Infected: Die Like Supernovas (The Outlaw Book 2)

by Alan Janney

  Sweet oxygen. My lungs began to re-inflate. I didn’t dare move though. I’d never open my eyes again. The pain had been awful. I found a shirt with my hand and pulled it under my head blindly, and then I collapsed into sleep with the television on, unsure if I’d wake up.

  Chapter Five

  Friday, January 4. 2018

  “It’s gotta be PuckDaddy,” Lee said, sliding into the adjacent chair. My first class, Pre-Calc, hadn’t started yet, which was good because I hadn’t fully woken up; I’d spent the previous night tossing and turning and groaning on my floor. Lee is a math whiz and had already taken all the math classes our school offered, and so he helped tutor students like me for additional credits. He was wearing an Outlaw shirt.

  “Lee,” I said blearily. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. So shut up.”

  “PuckDaddy, baby! You’ve heard of him, I know you have, bro. Everyone has.”

  “Go away. I hate you.”

  “Can’t believe you don’t know who PuckDaddy is, dude,” Lee shook his head.

  “What about PuckDaddy?” Samantha Gear asked. She dropped into the chair next to me, opposite Lee. I’d forgotten she was in this class. I’d probably be seeing more of her, considering that Coach Garrett had unofficially dubbed her our new kicker.

  “Who are you?” Lee asked suspiciously.

  “I’m pretty. Do you really care what my name is, little man?”

  “No,” Lee admitted. “And I’m not little. Do you really know who PuckDaddy is?”

  She shrugged, “Of course. Well. I mean, I’m familiar with the moniker. I didn’t think many people were. Isn’t he a big secret?”

  “Pretty girls like you aren’t supposed to know about guys like PuckDaddy,” Lee stated, trying to digest this strange turn of events.

  “I’m full of surprises. Want to sit on my lap?”

  “………………….what?” Lee asked finally after working his mouth silently for a long time. Samantha had green eyes that she could turn on like tractor beams. Lee appeared helpless; his face was turning summersaults. “Yes?”

  “Come on over here, little man,” she coaxed, leaning back in her chair. “And whisper about PuckDaddy in my ear.”

  I said, “Both of you either shut up, or tell me what on earth you’re talking about.” This was like watching a dorky version of Beauty and the Beast.

  “PuckDaddy is one of the baddest dudes on the planet,” Lee started.

  “He’s a computer hacker,” Samantha interjected.

  “Hey. Hot new girl. I’m telling it. He’s not just a computer hacker. He’s a digital god, dude, a networking wizard. He’s been a myth in hackerdom for years, just lurking in the Deepnet. Dude makes most programmers look like crackers instead of hackers,” Lee gushed in adoration.

  “He might not even exist,” Samantha said. “Most think he’s a rumor.”

  Lee demanded, “Okay. Seriously. How do you know this stuff?” She just arched an eyebrow at him and smiled. “Anyways. After the Outlaw incident, hackerdom is buzzing, bro. Straight churning. He exists! PuckDaddy revealed himself by pulling off the biggest stunt the programming world has ever seen. Erasing all those videos is basically impossible. Has to be him.”

  “Are you a programmer?” Samantha asked him.

  “No way, baby,” he grinned and pointed at himself with his thumbs. “I’m applied sciences. An inventor.”

  “PuckDaddy is the one who erased the Outlaw videos,” I said, pulling on my lip. “Why would he do that?” I already had a guess. PuckDaddy worked with Carter! Carter said the Infected hated publicity and so PuckDaddy was cleaning up the evidence? It made sense. If this guy actually even existed.

  “Nobody knows,” Lee said.

  Samantha said again, “He might not even be real. He’s a legend.”

  “He exists,” Lee burst in excitement. “And he’s connected with the Outlaw! And the Outlaw is back, baby!”

  “Shhhhhhh!!!” We got shushed by several of our classmates, frantically doing homework before class started.

  “The Outlaw is gone,” I stated.

  “He is?” Samantha asked. “Are you sure? How do you know?”

  “He was kidnapped. He’s gone for good,” I said and I meant it. After last night’s debacle on my floor, I wanted nothing to do with the mask anymore. I just wanted to survive the next few months.

