(The Push Chronicles (Book 2): Indefatigable (9 page)

"I didn't know that," I admitted, finally.  "That alone is food for thought."

"Ah," Archer said, brightening up.  "Master Brooks gave me some instructions to make sure you eat.  Something about calories and malnutrition, though I have no idea what that means in conjunction with you, Milady.  My specialty is machines, not biology."  He put his helmet back on.  "I shall return."

I resolved to let this all sink in and nap on it.  I was fatigued enough that sleep was starting to win over the pain and, well, I had many new variables to consider.  Not to mention the current vampire-terrorist difficulty, assuming we hadn't just staked them all.  I didn't believe that for a second.  With that pleasant thought, I settled my head into the rough pillow and closed my eyes.

For about thirty seconds, anyway.

"Ssserioussly, I didn't think he wass ever going to leave."

Chapter 10 Scale

"What the hell, Meds?" I said, forcing myself to sit back up.  "You of all people -"

"Sssussh or he'll come back," Medusa hissed.  "I wouldn't have woken you if I didn't think it wass important."  The snake-woman didn't look so hot herself, despite her regenerative powers.  I wasn't entirely sure how a snake's scales could look pale unless it was me transposing the real woman with the outer shell.

"Well, okay."  I rubbed my eyes.  "What is it?"

"Why did they want to take you alive?"  That was something of an elephant in the room that I had been ignoring until I could analyze it more.  I hadn't been sure if anyone else had picked up on it, after all, so why start the engine of the worry train yet?

"I honestly don't know," I replied, pulling my knees up to my chest.  God, I needed a shower.  "We could start with the obvious: as the face of the Pushed Rights movement, I would make a great subject for an on-air execution."  Medusa's snakes hissed in disgust but the woman herself had a thoughtful look, absently chewing on a claw tip.

"No, I don't think ssso."  When I glanced at her for clarification, she continued, "Thesse are ultimately Americansss and the public here doesssn't like that sssort of thing, no matter the sssubject.  They want their friendsss and neighborsss to join their causse, not denounce it."

"You're probably right," I agreed.  "That's what really bugs me about the vampire thing.  There's no way the Hogs could have or would have voluntarily signed up for that.  Most of them are religious nuts after all."

"The very idea of turning yourssself into an ssoulesss beast iss anathema to thossse kind of people, yesss," Meds said, crossing herself.  "Didn't you sssay that whatever wasss the firsst one was hidden in an arms crate?"

"Yeah.  We can assume the first ones were turned involuntarily.  Maybe all of them.  We might want to look at the theory that, no matter what the uniform is, these guys aren't part of the Hogs anymore and are working for a different master."

"That'ssss not a bad theory, asssuming whatever they find at the bar backsss it up.  It ssstill doesssn't explain why thisss myssteriouss firssst vampire wantsss you alive."  I had a shiver run up my spine as a new idea came to mind.  "
Madre Dios
, that's the bad thought face.  Ssspit it out, Indy."

"Well," I sighed, "you guys are Pushed, right?  And, technically, these vampires are Pushed, so we can make a broad assumption that you guys can't be turned.  You can't be double Pushed."  I raised a hand to halt any interjections.   "I know we don't know that for sure, but it makes for a good working theory.  Now, it isn't an unknown factoid that I'm not the same as you guys.  Any Pushed can tell instantly, after all.  What if Mister Number-One-Vampire wants a super-vampire and figures I'm the only one that could fit the bill?"

"Either that or he jussst wantsss to hit on you like everyone elsse."  Medusa flashed a fanged smirk at me.  I rolled my eyes.

"I guess that tells me how long you had been listening in," I muttered.  "Look, I really do not want this kind of attention right now."  I rubbed my temples; there was a headache coming on to top all the rest of my aches and pains.

"I know it'sss a pain in the assss, but you kind of brought it on yourssself to sstart with didn't you?" Medusa asked.  "If I had to peg a guessss, you approached Ex not the other way around."

"Well, yes, but - " I started and then stopped.  "How do you even know about that?"

"Come on now,
chica
," she chided, "I'm not ssstupid and I'm your bessst friend.  The othersss might be too preoccupied to have noticed, but I wassn't.  I alssso noticed when it ssstopped."

