The Infected: Ripped to Shreds (Book 1): Hush

by Power, P. S.

  It was better. For all their strange customs and ways, these people were vastly superior to her own.

  Then she started thinking about Hobbs, the red haired man from the library and Denny's. She wondered where he was, actually and was about to ask when Brie leaned over. Rubbing against her shoulder in a way that was far too chummy for a woman that had just helped destroy her life.

  "Nope. That was all you. You need to do the search yourself. It won't be hard. I'd start with him." She didn't look around, or hint for anyone else. She meant Hobbs of course.

  Cindy wanted to be rude about it, but kept her tongue in check, and did what she was told. It was probably correct anyway. The brown haired woman was still being a bit of a bitch about it all. It was a holiday dinner.

  She'd seen the book, the instruction manual on fighting the man represented, or that represented him, and tried to bring it back to mind. It took focus, which took her away from her food. After a minute or so, she had it, and was then able to find the index, which got her to the info page as to what he was doing at the moment. Which was, very simply, sitting on the garage roof out back, meditating on his search for anything that might be coming for them.

  She'd totally missed him before, in their search. Then, she hadn't checked that high up, not being used to it. Even hidden she could have noticed it, floating above him. That always happened with people, and was kind of like a flag. That meant she really needed to step up her game. She nodded, and Brie, the witch, smiled at her. Flirtatiously.

  That it wasn't real was clear, even without checking that part out.

  The woman shook her head.

  "Do it anyway?" No one really seemed to notice the interplay too much. They heard the words, but they didn't garner much interest.

  Stubbornly, Cindy took a bite of the potatoes with gravy.

  "This is all really great. Thanks, Lyn." She realized it was out of place for the murderer to be saying, but didn't take it back. It was true and being polite was a useful tool.

  The woman smiled back.

  "I'm glad you like it. Should I get the pies ready?"

  No one was really ready for that, and she had half a plate of food left, so Ron touched her arm, and shook his head a little bit.

  "Or we could let them eat first?" He was relaxed about it all. Not that he could help it. He didn't just seem calm however, he was a bit cheerful. Mainly because she was being polite to them.

  Not being a fool, she tried to find the info that she needed from Brie, which was less than fun. It wasn't a mess or anything, but even organizing things like a book it took a while to get to the right page, which was deep in the flood of everything. All the information anyone knew.

  However, it turned out that the woman next to her, who did like Brian a lot, was just being friendly. She was a bit of a perv, but not disingenuous about it. That she was a killer just didn't bug the lady all that much. A lot of people were, and if it weren't for the fact that she wanted to use Cindy, or more exactly, her power, she wouldn't have said anything. Just leaving a serial murderer running free and possibly doing the guy she liked for a few days.

  It was open minded in a way that only a person that had hung out with super villains for decades could really manage. After all, she'd been friends, more or less, with killers and people that wanted to kill millions of people.

  For her part, Cin just didn't care right back. It wasn't her business what the woman did. The only concern was what she wanted to use her for. That came down to a mix of data gathering in locations that she wasn't, and some interesting things that could happen in bed. With her and Brian.

  She didn't laugh, just going back to eating, trying to listen to the conversation, which had nearly stopped altogether. Finally Ron looked at them all, including her, and smiled. It was a little dry, and he asked a pretty boring question, not knowing what else to do.

  "So, does anyone have plans for Christmas?"

  There was an odd response that rolled through the room. It started with Brian, who doubted, on a deep, almost psychic level, that they'd be available then. It was going to take almost all of them, whatever it was. He didn't know exactly what the nature of it was, but it was pretty big. The thing was, while she could get all that he hadn't yet really.

  Bridget actually had a very similar response. The difference there was that it was about what Brie was going to tell them, after dinner.

  The rest just didn't want to come visit and didn't want to promise anything really. To that end, she shook her head.

  "No one here will be available around then. I don't know why, but it's big. I can get that much." She stopped, but no one seemed to doubt, her, even though Rachel looked over at her, skeptically. After a second, Brie started to nod however, getting it too.

