Infected 8: Impulse: A Whole New Day

by P. S. Power

  It took half an hour to get back to the new base. The Sho. She kind of liked it, as a nickname. When she walked in, Doug was back, and the telephone guys were there. Two of them, even if it were probably a one man job. Marcia was talking on her cell, which was the Director's traditional job, as Bridget unloaded easily eaten things onto the table from the wire cart. Kenny pointed at it, his face wry.

  "Oooh, you stole. Nice threads, too. Did you beat up a mini-protestor for them?"

  "Nope, paid fair and square. The card works, so at least there's that. Now, let's eat some grub, before I pass out from low blood sugar." That was a real threat, given the events of the day. She started with pure calories, and finished with hotdogs, which she ate without warming, on buns. With mustard, since that was how she liked them. Everyone ate a bit, including Marcia, who tried to pretend that having what Ken and Doug were was even close to sufficient for her.

  "I..." Bridget didn't complain at the woman, gesturing at the cart, where there were three more gallon jugs of oil. It really wasn't great food, all of it cold and not made for people that were used to having a five star chef or two on tap, but it would do the trick. If they ate it.

  "Marsh, we don't have time to coddle your food habits right now. So... cut the bullcrap, and get to it. We'll both be doing that for the time being. Yes, it will suck, but it has to happen. If we go down right now, people will probably end up dead." She sounded hard suddenly, her piping voice almost a growl. A high pitched one, but it got the other woman, her boss, for now, to do it, moving on the food cart, and taking care of things without her normal grimacing or moaning about it.

  Just as she was finishing the last few drops of golden liquid, her phone rang again.

  She answered it while smacking her glistening lips a bit. Kenny was watching those a little too closely for his own good. At least if the girl he'd mentioned on her first call to him had been his girlfriend. Otherwise it might be fine. Marcia wouldn't sleep with an employee, but she probably wouldn't slap him around for noticing her either.

  The man on the phone sounded familiar. Tense too. Bridget blinked, listening to him.

  "We saw the news. A few of us fell back to one of the local offices. Dallas- Fort Worth. We... have some issues. We're trying to coordinate with the local cops, but... Do you have CNN there yet?"

  Quartz stood, and shook her head.

  "Not yet. We're just getting the phones in. What's happening?"

  "We have a class four or five team taking apart Detroit. Bullet proof, which is why our men on the ground had to pull back. They're going to go back in with heavy ordinance, but forty-fours did nothing to stop these two. A man and a woman. About fifty civilians are already dead. It was a mob action that pushed them according to the reports. A crowd of several thousand tried to kill a little girl, so these two stepped in, but we have a classic problem now. They've won, but can't stop, because they figure that if they do, they'll be killed." There was an intake of air, and he went on. "We have a larger issue in Chicago. Two hundred dead or injured. That seems to be a gang. Miami, New York City, L.A. It's everywhere. Most of these started when Infected were attacked and other Infected went to their defense. We'll have to triage this. I don't think we could have handled this, even before the attack. What the fuck are we supposed to do, Turner?"

  Bridget managed to go still. For some reason, she knew what to do. It was crazy and strange, but she thought they could pull it off.

  Maybe.

  "Burkes? Tell everyone that we're coming. I need you to get a press thing together at your location. Tell them... Everything. That this is Braid causing all of this, and that we're all being played, Infected and non-Infected. Tell them that any Infected that was defending themselves will get a full pardon from President Lawrence, if they stand down now and stop fighting. The same for anyone that was attacking Infected, as long as they cut it out and leave now. They can run off, hide, or whatever. If they don't, then... I'll kill them. They have an hour to make their choice." She meant it, and didn't wait for find out what the man was going to say about it.

  She didn't really have a right to speak for the President, but the man would back her. If he didn't, well, that was asking for tens of thousands to die, wasn't it? So he would. Even if she was just a dumb girl that no one should ever listen to. She ran, once outside the Sho, heading across town, hoping that Mary was still at her shop. She had been earlier, since she was still doing brisk business. Charity was still helping too, but had mentioned needing to take off, now that she could.

