War Day (The Infected Book 9)

by P. S. Power

  He gave her a little wave, and moved out to where Penny sat next to Wren, at the front desk. They were chatting, but not about anything too important. At least he didn't think it was.

  "Penny, we should take a walk. Past the old fence line." Tension made his voice hard and harsh, like it had been for over a year, and she gave him a look that was more than a little scared. He could kind of get that one, since as invisible as she could be, Brian was the one person that could always see her.

  If he wanted her dead, it would just happen. Except, as mad at her, and feeling as betrayed, as he was, he couldn't do that. They were friends. That had to mean something, even when things were hard.

  "Okay." That was all she said, and she got up to walk with him, trying to vanish as hard as she could. It made her seem a bit pale and translucent to him, but he could still make out her form clearly enough. Even with the skin dyes she wore starting to fade away. He did notice that she was armed, though the holster on her side stayed clasped. It was a good sign, he hoped. They walked for a long way, silently, until they got to where the old stand of trees had been. Where they'd talked several times before. Now it was blown down, all the trees pointed away from where the base had been.

  Knocked over by the force of the blast that had ended their old world. Finding a good sized tree, he straddled it, and waited for her to get comfortable. She just sat, and didn't look at him.

  When she spoke her voice was a bit raw. Not filled with tears, but nearly as harsh as his own.

  "I know that you don't get it. For a long time I was so alone. The world didn't have any room for me, so I tried to make connections where I could. It really didn't hurt people. I just... Well, I needed them. I needed you. I just can't stand it when they know I'm there. What am I supposed to do? I tried... With Daryl? It just... In the end I can't take being noticed, but I have to be. I need people, I just can't... What do I do? Now everyone hates me. They think I'm some kind of monster..."

  "That would be down to you really messing up. Worse, if you're around us all long enough, at least the others, they'll probably all kind of forget about it eventually. If they haven't already. Not Daryl or Marcia, but I think they leave themselves notes, so they won't forget. The others though. It's the way your power works. Still, wrong is wrong. If you want to be a better person, then you have to make it happen. If you don't... Well, I won't let you keep hurting people."

  He didn't want to threaten her. Honestly, he just felt tired, suddenly. Like it was all too much already. How was he supposed to deal with her? For that matter, why should he have to? They were friends, but not any closer than that. Except that she'd been with him, more than once, from what she'd said, back when Denis hadn't given her a choice in the matter, except to tell them all the truth.

  She didn't speak, because her having an idea would probably have been too much to ask, wouldn't it? It finally occurred to him that she thought he was just going to kill her. It was probably the best plan, but really, he couldn't. They might still need her.

  He needed her.

  "So, it's like this. Marcia is going to get some counselors in. You need to go and talk to them, and not do anything with anyone against their will, ever again. Can you do that?"

  She nodded, her face looking sad.

  "Do I have a choice?"

  "Not really. This isn't what should happen to you. You get that right? You should be parked in prison for the next fifty years, for what you've done. It's a pain, but so far none of the women that I've talked to seem to think that you raping men counts for some reason. Except Marcia. We don't have a cell for you though. Plus, you may be needed to help out soon. That you're getting special treatment doesn't mean you should be. You get that right?"

  She looked away, but her voice was a bit louder when she looked back. Not angry, but holding more energy.

  "I know. Still, you can't seem to see that I didn't have any choice in it. I had to make contact with people, and I have needs... Why can't you see that?"

  He rolled his eyes, finally feeling more than a bit exasperated on the issue.

  "Really? I'm pretty sure that every ugly rapist ever has thought the same thing. The fact is you didn't do it because you had needs, you did it because no one could stop you, and you thought you'd never get caught. It nearly worked too. That doesn't make it right. Look, I don't give a flying fuck what you did to me. That isn't the point. It's that you can't see it as being wrong for some reason. You did things that are going to hurt people for a long time, and don't seem to care about that at all. That isn't what a good person does, Penny! You have to be willing to..."

  The truth was, it didn't matter. He knew that. Honestly, he didn't even know if anyone back at the base would remember it as having happened at all. Lancaster, maybe Christian. Would anyone else get it? Or would Penny have erased all memory of the events from their minds already? It was part of her power, and not a thing she directly controlled, so he couldn't blame her for that.

  He could hold her responsible for her actions from then on, however.

  Without saying anything more, he got up and walked back to work.

  After a while, she followed him.

  Chapter seven

  The next day was clearly trying to make up for the fact that he had two fairly quiet ones in a row. There were six trade outs, one of which had him fighting a crowed of angry bigots. That was the last one of the day at least, since for some reason they'd decided to meet for a rally at midnight. Normally he would have just run off, but the little girl they were trying to kill had managed to get herself stuck in a basement.

  The building wasn't abandoned, since it had electricity, but it was still cold inside when he got there. A fist flying directly at his middle, he blocked and started punching frantically. A few low kicks were added as he was pressed by the sheer weight of bodies toward the brick wall behind him. That trapped his arms, which he freed. It made for a desperate fight though, since for every person he put down, screaming in pain for most of them, two more tried to take their place.

