by P. S. Power
She cried out.
"Ow!" Though she kept going, which was a good idea. Even limping and injured, it would save her a second can of expensive and foul tasting coconut juice. Her dad loved the stuff, which was a funny thing to remember while a fight was going on.
That move was just enough to let Tess get them away, since Doug moved to shield Charity with his body. The world suddenly flashed black and purple. Alternating, as Tessie's creepy looking stretched and warped form came through the wall to the left. And the right. At the same time. She was back to not being able to move, and this time Mary didn't do anything useful, already seeming pretty tapped. What had worked against one Tesseract couldn't hold out against three, it seemed. Doug didn't move, but did drop the man he was holding to the ceiling, which was the same being that were in those other places. Probably from the future, having come back to make sure he didn't die. Again.
How the hell were they supposed to handle that? Using four class nines in a fight was just cheating. Maybe the first one didn't count, but the others still did. It wasn't fair!
She wanted to scream, but by the time she could, a few seconds later, the purple light gone from around them and space not seeming as wavering and bent out of shape, Braid and all three of the Tesseract's, were gone.
Naturally.
There was a piece of paper on the floor, where Braid had been. It was folded in thirds, length wise, and on the outside had her name. Bridget Alison Chambers.
She picked it up, not too worried about the others yet. Doug was unscathed, and Charity would have a knot on her head, but would be fine. Mary was winded, but not injured seeming. Just tired.
Bridget really expected it to be a note saying that to save them all she had to kill Proxy. Or herself. That, or something so bizarre that there was no way she could even understand it. Instead it just said four words. Ones that weren't even an insult. Just wrong.
"You're a class eight." She said the words out loud, but the only person that responded to them at all was Doug, who just looked at her blankly for a few seconds, then came around the counter by the till and went to the soda fountain for some reason.
Where he got a cup of ice. That got handed off to Charity, to hold to her head. It took a minute for him to collect the girl from outside, and she was crying when she came in, but he looked at Impulse again and made a face.
"You're probably a class nine and she wants you to undersell yourself. If I have the right idea that kind of thing is what she does. I was told you were probably a class seven, but no one wanted to let you know about it until you could handle your impulses. They weren't wrong keeping it from you, so that part shouldn't be a problem. That leaves what I just said, I think." He was pretty cheery about it all, which did make her feel a bit better than she might have if she'd been stewing on it.
"Wait, everyone lied to me? For how long?"
Mary stood up, her hands on her thighs though, still gasping a bit for air, and not bothering to chat, as Charity moaned softly.
Doug snorted at her, as if fighting a laugh.
"I'm going to wager that it's been a long time. Years at least. For instance, I have it on pretty good authority that there is no Santa. It's just your parents putting the presents under the tree. Same deal with the Easter Bunny. The Tooth Fairy... Well, that one is clearly real, but you get the idea?" He pretended to be serious, but she nodded, after a bit.
Thinking about it, she did get the point.
"Right. I kind of knew that, already. I was told, or at least it had been hinted at. But, a class eight? No one is a physical class eight. A class nine is considered nearly unstoppable by human forces. As in, they could take the entire world's combined armies in a fight, at one time. Like what that jerk wad just did in here, bringing four of him to the fight like that. A class eight would need to be able to do about half of that, and... That isn't possible. You can only be in one location at one time. I mean, I can only do that."
Doug moved to Charity and put a hand on her shoulder, which seemed to be a caring gesture, not him trying to get in good with her, for later nookie opportunities. It might end up being that too, if he played his cards right. She was old enough and looked it, so it might work. The girl didn't shrug him off, at any rate.
"I don't know. That might be the trick then, yeah? You go into a tailspin, trying to figure out how it would work? Even if it's true, but you just can't figure it out yet. That could waste a lot of time. My best take on this for the moment is that we need to let everyone else know what just happened and then follow the current plan. We need to get those kids to safety, but I can't love the idea of the healer going away. Brian might not survive that. You nailed that one though, didn't you? It has to be part of the real plan. Why Braid wants it to be done her way. If only we could save them and figure out how to stop her plan?"
Bridget waited for a bit and went to get a cup of filtered water from the machine, then held it out to her grandmother, who was nearly back to normal, finally. She took it as if it were exactly the right thing, and timed her sips to be in between the gasps.
"Thank you... Dear. I'll... Be off... In a.... moment." Then she handed the half full paper cup back, the waxed cup seeming slightly damp to Bridget's fingers, and just stood there for a long time, until she was back to her regular self.
Charity had recovered too, and was awkwardly holding the cup to the back of her head. She looked at Bridget, and seemed worried.
"Who were those people? I was here the whole time, but I don't think I understood half of what just happened."
It was a recovered shopkeeper that spoke, her voice a bit sour sounding and her face matching, as she looked at her ice cream case. The one that had imploded a bit, under the force of Doug's power. He saw where she was looking and winced.
"Ah... I'll pay for that. Sorry." He really seemed to be, but she shook her head.
