The Infected [Books 1-6]

by P. S. Power

  “Charles... I'm pretty sure you've been around me long enough to know I won't bother making things like that up. I could be wrong, yeah, anyone could be in a case like this, but I'm not going to report something like this and not give everything I think is fact as well as I can. So... what's really up? You're clearly pissed at me about something... Let me know what it is so I at least have a clue why you're kicking my ass if it comes to it...”

  Charles jaw worked and he bulled his way forward, hands clenched in fists by his side, jaw working making his reddish mustache twitch a little. He was bigger than Brian, most of it bulky padding. Brian knew better than to think something like that meant fat in an Infected. It could be a different form of muscle, armor that rested beneath the skin or whatever it was that gave him electrical abilities. It could even be all three at once. That would be rare, even around here, but he couldn't count it out. Whatever he was thinking, the man really seemed to want a weapon in his hand, at least he reached over to where a police officer would have his side arm and found he didn't have it twice before keeping his hand in a fist.

  “Fine! You sure you want to do this in front of all these people?”

  Brian shrugged. If the guy was going to kill him, or try to beat him up, the medical center seemed like a fine place for it. “Sure...”

  “All right. I've gotten word that someone's been fucking Bridget Chambers. She's underage. Now you're planning some party for her, making a point of it before reporting something this big? That sounds like more than passing acquaintanceship to me. So, are you fucking her? Think you're above the law just because you're everyone's favorite little superhero flavor of the week? Get away with escaping from the police, and now you don't answer to anyone?”

  Brian felt shocked, then nearly laughed in the man's face. He held up a finger and ducked his head, trying not to insult the guy, who was only trying to protect Bridget after all. That was a good thing, and part of the guy's job.

  “First, no. Not sleeping with Bridget. Um, Christian? You're a telepath, so you'd know if I was lying right?” They all looked over at the blond who nodded her head.

  “He hasn't been. Brian has never even had an improper thought about the girl, which is a little amazing considering some of the things she's done trying to get his attention. He views the girl as a friend, and someone to protect. As to the party, that's innocent enough. He promised it to her. Now he's trying to make sure he keeps his word and that she doesn't get lost in all this... It's linked to his first mode, sacrificing his own comfort for hers...” Hands waving she indicated everyone in the room, meaning the whole situation. Brian took it that way at least.

  Brian turned back to Charles and waited for the man to look at him, clearly a bit embarrassed now that his accusation had been proved wrong so easily. Handy having a telepath around.

  “As to the other things... I didn't escape from the police, I escaped from people trying to kill me without a trial or hearing, for having had the audacity to shoot a terrorist attacking a government facility with a rocket launcher. But even if they were the police, given what I've been through so far, I'd try to escape even if I knew I was guilty of something. I definitely won't let them take me for any reason and doubt I'd survive if I did.”

  Charles took a deep angry breath. Making Brian nod.

  “Right, you were one of them. So you know... You more than anyone else here knows that what I've been through isn't unheard of, or all lies, that's just what the police like to tell people so they can get away with things. You probably know of a lot more than what happened to me and probably helped keep it secret and kept the people that did it safe from the very law you claimed to serve.”

  Charles poked a finger into Brian's chest angrily. “Lies!” He blustered.

  Behind them Christian cleared her throat.

  “Charles... I don't want to cause problems, but... it's not a lie. He's not even wrong. You know that the police aren't perfect and that the system fosters brutality in their ranks and protects them from the fallout that the rest of us would face. It angers you to have it pointed out, but you know that Brian wasn't in the wrong and would be dead had he stayed in custody more than a day...”

  The angry man seemed to calm a little then and half heartedly pushed the palm of his hand against Brian's chest, not even half as hard as he'd poked his finger moments before. Brian took the hand, twisted it outward twisting the palm into a wrist lock suddenly, then pulled the man to him hitting with the edge of his hand against the side of the other mans neck three times, performed a simple leg throw and cracked the mustached head against the hard cold floor in a single swift movement, forcing the head against the solid surface. The Team Two leader was out cold, his legs trembling a little.

  “Ah!” Brian jumped back, hands out. “I, uh, didn't mean to do that!”

  Everyone else stood in shock for a second, except for Marcia, who chuckled and called for a doctor. Burrows ran in and looked at the situation, shocked. Marcia gave a blow by blow and they all helped move Charles down the hall to one of the emergency exam tables. Brian walked along behind them, everyone giving him leery glances, except again, Marcia.

  The Director started to chew him out for inappropriate behavior, but Marcia got between them and pushed the older man firmly, sending him stumbling back a few feet.

  “Miss Turner!” He said sounding a bit upset by the move. Robert had his hand raised, like he did when he used his power, but didn't seem to know if he should use it on Brian or Beatdown, so he hesitated.

  “Sorry Moore, but think for a second before you get too mad. Brian just spent six days in a hypothermic state, low level, but enough to eventually cause hallucinations. During that time he fought sixty-two beings that were at least class four threats. Alone. No sleep, no food. His only company a voice in his head that may or may not be the ghost of a girl not known for her lightness and love attitude. He gets accused by an angry man of something he didn't do, clears his name honestly, only to have the same man try to lie about things that he's done and known about, not a half minute later, that just happens to be one of Brian's hot button issues. Also remember that more than once when Brian's been injured, in this very facility, he woke up being confronted by police. True, it wasn't always bad, but does his subconscious mind really believe that? We're really lucky he stopped without killing Charles. Or the rest of us for that matter.”