"If this turns into 'You ssshould give him a sssecond chance', I will get off this bed and slap the shit out of you."  The Five were very tight and, as I said, there was always a subtle distance between them and me, even in my friendship with Medusa.  She started to laugh in reply, her snakes dancing in amusement, before she managed to get a clear statement out.

"No, no, not that.  I can't know what sssoured between you two.  I jussst hope you two work out the sssore ssspotss ssso there isssn't thisss conssstant tenssion.  Underneath it all, I think we're all friendsss, at the end of the day.  Maybe even family."  I could feel a frown creep on my face and I looked away from my friend.

"Maybe, Meds.  Maybe not.  I can't help but feel that there's always going to be a space between me and, well, you guys.  Hell, I feel it with normal people now too.  And Archer, the same deal."  I scratched at my scalp, trying to massage out the growing headache.

"Heavy isss the head that bearsss the crown."  Medusa laughed a little.  "Not literally, of courssse, but the burden of a great sssecret isss no lessss.  I can't help but think about what it isss you know sssometimesss.  I'm pretty sssure I know, but I don't want you to confirm it."

"Don't worry, I won't."

"You told Ex, didn't you?"

"I did and I did it for stupid, petty reasons."

There was a few minutes of silence as that hung in the air.

"Definitely never tell me then," she finally said.  "I don't want that hanging between ussss."

"I promise I never will."

"One thing, before Archer getsss back, I heard him tell you about hisss ssstory and how he feelsss about the passst."  Medusa laid back down on the bed.  "Not all of usss feel the sssame way.  Do you know how much I would love to leave thisss behind me?  To be normal and not have to worry about if the bad guysss find out about my family?  I even worry if I get angry and ssstare the wrong way or one of my sssnakes get ssstartled and bites someone I care about ... "  Her voice trailed off, but she didn't have to say any more.

"I guess that's why you're one of the only Pushed who I can get to use my name, huh?"  That brought a smile back on her face.

"
Sssi
, Irene.  I jusst can't bear usssing my own.  It'sss not like I can take this face off.  I'll never be anything other than Medusssa again."

For every point there was a counterpoint.  I shouldn't have been surprised.  The universe seems to create these things and physics is all about 'equal and opposite reactions'.  I sat there wondering what I would do if the time ever came and I had the choice.  It was a far different decision than it would have been at the start.

Medusa had dropped back off into sleep, something I followed with a short time later, but not until I had been forced to eat by Archer's return.  Not that it actually took any forcing, just the smell of any kind of food set off almost crippling hunger pangs.  I wasn't sure if the gusto with which I devoured the meal put before me was amusing or frightening with the mannerly Crusader, but I cared not one bit.  With the worst edge taken off my hunger, it wasn't a real shock to me that I passed out at the table.  Fortunately, the table was an infirmary bed, so it worked out well enough.

My sleep was fitful and plagued by flashes of shapeless nightmares.  Considering I had been in hand-to-hand combat with walking corpses, this shouldn't have been a surprise.  What was unusual was that there was a sense of anticipation in these dreams.  It alluded to an overwhelming sense of foreboding.

A gentle shake woke me.  Half-awake, I struggled against an imagined attacker only to be held down with an iron grip.  I opened my eyes as conscious action kicked in to see Hexagon hulking over the bed, his two 'real' arms holding me down with as much gentleness as the gentleman bruiser could manage.

"Indy," he said softly, "you're fine.  Just a bad dream, I reckon."  He flashed a big smile.

"Oh."

"Most of the others are workin' in the lab," he answered, as if my unintelligible mutter had been a question, "but, you know me, I'm not exactly cut out for that kind of work.  Balance your budget, sure, but forensics, naw."  He released his grip.  "I thought you'd probably want to get all cleaned up and such."

"Yeah, right," I mumbled as I sat up.  "Was that all of them?"  My mind had meant to insert actual nouns into the sentence to make it understandable, but somehow Hex seemed to figure it out.

"Well, that was all of 'em at that bar," Hex crossed his arms with a frown.  "Problem is all of 'em were normal not a few weeks ago at the latest.  It's seeming mighty unlikely that they were the ones who started this mess."  I nodded, swinging my legs off the bed.  Medusa was already gone.

