Infected 8: Impulse: A Whole New Day (17 page)

Becky moved in beside her and put an arm over her shoulder. She felt real, since Chris was projecting that into Bridget's brain for her. It was a deal that they'd worked out, to keep Dharma alive. Kind of.

"Yeah. We can take the start of this plan from here. I know that Braid can't see
me
at all, and Penny should be safe that way. The telepathy thing is good, too. I'll work on organizing things from this end, since I can't slip up. Pen? Are you in?"

She nodded, and carefully didn't say anything, since she was visible at the moment. It was all makeup and skin dye, along with relaxation exercises that allowed her to do it. When she stripped that off, she just
couldn't
be seen. Her power could make it so that Braid wouldn't hear her too, most likely, but, of course, if she did that then they wouldn't even know she was there, making conversation hard. Hence Chris linking them that way, at need.

"I love parties! Hey..." She stopped and frowned, then shook her head a little. "Um, you know, shouldn't Marcia go back? I mean, I think she would survive that blast, even if she were there. If we strip her down and burn her hair all off, she could claim that she just didn't die. It would probably happen about like that, so that works. Otherwise this is going to seem fishy, when people start to do the math."

That was a point. Not a perfect one, but Bridget didn't mind Marsh too much, if she wanted to come hang out. Quartz wasn't
cool
, being too old and into her job, but she
was
good at it. More likely to be left in charge of the IPB than Doug or her, too. She was the Deputy Director, already, meaning she pretty much had that position down. Way better than she or Doug might have done in the same place.

Bridget rolled her eyes.

"Damn. Good point. Level too. Possibly at least. We need someone good at math to go over that part. Would her powers have gotten her out of things alive? I... really don't want Lauren around." The woman had meant well, perhaps, when she accused Prime of sexually molesting his daughter, but she
hadn't
backed off when Bridget told her it wasn't true. That part was unforgivable. Then she'd tried to kill him, and nearly succeeded, along with her Team Two buddies. Brian and Hobbs had stopped them, literally standing in the way, ready to die in order to do it.

On the good side, if Level was with
her
, then Bridget would have some good chances to kill her. That would be hard to do, of course, being she was a giant armored warrior. Not impossible however. She needed to breathe though, like they all did. She also couldn't do a few things with her clumsy armored fingers, like take tape off her mouth slit. She could poke a sharp thing in and get air that way, but if someone prevented that for long enough, she'd die. Suffocating, slowly.

Penny didn't say anything, just jogging out of the room like she had a mission suddenly. That left the rest of them just standing there, talking about inane things, for a long while. Finally, ten minutes later, as she fidgeted and tried not to think of hunger, the door opened again, to show Mary and Charity were there, with Doug right behind them.

Bridget clapped, once, getting everyone's attention.

"Time to go then. So, everyone keep me in the loop on how things are going, when possible? I'll try to be in touch every few days. Right now I need to get some food. It's time for seventh meal." That was a joke, since she just ate when she could. How people got by on three meals a day, she'd never really understood.

She expected some kind of conversation first, but blinked as the world went bright blue and then warped into the living room at Mary's returning to its full color version after a few seconds. Doug shook his head, amazed by the whole thing, but Charity pretended not to be all that impressed. She yawned, or at least faked one, which got Bridget to do the same, laughing.

"I can sleep on the floor." They had beds there, but she wasn't certain if there were enough. Mary didn't seem to think it would be a problem however.

"You may use the sofa in here. Now, you need more to eat? Douglas, is that required for you as well? Charity? I could rather use a small bite, now that I think of it. Utilizing my talents does tend to leave me with a need for such."

The others followed along and "helped" Mary make food, getting in the way more often than not. Bridget ended up drinking some frying oil first, then eating a large plate of quinoa, which was new to her. It tasted all right, so she didn't complain. Not that she would have, about food. It all went to the same place. Inside her tummy. The sacred vault where food naturally belonged.