  It went on too, with the bigots in the back chanting something about killing the freak. That would be the scared little girl, he guessed. No one tried to explain why, not that it would have mattered.

  Finally he remembered the gun at his side, when one of the men trying to kill him went for it.

  The shooting that followed got the fifty or so people right in front of him to back off. He didn't have any more bullets, but did have a knife. It was just a hunting blade, but once he was armed the dynamics of the situation became a lot different. The haters fell, as he slowly moved in on them, one step at a time. He was still hit and had to face some garden tools that were being used to try and kill the girl he was protecting.

  About half of them managed to work their way back up the staircase eventually. A few were even smart enough to realize they had to run. It was getting hard to see, since outside the building it was dark, and his eyes were starting to swell shut, thanks to the beating he'd gotten already. They were just regular people though, so he kept after all the ones that weren't fleeing fast enough. They died, the bodies littering the floor.

  When there was no one else left, he started to jog away. It was just possible that the ones that ran might come back for the child. She was little too. Maybe seven or so. Young. It was clear that she was large. Easily six-eight or so. Probably scary looking as well, but her first mode... Seemed to be a kind of low level depression. That, or her life just sucked so much that nothing else was coming through except a generalized fear of dying.

  It was messed up, but there was very little he could do for her. He'd come to save her, but now he'd leave, and...

  Blinking, he looked around. There was no reason he couldn't come back with help, was there? Call in outside resources and make sure that she got some real help, not just a chance to hide a little better.

  That took hours, and he didn't even get to go home that night. In fact, Mary had to come and find him, when the donuts were ready. Sara, th
e little girl, was a foster child, but one of her keepers had decided that beating the gentle giant of a girl was fair game, since no one would care. She was rough looking, and a bit like a fantasy orc in appearance.

  The worst part was that it turned out that the foster dad was actually close to being right. No one really did care about what happened to the girl. Except for him. Well, him and some of the people at the base, who got the girl a cot in a tent, when the state refused to do more than lock her up in the local jail for the night, not having anyone willing to do much for her at all. It pissed Brian off, but Wendy agreed to help watch out for her.

  Still, what were they supposed to do with a seven year old? She needed to be in school, and playing with dolls. Not living at the site of a giant explosion. Mary found them, with him trying to get the little girl to eat some eggs and bread.

  The donuts went over better, Sara polishing off a full box of them before Bridget could come in to get a snack.

  Mary nodded at the large green girl, who had tusks and looked to be a lot older than she really was. Her hair was long and dark green too. Her eyes were a deep black. After finishing the pink goody filled box, she looked at Mary, her face serious.

  "Sthank yous." Her long teeth got in the way, making it hard to speak clearly, but she seemed pretty smart.

  "You're very welcome, dear."

  The thing was, even with Wendy helping out, he really didn't know what to do with the girl. She needed parents, and it was pretty clear that it just wasn't going to be happening. No one wanted a little girl that could push a grown man through a wall. That was what had happened to the a-hole foster dad, after half an hour of beating her with a belt. There were no marks on her skin, those having healed already. Given everything, she was probably a class three or four, or would be later, when she grew up a bit more.

  It was nearly enough to steal his breath away. What could he do to help her? He didn't have the time for that kind of thing, or the aptitude. The closest he'd ever come to being a real parent was slapping Scott on the back and telling him he was sorry about being a total failure at the job. So, it was clear that he couldn't just step up and do it all himself. Any of it, if he were going to be honest.

  She was so gentle and nice too. Sad, as well, but who wouldn't be? Every person she'd ever met hated her on sight. They had at least.

  Brian stood up, and took a deep breath.

  "All right. We need to go and do our morning exercises. Do you want to lay down, Sara? I know you were up all night." It made sense to him, but she shook her head.

  "Nos, Sthanks yous."

  He nodded, not asking her why that was.

  "Okay, then come with us? Bridget, will you be her buddy for the day?"

  She was busily eating her own box of donuts and probably didn't want to be burdened with a little kid either, but nodded immediately.

  "Yeah, you stick with me, Sara. I'll make sure you're all right."

  Then as they left the tent, pushing the flap aside, Mary leaned in and kissed him gently, on the lips.

  "Bridget has the makings of a good parent, I believe. I don't have that kind of skill."

  "Me either. Not yet. I wish I did. That poor little girl. What do we do?" The answer didn't come, since the explosion from out front was too distracting. Brian ran toward it, going full speed, only to find that it was handled by the time he got there.

  It had been a car, at one point. A large American one that was gold in color, he thought. Now it was a smoldering ruin. No one was panicking though, since it was Marcia that had blown it up.

  "This, is a rocket propelled grenade. I want everyone to take a turn with this sometime today. Robertson, you'll set that up for us? Then I want the remains of this car taken care of. We can't leave trash lying around. People will think we're sloppy."

  Marcia grinned at him, but handed the weapon off to Bridget, who already knew how to use the thing. Then Sara got a chance, being right there. It was both cute and a bit scary, seeing a giant green girl clap happily after taking the front half of the car off from a hundred meters out.

