The Infected 2: Gabriel

by P. S. Power

  That was easier than holding her in place, so he did it, careful to redouble his efforts on Clark. The girl woke slowly and looked around at everyone, then down at Clark. Then she scowled at everyone including him and stood rapidly, crossing her arms.

  “I made him do it! You can't punish him... I didn't give him a choice.” She proclaimed rapidly. Loudly. Stupidly. It started another argument and then, just when it looked like Bridget was about to duke it out with Prime, even more people showed up. Karen looked worried and concerned, glancing hard at Clark lying on the floor, then... Brian. Rachel growled a bit when she got filled in and seemed suddenly ready to rip things off of Clark and that didn't seem like it would stop at mere genitals either. Not wanting to be that close to a fight, Denis kept his mouth shut as everyone else shouted at each other. Hoping that if anything happened no one would come after him for making them fall asleep.

  Finally Brian held up his right hand and amazingly everyone stopped and looked at him.

  “Let's take this to the Director. I... Yeah.” It was a plan, if only one to dump things on someone else. It worked for Denis at least. As long as it didn't get dumped on him.

  That got them removed to a nicer venue, one of the second floor press conference rooms, a medium sized one toward the back, beige carpet and wood panel walls, with enough chairs around a decently large shiny table that Clark could easily be beaten to death with, from any quarter. Denis put his money on Marcia breaking first, that or Charlot Chambers. Her hands were glowing again, a much brighter white than he'd seen when her anger had just been over him.

  Bridget had to be removed from the room, a job given to her grandmother, since very few other people could handle her if she decided to fight. Even Prime would have been pressed he admitted, which was news to about half the people in the room. Prime was a class five, but Rachel was a class six and though no one had told her at all, so was Bridget.

  Brian mentioned it softly after she was taken out of the room.

  “The medical exams all say she's going to have some kind of energy blast and maybe be able to fly, like Prime. It's... Well we're all hoping she can learn to control herself before that happens. It will functionally make her a class seven... No one will be able to control her.”

  Denis could, if it came to that, but...

  Seriously, he did not want to be in the middle here. Having the pint sized girl mad at him wasn't his idea of a good way to get along with others. Or survive. He'd have rather had Prime mad at him, where at least flattery and ego boosting might save him. Bridget wasn't called Impulse because of her speedy movement and quick reflexes. She'd kill him. Oh, she may cry about it later, but her initial thought would be acted on instantly. Censoring herself wasn't something the kid was good at.

  Marcia didn't rant or rave, she just stood near Clark, and waited for him to come to consciousness. It took a long time for Moore to get into the room, over two hours and frankly, Denis had a headache from using his power for that long keeping the stork under. One right between the eyes. It was really just eye strain from staring at Clark so long without really moving much. Not a huge downside for a super-power really. Still, it felt nice to let go of the man when the Director asked him to.

  Then he had to drop Marcia almost instantly. Paralysis. Without so much as hesitating she'd started choking the life out of Ichabod. Not that he would insist that they keep the guy alive, but everything here was watched. If they wanted to kill him, they needed to take him out of the base area first. Given that though, Denis didn't want to mention it out loud. If they were going to be stealthy about it, open discussion on camera seemed a poor plan.

  After a few minutes he let Marcia up and she did indeed manage to calm down enough to not kill someone. It took Brian standing in front of Clark to get that to happen however. Yi was ready to go toe to toe with Marcia it seemed and no one in the room seemed to doubt who'd win. How that was supposed to work Den didn't know, but Marcia, invulnerable or not, having personally taught Brian how to fight or not, didn't seem willing to pursue the matter at the moment. She did keep glaring however.

  When Moore held up a hand toward her she stopped and waited at least, breathing hard, ready to fight. Then Moore slapped a folder down in front of Clark hard. Waving he got the man to open it.

  “A death warrant Mr. Clarkson. One prearranged in case you ever decided to re-offend. Do you have anything to say in your own defense? If so, speak now. Bridget is like my own granddaughter. It's all I can do to keep from killing you this instant myself and I've not had to do that for a very long time.” The tone of voice sold the room on the fact of it. Clark seemed to buy it too, from the way he was suddenly covered with sweat and gulping at an even faster rate than normal.

