War Day (The Infected Book 9)

by P. S. Power

  Thinking about it, he kind of wondered what Mary suggesting that to him really meant. Was it, like she'd said, just about placating the dead? Or was it about her being bored with him in bed? That thought wasn't the nicest he'd ever had, and was probably about his own low self-esteem. Maybe she just honestly expected someone like him, who she viewed as powerful, to have all the women he wanted? If that was the case, well, he'd tried having an open relationship with Karen and that hadn't ended up working too well, had it?

  That night he got home a bit earlier, and felt a thrill when he thought of it that way. A place that wasn't just a room the government allotted him. It had been a long time since he'd been to a home, much less really had one. It was Mary's, but she seemed pleased to see him when he got there. Her pretty blue eyes lit up, and she gave him a soft smile that showed how white her teeth were. Not perfectly even, but clean and well cared for, showing no wear in particular.

  Because she'd stopped aging a long time before. He wasn't going to be doing that, was he?

  Rather than hold that in, he mentioned it after closing the shop down. That night they were having bulgur wheat and veggies, with a tart and sour vinegar sauce. It was all right, but a little stranger than what she'd fed him before. Definitely from a different culture. He was adaptable though, and it really wasn't bad. Just different.

  "So, you aren't aging? Braid said something to me once, the first time we met. About a year ago." He stopped and counted, shaking his head a bit. "Longer than that by a lot, I guess. That I wasn't really immortal. That seemed silly to me at the time, since, you know, I was measuring my life span in minutes, not weeks, but she knew that I'd traveled in time before, though I hadn't at the time."

  There was a soft gaze, over the food, and then a little smile from his girlfriend. Even thinking of her as such got him to smile back.

  "Oh, and aye. That makes sense. Though you must learn to harness time and warp its flow on your own, before you will be given such. That is the way of it. That you can do so is clearly given. It must needs be what she meant to imply. Trying to alter what you would think and do, mayhap without the proper balance that one of her kind might bring to such, in normal converse." The words were a bit more heavily accented than normal, which was odd.

  Mary could sound like she was from the mid-west without too much effort, and did that in the store most of the time. Also when she was speaking to him. Her being even a bit more formal was a sign that she was seeing something that she didn't want to mention to him, but thought she should.

  The trick there was that he had no clue what to even ask about. He locked eyes with her and let his face light up a bit, trying not to seem half dead inside. He still felt that way, off and on, but with a bit of effort it was possible for him to not act that way.

  "Well, hopefully I can get to that someday. It may not make my life longer, but having extra skill never hurts."

  That, instead of making her frown or seem worried, got a large grin.

  "Good then! I was worried that you might seek to put that off, fearing what having a longer life might bring. Some do, even among my own family. Only one in four is willing to try to earn the skill, you know. Past that, only one in three manages it. You, however, have already shown the first sign, so will do well. We can see to that after the meal? Before we retire to the bedroom?" That last bit was clearly meant to be sexy. She kind of managed it too. It was a bit off, feeling like she meant it as a reward for good behavior, rather than just something fun they might do, if they had time.

  "That sounds... Well, I like the last part." Because, who wouldn't like that? She was incredible after all. Willing to sleep with him and everything, as well as being really nice.

  Most of the time. It turned out that learning to travel in time was shunned by most of her people for a reason. The training method was insane. She explained it at least, as she showed him what to do several times.

  "You must feel the flow of time. You do this always. All beings do. As time passes, we measure it inside ourselves. Note that, and then pluck at it gently, to create a flow around you. Like this..."

  She did it, and he could see it happening, he thought. Or really it was more of a feeling, like a sheet of spider webs being pulled over them. He tried it himself, as she watched, her face going hard suddenly.

  "I see. Well, if that is the way of it, love, then prepare yourself! It is time for you to face the first challenge!"

  Without warning he felt a wall of time collapse on him. Everything went a painful white, though it didn't hurt or tingle this time. The last time had been so intense that way that he feared the light for a moment, but made himself relax, even as nothing else happened. He wasn't in the room anymore, as far as he could tell, and nothing shifted as he stood there, waiting for the rest of it.

  After what felt like forever, or was possibly five or six minutes, he understood the idea. She'd trapped him in time, somehow. Now he had to free himself. That however, was a lot easier to think about than do. He could pluck at time, but nothing of note happened really.

  It felt like forever, but he finally realized that he wasn't adding any power to the attempt. Creating a tingle while trying to bend time back into a normal flow got better results. The light around him dimmed, and turned red, at least.

  Finally he dropped to the floor of the living room where they'd been working.

  Mary wasn't standing there however. In fact, it was pretty clear that something was horribly wrong.

  Her house had been torn in half, and he could see bright daylight from the front of the place. Walking forward, he got that he was in the future at least. So, he'd managed to time travel. How far, he didn't know, but the damage didn't seem new. On the good side, the road out front was fresh and well paved, and oddly the donut shop was still there.

