by P. S. Power
He couldn't outfight him either, it seemed, because he just shrugged off the blows and stood again, ready to attack. Another quick blow knocked Brian three feet back, into the wall behind him, which bowed under the force of the move. Brian gasped, almost throwing up from the force of it. He couldn't breathe, but he could still kick, he hoped. Another foot toward the groin, which Prime blocked with his knee, sending pain shooting up his shin where they connected. It felt like kicking a lamp post, Brian thought.
A lamp post that wanted to kill him.
Hands and eyes glowing, he moved to point at Brian again, moving slower when he did it than when he punched. Brian jumped in, feeling the world close around him, going dark. Having nothing left, he bit the large man on the nose, which made him jump back, grabbing his face.
“Ouch!” The word came out slightly sullen, as if shocked anyone would do something like that.
Brian didn't stop, kicking at his exposed groin again, hitting him solidly this time. When he went to his knees, Brian turned and ran. Just as he rounded a corner, a black bolt destroyed the wall behind him. He kept going, people coming out of rooms to see what had happened. A naked Prime shot around the corner, moving faster than Brian could, but not by that much, thanks to having to negotiate the turns of the hallway. Seeing a nice lamp on a table, Brian grabbed it and launched it at the man who casually batted it away, closing on him.
Brian held his hands up to try and fight again, feeling a bit desperate, the golden man moving toward him, looking ready to kill still. Before anything else could happen, something knocked the large man down. Hard. Making a meaty thunk sound when it happened. A small man with pale skin, black hair, and a business suit, walked out into the room they'd gone into, the floor one common area, from a door that had stood open. As Prime tried to get up the small man waved his hand, causing another meaty thunk.
“Glory... a little help here please?” The man spoke calmly, that deep cold kind of calm that Brian always imagined James Bond would have if he were real. Without an English accent, of course. This guy didn't have an accent at all.
The world went blue as the glowing woman walked around the corner, opening up on him. Love for her flashed through him, and a sense of compassion for everyone and everything flowed, touching deep places he didn't know existed. It made him feel good that she bothered to include Prime, unlike last time, when she'd used her powers to protect the men that had attacked him, leaving him even more vulnerable. After twenty seconds Brian realized something important. He hadn't left yet. Meaning that whomever it was Prime had tried to kill was still in danger.
He walked forward through the light, going toward the naked man, who had risen to his knees. Pulling his right hand back he hit the man on the chin, and didn't stop until he went down. Even then he stayed, he turned into the blue light. The larger man wasn't unconscious or anything, he'd literally just taken that much force to knock over.
“I haven't shifted out! I don't know who he tried to kill, but they're still in danger. We have to stop him. I need to run...” She held the blue light on him as he turned and fled. As he got in the elevator Prime crawled to his knees, all of the blue light coming at Brian instead.
Brilliant.
When the door closed, Brian hit nine by instinct, then realized that Prime might know he lived there, being on Team Three. He needed help and to get the person – a woman he thought – to safety. He canceled the decent on floor six and went up one to five. He ran out of the elevator yelling.
“Lauren! Team Two! Help!” He ran through their hallway, surrounded by three individuals suddenly. Lauren loomed in front of him. To his relief Bridget stood beside her. Thank god! He rushed forward and hugged the girl, ignoring the pain.
He spoke in short hand. “Prime's flipped, trying to kill someone, I took their place, but he's coming. I don't think Team One got that I wasn't attacking him... I need to draw him off and stop him, but we need to get the person safe first. I only know one person that can do that for sure.” He stared at Lauren. No one else blinked. Tobin ran up as he spoke and so did Charles.
Charles didn't hesitate. “Proxy, what do you need?”
“Safety. Then I can go back to mine and see what I can do from there.”
