The Infected 1: Proxy (12 page)

The only person he'd spent any real time with was Karen and most of that was her telling him to "keep going". Good advice, but not exactly a close relationship. It had to be done, but when everything sucked that hard it was easy to associate the pain with the person telling you to make it hurt worse.

Penny... he'd miss her. They probably could have been friends eventually, being that he was the only one that could be bothered to listen to her. He didn't know it for a fact, but it felt like that, his willingness to pay attention, was the real explanation as to why he could hear her. It made him feel a little sad, but what could be done about that anyway? Even if everything went well, he had what, a year or two before he'd be gone? Then she'd be left alone again. Would it really be kinder to be there for her now, becoming her friend, only to leave her alone again that soon?

At the current rate of things it probably wouldn't matter. How many more attempts on his life would he last through, beaten up and tired like he was all the time? Two? Maybe if only lame-asses like Denis tried, anyone else he'd met here would have killed him faster than he could blink. Hell, Denis would have if he'd just shot instead of stopping to talk like that. That was one thing he'd learned already. Once a fight started, you fought.

You didn't stand around waiting to figure out what to do or hesitate. That got you killed. Just like staying here could get him killed. So no wimping out because of fear or not knowing what to do.

The elevator got to the top floor and opened into the empty lobby, so he walked to the door, not really having a plan. Brian had nowhere left to go. His home, that had gone away, stolen by Carla and the police, with some help from his stupid Infection. Being a guy no one would help, he knew, the state or social programs, even if they'd have helped an Infected woman, which they wouldn't. Also lacking were the skills to live in the woods alone while he healed enough to go and die. He didn't even own real clothes. What he wore probably belonged to the government.

Fuck.

Making his way outside, Brian looked around. He didn't even know which direction to walk in. That... probably didn't matter. One direction would work as well as another, most likely. Does it really matter when you don't have anything? He headed toward the front gate.

The guards stiffened when he got there, eying him suspiciously. They had rifles and side arms, and probably enough training to kick his ass without those too, gotten in a reasonable way, over years, training like a human, not some kind of machine intended to be used to destruction anyway.

"Uh, hi. I'd like to go out please." Shoulders shrugged as he spoke. He didn't have a clue what else to do. Were they here to keep him prisoner or not? He'd find out in a second.

Brian half expected them to start yelling and beating him. They wore uniforms after all. If they tried, they'd be in for a fight. He wasn't going to just go along with people trying to hurt him anymore, police, guards, or the frigging army. They could kill him and probably would, but they wouldn't do it without some struggle from him. Not this time. He readied himself, trying to stay relaxed until he knew for sure that the fight was coming.

The man looked at him, shone a light in his face, blinding him in the twilight, which almost made him fight right there, but he held back as the man almost immediately checked a computer screen instead of acting aggressively.

"Sure, Mr. Yi. Sorry... I didn't recognize you, being new and all. If you'd just sign out here?" The man at the window of the small, white gate booth pushed a clipboard out the window at him, and handed him a pen. He could barely hold it, but scratched something close to his signature anyway. Well, his signature if he were half-crippled and shaking after almost being killed. Twice. Good enough. The guard made a note of his name, printing next to where he wrote, but didn't say anything. Then they opened the gate - a single metal bar he could have just ducked under anyway - and let him outside.

Brian walked, the road, a simple two lane blacktop, went on for miles, with almost nothing on either side. Dark fell, but he kept walking, it being too cold to stop, he realized, knowing it would only get colder as night fell. The spring air smelled nice at least, a cool breeze ran through his hair, past his face.

He felt like crying, but couldn't tell why at first.

Sure, life wasn't fair and things sucked for him, but, news flash, he told himself, it hadn't ever been all that great. It couldn't be just that. He felt hungry and tired, but he'd felt that way for the last several weeks and he'd felt it a lot more strongly before than he did now. Missing dinner wouldn't make him weepy like this. Itch had used his ability on him, maybe this could be a backlash from that?

It hit Brian then what it really was... he'd trusted these people. He probably shouldn't have, not after everything, but he did.

Then they tried to kill him.

At least twice as far as real attempts went. So that left him with... nothing. He had nothing, owned nothing, and no one cared for him past what he might be able to do for them. On the plus side, the only plus side in all this, he had nothing left to lose at all either.

Even his life was already gone.

Hours later a car passed him, coming from the direction of the base. Then a half dozen more, all driving fast. Planes took off from the base, but then just flew off into the distance, roaring away to the east. After about five minutes Brian heard some sonic booms, six of them in all. Not even looking for him, he pouted, then laughed at himself for it.

Of course they weren't. Why should they?

He wasn't important and from a numbers perspective, they didn't gain anything from him being there. The money they spent training him might save a few lives, but they wouldn't get credit for it as an agency, most likely at least. Everything he did was kind of isolated so far. And who knew? Maybe he could take what he learned and run with it? Then they could save money and still get the same overall effect.

Win-win for everyone then.

He found a sheltered spot under some trees off the right side of the road, pine or something like that, and sat on the ground, his back against one of the bigger ones. It felt rough against him and probably sticky. Brian didn't care. He hurt too much to really sleep, and without the drugs they'd been giving him, that probably wouldn't come for a few days, which would suck, but he'd live.

Some time, hours later, he woke from a doze, his body almost comfortable for a minute, his mind fuzzy and a warm tingle running through his body as he sat against the tree. He came to just in time to realize it felt familiar.

"Oh crap!" He surged to his feet, muscles almost refusing to obey, and found himself standing in the middle of a parking lot, next to a little girl that looked about four or so.

