by P. S. Power
They all seemed happy enough to help.
That set things in motion for the day and he mainly talked to people in Canada, including telephone interviews with some Canadian radio shows. He told them all basically the same thing: stay tuned to the news and keep track of where the creatures were, remember that a family car could outrun them - the magic number being about thirty miles, which was about forty-nine kilometers, per hour and if it came down to it, drown them or stab them in the mouth. It was easier to do if you got them to yell.
On one of the shows the host opened up the phone lines for callers and an older sounding woman asked how she was supposed to fight something like that? She didn't even own a gun after all.
Brian felt his voice go flat. "You do the best you can. Look, I won't lie to you, if you have to fight some of these creatures, there's a good chance you'll just die... and that's scary. But each one you take out, each one you don't let go without at least trying, that might be the one that makes a difference. Don't let yourself get so scared that you forget that you can do it. If you're willing to pay for it, very few things on this planet can take you without at least some cost. Regular people aren't helpless, so don't let anyone make you feel that way." For some reason no one else called in after that. Brian just hoped he hadn't just freaked out the entire country of Canada.
Rachel came and they hashed out some plans, mainly ones that Charlot had come up with, but didn't know if they'd fly right now. Brian didn't have to say much, the director apparently deciding to take his "abject apology and doing whatever they needed to make things right" policy suggestion to heart.
The days passed quickly, the building being shored up enough for people to return by the end of the third day. The gym was a wreck still and would be for weeks. Fourteen at least. Fifteen had been built to take a lot of punishment and looked to be totally untouched, so Carl had people running exercises there nearly constantly.
Brian still had two days on light duty from the chest wound he realized. It felt like a lot of time had passed, but it really hadn't. His nearly daily fights and runs seemed to be helping him stay in OK shape. He was too stiff now to really tell. All the deep tissue bruising had set in by the end of the second day. Still, he felt better overall now, if slower and a bit clumsy.
The lobby was gone, of course, but all of the first floor and most of the second were as well. No one lived on two, but all of team one had to find other sleeping quarters for the time being. When Karen mentioned it to him he shrugged.
"I've got a queen sized bed, if you don't mind sharing? And there's hardly anything in my closet anyway, so that shouldn't be a big issue. If it is, we can just throw my things into a box or something. I mean, if you want to... No big thing if you don't, but I'd like you to, if you want." This part of dealing with Karen could be hard.
She could act all tough and push him to exhaustion in exercise, knowing it helped him in the long run, sure. But her high level of compassion made everything seem reasonable to her. Not everything, but a lot of things that ordinary people would never even consider. Give you all her money so you can go on vacation and have fun? Sure! Go on a date with you and have sex because you're ugly and no one else ever would? Of course...
That's part of why she didn't date, as a rule, at all. Even at that other people generally played referee if anyone even tried to get her alone for too long. How they'd missed Brian, he wasn't sure. So he didn't want to make her feel pressured as if he needed her to do it for emotional reasons or to feel better about himself. On the other hand, she wasn't just about compassion, propaganda aside. She had all the same emotions as everyone else, so if he seemed too blase about the whole thing, she could end up feeling hurt.
Her arms went around his shoulders. "Really? That's so sweet! I mean... is it OK though? Won't your other... girlfriends want to have you alone or, can you just go to their rooms?" She asked this so seriously he nearly laughed. Why did everyone always think he had some string of women lined up? Had they looked at him lately? When Dave, the blue guy from team two saw him the first time after the fall off the cliff he'd run toward him with his arms spread for a hug, yelling "Cousin Brian!" because of his reddish purple skin tone, that had turned a fairly even plum color that he hadn't been certain a person could turn and still be alive. If it turned out to be permanent, team two offered to adopt him. They'd even printed up a little certificate of informal adoption, just in case. It was nice to know he had a backup plan.
He stuck his tongue out at her. "You do realize that I haven't had more than a friendly kiss in... God, nearly three years. Well, there was that shower with Marcia and Penny, but that was work related. And just to be clear about things, if you decide to sleep with some guy, or gal or anything, I really don't want to know. I mean, safe sex and all that please, but... yeah." She wrinkled her nose and kissed him, then called him silly.
Everything smoothed out for nearly a week. A whole week where all that he had to do involved working out as he could, hanging out with Karen and going to visit with the Chambers at their hotel. Almost like a mini-vacation.
Then on the sixth night as he got ready for bed, Dharma showed up, swearing and with tears in her ghostly eyes. She gave him the situation, more of those creatures up in Canada. She called them ghouls, four of them. Dharma didn't say more. This time he had nearly five minutes to get into his armor and get ready, knife, shoes with new socks and a running start.
The island he found himself on was small, a hill sticking out of the water, maybe ten foot above the wet at the highest point, where he could make out lights. The whole place was dark otherwise, but he knew this place, where he had to be. Brian even knew the names of the monsters, somewhere in the back of his mind. Rogers, Cavelli, Sorenson and Vert. Two women and two men. The people assigned to protect Melany.