  Her voice was a bit bemused.

  "That's about right I think. It's about what we talked about Rach. Also, we need to talk about something else." There was a knowing look between friends that the other woman simply didn't get. She was willing to wait however and trust the words then.

  That left Ron floundering a little, not knowing what to say, so she bailed him out, because it was nicer that way. The guy was actually halfway decent, after all.

  "So, what kinds of projects do you have going on Ron? You..." She read fast, and realized what he was working on was as dry as dust, but went on anyway. "A computer game? That sounds interesting."

  It really wasn't, because the man was involved in the deep infrastructure of the game mechanics, not the glamorous parts, like the graphics. Almost as if she were being a pain in the ass on purpose, Brie started talking shop with him. Perfectly. After about five minutes they stopped however, with everyone else nodding, even if Charlotte was jokingly wondering if they were talking about magic.

  Then she said the words, out loud.

  "If I would have known we were practicing magic tonight I would have brought my grimoire." That got a smile from Brian, and oddly one from Ron, who both got the reference to a witches spell book.

  Cindy got it too, being well read. In fact she'd read several of the things over the years. She just didn't want to risk pissing the woman off by laughing at her. She was fine with Ron, who was harmless and nice to everyone, and Brian, who she had feelings for, but that might not extend to her, given the moment.

  She nodded though, to show she understood. Then she kept her mouth shut. Except to finish her food. The others did talk then, covering what kinds of pies they liked. It was pretty open, and they had a lot of them, so when she was asked Cindy knew that saying hers was fine, even if it was odd.

  "Definitely peanut butter cream pie. Cherry is my second fav. Not that all of them don't sound great right now." That was due to the stress of her life being over, more or less. Honestly, even knowing that no one was planning to kill her right there, of the people in the room, that didn't mean that others might not be, at a distance. Director Turner for instance.

  So, she could have pie, and get ready to die. She didn't want too, but she was, figuratively, falling off a cliff, and wasn't able to fly. Worse, it was going to ruin her hobby. Death did that to everyone, but it was a big problem for her, personally.

  She caught an elbow to the ribs, and fought not to wince. It didn't hurt, but she also got what Brie was doing. Telling her not to just sit there, but to research her problem. To that end she brought up Brian's book, and then moved over to Marcia who, internally...

  Was worried. Not about her either. It took some reading to find out what the real problem was, since the woman was actively trying to hide it from telepaths, by thinking only about what she was doing. That wasn't a thing to stop Cin, so a few minutes later the right data was found inside the woman's book.

  The whole thing was probably pretty dark for everyone else, since there was a fairly large coup going on inside the IPB. Agents, mainly, but some of the Infected, too. Those where the people behind the attack the night before. Which, oddly, had been aimed at Prime, not the rest of them. He was a figure head, like
Proxy and Bridget were, but wasn't quite in their league as fighters. It was meant to weaken the IPB on that side, but also to send the message to the rest of the world that they weren't untouchable. Ultimately it was fear of Impulse that was the issue, but no one had figured out how to do that yet.

  It was probably what others would have thought of as selfish, but Cindy just didn't care much about that. Scott was an alright guy, in person, but she didn't know him. He wasn't her pet or anything. Not yet anyway. If someone killed him that wasn't her problem. Now if they went after her buddy Wally, then she'd have an issue. Even Brian and Bridget could take care of themselves. She didn't really know about Prime, since he was tough in his own way.

  She waited for the elbow to fly again, but Brie was distracted, looking at her love interest, Brian. Which was a bit rude, since serial killer or not, Cindy was his date. Finally she bumped the woman back, getting a smile and shrug in return, rather than speech. She knew what it was all about though. She knew pretty much everything.

  Which, since Cindy knew her now, meant that she really did too.

  That got the woman to laugh a bit, chuckling under her breath.

  "There we go. There is power in knowledge too, if you use it right. Now, should we all help with the pie?"