They all went into Goblin's room, being someone that Prime wouldn't expect to have hidden anyone. They all agreed that Scott Chambers didn't even know Tobin Peterson existed at all. Then, finally, a tingle came over Brian and he found himself sprawled on his own bed. Limping, he got up and ran back to the elevator. The person might be safer now, but that didn't mean this would be over. Now Prime would come for him in his rage, having stolen his prize... or whatever. Maybe not, but Brian couldn't just leave Team One to fight the man alone. He tried to remember what Karen had told him about Marcia beating Prime in a fight. No specifics. Something else he'd heard niggled at him... She wasn't in his power class, but she cheated.
Penny had said that.
Well, that made sense. Cheat. He could do that he decided. He ran through his options, guns and bombs, rockets and clubs... Poisons came to mind. Would anything work on the large man? He didn't know, but he knew who would. He ran to the elevator and went to floor seven, yelling again.
“Hey! Prime's gone bug-nuts! Is there anything, any drug, that we can use to calm him down? Anyone?” He didn't have to explain more, everyone seemed to just understand.
Doctor Kern scurried to a locked cabinet and quickly made up a syringe. He didn't even have to look anything up, he just knew, Brian realized, making him wonder how often things like this happened around the base. The man ran over and started to pass the needle to him, then froze.
“Crap, Brian! What the hell happened?” Brian shook his head, and looked down, blood from his nose poured down his front. Dribbled really, he saw, ignoring it for now.
“Prime. He's trying to kill someone, don't know who. I took their place, then Lady Glory attacked me again. At least her power isn't too harsh, or I'd be dead by now. Some day she's going to have to get that I'm not the bad guy, you know? Anyway, I think we have the person safe now, but I'm betting Prime's not done yet. He's going to come for me, I think, for getting in his way. Maybe someone else, but...” Brian held out his hand. “I have to stop him.”
Doc Kern grimaced and handed it over. “Hit him in the neck if you can, just under the ear, either side. He's armored arms, legs, and chest and heals wicked fast. This should take about twenty seconds to drop him and last an hour, maybe less, so whatever you have to do, that's your time frame. Try not to die, I've put too much time in on you already.”
Brian didn't laugh at that, he just nodded instead. “Do my best.”
It wouldn't do to over promise after all.
He headed to level one, not knowing what had been happening. When he got there chaos reigned. Two bodies lay on the floor, and Lady Glory stood, her back against a wall as Prime held up a table as a shield, a nice one made of real wood, not like the fairly cheap particle board ones Team Three had all over the place, and walked toward her. The bright blue glow made it hard to see her face, impossible really, but her body language spoke of fear.
Brian took a fighting stance, painfully raising his left arm, which had taken enough new damage it felt numb in the places it didn't scream in pain, in his right hand, he held the syringe, point back, hiding it in his hand. He used his teeth to remove the plastic cap and spit it out to the side so that he wouldn't choke on it when Prime hit him. Then he took a deep breath, wondering if it would be his last one, it shuddered as he exhaled, his back stabbing him sharply from the pressure.
“Prime! It looks like Beatdown was right about you after all... You really are a giant pussy, aren't you? You have to pick on little girls who don't even have real powers to avoid the real fight behind you... I'm glad there are no cameras here, if people saw this, they'd know how useless you really are. Only good for getting cats out of trees and helping to change dirty diapers.” Brian had been ready to keep this up, trying to wear away at t
he man's ego for a while, knowing his narcissism would have to kick in eventually.
That didn't happen.
Prime turned, dropped the table, flowed into the air about four foot off the ground and flew at him like only a giant naked man could. A frightening sight that Brian kind of wished he'd never seen. Prime, wild eyed, actually flew, not jumped, or ran, speeding up as he traveled in the air. Brian held his pose, lips going back in a grin that he hoped looked cool, because he couldn't think of anything witty to yell, and stabbed forward with his nearly useless left arm. Prime knocked it out of the way with his right hand, not seeing that Brian had brought his own right across his chest. Or, just as likely, not caring.
He hit Brian hard, still accelerating toward the wall, when the needle found the soft spot on the neck and plunged the drugs home.
Suddenly, just before impact, the giant man slowed, pulling Brian to his chest.
