll survive long, but that isn't really the question anymore, is it? If I can last a few more weeks, maybe heal up a little, I can help more people before I go...”
The small girl fidgeted and shook her head violently, an exaggerated movement that looked almost like she was a child playing instead of a near-adult trying to deny something she didn't like.
“No, no, no.” Her high pitched voice came fast and breathy. “You can't leave. You're hurt and there's a press thing up in the lobby right now. We aren't supposed to go there until they all leave.” She kept shaking her head while she talked, then after about ten seconds more of it, she sped up the movement, her head blurring in the air for a bit. When she stopped she reeled, hands out playfully, and said, “Whoa, head rush!” Laughing as she stumbled into Lauren.
He shrugged. It seemed like the best possible time to sneak off to him. If the press were there, that would mean cameras, if they tackled him or something, it might be reported, which wouldn't help him, but might mean bad coverage for these people, the IPB, and he doubted they'd want that. Would it be enough to keep them off of him? Probably not, long term they'd come for him, working with the police like they did, protecting them over their own people... It could be enough in the short run, if he got lucky. Maybe.
The door opened into a large crowd, people milled and groups talked to various individuals around the room. Prime, tall, blond, perfectly tan skin and purple colored eyes, stood in one cluster. The reporters, mainly women, struggling to get closer to him, subconsciously trying to win him over. Brian laughed, a low, strained chuckle.
It seemed pretty obvious to him, but the women all did it anyway. Funny, but the women here, the ones that knew Prime best, all thought he was a tool. Even his perfect looks and charming smile weren't enough to stop that apparently. He handled the cameras and lights well, perfectly, which made him the single most popular Infected in the world. That was enough apparently. Be a good looking, self-serving jerk and people loved you. Be a fat, ugly guy, with a beaten up face that tried to help people and get taken prisoner for your trouble by the very people that were supposed to be on your side.
That seemed... pretty much like the way of the world, didn't it? Brian nodded to himself as he walked slowly.
To the left of him, a man in a green outfit that Brian didn't recognize right off, stood in a much smaller group, and looked to be explaining something much more serious and complex than what Prime handled. On the far right a large group, mixed in gender, stood around Lady Glory as she glowed away in all blue. Brian wasn't a huge fan right now, since she'd attacked him the day before, or earlier that day... he didn't know.
True, an attack from her felt more like someone running up and trying to calm you down with a hug rather than a real attack, so he could probably forgive her for it, but he couldn't help but notice that she'd gone after him, the victim, rather than the aggressors at the time. Brian thought about it, would he have backed off the police if she'd subdued them with her power? He'd been angry, but he just didn't want to be hurt again. Brian shrugged and turned toward the door, which was blocked by a fourth group, with the Director – whose name he didn't know at all – standing to one side.
The reporters turned around suddenly and some of them started walking toward him, looking back he saw that Bridget and Lauren had followed him off the elevator.
A reporter, a man with a familiar face, gray hair and a thin, youthful look and build, walked over to her, a microphone held out.
“Bug! You helped save Senator Hooper's daughter last night. How do you feel about that? He's one of the most outspoken anti-Infected legislators and no friend to this program...”
Lauren froze in place after a few seconds her voice came out, a girlish squeak.
“Um...” she said cleverly.
The man didn't wait long, he saw Brian a few feet away and swung the microphone toward him.
“You, I'm sorry, we don't have your name yet. You were there, you tackled the Infected that was about to kill Nadia Fields, how did you do it? Were you scared? Some have credited you with having saved the senator's daughter directly, any comment on that?”
Brian kept walking, without saying anything.
The gray haired guy kept following him, asking him questions, which Bridget, not able to help herself, started answering.
Impulsive indeed.
She bounced as she walked.
“He's Brian. His ability just let's him take the place of people about to be killed, other than that he doesn't have any powers or anything. He saved a lot of people last night. He's only been here for about a week. Senator Hooper's a bigot and a moron. I'm not sure why. He sounds smart enough, until he starts talking about anything. Then he just screws it up, doesn't he?” She walked along with them all, Lauren slowly following behind them as cameras and reporters left the groups they were in to follow them.
That made good sense though, didn't it?
Bridget kept talking.
“Her name's not Bug. That's not even her code name, which is Level. Her name's Lauren, and it bothers her when people call her Bug. It would tick me off too. Would you like it if everyone called you “Old Fart” just because your hair looks a little funny?”
Some of the reporters laughed. To his credit the otherwise serious looking man that had asked the questions originally did too. He even smiled and it looked pretty real.
“Sorry... Lauren, do you agree with your friend's take on the Senator?”
She didn't say anything for a bit, finally a sound came out of her face plate something like a shuddering inhalation then she spoke clearly, “Um, no comment? I don't know him. He could be cool in person...”