  “Nope,” Lee grinned. “He’s back! I told you.”

  “What about the kidnapping video?”

  “Natalie North tweeted last night, dude. She said the Outlaw is okay. She’s like the only person who would know. He probably just whipped their asses and then made out with Natalie.”

  “Ugh,” I groaned. “Natalie.” Natalie and her twitter account.

  “Ugh,” Katie groaned. “Why is it always Natalie North?”

  “Cause she’s super fly, dude,” Lee said and bit into his sandwich. Katie was staring at the television over our lunch table. The station was re-broadcasting the Outlaw news. Around us the cafeteria roared; kids letting off steam.

  “I know this,” she glared at Lee. “I met her. Remember? She visited me in the hospital. But why does the Outlaw only visit her? And never me?”

  “The Outlaw wasn’t visiting Natalie,” I said instinctively. But I couldn’t finish the sentence. I couldn’t tell her the Outlaw had been keeping an eye on her date with Tank. Stupid stupid Tank.

  “Yes he was,” Katie sighed. “And then some stupid computer nerd stole all the photos of him. The first good photos we’ve had in months.”

  “PuckDaddy,” Lee said with a seriously offended disposition, “is NOT a computer nerd.”

  “Yeah, don’t even talk like that,” Cory said sagely, chewing on homemade chicken salad. “Could be listening.”

  “PuckDaddy,” Katie considered. “His name is like a cross between Sean Combs and Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

  “What?” Lee said blankly.

  “Shakespeare,” she said, searching for signs of intelligence in our eyes. “You three are illiterate.”

  “Maybe the Outlaw will come visit you,” I told Katie. The idea was exciting!

  “No way, man,” Lee said. “He never leaves the city. He’s a city dweller. Besides, the Outlaw is probably tracking down the Sniper.”

  “What Sniper?” I asked.

  “Dude. You forget everything. The LA Sniper! Remember? Wax bullets?”

  I scoffed, “The Outlaw doesn’t care about the Sniper.”

  “Sure he does! The Sniper got three more last night!”

  “Three more what?” I asked.

  “Victims. Duh.”

  I laughed and said, “I’m sure the Outlaw has more important things going on than stopping a practical joker. This guy is just scaring people. The victims are all okay, right? Just bruised.”

  “You don’t know the Outlaw like I do!” Lee shouted. “Remember, bro. I met him! And trust me. He’s going to get the Sniper. And he doesn’t leave the city. He can’t visit Katie.”

  I rolled my eyes. “It’s not like he’s trapped there. He can go where ever he wants.”

  “Besides,” Cory reminded Katie. “You have Tank now.”

  Lee said, “Barf.”

  “I don’t have Tank,” Katie perked up, smiling. “But we are going out again. Soon.”

  Lee said, “Barf.”

  “Nooooooo,” I groaned. “Not again. One date was enough.”

  “Oh my boys,” she said, smile widening. “My jealous boys.”

  “Ugh. Just thinking about you dating him gives me a headache,” I said, rubbing my forehead.

  “Speaking of headaches,” Cory rumbled. “You need a ride home?”

  “Yes,” I sighed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do about a permanent ride yet.”

  My girlfriend ambushed me after school. She was waiting for me at the exit, bouncing on her toes with a million-kilowatt smile in place. Most of my fellow students slowed down just so they could look at her.

&n
bsp; “Hi quarterback!” she sang.

  “Hi Hannah,” I smiled back. “This is a nice surprise.”

  “That’s not the real surprise,” she said and she grabbed my hand. She pulled me out of the school doors and into the sunlight. “The real surprise is that my father is here!”

  “Oh,” I said, blinking into the sun. “That is…a… surprise.”

  “He’s in the parking lot. Come on!”

  Hannah’s father looked like money. He was wearing a gorgeous suit, had a thick head of gorgeous silver hair, and generally gave off Presidential vibes. I bet his stylish glasses cost more than my car. Or at least more than the insurance agent told me my car was worth after it blew up.

  “Good afternoon, Chase,” he said and politely accepted my handshake.

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Walker.”

  “Pleasure’s mine. I enjoyed watching you play football last season. You’re a credit to this fine high school. I helped build that field, you know.”