He lost consciousness as the wall buckled behind him, Prime crushing the air out of his lungs first and then, it felt like the life, out of him. He came to gasping, still in the wall. Alive for some reason. A thick padding, meant to stop fire from spreading, had cushioned him in part, leaving him intact and only a little broken. Something occurred to him about the speed of impact and what had just happened, what had to have taken place, but he knew he'd have to analyze it later. No time just then. It was work, but he got his mind to refocus on what needed to be done. His ribs felt crushed, but he could breath, if shallowly. He pushed the woozy, nude man until he fell out of the hole and then, slowly, climbed out after him.
“Damn he hits hard,” Brian muttered, gasping.
Lady Glory sat against the wall, sobbing. Brian limped over, voice not working the first time he tried it, on the third he got some sound. On the fourth try actual words came.
“Call... help... check...these...” He pointed at the other unconscious people on the floor. Still crying, the woman got up and went into an office. A man, one he didn't recognize, who wore the same sweats and t-shirt he did, except it had the legend “Team One” on it, stirred and tried to get up. The other man, the small pale one in the suit, didn't yet. Brian choked a few words to the first man.
“OK, now. Rest. Help coming.” He sounded better, air slowly coming back into his lungs, his body shaking and weak, after everything.
The other man still breathed and had a heartbeat, so Brian sat and waited. Glory came out and stared, looking at the man on the floor. After a bit he realized she thought he was dead and shook his head, telling her that he breathed.
“I don't know how to do much past CPR and basic band aids. All we can do is wait for real help now.” As he finished saying that, part of Team Two, six strong, ran into the room led by Charles himself. Brian didn't recognize the rest by name, a few he'd seen in the gym. He waved at the people, including Prime.
“Everyone's alive. Prime should sleep for about fifty more minutes give or take. This man... I don't know him, he's alive but out. We need medical here now.” Then he went silent. It was still really hard to breath and he gasped a bit.
Bridget came in last, Charles glaring at her. She ran to Prime and started calling to him, her eyes going wide with fear. She looked around, ready to kill, it seemed to Brian, lips pulling back, teeth bared. He raised his hand and signaled her, which actually got her attention somehow.
“Just sleeping. Drugs. Be up soon.” He hoped that made sense, because he couldn't say a lot more. He doubled over in place and started to convulse a little, then got sick. There was some blood in it, but nothing major. People looked concerned but didn't say anything.
Charles walked over and kicked Prime, hard. “Get up, mother fucker!” He growled, then kicked him again, apparently for not getting up. This went on for several seconds, everyone around him just standing there, watching, except Bridget, who moved to tackle the team leader, only to be grabbed by someone else, a muscular man with what looked like inky vine patterns all over his face.
Brian got to his feet. Walking slowly, he approached the man and put a hand on his shoulder.
“Enough. He's out and we need to secure him. Without harm. Hurting him now will just make him into an enemy. He's having a bad day, but we need to try and fix it, not take revenge without reason.”
The other man shrugged his hand off, but then froze as he turned and really looked at him, covered in his own blood, bruises blooming again across his already damaged body. Telling him to stop. Apparently it had some impact, because the man did and actually stepped back, a large breath coming then along with a curt nod.
“Right. Got carried away. Sorry. Let's get him to holding on eight.” They carried him away, Bridget following, still looking angry and ready to fight. She looked back at him when she got to the elevator, her face blank. She looked scared to Brian. He'd have to go to her soon if he could. If she'd let him, after fighting with her dad like that.
Several doctors ran in, coming up the stairs, with other medics behind them. They put the small guy on a stretcher and took him to medical first thing, using the stairs as well. Probably procedure in case the elevators went out in an emergency. That seemed right. Brian learned the man's name, Robert, and that he served as the leader for Team One. The other man came over to him, apparently able to shrug off the damage done after just a bit. It was a cool trick. Really, Brian kind of wish he had that power instead of his just at the moment.