Doug had a tiny portion, compared to her, and Charity did much the same, but Mary really meant it about being hungry after her effort, it seemed. She nearly matched Bridget, when it came to the real food consumed. True, there was a vast difference in actual calories, since oil added up fast, but it was still interesting. She hadn't been certain that using those kinds of abilities would use physical energy, for the woman.

After that, since it was pretty late, they all found something approaching beds. There were three in the house, but Elizabeth and Deidre normally shared. Mary had her own bed, being the householder, and since neither Doug, or Charity, wanted to wake up with her on top of them, she got the sofa in the front room. It was big enough for her, and while the lines from the cushions were a bit annoying, it wasn't
too
bad. Bridget fidgeted most of the day, true, and was a restless sleeper, but the state came to her easily enough. Once her eyes closed, they tended to stay that way, until something in the room changed.

In this case it was when Mary came out, ready for the day and looking prim, in her mom jeans and purple long sleeved shirt. It had a high neck and the sex appeal of... Honestly, Bridget didn't know. It just wasn't sexy. It looked efficient though, and like she was ready to work.

Bridget didn't want to get up, naturally, but she almost
never
wanted to do that. She did anyway, since she was in for a busy day. Stretching when she stood, her body silent, since nothing on her popped or cracked, like other people did.

"M'rnen." She yawned into the word, and then shook her head, trying to clear it. "I'll need to eat. Oil is fine. Gross, but you have a lot of that, and it's cheap. Then we what? Make the donuts?"

Mary blinked, but nodded after a few seconds.

"That would be fabulous. I wasn't certain if you'd be able to wake up yet. The others are fast asleep."

She nodded, mumbled that she needed a toothbrush and was given one, since they had a little store at the front of the property. That, and a quick shower were what she could do, not having other clothing around. Not that she
stank
. Her body killed bacteria on her skin, so she'd eventually smell like sweat, but never body odor. Not like poor Doug, when he got up. Or Charity, but she'd have clothing at home, since that hadn't been blown up, like all her things had been.

She felt a pang then, for all that she'd lost, but just drank most of a gallon of cooking oil and went to help with the morning tasks. They didn't know if anyone would be in early, so they got everything ready, just in case. That took a few hours, but it was a good thing they had stuff ready, since the Army hadn't brought any food along with them, for some reason. Honestly they had, actually, but it had gotten in that day, so nothing would be ready before lunch. She knew this because the flood of slightly desperate military people were all talking about it as they stood at the back counter, with her bagging up donuts for them, as Mary worked the coffee bar. That took more skill, and she just didn't have that yet.

Doug actually scurried to the till, about fifteen minutes in, calling out to Mary as he did.

"Sorry, I overslept. I've got this part."

"Thank you, Douglas." There was a perky, and slightly greedy, tone to the words, as the woman worked away merrily, deflecting a few casual advances from some of the young men that came in.

None of them were flirting with
her
, she noticed, but that could have been because she looked pretty young. Or, maybe that they were gay? Not that she had a problem with that, but the other option was that they were all anti-Infected bigots. It was
probably
that, since no one tried to hit on Doug either.

Then, this wasn't a dance club, and maybe they just wanted donuts more than a date at the moment? Mary was being pretty friendly, which could have some of them thinking she was approachable, where Doug was pretty much just working. Pleasantly, sure, but he didn't make a lot of small talk. Also, he wasn't a girl, and if they
weren't
into dudes, that might slow a few of them down.

When Charity came out, near nine, things had finally started to slow down. They needed to make some lunch sandwiches, but the Major, Cambrin she recalled, showed up before she could do anything to help with that. Along with two men in dress uniforms and a woman in a pants suit. It was a bright green and had a jacket with it.

She was slightly familiar, but no one that Bridget recalled off the top of her head. Older, being in her fifties, and dark skinned. A person that she kind of thought she recognized from the news.