  When she closed on the dark place, she saw a single light in the back, along with seven forms, surrounding her grandmother.

  They were standing in what could be called the back yard. If you were going to be generous about it, and refer to the overgrown grass there as a lawn. She really needed to come by and mow that for her, Bridget decided. Six of the people spun to look at her, even before she walked into the light. The men menacing Mary were all dressed very nicely, but the clothing reminded her a little of what an English dandy would have worn in a movie. The one standing in front of Mary was tall and thin, but seemed youthful enough. Familiar too, for all that he wasn't anyone she knew. He looked a lot like Mary, to tell the truth.

  "Hey everyone, you all look so cute in your little outfits! It's like a fantasy ren fair around here suddenly. I feel under dressed. I take it these are the Doyle's we ordered? Zephron Wyrdcraft, too?" A day earlier than she'd figured on, but Braid had said the Elcampayns would be taken in three days, not that these guys couldn't come earlier. That meant she had a chance to stop them herself, if she did it right.

  Bridget looked at the man in front who made a little sound. One that seemed hurt, actually. Slightly exasperated, to tell the truth, but in a fake and overdone way that implied humor, or would if he was from her own world. Whether that would stay the same across worlds she didn't know. Still, when he spoke the man was pretty relaxed and casual about it all. That meant he felt comfortable with her, she thought.

  "Zevros, actually. Wyrdcraft, as you said. I was just asking my mother if she possibly knew the where abouts of the Elcampayn children. Do you know that she had the nerve to suggest to me that they weren't in this world anymore? I'd credit it as truth, except the Morten Wester himself assured me that they were. I strongly doubt that he's lying to me, since Wester's never do. How do we reconcile those two things then, Mary?"

  There was shifting from the others, and one of the men, who was kind of cute looking, in a lean way, rushed her. She waited for him to reach her, and stepped to the side easily, then kicked him in the back, knocking him a good fifty feet away. It took a jumping stomp, since he was so tall, and using her flight ability to stabilize herself. It was a good trick that was a lot easier than landing, for some reason. That caused the others to move on her too.

  All with happy grins on their faces. That probably meant that they didn't get the beating they were about to receive yet.

  They didn't hold back, but they also didn't last too long. They were fast, and strong, as well as tougher than average. All in what seemed like the same way, too, which was interesting to see and led them into a high level of teamwork. They looked different from one another, but like they could be related. That made sense, really. They were from Hobbs world, and one of their main families. The fighters, she thought. They were good, too.

  Also losing, badly.

  There was just a difference between a class four and a whatever she really was. A seven probably, for all Braid had tried to confuse the issue. Not that it mattered. She was just faster and stronger than these men, and at least as good in actual fighting skill. About a minute into the whole thing, they were all on the ground, and she was wondering if they needed to kill them or not.

  Zevros hadn't fought, and was just staring at her. His face was a study in blandness too. Dry and a bit confused, if only around the edges. She thought so at least, it was hard to tell.

  "So, Mary, don't make me use force again. Out with it, where are
the children?" It was clearly meant as a joke, even if he sounded very serious about it, at the time.

  Bridget answered, her mouth moving on its own. It was a thing that just happened to her sometimes. Usually when she needed to get out of trouble. Not always however, so it took her a bit by surprise that she did it now.

  "They went to a different reality, earlier today. That's probably why your friend Morty didn't know about it. It was my idea. They're collecting more Elcampayns from other worlds to save yours. The idea is for them to revitalize their line with fresh blood, and assert their voice? That way they don't have to let too many suffer by vanishing again. I think they took advocate Hobbs and Brian Yi with them. He's um..." She didn't know how to explain Proxy at all, but Mary smiled.

  Her grin was fierce, suddenly.