Brian worked his way through the group of reporters in front of the door slowly, clutching the rolled blanket and towel to his chest, the knives inside making slight, muffled clanking sounds as he moved. No one particularly seemed to notice him, now that Lauren and Bridget were there to pester. Handy in a way.
No one except the Director, who stared at him, looking worried. The older man excused himself from where he stood and tried to come toward Brian. Knowing the man probably wanted to catch him and lock him back up, the younger man limped faster, trying to get away.
At the door a bunch of black clad agents stood, two facing him, six facing out, as if standing guard. Fuck, Brian swore to himself for a moment, a long and heartfelt string of greatly unlikely curse words. They didn't seem to be letting anyone in or out. He couldn't take them. He probably couldn't have taken even one of them on the best day of his life with a baseball bat and them wearing a blindfold. They may be regular uninfected humans, but they were all really tough and well trained. Sometimes they had to fight Infected themselves. Lancaster had mentioned that to him a few days before, the man just checking in with him to make sure everything was going all right.
Force wouldn't work at all, but would the press be able to help him, if he wor
ked this right? He thought for a second, still limping toward the door, his mind scrambling, fuzzy and fatigued. Brian hadn't had enough sleep for a while and the pain didn't help. Nothing came to him as the Director closed in to capture him. Panicking he looked around, hoping someone would give him a clue or something, even if no one here really wanted to help.
Lady Glory moved toward him too now. Prime looked up, baffled as people had started to move away from him, his face didn't look displeased, but rather shocked, as if wondering why anyone would ever want to do anything but look at him. The man in green hadn't moved, but stood looking toward the front, where all the reporters were watching suddenly. They all looked at Bridget and Lauren...
The tiny girl, lacking inhibitions so totally, just kept answering all questions asked of her... honestly. Sometimes with colorful wording, sometimes very professional sounding. A large crowd, realizing that something special might be happening, gathered around her and the black and brown, massive form of Lauren.
People still closed in on him, working through the mass of bodies carefully, trying not to call attention to themselves. Brian had an idea, not knowing if it would do anything at all, but hoping it might give him a small chance.
He called out loudly, trying to make his voice sound official, rather than a cracked and broken ruin, which seemed its current style of choice.
“Excuse me, everyone! This is getting too clustered for the cameras, so we're all going to head out front for a second so that all the needed shots can be established. We have a very special message ready for you, but we have to move quickly, so everyone out in an orderly fashion please! Prime, Level and Rat-girl to the front please. If we work together this won't take but a moment...”
He had to say it twice, but the reporters responded before the Director's voice could be heard protesting. The agents at the door, not there to keep reporters in, but mainly as window dressing, Brian guessed, or possibly to watch for him, gave way to the mass of people. Brian just floated along with them out the door and headed for the front gate, which stood open. The trudge was slow and painful, but he pushed himself as hard as he could, limping, clutching the towel wrapped blanket to his chest, his right arm and left side making it too agonizing to carry it under one of his arms.
“Mr. Yi! Brian! Wait, please!” A man's voice called out behind him, sounding a little out of breath. “Please!”
He almost made it to the gate when the Director jogged up, Lady Glory beside him, two reporters – apparently thinking that this might be a more interesting story than what the others were getting – came over too, but stood back, cameramen recording them all.
Good.
The Director put a single hand out, as if telling Brian to wait. The guards at the gate didn't close it, but stood in the gap, hands on the side arms in their holsters anxiously, as if they wanted to shoot Brian then and there. He tucked his left hand into the center of the blanket and limped toward them, clutching the handle of one of the big knives, ready to use it if they drew their weapons or tried to take him prisoner again.
“Please, Mr. Yi... we should talk about this. In private perhaps?” The Director sounded sincere, but Brian figured that would be part of why he had the job in the first place.
“So... is “in private” the new code for locked up in four point restraints in a secure facility after you let thugs in to attack me? Cause, honestly, if it is, I don't want to talk to you at all, much less “in private. You get that right? I'm a little sensitive about being beaten and locked up. It's a thing with me, which you should know.” Brian kept walking. He had to close with the gate guards to do anything to them, but they could open fire on him at any time. Not fair, but then, what was? If they even looked like they were going to pull a weapon he had to be on them. A gun was too powerful to play around with, Brian recalled Beatdown telling him that a few days before. Several times. Just because she'd tried to kill him, that didn't mean the woman didn't know about fighting. It sounded like good advice at least. Brian let his grip on the knife tighten a little. It wouldn't do him any good if he dropped it.
“Mr. Yi... May I call you Brian? I think that we've all had a hard time the last few days and maybe a step back right now would be a good idea? I apologize profusely for the situation earlier and I can see now that having you put on floor eight might have seemed a punishment, but please believe me, it was only to keep you from seeking to harm those men, nothing else...”
A blue glow moved between the guards and Brian, facing him. Lady Glory stood, hands out as if to stop him. Her bright form illuminating the dark night around them more than he'd have thought she would. He shook his head at her.