She snapped her fingers then, getting it. They'd met, one time. At the Whitehouse.

"The Secretary of State. Um, Lisa Dentre. I don't recognize the others, except for Major Cambrin, since we met yesterday. Would you like some coffee? We have a few donuts left too, if you don't mind plain cake. The soldiers wiped out the rest of them. They're fresh though, and I hear that there won't be a lot of other food before lunch. The Army people have to set up a field mess." She managed to be matter of fact, and noticed that, for all that the military brass
had
come for them, they
hadn't
walked in with twenty special forces men at their back. Or super soldiers.

That meant they thought they were dealing with friends. Probably.

Lisa moved forward and hugged her, which was a bit odd. She did it back, since she liked hugs, herself.

"Miss Chambers, I'm so sorry for your loss." There were tears in her eyes, which got Bridget to do the same thing, even as she fought for control. It was just a sympathetic response, but it helped to sell the bit they were working on.

"Thanks. It just seems so unreal. All of it." She shook her head. "Coffee? Then we need to go over everything and figure out how we're going to handle it all. For right now, Tibs and I
are
the IPB. We're okay, toughness wise, but we can't be everywhere at once. Things could get bad, fast, if anyone figures that out."

For some reason the woman let go of her, and seemed shocked. The men didn't however. The older looking one smiled, in fact.

"
Damn
, I'd heard you were a fireball, but I didn't think you'd step up like that without some begging. This is a lot to ask anyone. I can guarantee you this, you won't be alone. We have a special ops group that we've been working on. The new IPB, since the old one is..." He stopped, and managed to look miserable for a second, clearly also pleased to be getting his way with the new group.

Bridget looked at him, as Doug closed from behind.

"Super Soldiers?"

The man nodded.

"Several kinds. Good, solid men and women. I think you'll be happy to have them as backup."

So, after a fashion, did she.

Chapter five

"It was the worst of times..." Doug said this to Charity, not her, but it was pretty clear that only one other person in the room knew the quote, and it sure as heck wasn't her. Mary seemed a bit clueless as well.

Bridget wondered at what point she'd stopped considering non-Infected humans as people? It was wrong to do things like that. A lot of people would have been surprised to find that her education had included things like ethics and morals, given how often she got in trouble, but it wasn't like right and wrong were
baffling
to her. It was just that a lot of people thought that minor things were wrong, even if they weren't moral issues.

Still, Bridget knew that there was something that was supposed to be conveyed, but that she just wasn't getting it. There was a strong temptation just to ask, but the Secretary of State, who was standing in a little hodgepodge shop, was trying to say something that sounded important.

"We, President Lawrence and his cabinet, we all understand if you two don't want to continue in your current line of work. This tragedy..." She seemed grim then, but not weepy. It was pretty clear that she'd been briefed on how to use their modes against them. It was also plain that whoever had done that didn't have a clue about Bridget at all. She was supposed to be flighty and jump when an avenue was suggested, or in this case, when the
counter
of that was given. Her impulse should have had her jumping in with them instantly, not standing back and considering the idea. People like her almost
always
went to the center when given two options, even if it didn't seem like it. Her real tendency was to think about the issue and then find the most attractive option. As a lost little girl whose entire life had just fallen apart, it would be tempting for her to find something to fill the void in her heart.

As if that
wasn't
going to be sex and drugs? These government goons didn't know her at all, it seemed. They should have read the reports.

Not that it mattered. She looked at the older General's eyes, looking for some sign of evil, or even hatred for her, but all she got from him was that he actually might want a donut. He kept looking at the ones left in the case, at any rate. For a second he seemed to let his gaze linger on Charity, who was tidying up, making sure they were keeping things clean for the lunch crowd. Plus, eavesdropping on their important and interesting conversation.

Who could blame her?

Bridget didn't try to act, letting her face go blank instead. Unreadable, nearly. Not as good as what most could have done, but a real effort was made.