A huge being, matte black and armored, seven foot tall at least, stood pointing its right arm at Brian. A green nimbus of light surrounded the hand, looking deadly.

The man yelled, his voice booming loud enough and deep enough that for the second time that day Brian felt like he might wet himself. For the second or third time that day Brian felt glad he was slightly dehydrated.

"If you want them back, I want twenty million in non-sequential bills, no dye pack, and no tricks. I'll kill them, I'll kill the girl too. First, a little demonstration!" The green glow grew brighter, Brian pushed the little girl and yelled "run" at her, then turned, ducked as low as he could, his left shoulder screaming at him from the cut Beatdown had put there, and rushed the man in front of him, trying to buy time for the little girl to run away. He didn't know who he'd replaced, but he didn't think he could take this guy.

No fucking way.

At least the little girl might have a chance, if whoever surrounded them could save her, get her away, before this being killed them all.

Fire seared down his back as he hit, connecting to cold metal or something much like it, the beam of light tracing down to the ground where it made a huge booming sound after a few seconds, the Earth itself exploding behind him. Brian pushed the man to the ground, somehow, using all his strength to make it happen and a bit of lucky leverage. That worked, but he knew that nothing else he could do would have any effect. Still, Brian could try and hold him there, giving the girl little more time, praying she could get away.

The man threw him off easily, sending him flying about ten feet into a clumsy and painful roll. Once he was clear... lightning struck, a blue flash that hit the black-armored man, if it was a man, in the chest. A half second later a familiar brown and black giant, even bigger than the one on the ground, moved in hitting the form faster than Brian had thought possible.

Lauren struck so hard that he could feel the blows where he sat looking on in a daze. Each one making a thumping sensation in his chest. He rolled to his feet, pain screaming at him from his back now, trying to back away. He moved slowly, but was really trying for fast.

A man dressed in black, or dark blue, ran up to him screaming, pointing a rifle. In white across his chest, the word "police" stood out, making Brian... furious. He'd obviously just tried to fight the bad guy, whoever he was, even if it hadn't done much, got burned or whatever and this fucker wanted to attack him? Didn't the guy have any common sense at all?

The black clad man aimed a kick at him, black boot coming in slowly compared to what Marcia had made him work against over and over again. Brian used his knee to block, a simple brush to the outside at just over waist height, and rushed the man, grabbing the weapon and knocking him backwards a few steps. The police thug had body armor on, and a face shield, but the bottom of that had been left open, probably so that he could breathe. He could see that, breathing was important. In this case it was a weakness.

Brian reached under it and tried to rip the man's eyes out, clawing at his face weakly with his half crippled right hand.

He seized the rifle as the man screamed in pain, knowing he couldn't work the trigger or aim it yet, he used it like a club instead. More police tried to attack him then, but a blue flash struck the ground between where Brian stood and the officers.

"Freeze! Your man fucked up and attacked one of our operatives. If you attempt to attack him, you'll die. Lower your weapons and step the fuck back!" A voice, male, one he hadn't heard before, boomed over a loudspeaker. Just to make the point stick, a blue flash hit the ground again, followed by a car that someone threw between them.

A police car. With red and blue lights still flashing. Upright though, so it wobbled on its shocks making a distressed noise.

"Uh, Proxy? If you could stop hitting the police officer his friends would probably feel more inclined to help us." This voice he recognized. He wondered for a second who the hell "Proxy" was supposed to be, but got it easily enough.

Him.

Yeah, it made sense. He took people's places when they couldn't, or at least shouldn't, be there. That was pretty much the definition of a proxy all right.

Lancaster walked over and gently took the rifle from his hands. He'd been using the back end of it to hit the man in the head, the helmet really, but he'd managed to crack it finally, if he could just keep hitting hard enough it should eventually let the gooey center out. Police pinata. Candy, brain. Whatever.

The man seemed dazed, but still conscious. Brian kicked him in the side of the leg, the body armor not covering there. He yelled at the man to get up when he did it as a joke. The other police stiffened, but no one tried to come any closer to him.

"I get it, Brian, but we don't have time right now. I don't know if you're in the loop, but a few hours ago, four hours now, ten children were kidnapped, each is the child or grandchild of some government official or another. That doesn't matter. What matters is that they're planning on killing one per hour until their demands are met. This one was a gimme. I don't know if they planned for this guy to die or what, but... Anyway, you're taking the place of this little girl's nanny."

Lauren walked over, along with a fairly normal looking man, about forty years old or so, who put out his hand. Brian shook it, not having a clue who the guy might be. His clothing looked military, but had no rank or insignia on it. The fatigues were tan and brown, not a color pattern Brian had seen before, not that he'd know anyway, he realized. All he knew about the military he'd seen on TV.

"Charles. Team two leader. Thanks for the assist, I don't think we could have gotten the woman out in time otherwise, maybe not the kid either. Can you get to the others?" The man didn't mince words, and didn't pretend he meant something else.

Lancaster shrugged.

"Fuck... Really, Brian shouldn't have been able to come here at all. And should have left already with that burn on his back. I don't know. Brian, can you do it? Can you find those kids? We can get help to you, maybe, but we don't have a single goddamn clue where they are. Wait. Just in case..." Lancaster turned and ran to a vehicle, everyone watched him, including the swat team members, though about half of them quickly returned to staring at Brian.

"You know... Proxy, that officer, he really was just doing what they teach them to do, find an unknown and subdue them if the situation's tense... I don't think it was personal or anything." Charles looked at him, his eyes a bright electric blue, literally glowing a bit while he spoke.

Brian nodded.