"Nay, Douglas. You did as was needed and protected us all with your sporting gifts. It was as needed." She'd gone a bit formal, but didn't keep that up, grinning at the man after a bit. "I do think that he was rather surprised by that, don't you? Anyway, Charity, to answer your question, you just faced battle with two of the most dangerous beings this world holds. The villains known as Braid and Tesseract. I think, after a fashion, that we managed well enough this day. They fled the field, and we all still have our lives. That was not an assured ending, if I sense the flow of things correctly."
Bridget had to agree with that sentiment.
"No doubt. I think that... I don't know, we managed to do something unexpected, in there. That's a big deal. Not that I can really tell you what threw things off. Something Proxy did? Or his power?"
Her grandmother, looking young and a bit too cute for the situation, nodded primly at her.
"Or, given what was said on that paper, and by Devorah herself, your own ability. You are related to Brian, after all, and the Wyrdcraft line. It is not impossible that your own powers would be influenced by his. Before your birth, I mean. He was in this world in the early eighties, with his full abilities. That might be part of the reason for it. Not that I understand the ways of your Infection. The rules seem to run sideways to good sense, most days."
Doug cleared his throat and actually rolled his eyes a bit. "No doubt. No one even knows how it really works. We call it an infection, but it's not that. It isn't any kind of virus or bacteria that anyone has found yet. Not nano devices either. Like you said, if it has rules, they don't work in any way that I can understand. So, what's next? Go and get the kids off to a safe place?"
It might have made sense to do it that way, but Mary just looked away and didn't mention what she was going to do in any way. She didn't even hint at it. Instead she looked at Bridget.
"We should seek to salvage the meal, before we do anything." It was pretty clear that to her mind a little thing like a fight with Tesseract and Braid was just to be taken in stride.
Charity looked shocked at it, but Doug just started cleaning the place up, unpluggi
ng the cold case first, then trying to find a dust pan and broom.
The meal took about forty minutes to finish up. While it was good, and Mary shut the front door while they ate, they did it in the store, in case soldiers came to get drinks, or goodies. It seemed unlikely to her, but at seven-fifteen, almost exactly, about two hundred people descended on them all at once. Most walked into place, though some rode in various military vehicles. They were polite and friendly enough. Also filled with information about the shoot out that had happened earlier. A good hunger for ice cream bars as well, since Doug marked them at half price, for a limited time only. Otherwise they'd melt anyway.
A woman that looked to be some kind of medic was the one that told her about the gun fight. More to the point, she told Doug, who she actually recognized, at least by his code name. Not until after she went on about the old man that had fought the police, not wanting to leave his home. They were saying he was Infected, but other than fighting instead of just going along with them, it didn't sound like he showed any sort of power.
"Wait! You're Gravity! From the IPB. We were told that everyone on the base out there had died. How did you survive? We need to tell our commander. I, they'll want to question you!"
A few of the other soldiers turned and one, an older fellow, walked over, his face excited. He was smart however and didn't try to grab her friend, or anything that silly.
"That sounds about right. You could come with us?" He asked at least, and Doug looked at Bridget, who was manning the donut counter.
The whole thing could have gone very wrong, but she smiled and danced forward.
"He was with me, out on a training mission. We haven't been able to find out much, so we came here, since Mary knows us and let us stay. It would be best if we didn't leave with you, since, you get the idea, the military might have been behind this. I'm not trying to start anything or point fingers, but if you killed my friends, it's going to be an issue." Her voice cracked at the end and a real tear came to her eye. Why, she wasn't really certain, but it looked right and the man looked grim, rather than like he wanted to start a dick measuring contest.
She really was sad, given that her only home had been destroyed that day.
It showed, and the man didn't seem inclined to fight about it. That probably meant he was the smartest man in the military and should get several promotions before the world ended.
"I understand, miss. Would it be all right if we send some people around to get a statement? I could do the first one of those, if you want? That way you won't have to leave. As far as I know we weren't behind this. Not that anyone mentioned to me. We really don't want a fight, if we can help it."
That made sense to her, so she nodded. It would work better to have this guy do the first bit of paperwork anyway. It wouldn't be enough, which he seemed to know, but he wasn't a pro, she was willing to bet. Not at that kind of thing. For instance, she was willing to guess that he wouldn't even separate them or anything, meaning they could get their story straight without too much practice. Just by listening to whoever went first.
Sounding tired and sad, she nodded.
"We should hang here for a bit. So we can work. People need to get their snacks, and Mary is needed in the back, since I can't make the donuts. We're going to run out at this pace. We... Should keep the troops fed and happy, since, you know, they had a hard day too."
The man was, oddly enough, pretty good with that idea. He didn't even insist that they talk to him while they worked, just buying his own bit of chow, and a twenty ounce bottle of orange soft drink, then moved outside to wait for things to clear a bit. That took a while, since it seemed that going to the donut shop, with its tiny country style convenience store in the front, was the only thing that the Army was allowed to do that night. They paid full price too, meaning that Mary made a lot more that evening than she would have in a normal week. As time went on, more men and women came. Making the number closer to six hundred, she thought. All carrying rifles, a few with hand guns too, but no one coming in with anything powerful enough to worry her. Doug either, but that was down to the fact that he was so busy behind the register that he didn't have time for things like that. Emotions didn't show on his face, as far as she could tell. If he felt something more, inside, he was keeping it there perfectly. Probably too much so, given that all his close friends were supposed to have died earlier that day.
