The Infected [Books 1-6]

by P. S. Power

  "What?" She sounded better than he thought she would, almost happy, in a still sobbing kind of way. "Oh, well, I might be a bit sore tomorrow, but I always cry after sex. Or really, whenever anyone is nice to me. Give me flowers, and I'd sob like a baby. Or I plan to. No one has ever given me any before." She nestled into him, with him on the outside of the spoon. It wasn't comfortable, but it was still nice. The room was black, and he was pressing up against her, which as soon as she stopped sobbing meant she could tell that he was ready to go again.

  She laughed a bit, and rolled over, kissing her way down his stomach.

  "I wasn't kidding about the limping I'm going to be doing. We can handle this another way."

  That, it turned out, she could, and they both managed to be asleep half an hour later. In the morning, at six by the clock, he got up, pulling on her arm a bit. The hot water wouldn't run out, but they needed to be up and around, with clothing on, before Prime knocked on the door.

  "Otherwise I'm going to look underdressed." He was still naked, and could barely see himself, without any lights on. Only the green glow from the alarm clock on the bed stand showed anything. Kerry looked really pretty though and murmured sleepily at him.

  "Come back to bed? We have... Whole minutes." She said it in a very young sounding way that made it seem like a very good idea, but he shook his head.

  "Nope. Shower now, and some makeup, since you're going to be on camera. Me too, but I don't have to do that. I just need to be all sexy and black."

  The words got him to blush, which meant going the exact wrong color, but he turned on the light and made his way to the bathroom to get ready. She joined him and hurried a bit, cleaning up, and doing some light makeup very quickly. It made her look a bit better, since it wasn't anything overdone. Just enough to look about right for this time of day.

  "You should move your things in here. At least some of them. A few changes of clothes and all that."

  She grinned and then struggled into the clothing she'd worn in the day before. Tobin was just in sweats, which were the ones he always wore. His Team Two shirt and all.

  They just finished when a firm knock came from the door. It was a tall person who did it with a raised hand, from the sound of it. It would have been shocking if it had been someone else, but it was a well dressed and perfect looking Prime, standing there in his normal golden perfection, ready for the day. He smiled, acting like he hadn't expected to see Kerry in the room.

  "Oh, hello! Were you two going over lines for the holiday special?" It sounded like he was trying to cover for them, but Tobin didn't know what to say in response. The reporters, there were six of them, all turned to see who was being talked to, and several brought little cameras around as he and Kerry stepped into the hall.

  Kerry, it seemed, had been briefed on the plan.

  "No. We're dating. Didn't you know that?" She sounded good, not nervous or shy about it at all. Tobin smiled and took her hand, not able to really speak, but he forced himself to try and stand straight and hold his chin up enough to look good for the pictures. Kerry closed the door behind them. "Are you going to be cooking today for the party later?"

  "If they let me. The Fourth of July is my favorite holiday after all. I'm so glad to live in a free country where differences are celebrated and we can all choose our own paths in life."

  Tobin felt a bit of anger inside, and had to take a deep breath. He got what the man was doing, but it wasn't just phony sounding, it was wrong. None of them had any choice at all. They were pretty much slaves to the system and they all had to know it. Even Prime, as popular and well loved as he was.

  It was bad enough that some of the reporters were suddenly covering smiles, getting the preplanned nature of it all.

  Nervous or not, Tobin could do one thing. Sing. Which he did loudly enough that he was probably going to have some noise complaints later in the day.

  "It's..." He started, getting everyone to look at him sharply. "A grand old flag, it's a high flying flag, and forever in peace may it wave-" Then he linked arms with Kerry, and winked at Prime, who took the other almost as if it were planned and started walking down the hallway. People started to pop their heads out of doors blearily and by the second set of lines were humming along. Horribly for the most part, but the whole thing seemed ridiculously well put together for all that. Debbie ran down the hallway, dressed in a white robe with a blue feather boa and a red hat, waving her arms in time to what he was saying, until they got to the last line, when everyone sang with him.

  Shouting really.

  "Keep your eye on the grand old flag!"

  Then, nearly perfectly, they went back into their rooms, and the three of them all unlinked arms and walked away, leaving a speechless group of reporters standing there. It was a good way for them to be, Tobin decided. He managed to get all the way past them, headed to the restaurant, with Kerry in tow, without even having to take a single question.

  She turned and kissed him gently on the cheek, and then left him in the main area, so she could turn off to use the elevator. Team Two was supposed to eat in their own dining room, and that wasn't going to be open for a while yet. For his part he had another basket with food in it, that seemed to have some kind of waffle sticks, hardboiled eggs and some fruit, as well as more little bottles of juice to drink. It was enough for him and Proxy, so he thanked the man at the door and took it down, only to find that Brian wasn't there at all.

  It could be that he was simply sleeping in, or had to go out on one of his missions. That... had to be terrifying. He could be walking along, or just talking to a person, and suddenly have to go and fight, or kill. It had even happened to him in the shower and several times while he was training in the gym.

  Tobin started to lift weights, not eating anything, in case he needed to move quickly, to get the man to the hospital level. That had happened twice. Brian coming back nearly dead, with only Tobin to help him. This time he just walked in the door though, with Karen alongside him.