“I don't think so. You already blew it once, backing those police that came in and attacked me earlier. We're supposed to be on the same side, but you chose them over me, even after they attacked me openly. Now you're standing there as if I'm the threat, trying to keep me prisoner here, while those guys are getting ready to try and shoot me... You're supposed to be all about compassion and love, but only for thugs and bullies? That's seriously messed up. Sick even. Get out of the way.” His voice sounded rough and tired, which reflected how he felt. He really doubted he could get much passed the gate without going down, a few miles at best. But at least he wouldn't be beaten or locked up when it happened. If he could get through the gate.
She put her hand out, “Brian...” Her glow intensified, like it had before, when she attacked him last time. Her voice had an odd buzzing tone to it, some artifact of her power he thought, but didn't know. His head dropped. Brian didn't want to hurt her, but he had to get out.
“Glory, you need to stop that and get out of the way. If you try to stop me, I'll fight. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to hurt anyone, but you all seem to think it's OK to hurt me. Back away now, please.” Pleading, tears in his eyes, he stepped forward.
Walking through the glow, he heard her sobbing softly again. She cried a lot for someone backing the jackboots, Brian thought as he passed her. She hadn't moved, but didn't try to hit him with one of those blue waves of light, or touch him either. One guard, a large bland-looking man, stood in front of him as he tried to leave. Brian moved to step around him, and the man moved with him. He didn't try to grab Brian, or even speak, just stand in his way.
Brian took a huge wracking breath. At least this one seemed smart enough to realize that he'd fight if attacked. Just standing there, moving with him was... clever. His buddy looked ready to draw down on him, so Brian firmed his hold on the knife and worked himself between the two men, using his body to block the man who wasn't about to attack from harm, if his buddy tried to shoot.
The Director walked over hands out.
“Please... Brian... I know we messed up, the police messed up, and I personally failed you. I didn't know that Denis would try to kill you like that. He'd convinced us that his original attack had been a prank, just trying to scare you... I think it may really have been, but then he felt pushed too far. We can't lock him up for long... kicking him out, firing him, shouldn't have made him react like that...” He moved to the far side of Brian, walking around the guards to do it.
“As for the police, I... they messed up, over and over again, but we don't control them. We aren't them. We couldn't let you kill those men and you're right, they won't be punished for what they did, the law protects them even when they break it horribly. We just didn't know what else to do.”
Brian held his breath. He knew that what the man said was reasonable and made sense, but anger made him shake again.
“You let them in to attack me, to try and take me and you know what? If they had, they probably would have killed me. They didn't come to pat me on the back and hear my side of things, they came to grab me and make me disappear into a cell somewhere to be tortured until I died. You let them come and then protected them.” His voice came out hoarse and quiet, even though he wanted to scream the words. He just couldn't generate the volume.
He walked toward the Director an
d then turned left, hobbling past him, the guards behind him. As he walked he kept talking, trying to get as much distance as possible.
“Right, we can't punish the police, because they were just doing their job, trying to kill me for being Infected and saving people. They won't stop till I'm dead you know. That guy last night, he attacked me, even after he saw me – with his own eyes – tackle that monster, trying to protect that little girl. He saw it, he knew I was hurt, and he attacked anyway. Then those guys earlier, they had all the same info and came after me here, in the middle of a bunch of Infected, and you!” He pointed back at Lady Glory. “I'd call you a fucking traitor, but I doubt you were ever on my side at all. You didn't even hesitate to try and mind-fuck me did you? They were cops, so even if they're kicking Brian's ass, they must be right? I'm leaving. Fuck off and die.”
Then he headed off into the night, going off-road immediately, so that it would be a little harder for them to follow him in cars. The ground looked scrubby, grass grew long and untrimmed, most of it dried, so old stuff from the year before. He couldn't really see where he went at all, after the lights from the compound faded. He just kept walking until he couldn't any more. He knew he hadn't gotten far, but after a few hours he had to sleep. Even in pain he couldn't stay awake, so he made a small pile of things and curled up in the blanket lying on his right side, that hurting less than any other position he could find except standing.
Brian woke up over and over again, ready to fight, clutching at the biggest of the knives more than once when a sound startled him. He didn't move until the first light of dawn got bright enough to see by. He ate a single candy bar, of the six he had, rationing them, not knowing if he'd ever get to eat anything else again. He wanted to make them last. Brian got up, wrapped everything in the blanket again, even feeling stiff and cold like he was, and started walking. Somewhere along the line the towel had just vanished. Had the guards at the gate grabbed it? Or... he didn't know, maybe Lady Glory or the Director had taken it somehow? It didn't matter. After an hour he got thirsty, but didn't have any water, so just kept walking. Thirst wouldn't kill him, not for a couple days. If he didn't find water, well, that would be a sign that he needed to be done now. That would be OK , dying of thirst, free and not in a cage.
