Infected 8: Impulse: A Whole New Day (30 page)

"IPB! Stand down, this instant. If you refuse to comply, I'll have to use lethal force
. That
was your warning. You have ten seconds to start working with me. Remember, if you stand down
now
, you get a free Presidential pardon. That's nothing to sneer at. You need to stop killing people though, and be ready to pay for that. Probably by being part of the new IPB, rather than prison. I heard that you were already trying to save lives? It's good practice for later. We have openings." It made sense to her, but she kind of expected the man to attack her again.

Then she'd kill him. He had a buddy with him, it seemed, too. An old black woman that ran to the man's side, moving a lot more quickly than most octogenarians would have. She actually slid into place, almost skating on the sidewalk. Her body was naked, and looked younger than her face, but was strategically covered in pitch black shadows.

Bridget pointed.

"
That
looks incredible. Now, what do you say? Are you going to join me, or do you want to fight? Join
my
side and you get cookies..." She knew that she sounded insane, but couldn't help herself. It was just one of those situations where being sane and good wasn't going to help anything. No one else ever saw things that way, but it happened. All the time.

Following the rules didn't work when the rules were
stupid
.

So she decided to try making her own.

"Eh? We don't really have long. We need to get off to Chicago, if you're going to work with us. There's a war going on there, and we have to stop it."

There was a moment of silence, and finally a sob from the man, who'd stopped glowing, showing that he was a white guy, or possibly Hispanic.

"We just tried to save that girl! They attacked her and we told them to stop. Now you're going to kill us. IPB..." He started to glow again, but one of the Doyle's moved to stand in front of her, his pretty clothing also being purple. That and green.

"Nay! Do not be misled by past thoughts! The mistress has offered pardon for thy actions, if you but cease and join us in our quest to save this land from Timberland attack. We bid you come, be friends."

The two on the other side looked at the group, and seemed confused. That was probably a good thing to consider, she realized.
She
was acting strange, and doing unexpected things. She'd have blamed Proxy's powers, but it was probably just her, if he was really out of that reality. No one was strong enough to directly affect people in other
worlds
, were they?

"He's right. If you want to live, please raise your right hand and repeat after me?"

For the second time that night, it worked, and the Doyles really helped sell the move too, because the
second
the two muttered that they were deputies, the instant it was said, the men in their fine clothing, each different than the other, all looking like they went to the same tailor as Willy Wonka, they turned away, watching for outside attack. It said a lot about their world, she realized.

Apparently there, if you gave your word, it was good. No questions asked, and none needed.

There were police there, and for some reason they didn't seem inclined to help or join up themselves. Probably due to the fact that a lot of them were already dead, having been fighting with these two. They, naturally, weren't going to be pleased when they realized that their dead friends had just been casualties because they'd thrown in on the criminal side of the fight they came across.

In short, it was a good time to get them all out of there.

"Mary, can you get us to Miami?"

The world turned blue, but again, they were there almost instantly. This time the fight went differently, since it was a long battle line of police set up against four teen girls. The police here however were working as a solid unit, and giving about as good as they got. The Infected here weren't fighting that well, compared to her two new friends. Purple Light and Shadow. She didn't have time to get their real names yet, she decided.

"Stand down! Cease fire! Everyone!
Now
!" She walked out into the middle of the street, getting shot and hit by a thrown car, but she wasn't injured. Knocked around a bit, since physics still worked, but everyone stopped, to stare at her.

She repeated the offer of a pardon, and was promptly attacked by a blonde girl that simply appeared right next to her, trying to shoot her with what Bridget was willing to bet was a police issued pistol. The girl died, choking on her own blood. It had been reflex, but Bridget lashed out the instant the girl had pointed a weapon at her, and crushed her throat. It had made a crunching noise, and then she fell, gasping herself to death.

"Sinclair!" A tiny girl that was still bigger than Impulse was by six inches ran at her, and nearly died herself. She seemed pissed off, but her goal was the fallen girl beside them. She knelt by her, dire hatred in her eyes. Then she kissed the dying girl. It was loving, and passionate.

It also got the other girl to start breathing, and after a few minutes, stand up. Not totally well, but alive and breathing.

"Fuck." She also croaked like a frog. "What the hell? No one's that fast. Why aren't the police shooting us? They came and tried to take Wren, so we had to fight. They claimed that she'd been menacing people, but she
can't
. She'd really quiet and nice,
all the time
."

Bridget shrugged.

"I get it. A gentle first mode? Well, she can still join up. We have phones to answer, or will soon. Public to meet and greet, that kind of thing. Here's the deal. Come with us and stop fighting here and you get a full pardon for it. From the President. If you start fighting again, I'll be forced to kill you. I mean, unless
I
tell you to. If your first mode isn't something you can control, let me know now, and we'll hold you back from the rest of the combat." She looked at the healer, who flipped her off.

"Fucking cunt, bitch." She looked at the others and grimaced. "Assholes."

Bridget grinned. It was nasty, but not an attack.

"What's that, some kind of Tourette's syndrome?" She managed to sound curious, not accusing and the one she'd nearly killed, who'd teleported next to her, nodded.

"Yeah, she can't really help it. She isn't violent though." There was a hard swallow, but her voice still seemed to be getting clearer, as if the healing was still going on.

Wren, the bird looking one, had feathers on her head, and an honest to god beak. No wings however, but she did have neat black claws. The fourth girl was... Just kind of plain. She'd been the one that had thrown the car at her.

It had hit her, too. That was pretty good aim. Bridget didn't exactly present a huge target.

"What's your deal? First mode and power, I mean?"

"I'm just always a bit sad. I don't know if it's that thing. A mode. I can make any metal I touch do what I want."