  Stepping back with a slow bow, a nod of the head really, the Director acknowledge all that. “Still Brian, I expect better control from you in the future, understood? Now, if you would apologize to Charles we can get back to the real work at hand.

  Charles had woken up enough to sit on his own. Having heard everything Marcia had said he nodded, then winced, holding his head. “Fuck Brian... What the hell was I thinking?”

  Swallowing and taking a huge breath Brian looked at the man. “You were thinking that someone might be sleeping with an underage girl on your team and it might be me? You weren't in the wrong to try and find out, even given everything else. For the rest of it... I honestly don't know. I swear I hadn't even thought anything particularly violent toward you, my body just moved... I'm so sorry! I don't know why that happened...”

  A soft snort came from the white clad woman, her brown hair back in a ponytail. “I do. You reacted to a potential threat instantly, like you're being trained to. It's what you have to be to survive now. If it's any comfort Charles, he did stop after the first second or so, once he realized it was you. I kind of thought he'd go off on the finger poke myself... We'll have to work on that Brian. You're too weak physically to wait for an aggressor to make the first move, much less do it twice.” She walked over and gently put her right arm around his shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze.

  From there everyone moved to make preparations, try and get information from the Canadian authorities and do a half dozen other arcane things that Brian didn't really understand. He knew that some of them potentially involved the press and him, but they promised he'd get to s
leep first. And sent him back to his room, since his temperature had stabilized well enough. While he could still manage to think he pulled Christian aside, since she might know about jewelry and stuff. The woman always wore some at least. They moved to her office, Brian sitting in a chair that felt wonderfully comfortable to him, even if it was just a normal chair like the ones from the common room.

  “It's something Dharma mentioned, Becky I mean. If she wasn't making it up, that Bridget had always wanted jewelry. I don't get it, but if that's what she likes and if, you know, I can afford it... I don't know what kind of money I really have in my account at all... In light of everything, maybe if it came from the whole team? I mean...”

  “Not a problem, I understand your dilemma in this right now, after Charles made those accusations... Really, as a team leader he should have come to me first, rather than confront you like that. We're going to have a discussion about that, he and I. Later though. What did you have in mind?”

  He had to say it out loud, because it was Becky's idea and he didn't really know what the words meant, if they weren't nonsense, Christian shook her head disagreeing instantly.

  “Emeralds, not rubies. She has enough red in her aspect. I'll get something and have the funds taken from your account? Oh, wait. I can check the balance.” Her eyes gleamed. “Team leader. I have full access to your account. No one's ever bothered to mention why, but all of us team leaders do for all our people, without exception.”

  Tapping on the white keyboard on her desk she turned the screen so he could see it. He had to count the zeros three times to make sure it was what he thought. It had added up to a bit more than Dharma had suggested. Maybe he should give it to charity or something?

  The blond straightened her necklace. “You can afford it. By the way my birthday is in January, I prefer pearls and silver, nothing too clunky...” Her smile let him know she was playing.

  From there he decided to go and get some food, finally. He knew he didn't have everything taken care of yet, but he'd stopped running on fumes days ago, tapped out on will power three times over and knew that if he didn't eat soon, he was just going to collapse. The dining facility was locked, which shocked him, until he realized he'd never been there except at meal time, except that one time he'd escaped. Maybe this was normal? Maybe it was because of his raid on the place before? If so... Oops?

  If he went anywhere else for food, he'd need clothes, so headed to his room at a slow but steady trudge. It wasn't the way he'd left it, clean, but someone came each day and straightened it for him, probably checking the place for weapons too, even though they'd all been left this time, in his closet. He strapped the carbon-nano tube knife onto his leg, and put on his second best pair of black fatigues, plus a new pair of running shoes, since he had three more pairs ready to go, just in case, and put a nine millimeter in the back of his pants, in a holster designed to keep him from shooting himself in the butt. That's what Jason had told him at least and so far the man had been right about everything weapons related.

  Maybe he could get something at the store on four? He didn't know for certain if they had food. He thought they must, if the dining halls closed, since some of the people here ate a lot more than two or three meals a day. When the elevator opened he realized he'd gone to one instead, after the door opened. He looked around for a moment and stepped out. Why had he come here? Well, maybe their dining facility would have something or at least be able to direct him to food... Karen had said they were open twenty-four hours a day, hadn't she?

  Walking in the hostess smiled and took him to a small two person table when Brian said he was alone. She sat him quickly and asked if he wanted anything to drink or needed anything else they could provide.

  “Um, yeah, well... I haven't eaten in six days and I'm probably going to crash hard pretty soon... You know how that goes right? You get busy and just forget to eat? If the chef has anything ready, I mean anything, bread, a half stick of unsalted butter... anything... That would be great?” He smiled, which must have looked different than Brian thought it would, because she turned and literally ran to the back room, coming back out with her arms loaded with food plates.