  "Tobin! Aren't you taking a day off?" The sporty redhead bounced over and pulled him up from his machine, waving at Brian. "We are. The plan is to go into town and buy up all the illegal fireworks we can find. For public safety, of course." She nodded somberly, as if it were an actual thing.

  He shook his head.

  "Can't, full schedule. I got food for Brian. Leave me the fruit?" Then he went back to work. He didn't want Karen to think he didn't like her, but she was really sweet and it was hard not to be a bit needy around her. Doing that meant that she'd do almost anything to make a person feel better and that... Well, he sort of had that taken care of now, didn't he? It was still tempting, because she was very easy to love.

  She didn't seem hurt though and just patted him in a friendly way, then excitedly ran to the door.

  "We had singing. In the halls! This is going to be the best Fourth of July ever!"

  It was so happy that even Brian smiled, jogging behind her to keep up.

  Chapter five

  The rest of the morning was pleasant since almost no one came into the work out facilities. Even Denis was busy, so Hobbs worked with just Bridget and Tobin. It wasn't as painful, since they were just required to try and clear their minds while Carl came at random and tried to push them all over. They were sitting, and it worked every time with him, but not the others. Hobbs was just big enough to make it hard, and it seemed like the girl was holding herself in place using her ability to fly. It was a very good trick.

  After that he had to go to lunch.

  "It's on your schedule. Right there." Bridgie pointed at her palm and then rubbed at it a bit. "Oops. Must have worn off. Anyway, we eat together and have the occasional nooner when your girlfriend isn't around. Or will, after my birthday." She grabbed his butt, but kept walking. "See? I'm being good. Let's get cleaned up. We have reporters all over here today, so dress appropriately."

  That was harder than it sounded like, since he didn't know if that meant he was supposed to look his b
est, or if he was supposed to seem all happy and festive. Being him and knowing that there were only so many options to be had, he carefully dressed in red, white and blue. Normally that wouldn't have been hard, since that was what most of the people on the base, the Operatives at least, wore daily. They even had little flag pins for their t-shirts. Now it meant making up something out of his other, nice, clothing, so that it would fit. Oh, he looked like a patriotic gay pride parade float, with a puffy white shirt with epaulets, and bright blue pants that made it seemed like he'd mugged a cub scout, but no one could claim he wasn't trying. His shoes were red, and were the ones he used for running, but he didn't have dress shoes in that color. After all, no one did, except the Pope.

  It was the best he could manage, and hoped it would be enough for the day. If not he could just skip eating, and go see if Charlot wanted to start early.

  She didn't, he found that out before he was even seated, Sandra, the hostess, almost glaring at him as she walked to the table. He got a menu though and found that lunch that day was a mother, daughter and him affair.

  "You look like someone harmed a flag. Badly. We need to get you in with Scott and Jason for some clothing tips. I'll set that up. How are you doing today? I noticed that you were interrupting my sleep this morning?" She didn't seem upset at all, which was a good sign, he hoped. That or she was getting ready to really lay into him, and it was all part of her clever scheme to get him to let his guard down.

  Tobin really couldn't figure that she'd bother with that.

  She didn't make him explain at least.

  "It was incredible. All the reporters thought that we staged it, just for them. Even after we explained that we really didn't. Word is out nicely about you and Kerry, you'll be pleased to hear. Bridget said that she's got you on to sing this afternoon?" She looked a bit skeptical, but it was aimed at her daughter. Why that was however, he didn't know.

  After all, singer. It was what he did.

  "Yeah. Show tunes and some patriotic things. I have some ready to go. Not a lot, about half an hour's worth?" That was short for a real performance, but he had to get the music around and help with making burgers. He could do it, as long as they weren't attacked or bombed. Then, if that happened, no one would care too much that he missed his time slot.

  "That sounds wonderful. We have that down for about nine-thirty, just before we do the fireworks."

  That sounded a lot more official than just sneaking over to the Indian reservation and buying up what they had, which was what they'd done in previous years. Then, they didn't normally have the press invited to hang out with them all. In fact, that never happened. He almost wondered if Team Two wasn't invited, but Charlot didn't seem to think that would be needed.

  "It's Brian's idea. It's clear that simply showing the Team One people isn't enough, and while having you on the roster is a good start, we need to really show that the Infected are more than how they look. Do you think you could arrange with Charles some method of keeping everyone on best behavior? I know, it isn't fair, but..."

  Bridget laughed.

  "They aren't animals, mom. If they know not to drink, that they need to stay mainly dressed, and keep their dirty dancing to a minimum, they won't be any worse than most people. Will there be a fight? Of course. We'll just make a no powers allowed rule, and it won't be any worse than a National Lampoon movie." She ate the bread that had been brought to the table, with lots of soft looking butter. He didn't need anything really, and Charlot didn't touch it, just eyeing her menu.

  The woman nodded, if not in a way that seemed confident in the idea.

  "Still, you have closer ties there than the rest of us, and I think that they'll listen to you better than me."