"God, what time is it?"

"Eight thirty-three on the button," the big man replied.  "Everyone took a nap once we got back in from wrangling things under control then hit it hard and fast around eight-ish."

"Right, thanks, Hex."  I slid off the bed and onto my feet.  I still hurt all over, but it had turned into a dull, burning ache.  I still wanted to down a handful of oxycodone and wash it down with a pot of coffee.  First, though, I wanted to wash the feeling of inch-thick stink off of me.

"Anything else I can do for you?  If there ain't, I'm going to stop on down by PART HQ and see if they got anything out of Mr. Blanchard yet."

"No, I'm good for now, thanks."  With that, I marched upstairs to become human once again.

I was standing there, staring in the bathroom mirror.  Droplets condensed and ran down the surface from the blisteringly hot shower I had subjected myself to for a straight hour.  My stop at the sink was meant to be quick.  Brush the teeth, that sort of thing.  Now, who knows how much time had passed as I sat here, mulling over a vital choice.

The choice, on the surface, was a simple one.  I could take a Frankenstein combination of the remnants of my pain pills and be feeling in tip-top shape for what was sure to be another day of life-or-death events or keep clean and be at far less than a hundred percent.  Really, when lives were on the line, it seemed like a cut-and-dry thing.

The dawning reality was for more complex.  I knew just how addicting these drugs really were.  There were more important considerations than just 'pain or no pain'.  The simple fact that I felt entitled to rifle through the infirmary's dispensary last night was more than enough evidence that I had a problem.  What about the fever sweats with no fever?  That wasn't right.  How about all the times I had argued with myself about how I deserved just one more pill?  I was saving the world, right?  Did I even need to go on about the mood swings, irritability, and the defensive arguments?  I was a walking list of addiction symptoms.

I looked down at the small glass filled with a shallow bed of pills ranging in size, shape, and color.  A few remaining oxycodones, some prescription ibuprofen, a fair number of cyclobenzaprine, even a couple of hydromorphone pills I had managed to save from those broken ribs two months ago.  Who the hell was the woman who would throw this back like it was nothing?  Had I really come to this?

My hand was shaking as I put the glass away, knocking a few empty pill bottles down into the sink.  I couldn't let myself be that woman anymore.  There was more risk to myself and everyone by becoming her than by staying the woman I had been, no matter the suffering.

Still, my fingers lingered on the rim of the glass for several moments before I could force myself to pull away and finish suiting up.

Rachel Choi came up beside me as I walked through the Foundation toward the lab area, emerging from her own private office.  I never bothered to ask where exactly Rachel and Duane had wrangled the funding for the Foundation, though I suspected it came from their deal with the FBI, much as I suspected that the self-same FBI gave them funds for my 'upkeep' without my knowledge.  However they had managed it, though, the facilities here were pretty impressive even with my high standards working in academia.

"You look a little better, Irene," Rachel observed.  "You know you could have gotten more sleep -"

"Not in that suit with the blood, sweat, and dirt on it, no way," I interrupted.  "Very nasty."

"I have no doubt of that.  How are your injuries?"  She glanced at me as we walked with that appraising eye of hers.

"Not so bad, could be better," I admitted.  "I'm functional right now, that's what is important."  We walked a few more paces.  "Did you know that Epic holds freaking formal balls constantly for his army?  How can he manage that kind of crap?"

"While I certainly didn't expect our conversation to go in that direction," Rachel replied, "I can, actually, answer that question."  Taking my glance as a sign to proceed, she continued.  "Money is not much of an issue when you have the power to literally generate matter from nothing.  I wouldn't be surprised if he has an opulent palace headquarters where people can come to bow down to him."

"Why didn't I think of that?"

"The answer to your question or the idea to create a palace for people to worship you at?"

"Either."

"For the first, I would conjecture that your injuries and preoccupation with the current crisis supersede worrying about the exact origin of Epic's resources," she said dryly.  "For the second, you must simply be too humble for your own good."

"Well, glad to know the reasons are good," I muttered.  "So what's the situation?  What was there at the bar?"

"I was just about to check up on that myself," Rachel mentioned.  "I was just on the phone with Hexagon hearing what information the police had gotten from Blanchard."