The Infected [Books 1-6]

by P. S. Power

  Her friend.

  That was the hardest part of the whole thing. She couldn't stand him. It sounded wrong, even to her, when she thought it. What she really couldn't stand was that he saw her. It wasn't him personally, or anything. No, Brian Yi was a great guy, and even cute enough in the right light. He was loyal, honest, brave and very attentive. That part was it, the problem with him. She was always there for him, like a regular person, fully visible and easily heard. That made her feel scared and powerless. He didn't get that at all, even though it had to be clear if he thought about it. Worse, she couldn't just tell him about it either, because, being him, he'd go away from her then. Sacrifice his own desire to have her as a friend in order to leave her feeling more comfortable. That was even worse. She didn't like being noticed on that level, but he was the only person that actually knew her at all. In a way she kind of loved him for it, and hated him at the same time.

  Penny had to wait for the bus to stop in order to get to the central meeting location. The rally point Lancaster had shown her. It would take time, but no one would see her that way. A car picking her up would attract attention. A murder had just happened not too far from there after all. An anti-Infected hate group leader had lost his head.

  It wasn't great fun for her, since she ended up pressed between a man that was half drunk at four in the afternoon, and the arm of a very heavy woman in a floral dress that needed someone to remind her that hygiene was important. Penny showered each day herself, sometimes several times. Mostly alone, as it worked out. Other people couldn't smell her, but she could, and that was a good enough reason.

  In the main she tried not to be too judgmental of people, because honestly, she saw it all. They picked their noses right in front of her, scratched their behinds and ate things that had fallen on the floor. About a third of all the women on the base did things with their female friends that would be considered sex if it was on the internet, and most didn't think anything of it. They literally didn't consider it as being more than "cuddly". The guys did themselves constantly too. Some of them three or more times per day. It wasn't everyone, but as strange as it seemed, the people that did that stuff tended to be nicer than the ones that didn't. Like they were better people for it.

  Maybe they were just happier?

  They all had to shift around, since people were getting on and off the bus, so the drunk guy ended up standing with the back of his hand pressed against her right thigh, but didn't notice it at all. She nearly turned into him, to use his hand to get off, but didn't, since more than anything, she was a professional. Plus, he wasn't that good looking. It wasn't even that he was exotically ugly, he was just plain. Boring.

  When she managed to reach the right spot, she still had to walk, the black case in her right hand, the grip getting a little sweaty even though it wasn't all that heavy. The vehicle they'd gotten wasn't special at all, not on the outside. It looked like a decently fit man was just sitting there eating a sandwich, a large thing that had flashes of lettuce that showed through the window. Subway.

  He better have gotten her one too, she thought, or she was going to give him such a wedgie.

  The man in the driver's seat was Lancaster, her IPB Agent. She had to share him with most of Team Three, but for that day and the next, while they traveled, he was all hers. It was nearly perfect, except for the fact that they needed some wine... and for him to realize she was there. Maybe for him to take the stick out of his butt, and actually flirt with her or something so that it didn't feel so much like she was raping him in his sleep later. Not that she'd actually do that, since she really liked him. Not true love or anything, but she certainly wanted him to know they were doing it, when they did.

  "I'm in." The first words were cool sounding, professional and like she lived in a spy novel. Hell, she did live in one. She made James Bond seem like a poser that couldn't find his behind with both hands. If she could have managed that tone all the time it would have been better though. "Um, is there any food left?" It came out sounding weak and like she was begging. She didn't need him for food, she could collect her own. Not something neatly prepared to order maybe, but convenience stores were there for a reason. Her shoplifting pleasure.

  Lancaster started the car as she rested the weapons case across her lap. It made a handy table, and if they were stopped by the police the thing would be invisible to them. Unless they had one of the new personally mounted camera set ups. In that case she'd probably need to kill them and make certain the footage never got out. No one had told her that, but it was kind of part of the job, wasn't it? If they'd wanted to risk being found out, they would have sent someone else.

  The tall and very handsome man next to her looked over his shoulder, "seat belt on Penny. I can't even do first aid on you if we crash, so don't take chances. I got you two foot long sweet and sour chicken sandwiches. No olives."

  She actually did put her belt on then, even if it didn't seem cool and like something a movie hero would do. Or villain. She wasn't really certain she was a good guy. Not that day. Maybe not even most. She grabbed the paper bag from the floor and tore into it, starving. She was pretty much always hungry. No one ever thought about it, but being unseen all the time burned a massive amount of calories. She worked out too, mainly because she had no reason not to, but just living kept her trim and light. On the good side it meant she could eat like a pig and not get fat. On the bad, it meant she had to eat like that, or she'd be in pretty serious danger of starving in short order. No more than a few weeks, tops.

  After politely finishing the food in her mouth, she spoke, her voice sounding like she expected to be yelled at.