  “Here... if you need anything else, just let me know, all right?” Less than a minute later she came back with a glass of water and another with something dark and bubbly in it, soda?

  Taking an experimental sip he discovered it wasn't coke or anything he recognized, but something smooth and sweet, a bit like vanilla and cherries. It was good, so he took another sip, then started eating the food in front of him, one dish had fish, another steak, the last thin slices of roast chicken breast and a lot of vegetables. When he got through half the main courses two men walked over trailing behind Karen.

  “Brian!” She scurried over when she saw him and gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “My god, what happened, we've all been worried sick about you!” Leaning in she kissed him again, this time more warmly, causing the men behind her to smile.

  Not knowing who they were Brian tried to short hand the whole thing.

  “Um... I went for a swim in Canada, and had to, um, have a discussion with some class fours?” He didn't know if she'd get it, but her eyes went wide. Behind her, the stately looking man, about sixty, but still fit and strong looking, who stood on her left raised his head a little and went still.

  “I see...” He said quietly. “And how did this “discussion” go?” Well, I take it, since you've returned to us?”

  Brian took a bite not wanting to be rude, but starving again now that he had food in his system. He chewed carefully and swallowed before answering.

  “The immediate situation seems to have calmed down, but we don't know if something else might take place, requiring further... negotiation. I'm sorry about all the hedging here... I... well, this is possibly sensitive stuff and I don't know what I can say to who here... My fault for not keeping up with things I'm sure, I hope you can understand?”

  The dark man on the right bowed, his clothing looked expensive, as nice as anything Brian had ever seen on anyone. He carried a few extra pounds and had black curly hair, graying at the temples and a thick accent when he spoke.

  “I'm William Washington, ambassador from Liberia, a small country in Africa.” The smile was large and toothy, but seemed genuine.

  Brian nodded, “By Sierra Leon, Guinea and the Ivory coast. Declared independence on July twenty-sixth, eighteen forty-seven, first President Joseph Jacob Roberts...” Brian put down his fork and held his head for a second. “Sorry, you don't need me to recite grammar school history lessons about your own country... I haven't slept or eaten, before this, for six days... I'm not always an insufferable know it all... honest!”

  The other man laughed and clapped the ambassador on the shoulder.

  “And here William thought he'd have to educate everyone in the country about his home.” He looked at Brian for a few seconds. “Oh! Sorry, I'm Tom Roberts, one of those pesky senators that pops in for lunch every now and then. Our food seems to be taking a while to get to the table so we thought we'd come and visit...”

  Brian looked down at the plates in front of him and took a bite of the chicken strips, they were moist and tasty, he swallowed and looked at the men.

  “I think I stole it... I came in and told the hostess, you know, about everything, and she came out with food... I'm sorry I didn't...” Brian felt bad and embarrassed but the Ambassador just laughed, waving his right hand a little.

  “Don't be silly. Eat! None of us is so big of head that we can't see to the needs of someone truly hungry before our own.”

  Brian liked this guy, he realized. He seemed nice and put up with the hardships Brian made for him like a pro. Probably why he was an ambassador to begin with.

  A few moments later he woke up to find Karen shaking him gently, holding his shoulder.

  “Brian?” She sounded really concerned.

  “Oh,” yawning hugely he threw a hand over his mouth a second too late. “Sorry, I
don't think I can stay awake much longer. I just needed food before I crashed...”

  Apparently he'd fallen asleep again, since he woke up with his face in a plate of mashed potatoes. They had garlic mixed in and little flecks of green too. He'd never realized how comfortable a plate of food could be before. Karen set him upright and mopped off his face with a napkin. He heard talking, but it sounded too far away to understand, so he didn't bother. After a few minutes he found himself moving and made himself walk where Karen told him.

  That he was used to, from running each day. Run, stop, walk, go the other way. Even if he felt tired he knew to trust her. At least when it came to walking. Nice as she was, he knew he'd still have a problem with her if a fight were breaking out, half expecting her to hit him with her powers.

  Then he fell on something soft and warm, people helping him get under some covers he tried to murmur thank you before everything went away.

  He roused a little later, in the dark. Feeling safe and warm and almost went back to sleep when he heard something, a slide of fabric on skin. He froze, then slowly reached for the gun in the small of his back. It wasn't there. The knife was gone too. He nearly panicked, then relaxed and took a deep breath, ready to fight.

  “Brian? Are you awake?” The voice was soft... feminine. Karen.

  “Uh, a bit. Sorry. Where are we?”

  “My room. You fell asleep at the restaurant and we didn't think you'd make it all the way back to your own, so we brought you here. I just have to change... is that all right? I don't want to bother you...” Concern colored her voice.

  He rolled over, assured that all was well and went back to sleep.

  Chapter eleven

  Brian woke with a start, sitting up, bolting out of the bed carrying the covers with him. He rolled on the floor, hit a wall and kicked his feet free, hands rising in front of him ready to fight, or defend against, at least, whatever had touched him in his sleep. Blinking his eyes he looked over at the unfamiliar space, a white sheet draped over Karen who turned to look at him in the dim light.