  It was probably true, but he hadn't been down to see anyone in a few days and they might all be mad at him. He'd abandoned them and got a nice new room, while they slept in cells. They had a right to think he was selling out, didn't they? It wasn't going to be a lot of fun, but they were his people. His Team. No matter what the shirt said.

  "Yah." He didn't correct himself and had to make an effort to let the waitress that came know what he wanted. That turned out to be fish and chips, since Bridget had it and it sounded good. It was a special order, but the waitress just wrote it down, not seeming put out. She was a twenty-five year old woman, or looked to be, and had a fresh face with pretty green eyes and just a few freckles. He didn't stare, looking at Bridget instead.

  "They do a great job on those here. You'd think it would be all pâté foie gras and snails, but they can do other things too."

  The conversation was about to wind down, or felt that way, when a person that he didn't know, a blonde woman that was a little familiar, from television, came over with a cameraman. The hostess did try to stop them, but short of physically wrestling the woman to the ground, that didn't seem like it was going to be happening.

  She looked at Charlot Chambers a bit viciously and positively glared at Bridget, but softened a fraction when she turned to him, her words sounded pleasant enough. At first. Until he realized what exactly she was saying. The first part wasn't all that bad, or at least unexpected.

  "Tobin Peterson. I hear that you've been promoted to Team One? Is that a reward for your years of dedication and hard work, or a token gesture to show that the IPB isn't as bigoted as people think." It was almost panic inducing for a second, but then he felt a rush of confidence, and even though he didn't see Denis, this had happened before. It was kind of like programing, in case he was caught by the press while alone.

  "That second one, naturally. They are trying though, and even the event here today is part of that effort. You'll get a chance to meet both Team Two and Team Three today. This is the first time that's happened. But, yeah, I'm definitely the token, as you said. So far." For some reason that seemed to get the woman to pause for a second, as if he were supposed to deny it all? It was so clear that doing that would be silly. Even Charlot just shrugged, and answered in the background.

  The woman had held the microphone out to him, and took it back, her face going sly.

  "All right, that's an honest enough answer. So, what can you tell me about Pixie and Lady Glory's homosexual relationship?"

  That was the nasty part. It took him a few seconds to respond, but finally he shrugged, not knowing what to say at all. It was a secret, and from what he'd been told it was a real thing. They weren't supposed to admit it though.

  "Well, we all keep trying to get them to do it, but so far it hasn't worked. That would be really hot though, wouldn't it? Oh... I'm not supposed to say things like that to the press, am I?" He blushed a brilliant green, really feeling embarrassed about his words, but Bridget didn't let it go.

  "Yep, that would be something to see. I know that we could get Georgia in on it and I bet if we presented it right Karen would do it. Claim it was to help orphans or something? Make it a pay per view event? We could donate the proceeds to charity." She said it pensively, sounding only slightly playful, as if it were a real idea.

  The blonde woman with the microphone made a face.

  "So, still going with the 'nothing's happening here' story?" She turned back to Tobin for an answer, which got a shrug.

  "Well... Since it isn't, and probably won't be taking place anytime soon, yes. Though, really, I would pay twenty bucks to see that." He had to look away, a wave of shyness overtaking him. His partner covered for him.

  "Don't worry, I'm sure that someone will fake something up for the internet soon. I saw a video of you with a famous actress last week. True, you were CGI, but it wasn't bad." She stopped, which Tobin had to figure was a good thing, given the topic.

  Down the road of internet porn lie only graphic descriptions of what she'd been doing at the time. For Bridget at least.

  "Fine. What about the rumors that Kerry Yoder and her half brother Denis Tomkins have been having sex?"

  That got an outburst from Charlot that hadn't been there in defense of Karen or Georgia at all. It was
kind of a giant red flag for a reporter and the instant that she said the words, it was clear she saw the trap in the statement.

  "That's preposterous!"

  The lady in the blue skirt and matching blazer with her own flag lapel pin almost glowed, she was so happy.

  "Oh, so there's enough smoke there to show us some fire?"

  Tobin didn't stand, but he straightened, feeling actual anger at the stupid woman.

  "Do you work for a tabloid? Kerry Yoder is my girlfriend, and if Denis were trying to do anything like that, which he never, ever would, but if he did, say due to mind control, he'd have about fifty people kicking his behind. Go and find him. If he can walk under his own power, chances are he hasn't been doing that." It was fierce sounding and the man himself came walking up, exactly on the tail end of the words, looking perfectly fine, except for his wrapped left hand.

  The woman sighed.

  "Well, I don't suppose you'd care to comment? It seems like you have enough defenders here if nothing else. Then, the Infected do stand together, don't they?" It was almost like they were having a conversation and Tobin had missed the first half of it. He held up his left hand, feeling like he shouldn't, and spoke anyway.

  "I don't know where you were hearing garbage like that, but no, Denis doesn't have to defend himself against lies of that nature. Both he and his entire family have been hurt by accusations and lies, on top of the evil that Darren Jones did to them all. If you want to report on something, why not report on the fact that people keep trying to spin lies about an already horrible situation? Isn't it enough that..." He stopped, gasping for breath, if just a little. It was his mode kicking in.