  "So, uh, I killed him. The target. Ivan Madison. One shot, one kill and erm... You know what I mean." She winced, but Darryl Lancaster focused on the road and not her, hearing everything she said a few seconds after she finished talking. It took a little bit of effort to make it work, but it really was handier than having Mark leave notes for her on her dresser at random intervals. They still did that, but less frequently now. That wasn't because he didn't like her though, just that he was busy, with his television show. It was a cooking thing for the Food Network, which was awesome, since it was the only thing on television that showed the Infected as actual people most of the time.

  Silly, sometimes kind of insane, people. Real ones though, that ate food and laughed at jokes. Ones that did more than slaughter people on the evening news, or eat your kids.

  Lancaster always drove as if he expected an ambush, or ticket trap, so kept the car at exactly the speed limit and stopped at every yellow light and stop sign, in a way that would have gotten him a perfect score on a driving test. It made sense, because nerves and bad habits might make their presence known if a person wasn't careful. That the IPB, the Infected Protection Bureau, which was made up of a lot of Infected people, might just want Ivan M. dead wasn't a huge stretch. He'd been behind at least five murders of low powered Infected over the last two years. They even had a Death Warrant on him, so it had been a legal kill. That part wasn't the problem. It was the backlash against them if his people found out for certain who'd killed him that was the real issue. They'd go crazy and kill a lot of people because of it, most likely. Feeling justified in it no doubt.

  Maybe they'd even have a case, if they went up against her because of it. She'd done the job after all. They wouldn't do that though. No, they'd take out some guy with an attitude problem and say he was Infected, when he might just be having a bad day. That or slaughter a glowing baby. Any target that wouldn't be a real threat to them, as if a person with a gun wasn't just as powerful as the vast majority of Infected?

  The big man spoke, barely moving his mouth as he did it, so that he wouldn't look like he was carrying on a conversation.

  "Any problems?"

  "My feet hurt, but other than that no." For once it didn't come out sounding too meek, but he didn't notice it at all. Instead he just kept driving.

  "We have another job. Do you feel up to it? Ba
sically liberating some files from a staffer's home before he has a chance to shred them. We have to move pretty fast on it and they may already be gone. If so, try to get the trash. We're going in cold though, so I can't tell you much. I have the address, but that's all. He's a Republican, so he might be a gun nut." There was silence then.

  He wasn't judging the man, Penny knew that. She wouldn't either. She carried guns too and killed with them. It was only fair that this guy have the same chance. The Agent next to her just meant that the man might start shooting if he got spooked. It wasn't a real threat, unless he just sat around blasting things at random or something equally stupid.

  "Is it, um, too far out of the way?" It would get cold at night, and running around naked might be great for the mission, but it wasn't wonderful if it started to rain. Not that she mentioned her reasoning. That was something she'd noticed a while back. Her power was such that even the people she was talking to could lose track of her if they didn't constantly try to remember what they were doing. Lancaster was good that way, compared to most, but he wouldn't remember what she was, or wasn't, wearing at the moment.

  That was a shame, since if he did, maybe he'd flirt with her a little. She couldn't do it back, but it was still nice to know she was appreciated.

  "Two hours there, then five to the airport. We get the jet on the return. Christian has a socialite friend that's actually bothering to visit with her. That will be a treat no doubt. Some famous woman, used to be on television or something. I think she's angling for a cameo on Mark's program. Probably a good idea. There are some others too. I didn't get more than that." No name came with it, but then Lancaster didn't watch anything for entertainment. He pretty much just worked.

  It made this part of the road trip boring. She turned the radio on, which was already listening to the news. That did make sense, and there was useful coverage already, telling them about Ivan and his crew of her-hating sickos. The survivors were already blaming the Infected, and wouldn't listen to anyone asking why people with powers would be using firearms. There was a good reason for it which they announced instantly, which was to cast doubt on the whole thing. It made sense to her. It was why she'd done it like she had, after all.

  "We should plant something to make it look like a rival hate gang did it. Maybe fake up a bank account or two and leak that to the press. America the Clean seems likely for that." She was speaking out loud, but it had been meant for her alone. It sounded real to her, not like the retiring snowflake princess she normally did. Relaxed and confident.

  Without acknowledging her Lancaster got on one of the special cell phones. They were all encrypted, and supposedly no one could break the code used. Not yet. In a year or two it would happen, but until then, barring some super-Infected power, they were safe.

  "Turner? Good. Cooper just had an idea. We should see about setting up some dummy accounts and finger one of the other groups. She suggested America the Clean. Yeah, that's right, the one with the super-model that fronts for them. It wouldn't hurt my feelings if she caught some of the fallout from it, but use your best discretion." Then he just hung up, not even saying bye.

  Penny let herself just talk again, not bothering to let her first mode control her. Two whole sentences in a row, it was nearly a record. It was almost as if she could control her fear, if she were laid back enough.

  "Do we have anything on the staffer at all? Who does he work for? Is he cute? Gay? Wife and kids?" It all made a difference, since the more people that lived in the home, the more likely the guy would have cameras. Unless it was just him and an embarrassing lover. Then it worked in her favor, since people instinctually hid that kind of thing. All she could hope for was a homosexual furry.