  "He is called the advocate of this world. He was given that title by a member of the Order of the Circle, so it is not a thing to take lightly. A most formidable being. He cannot be spared from his duties here long, but he is a good soul, so seeks to protect our lands, even though they are far from here. Now, since you are well thwarted, need we actually fight and bicker? Know this, Zevros, you have a brother in this place and his father is Advocate Yi. He is called Scott Chambers." She waved a hand at the small girl who was standing there in her fake military bigot wear. "This is your niece, Bridget. I suggest you make friends, given that she has spent her day thwarting a Timberland witch, using naught but her wits and natural gifts. That is, you must admit, a rare sign of talent."

  "Aye, and it is! I'd been told of that. A Timberland infects this world alone. You should import a few others to even up the score. It tends to keep them more... manageable." There was a lot more friendliness in the words than seemed to fit the attack from the Doyles. One of them tried to pull a blade and move in on her, but she just let it hit, and throw her back, giggling.

  "Hey, don't ruin my clothes, I just got them. My other outfits were all blown up, over the last days." A hole had been cut in her shirt, but there was no blood from underneath it, because she was her. Even the Doyle's were hardly bleeding. Because they were freaking tough.

  That gave her an idea. It was probably a horrible one, with a million flaws, but she still liked it and didn't resist going with it, given how she felt.

  "All right, I need to recruit you all. Um, please raise your right hands and repeat after me?" She did it too and was shocked when, slowly, all of the men returned the gesture.

  "Great. Now, say this; I'm a deputy."

  Zevros went first, his young face confused.

  "I'm a deputy?" He was just asking for clarification, she thought, but the others went next and she sighed.

  "Great! That means you're sworn to the IPB for the duration. It pays something, eventually, but that will take a while. Okay, so there are attacks taking place all around this... Um, land? It's my duty to protect it, and now it's yours too. You swore an oath, after all. That's binding, right?" That was important to Hobbs and the others at least. She waited to see if they'd beg off, but none of them did. They didn't even argue that it couldn't count, because they hadn't recognized the words. She would have, even if she planned to help. It probably meant they were better people than she was, inside. "We'll get Mary to take us into the combat areas, if possible. This is part of Braid's plan. A, um, Timberland trick? So we need to let people know that, and try not to kill them, if possible. A lot of the fighters are Infected. Like me? Or, well, possibly like you? They'll all be different, so stay on your toes, and don't kill them unless they attack you and won't stop." She didn't know what to say, or how to explain. The Infected were almost never really the same like it seemed the families from Hobbs world were.

  But Mary did have a word for it, her face bemused.

  "Sports. Some with vast powers that will seem to play by no sane rules. Devorah Timberland seeks to use them to meet her vision. That would require the death of a third of the people of this world."

  It was more like a sixth, but the men straightened, ready, it seemed, to fight at her command.

  She felt a tear come to her eye. It was silly, but she kind of liked these particular people, so far. Even if they had spent half their time together trying to kill her.

  "First to Detroit then, if that's good with you Mary?" She might not know where that was, Bridget realized, but the world changed, and not only were they suddenly in a different and far away city, they were very nearly in the middle of an attack.

  Excellent, she decided. Bridget moved in, heading directly at a man with glowing purple fists, her own hands glowing in response, only in white. Like her mother's would have.

  Chapter eight

  Bridget took a chunk out of a downtown street, getting the attention of the man that had turned to her, trying to end her life with a blast of purple energy. It hit her, but skipped off her skin, a thin film of white light holding it away from her. A force field, at least against energy of a certain type? She'd never seen the effect before, but it was solid, and nothing got through as far as she could tell.

  Which was awesome. It looked good too. It even kept her TCC shirt from catching on fire, or disintegrating. Whatever the other blasts did.