  Then he and Simpson got them to actually run, which was what they were there for. It turned out that Sara was a good runner, and could easily keep up with the exercises, but was a bit sloppy in the fighting portion. She didn't have any skills, but had to work with the tough people, because she was too strong for the newbies to handle. She healed fast, but was only a little tougher than a regular person. On the good side, she didn't cry when Marcia hit her.

  Though she was tackled to the ground when that happened, Bridget throwing her down hard enough that the Earth shook below them. Everyone turned to look as a much greater battle started then. It was pretty impressive, but didn't let the rest of them practice much, so after a minute he started cycling people through on the RPG set up with Roberts.

  "Okay, you two cut that out. We have real work to get to!"

  Neither of them were hurt, but Bridget did glare at Marcia as she backed away.

  "Sara's only seven. Take it easy on her." It was nearly growled, but Brian could see Marcia not having known that. Rather than take them to task for having a little kid there, she just looked at the girl and nodded.

  "I see. Okay, Bridget, I want you to set up schooling for her. Anyone under seventeen needs to at least have a GED. See to that. Sara, can you keep working with me? I'll show you some tricks and not hit you that hard again. For now. At least until you know what to do."

  That got a second growl from Bridget, but Sara was game, seeming to enjoy the attention, even if it hurt a little. Marcia was a lot nicer to her then, but still made her work hard enough to sweat the whole time.

  It wasn't fair, but he got the point. A girl that looked like she did would have to fight, sooner or later. The better able to handle herself she was, the more likely she'd survive whatever was coming. Not that he knew what that was going to be.

  Brian skipped eating himself, and drank a lot of black coffee that morning. It meant dragging through the day, and taking lunch at his little table desk, but he started to get caught up on his reports. Just his though. He was also responsible for Team Four, and that meant handling them all individually. As if they were real people.

  Finally, at about two in the afternoon, he got Wren to just have them all come in, one by one. Hopefully it wouldn't be too great a hassle for Rigs, energy wise. That was a major concern, at least for him. Marcia clearly knew about that part too, and so did Wren. She was the one that kept the silver spider on her wrist all the time. That was called Coordinator. It wasn't all that pleased that Brian didn't get it could speak for itself.

  "Hey, buddy, that's my job, not Wendy's. If you want the others to get their butts in here, you need to deal with me. Jerk." The voice was a bit sarcastic, and sounded like he might just be from Chicago.

  "I'm sorry. I should have realized that. Would it be possible for the members of your team to come in, if they've been out on missions? It's just for reports, but that would be easiest for me. They can call in too, if needed. I know they live at their sub-station." Which was in Rigs' head, but he didn't know what they were off doing, he'd said. It seemed unlikely, but every Infected power was a bit different than any other. That was almost a rule.

  Even though they could all teleport themselves, appearing where needed, the first of the new team didn't come in for nearly three hours. They weren't off working or anything, so what the holdup was, Brian didn't know. He also didn't ask, since really, it wasn't that big of a deal. Maybe they were off having a party, or going to the beach?

  At first he didn't know that anyone was even there for him, until a small man with pointed ears and collar length blond hair cleared his throat. The man was right next to him, too.

  "Hello! Can I help you?" The man had cat slit eyes too, and made Bridget look tall. If he was four feet high, it would have shocked Brian at the moment.

  "Yes. I've come to report? We have seen much of battle in the last weeks. I shall regale you with it, in the form o
f a ballad!"

  The thing there was that he wasn't kidding.

  T'ket, the name of the man, who insisted he was a forest elf, did the whole thing in a kind of spoken word singing. Brian took notes and didn't interrupt him, since it would be mean to force the man to lose his place. Also, he seemed really happy to be there, so it wouldn't do to spoil that for him. When he finished, Wren came from the front, along with Sara, and clapped.

  "That was great!"

  Brian had to agree. It was a bit hard to take all of the meaning from it, but he got the basics down, which was good enough, most likely.

  The tiny man bowed, and moved off toward the far side of the room, vanishing, only to be replaced some minutes later with a rather cute woman who could have been Marcia's sister. Her hair was straighter, and long, but there was a lot of resemblance otherwise.

  He started again, but this time got a very clear, almost military, report. The woman, June, went back over several points, reading what he had down, and making corrections if he misunderstood anything.

  "No, I change shape. Not Lissa. I was the gargoyle. Lissa was the girl on fire."

  He learned that one after Dev'an came in, since she nearly lit the whole thing up. That girl though, and she was a kid, at least in form, was sweet, and very patient with him. In fact, they all were, more or less. Considering that Rigs had rage as a first mode, it was good to see. His avatars were all good people, as far as he could tell.

  There were a lot of them though. Eight that he talked to, and that didn't count Coordinator. From the reports it was also clear that Rigs was lying when he claimed he could only hold five of them at once. Oh, maybe that was true for long periods of time, but there were at least two occasions when all the ones Brian had met were out at once, fighting, or trying to save lives.

  They seemed so real too. Except the spider creature on Wren's wrist. The rest of them could have passed for people, perfectly. Even in an interview with the press. Most of them were good looking too. Dev'an was a bit funny looking, but the rest of them were easily television ready.