  The only person even trying to speak in his defense was the team two leader, a squat man with a strawberry blond cop mustache and hair to match. Longer than the police would allow, but not unkempt. He wore a pair of sweats that said team two on them, half the people in the room wore something similar. Brian and Karen both did for instance.

  “Well, not thrilled about one of my people fucking Bridget, but she isn't exactly twelve anymore. Not old enough to give consent, and her first mode makes that legally dicey even if she was. Should we really kill the guy over it though?”

  Good point. Denis shrugged and then winced as his right arm ached a bit harder.

  “Well, if it had been the first time, I'd say let it go. Fifteen may not be legal, but the situation here isn't normal either. If a girl her age wants to get laid, it's going to take a lot of work for a lonely guy like Clark to say no. But... Clark knew what he was doing here, and to tell the truth, she looks so young still... I can't mentally separate this from child abuse. Plus, wanting it or not, you should have said no you moron.” He stared hard at the stork like man until the guy grimaced a little.

  Marcia gave Denis a few half deadly looks, then agreed.

  “Good points, all of them. Moot though. I have a warrant of execution and that means he's mine. Charlot and I will just run out into the desert and make our little Clark problem go away. What say?” She looked at the angry woman with the glowing hands and silky red nightie on. Denis just realized that Charlot looked totally hot. Too bad she was a psycho bitch. Not that he could blame her this time. He felt like blasting Clark too, if with severe pain and every kind of discomfort he could think of.

  At that everyone in the room started to simply agree.

  Denis sighed and looked at the Director, “shouldn't we at least have him checked out by Ellen Doer?”

  After a few seconds the Director pulled out a small black cell phone and dialed quickly.

  “Ellen? Something of an emergency, conference three, floor two please?” Then he hung up forcefully.

  As if giving lie to her standard old lady costume, Ellen ran in wearing IPB sweats, what agents wore, or trainers, and her hair being down made her look nearly twenty years younger suddenly. Late forties tops. Heh. He knew she was faking the whole old lady bit too hard. She did a work-up of Clark and just shook her head after a few minutes of intense concentration.

  “Nothing. A bit of coercion from Proxy and Quartz, but nothing that would cause him to take or not take an action other than that.”

  “Good, I can kill him then.” Marcia stood and walked over. Denis didn't disagree with her, but... he wasn't a killer. Letting someone else kill would be nearly as bad. Maybe in the heat of the moment, but this was, like it or not, one of their own teammates. Fuck. Double fuck. He'd have gone for a triple but he didn't think he had enough time.

  “How about... OK... Um...” Denis scrambled, trying to make a suggestion that wouldn't get him killed too.

  “What if we throw Clark back in lock-up and only bring him out for his crowd control duties? I mean... um, well, Bridget does seem fond of him, right or wrong and if you kill her friend for having sex with her, I don't think it will be healthy for her emotionally.” Denis tensed and waited. It probably sucked as an argument but it was
all he could offer. Half of him wanted Marsh to handle this her way. The pedo deserved to be dropped from a plane, after being blindfolded first so he couldn't just float down. They all knew it.

  Instead of a beating, or being blasted through a wall by an enraged mom, everyone stopped and stared at him for a minute. The white dropped from around Charlot's hands and Scott sat back and looked... considering, if still half ready to kill the man. Marcia looked ready to move still, but didn't. About the best that he could hope for there.

  Finally Director Moore nodded at him.

  “Very well Denis. Expand please?”

  “Um, well, not a perfect solution, but when Clark is out he always has an agent or one of us watching him. Not Marcia.” Denis smiled at her and didn't get so much as a twitch in response.

  “He isn't exactly dangerous, not even to Bridget. He just can't be trusted with her is all. So... I say we just lock him away unless we need him, until Bridget reaches the age of consent for this state. Which is...” Denis didn't know. Hadn't even thought about it before. If a girl wasn't over twenty-five or so he just didn't bother looking at her most of the time and eighteen was a safe number anywhere if things ever got desperate enough.