  The hot agent straightened his driving glasses and didn't so much as turn his head toward her.

  "Nothing much. His last name, Jackson, his first initial, which is H. The fact that he's a male, white and Republican. Works for Senator Hooper, or did. He went into the old office, claiming he needed some personal supplies and walked out with about half a suitcase full of documents. What's in them we don't know. If it's about how he stole government funds, then it really doesn't matter. If it's Hooper related, well, that's why they're sending the big dogs, isn't it?" He stopped at an empty crosswalk and waited for the light to change, it took a long time, but he just sat peacefully, looking ready to pick up his kid from a soccer practice. When they moved his mouth did again too, still trying to act like he wasn't talking at all. "That and the fact that we're close at the right time. We can't underestimate that portion of things. This shouldn't be a hard operation for you at all. Normally we wouldn't even send an Operative for it."

  The rest of the trip was waiting for her then. They did stop for food once, which she got all of, because Lancaster was her secret honey, even if he didn't know it. She'd have to tell him that sometime. Maybe when he didn't have an earpiece in, so that she could actually sound like a real person and everything when she spoke? It was a hell of a way to carry on a relationship, but beat the alternative. That was, being herself.

  The cheeseburgers weren't great, and the fries were soggy, but she didn't complain. They were working, and in this part of the country they hated good food. That was seen in almost every restaurant they went to. It was the south though, so they noticed anything strange, which meant fast food or store bought as a rule. Nothing where she could go in and get something with a bit of variety.

  The house they pulled up to was a nice one for the area, big, meaning it had two stories, and probably a basement. Really that just meant more for her to search, all the while not having a clue what to look for, other than that it had once been in a "file". It could be anything.

  Lancaster didn't park close either, once she saw the place and knew how to get back to it.

  "Twenty minutes. Don't take longer than that. If you aren't back in an hour I'll come in, but try to avoid that, since we don't need the exposure."

  "Got it. I'm taking a nine millimeter from the trunk, loaded with one magazine." She could shoot people without the explosions being noticed very well, especially close by. In the same room no one but her noticed it. Five rooms over it would be a solid pop, like a champagne cork coming loose. A quarter mile away it sounded normal again. It was mainly messing with people's minds though, not the actual sound. Audio recordings picked it up perfectly.

  After arming herself, carrying it in her hand, since she didn't have a holster for it at the moment, which was why she only had one magazine too, Penny walked calmly up to the place. It seemed empty at first. She didn't even have to search for the right documents, since the dead man on the floor hadn't bothered to shred them at all yet. He had his throat torn out instead, which made a bloody mess. Clearly claws were involved. That or blades meant to make it seem that way. The briefcase however hadn't been investigated at all, even though it was open.

  She wasn't a forensic accountant, or even a high school graduate, but she could tell enough about what was in the files to know they spoke of large payoffs from Bahrain. That wasn't a place that legal donors came from normally, was it? She took the whole case, since the man wasn't going to need it anymore. Then she looked for something flammable. If the body could be burnt enough, it might hide the fact that it really looked like an Infected person had done it. It was possible that it had been, but she figured a black ops team had done it, to frame the man for having the papers, or someone else. Like her, for killing him.

  The Infected at least. There was no proof of that though, just a hunch based on the fact that some people really hated her kind. She headed to the basement looking for some gas or paint thinner, since a good fire washed away a lot of sins. Instead, after hitting the light and walking down the stairs she saw the woman. She was pretty, in a forty odd year old, overly made up way. She had large scratches on her face and arms, which detracted from the look a bit, and screamed after a few seconds when her eyes opened.

  "Don't... Please don't hurt me. Us... We... God no... Please!
"

  There was more than one of them, and the mother making noise got the two girls to start crying. It was annoying, though probably fair. They all looked like they'd been mauled by a bear. One that wanted them to survive the attack. Probably so they could be witnesses. After all, if it was just out of pity or morals, then they wouldn't have been attacked in the first place.

  Penny just left them and took the case. She wasn't burning them alive, and while executing them would cover up the whole thing, she hadn't signed on for that. Instead she just tried to ignore the sound and made certain she had everything she needed, then left, walking more quickly than she had to. She did check the whole house first, but there wasn't anyone there. At least those kids should be safe enough.

  Back in the car she just sat for a few seconds, not saying anything, knowing that Lancaster wouldn't get that she was there.

  "A man is dead in there. Throat torn out, with claws, I think. A woman and two girls, they looked like they'd been hit too, but are alive. Walking around. I have the briefcase, with the right documents, I think. I was going to light it up, but I found them in the basement." Her voice sounded cold and a bit like she didn't care, even though she really did. She was cool and competent, not a heartless psycho bitch. "I checked the whole place, but didn't find anyone, so we're not leaving them with a killer in there."

  The car started and they were driving away, slowly and with perfect control, into the night. Lancaster made a phone call again and reported the situation before he said anything to her. When he spoke he asked her to go over everything again. Very carefully. Several times.