by P. S. Power
“Too close to death.” He said.
Denis nodded.
“Way too freaking close. Still, we made it this time and seriously, who walks away from things like this? It must mean were the good guys, right?” He considered for a second. “Or the super-villains, but none of us has enough ill-gotten loot for that, unless you've been holding out on me? So I'm thinking we did something right to earn this. Probably you or Karen really, not me or Clark. Borrowed luck is good enough for me though!” Because, when it came down to it, today simply wasn't a good day to die, Denis thought. Not at freaking all.
Tobin patted him on the back in return then kept walking without comment. Denis shook from the reaction and fear, the excitement of not dying when he really knew for a while that he was going to. He didn't know if everyone else would think he was a pussy for shaking, but at that moment Denis decided not to care about that at all anymore. So what if he looked like a wimp? He knew who he was and freaking Prophet Darren wasn't going to rule him for the rest of his life.
He was the guy who just jumped out of an airplane without a chute. And lived.
The woods were young and the trees barely counted as such, no more than a foot around at best. Dense enough for a bit of cover though, so they all settled about halfway in and didn't go anywhere. This meant just sitting, which eventually meant talking. Denis wasn't anti-talking, not after the months of isolation, but other than the prison's food and the few books he'd read, didn't have a lot to share personally. Pain calisthenics probably wouldn't be a good topic given the situation.
What he did have a lot of was nerves and residual fear. Death had loomed at him and frankly gotten a lot closer than it ever had before. At least that he'd been aware of. Even when Brian kicked his ass all those times death hadn't seemed likely. The guy just wasn't a killer. Not in his soul.
Denis couldn't hack it that way either he knew, so wasn't judging. His best attempts at trying hadn't just failed because of bad luck or even just because Brian was a better fighter than he was. Not being a killer made a huge difference that way too. Sure, he could throw pain around or fuck with people's emotions, make them scared or have them tossing their cookies, that didn't even take much work. Killing though...
Yeah, a lot harder.
Yi had to take people's lives to protect others, but even that was screwing with his head. Wearing him down. Now Marcia was a killer. She'd take out a bad guy, or Clark, even Denis, without batting an eye and then sleep contented that night, dreaming of fluffy clouds or unicorns, whatever it was that went on in her head when no one was looking. It made her stand out at the IPB. Civilians worried about “Proxy” killing them, but it was foolish as long as they didn't try to kill anyone else, Marcia actually would if it even just seemed like a good idea at the time. It wasn't lost on him that she kept talking about burying people twenty feet down in the desert like she did. It had the sound of old experience. It would work too. Who checked that deep?
No one spoke for a long time, since everyone had a reason to be a tiny bit stressed still, didn't they? Everyone had nearly bought it today, except Marcia and she'd nearly had her whole new mini-team killed on the first real day. That would have sucked. Imagine the paperwork on that?
Wisely Denis didn't bother mentioning that out loud. That's the kind of thing that always got him in trouble. Saying something that he thought would be funny, to deflect from a hard situation, not realizing it could be insulting. How that one could be didn't make sense to him, but it probably would anyway. Keeping his lips closed did, a kind of “no harm, no kill Denis” kind of thing.
Zip.
Jay, filled with that manic energy of his and unable to fake calm, even for a few moments, started babbling a bit, a stream of consciousness that basically recapped the whole thing from his own perspective. Denis just listened, trying to relax and let the man's words soothe him, as fast as they were. After all, he'd gone months without hearing another voice regularly, and when he had it normally meant pain or abuse.
This was a lot nicer. Jay wasn't going to hurt him at all. Real sweet guy that way.
“So I think that we need to check out all the pilot's and see what the deal is and then get some food, I brought money to eat at the airport but there's no place to eat here, not even fast food. I can see that I should have brought my bag of snacks with me, but if I'd tried I probably wouldn't have made it. That was so hard, made it though, so all good. I was really scared for Denny, Clark nearly had him I think, but it just wasn't enough. Good try though, we should practice this stuff later if we get a chance, in case it ever comes up again. I know, how likely is that? But I wouldn't have thought it would happen once, so we should. If I'd practiced more I wouldn't have kicked the ground so hard at the end maybe and then I wouldn't have broken my leg.”