They didn't have time for a lot more info unfortunately, and she got them to agree to join up. Wren, who was, as they'd been told, very
nice
, admitted that her power was really small. It was, silly, too.

"I can sing really well. Um, like this?" It was
pretty
, and she had a significant range, but it wasn't going to help her in a fight, was it? If Tobin ever got to do another record, this was someone to put on it with him, though. She was nearly as good, and since almost no one was, they'd be able to do some amazing things song wise, she bet. That would take the man coming back from the dead, of course, but eventually that might happen. When they won the war.

They moved from place to place after that, with her only having to kill about half of the people they faced. The Doyles and Zevros helped too, none of them seeming too concerned with her methods. They were basically join with her or
die
, but right up until they got to Chicago, they pretty much worked. Yes, some of the people didn't calm down in time, or didn't even try, but a lot of them did. More than she ever would have thought.

Leaving her with a tiny army of new recruits.

When they got to Chicago however, the city was on fire. It wasn't just a war zone, but an
insane
one. There was no chance to offer a pardon, or any other sort of bribe. No threats either. It was, she realized, simply time for her to be what everyone had always feared she would in the end. A killer. She'd taken lives before, that day even, but suddenly it was
all
she was doing. Just moving from one person, to another, taking away handguns and rifles, and executing anyone that didn't stop fighting instantly. She used her force blasts, which got stronger as she went along, stripping away bullet proof  body armor like it was tissue paper and cutting through every kind of force field it encountered. She didn't know how many died at her hands, but an hour later her new crew was able to work cleanup. That had to mean that a lot had gone down in front of her, to get things calmed down that quickly.

It was a dismal sight, but the fighting had stopped, since people were simply afraid to move now. Anyone that did was killed. By Impulse.

"Go to your homes, or at least get off the street! We can't protect you now, so hide! Flee if you can, lest doom befall you! Turn away from the plotting of the Timberland witch! Your savior from the IPB has come to rescue you! Now it is incumbent upon you each to save yourselves, so flee! Run and do not seek to see what follows behind, I beg of you!" It was Chatty the Doyle that said all that. He looked to be about thirty or so, but the words worked, which was amazing. Who would have thought that anyone would understand them? Then the basic message wasn't that hard to process, was it? Run and hide? Check.

People were already prone to doing both of those things. Telling people to do what they already kind of wanted to was normally pretty effective.

In the end they stopped the fighting, everyone else repeating the basic message, and Bridget killing everyone that couldn't get away fast enough, or who looked hostile. She honestly tried to keep it to that second one. Finally it was Mary and Chatty that approached her. The man went to his knees, and bowed his head.

"Mistress, are you well? Does the casting of battle take you beyond reason?"

"Sorry? No. I'm good. I need to get cleaned up. There was too much wasted life here, tonight. Now, I need to talk to the President. After a shower, if I can get one. Would it be all right if we check in at the Sho? I... probably have to be yelled at for a while." Offering Pardons... It was going to cost her, she didn't doubt.

A whole lot.

Worse, she'd kind of lost it for a while there. She'd taken out at least two hundred people, killing them without mercy. She'd barely been aware that she'd been doing it at the time. No matter who they were, Infected, normal or even the police, if they tried to stop her, they got hit. Most of her new people had just
talked
to people and gotten them to calm down and leave. She'd been... Strange. Not angry or anything like that, just mechanical in her destruction. When people hadn't done the right thing, to her way of thinking, she ended them. Pouncing with speed and grace, or a wave of her energy carrying hands.

Shivering now, from a need to replace all she'd used up, she got Mary to take them back to the old shoe shop. They actually came out in front of the building, the glass door and big windows showing that Marcia and Doug were both in. She had... Counting she shook her head. There were sixteen of them in all. Seven aliens, plus Mary, herself and seven new people. They'd picked up a strong looking man with a bald head and brilliant green eyes, in L.A. to round things out. He'd been looting, actually, but was willing to take a pardon in exchange for not having to die.

Because when you had the power to walk through walls, why spend money on anything? She could sort of see that one too, and had fought to not agree with the man when he'd said it.

They all followed her inside, not responding to the empty space inside, which was good, since not having much, other than a few folding chairs and a card table that had come from somewhere, meant they all fit. It wasn't a huge space, with nineteen people in it.

"Hey Marcia. I don't suppose you could get the President on the line? I've been all over the Country offering people pardons tonight. If he doesn't back me, then we're lying to everyone and claiming that none of these people were there tonight. They were all here, getting things set up, no matter what the cameras say." She grinned and looked at everyone, her stomach growling a bit. "So don't worry, you're IPB now. We have your backs."

Marcia nodded.

"I have a number I can try. I was holding off, but... Yeah. Let's give it a shot?  Now, you have everyone you collected here? Some of them seem... Different?"

That got Wren, the bird girl to tense up and hunch in on herself, but it was clear to everyone else that
she
meant the Doyles and Zevros.

"Oh, right! Introductions then. Zevros Wyrdcraft is Mary's son. My uncle? These others all have names I think, but I only know that they're all of the Doyle family. They swore in as deputies, so, you know, they're under our protection while they're here. They
really
helped get things calmed down tonight. Good fighters too, but not hung up on it. They used their words, and saved a lot of lives that way. It was impressive." She meant it, and that showed, she thought, since several of them bowed in her direction. Just polite ones though. Not begging for their lives. That looked different, she bet. Lower to the ground and humble. These looked courtly. Like something from television.

She looked at the others, and sighed.

"I didn't get names for anyone else. These are the ones that could get a hold on themselves. Some of them killed people, but it was all in self-defense. We should get a list of names. Um, Doug, Ken, could you two do that? I have to shove food into my face now. There should be enough for everyone, if anyone needs something?"

"Fuck you!
Turnip
slut!" It was the Tourette's like first mode girl. Bridget explained.