  That got several nods, since a lot of the food was gone from the table. She did it too, then looked at her plate.

  "We should save some for Mr. Hobbs. What does he..." She'd been about to ask what he liked, but had caught the basic idea of the day. She was supposed to actually go and find out, because otherwise the woman that knew everything would goad her into it. It was bitchy, but not wrong. Ill timed, given the end of her life coming, but she kind of got the idea. She was being pushed to survive, if for needs that weren't her own.

  Getting up, she walked to the kitchen, and got a plate, a fork and a knife, not one of the nice ones, just the daily ware, since the thing was going outside. She would have used paper, but Lyn thought that would be tacky, so Cindy went along with it. Ticking off Proxy's mother wasn't her plan for the day. When she had a nice plate of things, light on meat, but with a lot of starches, and color to it, and a nice piece of apple pie, which was his favorite kind, she walked out back.

  "Um... Hobbs? I brought some food? How do I get it to you?" She knew that the answer was to have him come to her, but to his mind that was a thing that she needed to ask him about. He would have done it regardless, only with a sense of deep grudging inside. That just wasn't the way it had been done back home. You requested people do things, unless they were under you. Telling him to come down for her was a command option. This way would mark her as an equal, but not make him have to fight against a desire to call her on it. Not that he'd kill her over it, or even fight. It would just make it harder for him to be her friend that way.

  Without exactly understanding where he'd been, the man moved quickly, and rolled on the cold ground. It was dirt under that portion and he ended on his feet, walking toward her.

  "Ah! Kind of you to think of me, miss. Being strange to you as I am. Is all well within? I have seen nothing that I think of as note, as to this point." It was clear from the story over his head, now that she had picked out the right page of it to not be a fighting manual, that he was assuming she was both on his side in things, and going to be reporting what he said.

  She grinned, forcing it and shook her head.

  "One thing. Well, two really, but you'll get briefed on that after dinner. I..." She nearly froze, then realized that to him, like Mary, being strong was a good enough reason to do a lot of things. "I'm the killer that people came to look for. Trivia is here, you saw that?"

  Without more than a minor note that they'd finished the one task they had, the man nodded, his happy outer expression not changing in the slightest.

  "Ah? I did see her and Lady Rachel coming in earlier. I can't help but notice that you still have your freedom? Isn't the custom here to lock away those that displease the rules?" Not the rulers, which was funny, but the very concept of steady, regular laws was a new one for him. A thing he liked. He found the idea greatly superior to simply being set for trial in his homeland.

  That basically meant being blamed, with no effort to find the proof, often without being allowed to actually speak in your own defense in many places. In this world you could be accused of even the worst crimes, and suffer no more than an investigation. At times they even tried to show you were innocent, and if they found that was true, the entire system would drop the whole thing, and allow you to walk away. Unharmed, and without trial by combat or ordeal.

  So he was asking simply because he didn't understand at the moment.

  She shrugged, and looked away, then passed the food over, smiling.

  "Trivia wants to use me, so that she can do less work. Not that she seems lazy, but she wants to have someone doing basically the same thing, if in a different place. Not that I'm in her league. So we're blaming my desire to kill on my first mode. Honestly, I don't know if that's the truth. They want to give me some experimental treatment, to see if it will work on women. That beats dying, so I guess I get to do that instead of prison. Not that they won't kill me if I try to escape. I should get you to help train me so I can do that." She was joking, of course.

  Hobbs, looked her up and down, which didn't even have a sexual overtone, and then nodded.

  "You have a weakness of form, but are fit already. There are worse places to start from. Holding clear thoughts, meditation it is called here, might serve to help you resist the desire to kill. Master it, perhaps, if it turns to be outside the Infection which plagues you. All things you do are subject to choice. If I agree to aid you thus, will you submit to my rule? Do what I say, even when you don't wish to? It is a hard course, and there will be much of pain, and discomfort. Also great skill, if you can earn it."

  Cin shook her head, but smiled. He just used language in a funny way. There was almost no real accent to it, but the words were very different from normal.