Clark sighed loudly.
“Give it a rest will you Argos? I can't take the yammering right now! I know I failed, you don't have to remind me. I suck and almost got Denny killed because of it.” The stork like man's adam's apple bobbed a few times and the words came out sounding pissy and a little cruel. A bit out of line going toward Jay, but understandable enough.
The squad leader held out a hand. Everyone looked at her, since Beatdown holding an arm out like that could mean pain to follow for someone. Probably Clark, but even being snapped at by the guy, Jay wouldn't want to see him beaten for it. Most likely.
“It's post trauma nerves, don't take off at each other over it. That can ruin unit cohesion. And annoy me. Mainly that last one.” The woman grinned, a forced and dark thing.
A little oddly Karen got up and sat by Clark, holding his hand. A move meant to be reassuring, her compassion showing again probably. Clark looked shocked and maybe a bit scared. Slowly he pulled his hand out of hers, which made her look a bit hurt. Marsh nodded though.
“Fucking-A right Clark. Not that Karen's a kid, but making sure you don't take advantage of women is half of what you have to do right now and her compassion and your need means she's probably vulnerable to you right now. Good job.” She didn't sound proud of him. Forced and edgy. No beating followed at least, so probably real enough.
Things went quiet for a second, so Denis decided to add his own, hopefully distracting, bitch to the conversation. Relax first, he told himself. Don't be a dick about it...
“Um, in the future, could people not call me “Denny” please? That... I used to be called that, by Prophet Darren. Usually before he took us kids out for torture or locked the boys up so he could “play” with and “instruct” the girls. I know that no one could have known that, it's a pretty normal nickname, but, if you can...” He tried to leave it there, which just didn't work. Everyone wanted to know everything, it could be seen in their eyes. No one asked at least. Karen teared up.
“I'm so sorry that happened to you.” She half wailed it, actually sobbing.
Denis nodded, “you and me both. I didn't catch the worst of it either. Not even close. No one raped me. Electrical torture to “teach us to behave”, being locked in a closet for days, weeks sometimes, with rats and spiders, that kind of thing, beatings with canes so that the spared rod wouldn't spoil a child. Not switches, but inch thick dowels of oak, so they wouldn't break too easily. Fasting for days on end and freezing cold showers in the winter to help “purify” our souls.” Denis looked around and wished for the first time in months that he had some booze. Not just a drink or two, but bottles of the stuff, to help him forget.
“The girls... it was bad. At first I didn't get the idea, not as anything wrong at least, I thought it was just what people did. At ten they all got taken as the prophet's “wife”. Now of course I understood that he was having sex with them all. He made us all watch sometimes, said it was so we'd learn how to be with a woman. I just didn't know that all girls didn't do that at ten. Not at first, but I knew that it was wrong. And I mean all of them. Regularly too. The fucker is a goat. So, yeah. Don't call me “Denny” please.” Looking down for a second he took a shuddering br
eath.
“For that matter, while we're on how screwed up my childhood was, don't imply that I'm gay either. That dick-weed did that as an excuse to punish me as a kid. Trying to “work the devil out of me”. I'm not gay, but even if I was it would still probably get me going if someone called me that now.”
Tobin, shirtless, hatless and wearing kids “farmer” overalls straightened. His voice came out a lot more strongly than Denis had ever heard it before, angry.
Very nearly fierce.
“We need to stop him then. I don't know how, but we'll find a way and make it so that he can't hurt anyone else again, ever. Even if we have to collect up some of the others and make sure he just doesn't wake up one day. I think... Cellophane could do it. Penny. I don't think anyone in the world could stop her if she decides they're dead. Not even Marcia and she's nearly impossible to kill.”
Marcia nodded.