“Thanks. Sorry it took us so long to get the situation. He's on our team, so we just assumed that he wasn't being the problem, except Rob, he kind of guessed, but he doesn't have the kind of power needed to keep Prime down on his own. LG tried, but Scott knows her too well. She can stop most people, even him, but he recovered and didn't let her hit him again, then... I don't really know what happened, he K.O.'d me pretty hard. Just a back hand nearly took my head off. Luckily I can heal most damage fast...” He took a good look at Brian.
“Which you can't, can you... You're that new guy, Proxy? The one that took out the Jackal? Damn... Medic!” He turned and waved over one of the people Brian didn't know.
“Him too. I don't know why he's still conscious. He fought with Prime and took him out... and here I thought it was impressive when Marcia did it. Damn.” He went over to comfort Lady Glory, who'd gone back to sobbing, holding her arms across her chest. He could get that, he'd sob himself, but it would hurt too much. This whole thing was a mess.
The medic looked at him but didn't do anything, except put something in his nose to stop the bleeding. After about ten minutes, Burrows walked over and looked at him. Actually, he realized, she was giving him a look.
“All right. I know you don't get a choice about all this, so I won't ride you, but damn you need to learn to fight better soon. Blocking with your face over and over again makes too big a mess and can't be good for your self-esteem.” She gave him a stare that didn't seem chastising, but wasn't happy either.
He just held up his right hand. It felt sore and heavy. “Honest, I just planned on a nice quiet night, moping alone in my room before bed. I never planned on taking a trip into a wall. Not nearly as entertaining as it sounds.” He tried to keep his voice light, and did a decent job considering, he thought.
She wanted to give him pain killers and something to put him to sleep, but he shook his head.
“No, I need to go find Prime first. It might be a long night...”
From over in the corner, sounding frightened – a tinny, almost mechanical sounding voice – Lady Glory, asked why he needed to find Prime. Her tone didn't sound as compassionate as her reputation had her being. He didn't want to be mean, but every time they met the woman seemed to think he wanted to hurt people and kept getting in his way. It was kind of souring him on her as a person.
“Look... I don't know what your deal is, but you keep using your powers to stop me from doing what I need to in order to help people. It's annoying. I get that you don't like me for some reason, but come on already! Twice now, if you would have backed me up instead of going af
ter me, other problems would have been avoided. Now, I need to go find Prime, because he's going to wake up alone in a cell, strapped down, thinking that all his supposed friends have abandoned him. Ever been there? I have, it's not a fun place. Something bad happened, but I'm not ready to throw the guy away or give up on him, not yet.” He stood, pain coursing through his back, nearly taking him down. That wouldn't have made him look good, falling down after making a dramatic speech like that.
He felt a prick on his arm and looked down to see a large needle pumping liquid in. Burrows smiled. “Nothing to make you overly sleepy, muscle relaxants and pain control only. If you have any pain or if anything gets worse, call us or come in, don't wait.”
Clumsily Brian stumbled to the elevator and tried to remember what floor number he needed. Eight.
Right, he escaped from there once.
He could do it again, if needed to take Prime out. Of course, Scott could probably do it himself if he wasn't in a blind rage, it wasn't that hard. On the floor, he found the Director standing with Charles and Charlot Chambers outside a tan colored door. He limped over, feeling better as the medicine kicked in. Brian didn't want to get too into drugs, but lately some of them had really been making his life easier.
They all looked at him when he came over. The Director actually looked frightened and went stiff, Charlot looked pissed, so normal for her if Karen had been right about that. Charles smiled and held out his hand politely.
“Thanks for earlier. I just... get too mad sometimes. Indignant. He could have killed someone, he nearly did, more than once. I know that Infected don't always have strict control of their emotions, but it's hard to remember that other people don't have the same downsides I do myself...”
They shook, Brian then took the Directors hand and did the same. Charlot swallowed and her lips went white. He held out a hand to her too. She took it, but shook, a slight tremble that could have been anything from fear or rage to simply not having eaten dinner.