  Only now the sign in front said "Clark's Coffee and Donuts". It seemed to shift and glow, moving in a strange weaving pattern. Brian went in, his face set. He was still dressed in his work fatigues, and the three cars out front were smaller and more aerodynamic looking than he was used to. Another pulled in, as he stood there, making almost no sound. Electric, most probably. It was a nice color too, being a rather iridescent white. From what he could see there was no steering wheel, and the driver wasn't actually in control.

  He half expected Clark Clarkson to be inside when he went in, but found himself faced with someone else altogether.

  It was Bridget behind the counter. She looked older though, like she was pushing the ripe old age of nineteen, instead of the twelve she'd looked to him the entire time they'd known each other.

  Her face had changed a bit, and was more round, but still slender. Filled out into a shape that looked pretty good, actually. No one would think to call her Rat-Girl now, he didn't suppose. She glanced up at him, and smiled.

  "Brian! Going to a costume party? I haven't seen one of those in nearly... Well, I can't remember, so that's telling, isn't it?" She waved at the uniform, her own clothing being a light blue shirt, a pullover, with long sleeves, which looked comfortable, but a bit different than he was used to. As he watched her, the fabric flared, then became a regular piece of clothing again.

  He shook his head, deciding not to bother lying about it. Lies just got you in trouble, as far as he could tell.

  "Nope. Time travel. I actually managed this one on purpose. Sort of. Quick, tell me the lotto numbers for December first, twenty-fifteen..." He smiled about it, and her face fell.

  Then she rallied a bit, at least.

  "Right. I remember you telling me about that. Well... You're about a hundred years in the future then. You'll want to know that. Also... You need to hang on. When you go back. Things get bad back then, for a long time. You... I'm sorry. You'll make it, but... Not everyone will."

  There was a darkness in her eyes, but she rallied and smiled again, then came around the counter. It was clear that she was taller now. Almost five-one or two. Brian felt himself being hugged, before it happened, almost as if he fel
t that taking place a moment before it did.

  "It's good to see you. You hardly ever visit anymore. That's my fault, living here like this. I kept Mary's house, the way it... Well. I can't talk about that. There are some things you shouldn't know yet."

  Brian wasn't stupid though, which the girl in front of him had to know. The old woman, if it was a hundred years or more later. That idea was hard to wrap his mind around.

  "She... Doesn't make it?" He felt scared, but Bridget actually smiled.

  "What? No, she's fine. She just had to move back to her world, after... Well, you two aren't together, and haven't been for a very long time. It wasn't really your fault, or hers, but remember not to be a cunt about it, when it happens. It's for the best, in the end, even if it won't feel like it at the time."

  That was less than good to hear, but he nodded.

  "I'll try. So, is this what has to happen, or what should? Or... I don't know, just what takes place at the moment I left? I notice that we're still all here? So Braid doesn't win?"

  She shook her head, but didn't seem all that happy suddenly.

  "That... It's different than you can know yet. It took me a long time to figure out. It really isn't about her. Not alone. The thing there is that... I can't tell you. You need to make the decisions you did. It... I can't tell you. I really hate time travel. Anyway, you should go soon. It's neat, seeing you like this again. Just, promise me that you'll hang in there? I know that things won't be easy, not for a long time, but they will be again."

  He made a face, then nodded at her.

  "Well, that sounds like a good time to be had by all. So anyway, Clark's? Please tell me you don't get married to Clark Clarkson? Pretty please? I'd almost rather it be Tesseract, to tell the truth."

  That actually got her to laugh.

  "Nooo. This is a different Clark. My adopted daughter's boy. I haven't thought about him in... oh, fifty years or more now. If I recall correctly he was already dead when you'd left. I just hadn't told you yet. Braid and her people had taken him and tried to use him to control me. I told them to kill him instead. They did. One thing there with Devorah Timberland, she kept her word." She started back around the counter, where there was no till, but there was a scanner it looked like, that people waved a hand over when they were done collecting what they wanted. She looked at him watching and laughed.

  "Go! Quick, before we end up tainting the time stream more than we already have. No fair taking any technology back. We need to let things play out naturally. It never works any other way. Not here."

  She did dart back around the counter, and gave him another big hug. Again, he felt her arms first, about five seconds before she touched him. It was a weird effect. She leaned in and whispered to him however, keeping her voice quiet.

  "You have to kill her. That's the only way it works, in the end. Don't let her win. Not again. Even if this world never comes about..."

  Then she stood back, and spoke a bit more loudly.

  "Well, you probably need to get back. Things will be busy for you."

  The words shook him a little bit, but he didn't let himself think about them. He tried not to at least. Don't let her win... again? What did that mean? Rather, he got what Bridget had been saying, but...

  "All right. I understand. This isn't where I'm supposed to be. I'll do the right thing."

  Why the heck wouldn't he kill Braid? Unless some other woman was meant? There were a few that would be very hard for him to kill, but he knew that his granddaughter had meant Devorah. No one else. The sense of it was incredibly strong.

  He walked back to the place he'd come in, the house charred in places, and the floor starting to fall in, due to the weathering that had taken place over the years. Trying not to think, he sighed, and focused. Then, adding a bit of energy, he slowly plucked at time again, and made the world go red.