“True... Sounds like a plan to me. Mark or maybe even Christian could do it too without being noticed, but if it comes to that I think Penny would have the easiest time. Mark won't kill and Chris would live the death. I've never been much of one for religion anyway and that abusive kind of shit is why.” Her dress hadn't made the fall very well. Barely hanging on in fact. Everyone kind of ignored that fact, except Clark, who covertly kept checking out her right breast, which popped out every few breaths. She didn't seem concerned about it. Really she probably didn't even notice.
“That and all the singing. I have a horrible voice.”
Denis made sure to focus only on her milk chocolate brown eyes when he looked her way. It probably made him seem hostile or something, so he forced a smile. A bit fake, he knew. What did they want though? Go from tool to arch-angle in sixty seconds? He'd tried flying already, and that hadn't worked at all. Honestly Denis wasn't sure how he'd managed to not wet himself. He didn't have to go anymore either, however that worked.
“Yeah, so, um, thanks? I should probably say I don't need help or something here, because a “real man” goes it alone, but that hasn't been working for me so well in life. My natural fallback position of being a jerk either, which, well, I suppose you all can figure out by now. So if anyone gets an idea, let me know.”
It was the most he'd ever told anyone about how he'd been raised. He couldn't go in to all of it yet. That would just be too much. There were some things Denis couldn't even let himself think about most days, not if he wanted to live with himself at all. Thankfully no one asked. No one really wanted to hear it all anyway. They may think they did, but they really didn't. Not if they wanted to sleep at night.
Looking a bit scared and sympathetic, Karen moved and put an arm around him for comfort.
“How about we call you “Den” instead? Is that alright? Or...”
The obvious trailing off got his attention, he was supposed to come up with some other thing to be called? He sucked at names. When he originally left Faithhome Denis' big stab of defiance had been changing his name by dropping one of the two “n's” in it. The pronunciation didn't even change.
“That's good. I can deal with that.” Better than Itch really.
That wasn't a high bar. Still it was the best nickname anyone had ever come up with for him, even if it did make him think of little rooms with big desks and shelves of books.
They stopped talking about him and focused on Karen for a while, since she was the only one in their group with an actual relationship to gossip about. She started out shyly but eventually went on for about an hour, telling them how great Brian was. Denis would have felt jealous, except that really, he'd just become a huge fan of the guy too. The thought, almost as if it were physically happening again, of the ground rushing at his face made him jolt for a second, Karen gave him a concerned look and stopped talking, but didn't say anything.
Denis shrugged a little and forced another grin.
“Flashback. I'm pretty sure I'm in for a few years of falling dreams or something fucked up like that.” Wincing he ducked his head. Not a genuine move, a cover for the fact that he didn't care about what he said, no more. Still, he tried, so that counted. Maybe.
“Sorry, I meant to say “something messed-up” I need to work on my language, I know.”
Almost instantly Marcia perked up and smiled, “fucking right you do! We work with the public now, so none of that shitty language or all the normals will think that Infected people all have potty mouths. Can't have grandma “McCunty” thinking we're heathens after all.”
The group laughed, not a big laugh, one that barely counted as jovial to tell the truth. Just as it ended a deep thumping sound could be felt inside. Denis sensed it well before he could catch the sound, or understood what it meant. Marcia stood and smiled.
“Chopper. Let me scout this first. Be ready to move. It's probably our ride, but if it's not we need to be ready to subdue them or flee. Ready?”
It took her about a minute to get a visual, and the markings seemed right, she told them after coming back. Black and big enough, an older model meant to carry troops. She said the name of the type of craft but Denis didn't catch it, the sound getting a lot louder as it landed.
“Even if it's from the base, that doesn't mean we can trust the pilot or that it's not loaded with assassins. Itch... I mean Gabe, I want you and Lady Glory to get ready to hit whoever this is. I'll go in first, the rest of you stand at the tree line. Goblin, you're backing up LG, if she has to strike, you go too, I want a psychedelic power ballad from you, don't wait for orders on it. Clark... You're on the injured man. If we have to run your only job it to make sure Jay makes it out, got that?”