  She decided to be blunt, not caring yet what he thought. The idea wasn't a bad one, since the man was the best fighter in the world, or very close to it. If she could learn that, it wouldn't hurt. Also, he hadn't balked at the idea of teaching her how to get away. That was really interesting.

  "So, do what you say? So I have to take it up the ass for you?" She knew it hadn't been what he meant, reading that, but the man, used to fighting with words too, not just fists or weapons, nodded instantly.

  "Aye, at need. From myself, from others... Whatever I ask of you. I had not thought to push any of my current students in that way, but it may serve for some lesson in the future. If so, then you will do it?" He actually expected her to say no, she realized.

  Which would be foolish, because even if she tried and failed, trying would be a good way to get him on her side. She could, in effect earn his respect. Even if she wasn't good enough.

  "Alright. When do we start?"

  The man smiled, or more to the point, kept smiling since he'd done that the whole time, but he meant it then, and gave a single slow nod that was nearly a tiny bow.

  "On the morrow? At light of day, we shall meet, and work until other tasks present. If not then, we shall move the effort to the next day. I shall test you, and see what might be of need. Now, if you would go and reassure the others that you have not left me rent and dying out here?"

  That was a joke. The man could have killed her without even emptying his hands, or dropping the food. So instead of bothering to feel butthurt over it, she gave a small wave and turned to go inside. "See you later. Probably in about an hour? Trivia wants to talk to everyone. I mean, not me, but I already know. Kind of what I do." Other than kill. The idea that she wasn't going to get to now left her feeling sad.

  It was her favorite thing, and these people were going to steal it from her. It was more than that. Her life had revolved around it for years, and now... She felt empty already. Her soul was going to be stripped away, and only survival was left.


  Going in she was looked at, and it was clear that everyone was kind of surprised to see her. Plus she had two pieces of pie on the table, obviously meant for her. They were huge too. She could eat and not get too fat, but she was comfortably full already. Not that she was saying no. The peanut butter cream pie looked as good as any she'd ever seen.

  Settling in, she made her report. There was no reason not to, and life being done or not, she wasn't dead yet. If she could live, it was possible that, in the future, she might manage to escape. Somehow.

  Brie the bitch covered her mouth, smiling and chewing at the same time over her thoughts. Brian just looked at her, working things out that were a bit surprising. Somehow he'd gotten that Bridget was able to tell the future on some level, from what she and Trivia had said.

  She waved toward the garage.

  "All clear so far. I updated him on how you're all evilly keeping me from having anything good in life, and he agreed to train me, so I can escape later, as long as he and his buddies can do me up the behind whenever they want. So it will have all the fun of prison without the aids." The man had been a lot nicer than that, and wouldn't ever do anything like that at all, unless it really did come up as needed for training, but she was feeling a little bit upset, she knew.

  Feeling pissy and whiny, thanks to the idea that her life was well and truly over now. Upset at the loss of her one good thing. The thrill of killing those she hated. Those random men that were too much like her father. Who, while he wasn't perfect, she didn't actually dislike at all. At least she hadn't before she'd turned over as Infected.

  Before she could apologize, Brie nodded at the shocked table. Not all of them were, but Ron and Lyn had their mouths open.

  "That's about what was said. Not that he intends it that way. It's a good idea however. The training parts. That way I don't have to do it all the time. So, it sounds fun to me." She looked around, and then waved at the seat next to her, indicating that sitting was a grand idea with a gesture that was both graceful and almost absent minded. It was, Cin knew, done that way on purpose. "The big point is that we need to have someone on top of you for the next few months. Three or four, really. You'll have to make some adjustments, and quit your job here. I hate to ruin your life, but if the police ever find out that you killed those people, they will not just let it go. They shouldn't either. We shouldn't. You don't get a choice in it right now, or not much of one, but that's the same for all serial killers. The only real difference here is that we can do something about it. We can rebuild you..." She said that last bit like it was meaningful, but the reference didn't carry to most of the people in the room.