  “I…did not know,” I stammered. “Thank you?”

  “Don’t thank me yet,” he smiled benevolently. “Hannah tells me that you helped protect her from the Hispanics during the riot.”

  “The Hispanics? Oh, the protest, right.”

  “Call it what you like, son. This place was crawling with spics, and I am grateful that you took care of my only child.”

  “Well,” I shrugged. “I guess that’s what boyfriends do.” Spics??

  “Only good boyfriends,” Hannah said, still tightly holding my left hand. I could never predict when she’d pour on the affection and when she’d act distant. Were all girlfriends this complicated?

  “I helped pass that law, you understand,” Mr. Walker said. “I’m an advisor to the senator, and it’s about time someone notable, someone of prestige, took a stand on the influx of hispanics into our once great city. The Hispanics were rioting because of that law, because they’re afraid of justice.”

  “Oh yeah?” I said. I knew nothing about politics or laws. But I had a feeling I disagreed with him.

  “But I’ll discontinue this tangent before I begin to preach,” he smiled. “Hannah is giving me the warning look.”

  “Thank you, Daddy,” Hannah said.

  “The spics destroyed your car,” he said. “Hannah informed me, and then I read the report in the newspaper.”

  “That was a good car,” I nodded. “I will miss it.”

  “Well, let me see what I can do to help,” he said. “I’m a financial consultant to many of our nation’s finest automobile manufacturers, including Mission Motorcycles. You have heard of them?”

  “I don’t know much about any cars. Or motorcycles,” I admitted.

  “Well, it just so happens, they owed me a favor and agreed to give me a short-term loan on one of their new electric bikes,” he said. And it was then that I realized we were standing beside a gleaming black, silver, and orange motorcycle. I hadn’t noticed before because our school parking lot always looks like a luxury car showcase, and I’d grown numb to the opulence. A sleek black helmet hung from each handle. Mr. Walker placed his palm on the seat and said, “This bike is yours. Until you get a new car.”

  “Wow,” I breathed. A motorcycle!!

  “Isn’t it sexy?” Hannah smiled. “It looks like it’s from the future.”

  “It does,” I agreed. “I’m almost afraid to touch it, like it’ll fly off. But sir, there’s no way…”

  “Please don’t be so ungrateful as to refuse, son. That’s low class, and that’s not the Walkers. You are in elite company. Dating my daughter has advantages, as I’m sure she’s told you. You just keep performing on the football field.”

  “Oh…right,” I said.

  “I’m gratified I can help,” Mr. Walker said and shook my hand again. “I’m expecting big things from you. Don’t let me down. It’s electric, so you’ll need to charge it at night. Fill out the paperwork in the storage compartment and return them signed to Hannah tomorrow. If you wreck it, I’ll have you drowned off Long Beach. I wish I could stay, but I’m late for a meeting with the Board of Supervisors. Hannah, tell your mother I’ll be out late,” he said and got into the back seat of a black sedan that whisked him away.

  I texted Cory, I don’t need a ride home. I’m all good.

  We were flying! At least that’s what it felt like. The bike gave the impression of riding a strong blast of air. It was fully electric and very quiet, other than a high-pitched whine when I really started picking up speed. Hannah’s arms tightened around my torso when I opened up the throttle on the highway.

  I could still feel the wind on my skin that night when Tank texted me. Or, texted the Outlaw. I was scanning my Twitter feed, reading updates about two more high-velocity wax bullet shooting victims. The Sniper was getting more creative. Tonight he shot someone inside a restaurant through the front door, and he always hit them in the same place: the right shoulder. Every time, dozens of victims, either the front or the back of the right shoulder, pow! The Sniper’s streak was very impressive.

  One tweet caught my eye. NBC News tweeted that their military consultant confirmed these strikes were obviously the work of a professionally trained military shooter.

  Trained shooter…

  Whoa! Of course! How had this not occurred to me before? Carter told me the Infected Shooter’s plane landed a few weeks ago, right before these shootings started. I’d been so dense, not putting the clues together. The LA Sniper was the Infected Shooter! Like Carter, he probably hung out on rooftops. He’d spot a victim, shoot them, and then disappear. The Infected weren’t supposed to draw attention to themselves; how was the Shooter allowed to do this and I couldn’t even wear a mask? He must be bored or something, playing these pranks, just wasting time until…

  Until it was time to kill me.