He did. They all did. The helicopter set down in the same field they did and four people popped out almost instantly. Since two of them were doctors that Denis vaguely recognized from the hospital level, chances were that it wasn't a set up. The other two were agents, the tall one with the blond hair and a shorter Hispanic looking guy, both in black agent suits. So one of them could be a plant.
Denis casually mentioned it this to Marcia.
“Beatdown,” he said softly, “I recognize three of them. The short man in black I don't know, but how can we be sure the others aren't all... I don't know what to call them... bigot commandos?”
She snorted at him, but didn't correct his suspicions in an angry fashion. She wouldn't though. Would she? Not with suspicion being her own first mode. It would just make sense to her, as if Denis was finally acting in a sane and rational fashion.
“I have high confidence in Lancaster, the blond guy, and Reyes the shorter agent. The doctors are pretty certain too. The guy's Kern, and the Japanese woman is Doctor Burrows. Kiko Burrows, she's the head of the medical department. Nice, but I can't really vouch for any of them either. High probability they're not working against us. No proof other than previous behavior.”
“OK, so, we send invulnerability girl in first like we planned? Then you chat with them, feel them out, see if the guys check out your rack or look away in disgust from the “dirty Infected”, all that? Maybe make out with a few of them to make sure they can stand being around Infected or whatever the current test is for things like this? I'll stay back here with LG and the rest, since I'm not even a tiny fraction as tough as you are. Sound alright?” Denis grinned. That worked for him. He hated bullets, to tell the truth. Probably allergic to lead even. He didn't want to test it out for some reason.
“Exactly. Except for the making out part. Though that could work as a test in the future. I'll keep it in mind. I don't suspect problems and it looked like Lancaster flew, so it seems right... Back me up from here.” It wasn't a question. There was no doubt in the words either. She really trusted him to do it.
Denis waited as Marcia walked forward, holding her hands a bit away from her body as if to show she wasn't armed. It looked funny, but the other agents did the same, the doctors didn't, they just stood carrying red medical bags with easily visible white crosses on them, waiting for a patient to show. After about three minutes of tense conversatio
n the squad leader turned and waved to the others. As a group they all moved out carefully, except Karen who just jogged forward happily, as if nothing could ever go wrong with all her friends having come. Then everyone seemed like a friend, or potential friend, to her, didn't they? It made him wonder what she did when she met a real monster. Hug them?
Tobin at least had enough shyness to hold back, lagging behind by natural inclination and Clark had to focus a bit to bring Jay along, floating him in a comfortable, but silly looking reclined position. It made him look like he sat in an invisible La-Z-Boy chair. Denis just walked, keeping his own hands out and visible the whole time.
He didn't have a weapon and didn't want to be shot if one of the agents got nervous. They could be a bit quick on the trigger in tense situations. They were trained to take down up to class three Infected on their own at need, one on one, which meant that by training they were technically at that level themselves and sometimes had to handle fours. That meant they didn't wait for a threat to emerge all the time, they just attacked if the situation called for it at all. From zero to “oopse I killed you” faster than most people could track. Not good people to play practical jokes on.
“Hey everyone.” Denis spoke softly as the group approached. “Are you our new ride? I can't say I'm wild about the idea of flying right now, if you get me?”
The doctors both ignored him and jogged to Argos, who still floated in the air. Clark might not be good at catching falling objects, but he could hold large weights up for a long time without seeming bothered at all. The big agent had his mirror shades off, even though the sun was decently bright. He held out his right hand to Denis and shook firmly.
“I can get that. Best we can do on short notice. Beats the fuck out of walking, as long as the pilot doesn't bail on you. I'll be flying back myself. Don't worry, I promise not to leave you hanging.”
Denis grinned.
“Fuck, it's not the hanging that bothers me, it's the falling and the big impact at the end. I'll live though. Any words on the guy that did bail on us? I'd love to find him and... Well, have you and Beatdown work him over. I'll toss in a few painful effects for good measure though. Not trying to be a slacker.”