  It was Prime who answered, which would have made him laugh if not for the fact that a few of the other people nodded along. Of course he'd know the answer though, and off the top of his head. It was something that came up in his life no doubt.

  “Sixteen here. If they were closer in age now it would be legal, but Bridget's a bit special... her first mode makes a lot of things that aren't good ideas seem doable to her. Reasonable. The whole thing is a bit of a gray area.”

  So... less than a year? No one seemed happy about it, but at least Clark didn't have to die and he'd be out to work, which didn't sound like much fun, but it would have been a great thing as far as Denis was concerned. Just getting to see people every few weeks or so was a bigger treat than the man probably deserved.

  “Right, so that and near daily therapy sessions and possibly regular beatings from Charlot and Prime. Charlot at least, if we're foregoing the death penalty.” Denis stopped talking before he started arguing for castration as well.

  The girl just looked so young to him. She reminded him of some of his half-sisters when they had just turned ten. Except all of them, skinny and small for their age like Bridget, couldn't choose who they wanted to be with. The thought made him want to hit Clark anyway, even though he was really mad at Prophet Darren. Strike him several times, or better, let Marcia or Prime do it. That would kill him though, most likely.

  Clark looked nervous still, Adam's apple bobbing and wavering as the Director took the papers back and everyone agreed to let the man live for now.

  “Thanks man.” He said to Denis, actually looking grateful.

  “Fuck that you cock smoking piece of shit!” Denis shot to his feet wanting to jump the man to make his point.

  “You don't deserve to live. I'm doing this because that little girl will be severely messed up if you get offed today. If I even hear about you thinking that sex with anyone younger than twenty is a good idea, I will personally grab that fucking folder back and blow your brains out myself. And fuck, if I can't do it, you can damn sure bet I can find myself a volunteer to help. This is a gift, but don't you ever thank me for it.”

  Denis really wanted to hit him, but it would hurt too much. Denis looked at his arm for a second, the splinted one.

  “Brian, hit him for me will you?” Denis said, half meaning it as a joke. An angry, dire sounding one, but...

  The blow landed before the words finished coming from his lips, a hard right to the jaw that took Clark all the way out of his chair and onto the ground, making him roll once he hit. The tall man was out cold.

  That worked.

  Denis blinked. He'd need to be careful asking Brian to do things like that in the future it seemed. It functioned pretty well this time though. If he'd done the hitting the man would probably still be sitting in his chair. Probably laughing. That or offering to help Denis off the floor where he'd landed in pain.

  Marcia offered to take him to holding, her voice almost sweet suddenly, but the Director shook his head and muttered something about him getting there alive. A couple of agents were called in to do it, after a quick trip to medical to make sure he didn't have a shattered jaw. It really would serve him right, Denis knew. He probably should have had Brian kick him in the nuts a few times too. Apparently the idea of pulling punches didn't mix with Proxy's lifestyle anymore. That made sense, but seeing someone like that was scary. Everyone hesitated and everyone had some limits to what they'd do. That Brian didn't...

  Was probably how he'd survived this long.

  When the room cleared Marcia stared at him, like she wanted to jump up and start re-earning the name Beatdown, but Charlot sat back and just looked down at the table top. He just let Marsh go on with her glaring. Denis understood after all, he really didn't like the situation either. As long as she wasn't hitting he decided to just keep his mouth shut and take it. She wasn't kind, and she did imply that he liked men several times, maybe even Clark, trying to get him going. He just looked at her and waited. Finally, surprisingly, Charlot Chambers stopped her after a few minutes.

  “Oh... I hate to say it, but he's right, Marcia. I know my daughter and if we let her “boyfriend” die over this we'd probably all have to watch our backs for years. She may be impulsive, but she has power and her intelligence shouldn't be ignored. She'd find a way to make us all pay. I still kind of pity most of team two... They probably think she's forgotten about the whole thing, or forgiven them, but she rants about it daily to us in private.”