  "IPB! Stand down, this instant. If you refuse to comply, I'll have to use lethal force. That was your warning. You have ten seconds to start working with me. Remember, if you stand down now, you get a free Presidential pardon. That's nothing to sneer at. You need to stop killing people though, and be ready to pay for that. Probably by being part of the new IPB, rather than prison. I heard that you were already trying to save lives? It's good practice for later. We have openings." It made sense to her, but she kind of expected the man to attack her again.

  Then she'd kill him. He had a buddy with him, it seemed, too. An old black woman that ran to the man's side, moving a lot more quickly than most octogenarians would have. She actually slid into place, almost skating on the sidewalk. Her body was naked, and looked younger than her face, but was strategically covered in pitch black shadows.

  Bridget pointed.

  "That looks incredible. Now, what do you say? Are you going to join me, or do you want to fight? Join my side and you get cookies..." She knew that she sounded insane, but couldn't help herself. It was just one of those situations where being sane and good wasn't going to help anything. No one else ever saw things that way, but it happened. All the time.

  Following the rules didn't work when the rules were stupid.

  So she decided to try making her own.

  "Eh? We don't really have long. We need to get off to Chicago, if you're going to work with us. There's a war going on there, and we have to stop it."

  There was a moment of silence, and finally a sob from the man, who'd stopped glowing, showing that he was a white guy, or possibly Hispanic.

  "We just tried to save that girl! They attacked her and we told them to stop. Now you're going to kill us. IPB..." He started to glow again, but one of the Doyle's moved to stand in front of her, his pretty clothing also being purple. That and green.

  "Nay! Do not be misled by past thoughts! The mistress has offered pardon for thy actions, if you but cease and join us in our quest to save this land from Timberland attack. We bid you come, be friends."

  The two on the other side looked at the group, and seemed confused. That was probably a good thing to consider, she realized. She was acting strange, and doing unexpected things. She'd have blamed Proxy's powers, but it was probably just her, if he was really out of that reality. No one was strong enough to directly affect people in other worlds, were they?

  "He's right. If you want to live, please raise your right hand and repeat after me?"

  For the second time that night, it worked, and the Doyles really helped sell the move too, because the second the two muttered that they were deputies, the instant it was said, the men in their fine clothing, each different than the other, all looking like they went to the same tailor as Willy Wonka, they turned away, watching for outside attack. It said a lo
t about their world, she realized.

  Apparently there, if you gave your word, it was good. No questions asked, and none needed.

  There were police there, and for some reason they didn't seem inclined to help or join up themselves. Probably due to the fact that a lot of them were already dead, having been fighting with these two. They, naturally, weren't going to be pleased when they realized that their dead friends had just been casualties because they'd thrown in on the criminal side of the fight they came across.

  In short, it was a good time to get them all out of there.

  "Mary, can you get us to Miami?"

  The world turned blue, but again, they were there almost instantly. This time the fight went differently, since it was a long battle line of police set up against four teen girls. The police here however were working as a solid unit, and giving about as good as they got. The Infected here weren't fighting that well, compared to her two new friends. Purple Light and Shadow. She didn't have time to get their real names yet, she decided.

  "Stand down! Cease fire! Everyone! Now!" She walked out into the middle of the street, getting shot and hit by a thrown car, but she wasn't injured. Knocked around a bit, since physics still worked, but everyone stopped, to stare at her.

  She repeated the offer of a pardon, and was promptly attacked by a blonde girl that simply appeared right next to her, trying to shoot her with what Bridget was willing to bet was a police issued pistol. The girl died, choking on her own blood. It had been reflex, but Bridget lashed out the instant the girl had pointed a weapon at her, and crushed her throat. It had made a crunching noise, and then she fell, gasping herself to death.

  "Sinclair!" A tiny girl that was still bigger than Impulse was by six inches ran at her, and nearly died herself. She seemed pissed off, but her goal was the fallen girl beside them. She knelt by her, dire hatred in her eyes. Then she kissed the dying girl. It was loving, and passionate.