  The back of my neck turned icy. The professionally trained sniper NBC News had referred to was here for me. Maybe I should start wearing armor. That’s when Tank texted the Outlaw.

  >>…Got another big date coming up, pajamas. And she’s going to pay for your sins. I’m going to seduce her, confuse her, use her, and abuse her. All for you.

  I saw red. I trembled with rage. I couldn’t make my hands work. Deep inside my skull another headache rumbled.

  >>…And then? And then I’m coming for you.

  >>…I haven’t decided if I’m going to drown you, cut you into pieces, beat you to death, or blow a hole through you with a shotgun while I make my date watch.

  Great. Now two people are going to shoot me. That settles it.

  I texted Lee. But I didn’t text him from Chase Jackson’s phone. I texted him from the Outlaw’s phone, like I had once before.

  Kid. I need help. I need a bullet-proof vest. Can you get me one?

  The reply was instantaneous.

  >>YES!!!! THE OUTLAW IS BACK BABY!!! I can get you a ballistic vest, no problem!!

  I grinned, picturing Lee’s face tomorrow at school. I decided to have some fun. But you can’t tell anyone. Total secret.

  >>YEAH YEAH SURE!! How soon do you need the vest? And what will it be used for?

  I need the vest ASAP. I’m going after the LA Sniper.

  >>I KNEW IT!!! WOOOOOOOOOHAAAAAA!!!

  That might give me some protection from the Shooter and Tank. But it wouldn’t protect Katie.

  Maybe it’s time she met the Outlaw.

  Chapter Six

  Saturday night, January 7. 2018

  In the past few months, I’d jumped off a five-story building, been shot at, played in a championship football game, been kidnapped, chased by a pit bull, and participated in several fistfights, including battling a maniac on top of a building while helicopters fired warning shots at us.

  But I had never been more scared than I was now, standing outside Katie’s door. She lived on the bottom floor of an apartment complex, and the rear sliding glass door opened directly into her bedroom. I could see movement through her curtains. The California January nigh
t was cool and quiet but I was on fire, pulse racing. I’d spent a significant portion of the last few years in her bedroom, talking, watching TV, doing homework, playing on our phones, laughing, secretly adoring her. She was perfect.

  I took a deep breath and put on my disguise: the ski mask, and the bandana tied Rambo style. I didn’t know what else to do. Katie didn’t know Tank was her kidnapper. Katie didn’t know her date was planning on hurting her, both emotionally and physically. And I couldn’t tell her. Even if I could, she wouldn’t believe me.

  I was in love with her. I couldn’t just watch her get hurt.

  I’d debated calling her from the Outlaw’s phone, but that number was getting passed around too much. Natalie, Tank and Lee all had it; that was more than enough.

  Before I could chicken out, I unscrewed the light bulb in the outdoor sconce and knocked on her door.

  “Here we go,” I sucked in. A flurry of movement, the filmy curtain pushed aside, and a beautiful smiling face appeared. I loved that face. She screwed up her eyes, peering through the glass as her hand futilely worked the light switch. Then…recognition. She gasped. I held a finger to my mask to silently shush her. She nodded her head, said, “Okay okay okay, oh gosh, okay okay, oh my gosh,” and then the curtain fell back into place. I couldn’t hear her but I could read her lips.

  “This is a terrible idea. This is stupid. But…kind of awesome,” I said to myself. Chill bumps covered my whole body. I couldn’t wait until she came outside. I winced against the pounding in my head.

  She came back, brown eyes still wide, and held up her hand. “Give me two minutes,” she said, and then vanished. Back again in five seconds, “Okay? Is that okay?” I nodded. Her voice was almost entirely muted by the glass. “Oh my gosh, okay!”

  When she finally did come out, my breath caught. I’d never seen this outfit before. She wore a cute little white tank top that…wow. She better NOT wear that shirt for Tank. Her hair had been brushed and she smelled intoxicating. Time itself stopped and held us frozen. I wasn’t sure I could move.