  At that, since no one seemed likely to hit him for the moment, Denis decided to go and try to find something to eat. It was between meals though and he didn't know what to do really. Fuck. He just stood and wandered out, not even thinking about it, but Brian and Karen walked with him. Karen patted his back a few times at the door, then they all went down to level nine, since Mark would be able to get them into the kitchen for sandwiches or something. He had a key.

  Unfortunately Rachel had taken Bridget into the dining room there for safe keeping. That... really wasn't going well. A lot of cursing and a bit of hitting seemed to be going on, at least from the outside. Without even pausing Brian walked in.

  Denis kind of wondered, just for an instant, if the man was suicidal. Denis didn't want to go in there, that was for damned sure, in fact he put his left arm out and stopped in the doorway to keep the lady with them safe. Karen pulled him in with her anyway. Fudge. So much for pretend chivalry then.

  At least all of them showing up like that got the tiny girl's attention. Rachel had been holding her in both hands about six inches off the floor by the throat as the smaller form struggled and kicked. Bridget couldn't break the grasp maybe, but she could send both of them careening around the room like pin-balls. Neither one had real wounds yet at least, though only one of the fifteen odd chairs in the room stood upright and what used to be the dining table lay in a collapsed heap in the middle of the floor, propped up by one leg only.

  When she saw them, more to the point, Brian, the girl stopped so suddenly that Rachel staggered and nearly dropped her. Staring at Brian she spoke softly. Menacingly.

  “If you killed him, I'll hate you all. I'll kill you all.” It came out low, for her normally high pitched voice, menacing and deadly enough, once you factored in that she could bench press small cars with one hand and definitely fit under your bed to wait for a person to be off guard.

  Brian shook his head.

  “He's alive. Close thing though. Moore had the death warrant out and signed. That was the original deal you know, that he not have contact with any minor at all. Especially you. You were warned too, only it's him that gets punished for it.” Brian looked at her and shook his head.

  The girl clapped.

  “He's alive? Oh! Goody!”

  Holding his right hand out firmly, looking
stern, Yi shook his head at her.

  “Fucking close Bridgie. As it is he's going to be locked up until you turn sixteen and if even one more thing happens like this he just dies. He'll be out for work, but guarded. This isn't a joke, do you understand? No one will be able to protect him again. Really, I don't think they should. Not to be mean, but I voted to have him killed. The only reason he's alive now is because of Denis and trust me, Denis didn't want to do it either. Just trying to give the guy a chance I think, mainly because he thinks it would hurt you if we did it. That excuse won't play with this crowd twice.”

  Suddenly a tiny form flew at him, taking Denis to the ground. For some reason he reached back to catch himself with his right arm, which got a small scream from him. A fairly agonized sound to his own ears. Bridget didn't seem to notice. Little stick arms as hard as iron went around his neck and tiny nubs of breasts pushed into his face through her red t-shirt. It didn't help at all that she'd been wearing a children's program icon on her front through the whole thing, a giant yellow bird head, Denis decided once he could think.

  “You saved him? Thank you! I...”

  Grunting he whispered into her ear.

  “Um, my arm? Kind of fucked up right now kid. Maybe you could get off me before I start bawling in pain like a little girl?”

  She virtually flew back then, wide eyed, “oops. Sorry. Forgot about that. You should get some kind of healing power or something you know? Anyway, thanks! I owe you so much. Do you want me to blow you or something? I will. Here...” She moved on him fast, and caught a face full of paralysis for her trouble, before she managed to get his pants off. Barely. She had her hands on his sweats trying to tug them down already. Impulse. She was happy, and it was with him suddenly, so she'd turned it toward sex in her head. Gah.

  Darn his good looks anyway.

  “No you stupid little twit! Now I'm letting you up, but if you go for me again I'm getting Rachel to spank you! I'll paralyze you so she can do it right too. No more guys for you until you're legal and even then, not me. Try that again and I'll make you think you're going to vomit for fifteen minutes. I don't mess around with that either, it isn't just “oh, I feel a little sick” I mean you'll be rolling on the ground in pain the whole time, horrible cramping and wishing you could just die.” Denis looked at the others, kind of expecting them to get after him for calling her stupid, but no one did. Sighing he let her up.