They were new, still transforming out of human into whatever these things could be called. All had their uniforms on still, without significant damage. Their arms and legs stuck out, but not nearly as much as they would in a week or two based on what the others had looked like. The creatures hunted, but they weren't as strong or fast as they would be. They moved faster than a regular human would and jumped pretty well as they followed him, but he'd dealt with much worse. Brian headed toward the water and waited, then kicked one of the men in. New or not they still drowned easily. It had to be done, he knew, but he felt sad as he executed them.
Putting them down like rabid animals, not even trying to help them... It made Brian feel a little ill.
The next one to catch up with him was the other man, he'd been larger in life, muscular and fit, which translated to stronger and faster now. Good to know. This one wasn't any smarter than the first about the water yet, maybe that fear came with time? Brian didn't even have to close with him much, just get the creature to rush him and send it flying with a trip. The women found him and rushed him from two sides at once.
Then he had a fight on his hands, one that took nearly five minutes, because they wouldn't go near the water and their mouths didn't open wide enough when they moaned to get the knife in. Annoying to say the least.
Fortunately they hadn't hardened completely yet either. They could be cut. Poorly, and it took a long time, the knife slipping in his hand as he slashed at them. It worked eventually, first on one and then after a fight that delivered way too many hits on his armored arms as he blocked the fast and powerful blows, he got the blade through the right eye of the last one, going into the brain. He just left the body and walked toward the lonely yellow outdoor light up the hill.
The cabin was rustic, an actual log building, it had windows and a wooden door painted green. It wasn't locked. The inside was dark, but he could hear a humming sound, a generator or something like it. By instinct and years of habit his hand went to the right of the door looking for a light switch. When he flipped it he felt a shock of surprise that made him jump. A light actually came on.
The inside of the place was small, done all in half finished wood, but s
eemed solid, no major air gaps that he could see or feel, even if it was cooler outside than in here. He found the letter sitting on the floor, written in black felt tip, the words big and simple. "I'm causing this - let me die."
Actually it said "cousing" but he got the idea.
Melany wasn't just the specific-infector here, she knew she was, and what probably had to happen to make it all stop. Damn.
Fuck.
It wasn't fair. He wanted to scream it to the sky, but didn't, because that wouldn't do any good. Instead he checked to make sure there was food and fuel and tallied it. Fuel for a week, longer if she didn't run the generator during the day. Food for nearly a month if she knew how to cook. She did alright now over an open fire, at least it seemed so from the debris he'd found a couple of times, but Brian didn't know if roasting fish on sticks translated to making rice. She could read at least and the packages had instructions.
He sat on the floor and wrote her a note. It took two pages, printed large due to the pen, and told her about him and who he worked for and that people were going to try and help her. Then he added the hardest thing possible. That they probably couldn't save her. That the best they could do would be to buy her time and try to keep her going, away from people on this island, letting the water protect her from the hundreds of creatures coming for her.
He found a phone and it seemed to work, so he gave her the Directors phone number, which he'd made himself memorize after his last visit to Canada when he'd had to have them call a hotel to get the base contact information from a woman who'd functionally just quit her job. At the end he wrote his whole name and signed it.
Finally, debating with himself for a long while first he wrote. "Don't give up." It was all he could do for her. It wasn't enough. He shifted back to his room, making Karen jump. She hadn't even known that he'd gone anywhere.
Her eyes looked worried when she saw his, not sitting down, afraid getting up again would be too hard, he walked out of the room without saying anything. Luckily she followed him, because he didn't know what to do really.
"Karen. I... need Director Moore. Can you get me to him?" His voice sounded odd, lacking emotion, but soft and gentle at the same time. Taking his hand she led the way, not up but down to level twelve. He was in his private quarters, not even getting ready for bed yet. Brian just stood in the door and told them what had happened, leaving nothing out.
"It's her. She's the infector. That poor little girl. I... I can't save her, can I?" Moore patted him on the back and Karen held him, but he didn't really feel any of it. Everything seemed so far away. He'd failed. Again. Like before, the first time he'd met the Jackal and his friend. When he failed Barbara Dorn. And now this innocent little girl was going to die because he wasn't good enough to save her.
Tears fell from his eyes, thick and dense, running down his face and hitting the floor. He didn't sob or anything like that. At least he didn't think so. He was too busy thinking to notice. After a few minutes, answering the questions asked of him, the director left to get his phone, so Brian walked away, Karen following. Floor nine was empty when he got there. It was late, after midnight, most people would be asleep or getting ready to. In his room, their room now, Brian laid down and closed his eyes. Not sleeping really, but not thinking about anything either.
By morning when Karen woke up he'd moved to sit in his chair, focused only on what he could do, ways to save the girl, to keep her alive, to cure the Infection that had savaged her young life. That was a joke of course. No one even knew what the Infection was. No virus had ever been found, no combination of chemicals or nano machines, no bacteria or genetic predisposition had been truly uncovered. It clearly ran in families at times, but no one knew why. It also hit people in regions where they lived in near total isolation from other people, so it didn't spread by any normal means.