They didn't talk to each other, but at about nine-thirty there was a lull, so she shrugged and waved for him to follow her outside. He really didn't look very upset or even worried. That was a bit off, she realized. He wasn't afraid of the military man that waited for them, holding a pad of paper and a pen now, but he should have been worried about their friends. Their lost home... Something.
So she went first, as a distraction, walking up to the soldier, who was a major she thought, judging by the insignia he wore, and spoke quickly, to steer Doug to the right idea.
"We haven't been in contact with our people. Is... My parents were there, did they escape? I... I mean, my dad's freaking Prime. I... Mom, she didn't make it, did she?" She managed to look pretty bad, she bet, washed out and like it had been weighing on her. That was just the way she looked without makeup on. Washing up earlier had removed all that she'd had, thankfully. She'd have looked really funny otherwise.
The man, Major Cambrin, looked at her and then shook his head, slowly, letting them know that things were bad.
"We don't have the final word, but I won't lie, there's just a hole out there. Not radioactive, but nothing is left but glass. If they were there, I don't know how they could have gotten away. Not even Argos could outrun something like that. I'm sorry." He sounded it, and then stiffened, as if he expected Bridget to do anything other than cry? Like his butt might be killed, because she was angry at the news.
Instead she hugged Doug, and bit her bottom lip. It wasn't too hard to let her eyes water, and a single tear to escape.
"Crap... That... We thought that was the case. We haven't heard from anyone. What are we going to do? I... It's just us left, isn't it? Some of the people in the field offices. If they went to protocols-" She looked at Doug, who shook his head, not getting that one, but she was on a roll.
They were "caught", but that was down to them not fleeing like they should have. Really, it would sell the story even better, because her people wouldn't have left impulsive little her out of things, would they? Doug either. That meant, or should mean to the world, that the IPB had just been totally destroyed. Except for her, and a few people in the field.
Who had already run for it. That was the official plan, so she explained it, as if it were a rule. They weren't deserters, just following orders.
"The people who were off base will have headed out, if they could. Not all of them, but that was the rule. If anything like this happened we were to assume that the IPB was disbanded and head for the hills. People who were on cases would still hang with them, probably. We all know that the job could mean that. If you're the only line of defense left, you finish it and protect people, even if it means dying later. Protocols... We should have too, but... Well, I was hoping that some of the people might make it. Dad and Lauren..." She stopped and looked at the man, who seemed thin, tired, and in need of a second shave for the day. He had bags under his eyes, the kind that never left, and was tan, but a bit gray in color. His hair was brown, and whatever his day job was, he managed not to be an a-hole to a little girl whose family and friends were all dead. Infected or not, he managed to pat her arm gently.
"We'll get the word out. I should write that down. I know this is hard, but what were you two doing that had you off base?"
She shrugged, and then sighed.
"We were on a camping trip. The goal was to run a hundred mile loop without being seen. We were on the way back into town here, about halfway back to the base, when the explosions took place. There were some little ones first, and then the big thing."
Doug looked away, seeming grim.
; "It was huge. I can still see it. I... mean it's burned into my eyes. Even when I close them, it's there. A bright spot that won't go away. I was looking at it when it happened. More or less. So, after that we ran around the town and into Charity, who had been at school, I think. Her dad's out of town, so we brought her with us. Mary took us in. We heard shooting earlier, but given everything we couldn't trust that it wasn't you guys trying to come for us." He looked back at the groups of soldiers sitting up against the building in the parking lot, which was filled with troop transports. They weren't camping there after all, so needed some way to get around. "We'd been warned, the IPB had. By a member of Delta Force. They've been working on ways to attack us for a while. It doesn't make sense, because we're all on the same side, but who else could do this? I mean, that wasn't a training accident. Someone meant to kill us all. It wasn't some stupid militia group either. If we'd been there, Bridget and me..."
The man nodded. Then he wrote, and asked questions for a long time.
"Again, I'm really sorry about all this. This is a tragedy. A fucking disaster. I wish I had some better news for you two about it. I'll pass this along, and you'll probably need to do it again, in the morning. If you need anything, be sure to let me know. I'll make sure to pass the word to tell you if we find anything." That didn't sound good, but it was about all the man could say, wasn't it?
She nodded, and patted Doug on the shoulder, trying to reassure him. It was what she'd have done if their world had really fallen apart, so it would seem right. She hoped at least. The honest truth was, if the base had been hit like that and her family had really died instead of running off to hide, she would have killed people. Probably all of the military in the town, to start. That, and the whole police department. She was still going to take out the Chief if she got the chance and could manage it without being caught.