  Which was, he knew, wrong. He wanted white, didn't he? That didn't come though, so he tried to just fix his mind on the idea of the right place and time. The whole trip was still red, but when he dropped the energy from it, Mary was standing there again.

  "There you are! I'd worried for a moment, when you didn't appear instantly. Most die on their first attempt, or more correctly, are stuck forever in time. I'd thought that would not be your path." She grinned at him, relief in her eyes.

  He stuck out his tongue, trying not to worry about how he was going to lose her.

  "I was here, about a hundred years from now. Bridget was running the shop? She renamed it, and the house was falling down. Some kind of damage. She mentioned that we'd broken up, but were still friendly? Something about you having to go back to your own world. She didn't say why."

  Mary looked away, but sighed.

  "Did she say how soon it was that I was called on to return?" The words were pretty certain sounding, as if that were a thing that simply would end up happening, eventually.

  "Nope. She just told me not to be a cunt about it, when it happened. I love you, and don't want you to leave... I'll try though, if it's something you have to do. I hope it isn't too soon."

  That got a nod, but it was a bit subdued.

  "Well, the path to the future is not writ in stone. What you see one time may well be changed the next. If such comes, and I must needs answer, well, what we do here may not influence it over much. Until it happens there is no need to worry however. It may be but a day or two, until that takes place, or on to ninety years, if you went so far ahead and young Bridget said nothing more. Sooner though, rather than later, I would hazard. If she warned you from being too emotional about it. After too long, such things are always easier. People are not truly meant to be together all that long."

  Then she kissed him, clearly trying to distract him from what that all meant. She was, he remembered, a lot older than he was. She'd probably loved, and lost, more people than he ever would. Trying not to be a cunt, as Bridget had warned him, he just kissed her back.

  They made love, and he managed to focus on that well enough, and sleep without too many dreams that night. When he woke in the morning, the whole thing from the day before felt unreal to him, but it wasn't as bad really. After all, the future was still to come, and time travel aside, he'd have time to live his life. Maybe he could change it anyway?

  Mary and he worked side by side to prepare the morning donuts, and he got them into place more easily that day than the one before, landing them on an empty mess hall table without ever touching the boxes himself. Then he helped get everyone through their paces, increasing the running time for the day. They needed a real gym soon, however. A place to lift weights and practice fighting out of the weather. That wasn't going to happen for a while though, he didn't think.

  After catching a shower, and finding that Marcia had added a tiny table to her office, with its own computer and phone for him to use, she turned to him, and shook her head.

  "Brian, we need to talk..."

  He blinked, and patted the desk. "No. You can't break up with me. You just got me this cool set up."

  That got her to chuckle a bit, and it was nearly sultry, he thought.

  "Not that kind of talk. About Penny. We need to get her some help, it's in my notes, but... I'm not sure what to do. We should lock her butt up for what she's done, but... I can't remember her having done it. Besides, she's valuable here."

  They might need her to kill Braid. That didn't need to be said, but it seemed like he was supposed to be the one to do it, if it was going to happen. At least that might have been the message. Now he kind of wished he could have pinned Bridget down on that one a little more. It had seemed a bit like she wasn't allowed to talk at the time though. He hadn't thought about it, since they always lived like they were being watched and listened to, but she'd seemed to be a store owner, not in the IPB, as far as he could tell.

  It was frustrating, but he set that aside for the time being, because no matter what else, he had to live in the moment. Everyone did, no matter where, or when, they were.

&n
bsp; "I think we should get some counselors in. People for her to talk to, and see if that will help? This all seemed to be related to her first mode. You know the rules there as well as I do. Not that we can let her just keep on doing that kind of thing. Really, I should go and talk to her about it more. I've kind of been avoiding that, since it really makes me mad. I mean, she could have asked to do things with me at almost any time, and I would have found a way. Instead she just... You know."

  "Raped you? Most of the other men too, at some point. Some of the women. Do... you need counseling for that?" She wasn't trying to be cute about it, just asking him.

  He started to say no, because he was too strong to be really hurt by things like that, but Brian looked at her finally, and nodded. "I think that might be a good idea. Not just about that, but a lot of things. I've killed so many people, and a lot of other things... I can still barely look at a cop without trying to kill them. I'm just so angry sometimes. This stuff with Penny doesn't help."

  She nodded, not seeming to judge him at all, so at least there was that. It felt like she might, for a moment, but instead she looked away, her face flat and expressionless.

  "Yeah. It's a totally fucked up thing. I'll get some people in for it. Can you talk to Penny, or... Really, I should. Making one of her victims do it..."

  He shrugged. "Maybe it's what has to happen? I'll handle it. No one else can really remember anything about it. Still, don't forget to get some help for Warren. Now I need to get to that, in fact, unless we get a call for something?" He glanced at the phone, but it didn't ring, so he smiled. "So much for being saved by the bell."

  It got the woman in front of him to smile, but she looked sad. Her curly hair was pulled back that day, and she looked young, he realized. She was pretty, too. Not as great that way as some, perhaps, since she didn't have any make-up on that day, but she wasn't doing too bad, for all that.