If Brian didn't know what it was, he couldn't fix it. Could they suppress it at all? Maybe, but testing that would be a potential death sentence for whoever got close enough to check if that option failed. Isolation might work, but for how long? Did they need to leave the girl alone for the rest of her life? Could they? Infected tended to get more powerful the longer they lived. A few seemed to taper off over time, as their bodies aged and failed, but some got stronger. As far as he could tell anyone with a class five or greater ability tended to fall into that category across the board. Melany had to be something like a class seven or eight already. How long would it be before that little island wasn't enough to keep her power contained? For all he knew it already wasn't.
Brian's mind spun looking for a loophole, some way that he could trade his own life for hers even, anything. Nothing came to him.
He didn't get out of the chair to go work out, or do much of anything. Brian stretched his mind, desperately searching for something. Anything. By the second day he had to sleep, his mind just wouldn't work anymore. Then he slept for nearly a full day. After that he got up and showered, changed his clothing and went out to look for possible answers. No one had any for him. Not even one good idea.
Hitting bottom on it he went to the gym, fifteen, and worked himself to exhaustion pushing until Carl made him leave, trying to use pain to keep the thoughts from his head. In the afternoon he grabbed Marcia and took her outside to the back of the compound and practiced fighting with her, forcing her to work harder and harder to keep up with him. Moving no faster than normal, but not letting himself pause or think about what he wanted to do next. When they worked with weapons he did the same thing. By the end of it Marcia stood back, looking more than a little worried.
Then he ran the interior perimeter of the fence line until he couldn't stand any more. It was the next day before that happened. Resting for a while on the ground, clothing soaked in sweat, breathing regular and deep, Brian waited for something, but nothing happened at all. After a while he got up, found some water and started everything all over again.
Jason started bringing him food every six hours and made him eat, threatening to shoot him if Brian refused. The sidearm in his hand had the safety off, so Brian ate and drank water when it was offered. Other than that he worked. On the second day of this, without sleep or rest, Lauren came out with Marcia, her huge armored form glistened darkly, like a beetles shell.
"Here, you seem to be looking for a challenge." Lauren didn't wait, coming for him at over sixty miles per hour. He started to pull his knife, then left it in the sheath. Lauren was his friend, not someone to risk casually like that. The knife could actually kill her and this was just practice. Instead Brian stepped to the side calmly at the last second, then ran after her, his pace a lot slower than hers. A few steps later she had to slow in order to turn and try to attack again. When she slowed enough he jumped up on her back, climbing her like a tree, slapping the flat of his hand over the breathing ports on her armored face. She panicked and tried to grab him, which didn't work, Lauren lacking the needed flexibility to reach behind her head, her own super strong armored carapace in the way. She tried for his hand, to free her mouth and nose holes up, causing Brian to let go with the right hand and slap the left in place before she could get a good breath. This went on for a few minutes, her air reserve eventually running out, driving her to one knee, then both.
Hopping off of her back and jumping in front of her as fast as possible, not letting her recover, he kicked her in the chest plate knocking her back. Without pause the knife finally flew into his hand, the tip of it touching the slit of her mouth, ready to go in. The woman hissed, sucking air in desperately.
"I don't know for sure, but it should be long enough to reach the brain stem. Is that good enough for now? I could also go for trying to choke off the air supply if I didn't have the knife. Duct tape should work for that, if I could find some. Other than that... well, you'd just kill me." He smiled, at least Brian thought he did. Marcia just waved her hand at him to get off the woman.
He sheathed the knife and waited. Lauren got up slowly, then shook her head at Marcia, some kind
of signal Brian just didn't understand and couldn't care about at the moment.
They left, so he started running again. After that he added in other exercises every few hours to give himself a small change and use some other muscles. He pushed until he couldn't do any more and then moved on to the next exercise. Then he ran again, a steady lope, not fast by any means, but not stopping either, except when required.
Marcia came back with Tobin, Dave, Lis and Soar. They all attacked at once without bothering to announce they were going to. Soar proved to be a problem and so did Marcia who seemed to be taking the whole thing much more seriously this time. He didn't win that one at all, in fact they "killed" him a half dozen times before he started figuring out how to win. After he got three in a row they all left, leaving him to run.
On day five the new man from team two, Hobbs, came out alone. He held a single stick about four foot long in his hand, smiling gently. His expression looked a lot like the one Mark generally wore for some reason, calm, peaceful and happy. Brian stopped, waiting for him to speak or attack, but the man just stood for a long time. Then without warning he moved. The fight was... brutal, harder than any of the others had been by far. They punched, grappled, kicked and pulled hair. Hobbs wasn't faster than Brian, or even stronger, not by too much at least. Fresher, but not using superior physical abilities on the level the others had. But he clearly handed Brian his behind on a platter. They fought this way for hours, neither giving ground, but the strange man scoring again and again on Brian, no matter how hard he tried to fight. It took a while, but Hobbs finally nodded and dashed in quickly, a simple fist to the back of the neck took Brian to his knees. After that the world went dark, even as Brian kept trying to fight.