Infected 8: Impulse: A Whole New Day (34 page)

Thinking about it, Bridget titled her head, and winked.

"I'll work on that. I don't want to be one of those boring and predictable people. You know, that always say the same three things no matter what's going on?" She put her hands on her hips, and moved to stand next to the table, then put her hand out toward the other girl, to shake. "So, what do you say? Do you want to be the first poster child of the new IPB?"

A soft and pale hand, which was perfectly normal as far as she could tell, touched her own, grasping gently.

"All right. I'll do it, if you think it will help?"

She didn't know if it would. It was all she had for the moment however, so smiled and nodded, lying her...

Bridget nearly thought
ass
off, but stopped that and decided to get to work. It was daylight and they had a whole lot to get done, and not much time to get started in.

Chapter nine

"I hadn't realized how much being in charge of the IPB was like babysitting. Tell me Marcia, did you ever consider stuffing me in a tiny room and only bringing me out for special occasions? Because I can see that as a viable option, suddenly. We just don't have any closets here." It had occurred to Bridget that morning, several times already.

That was just for herself, too. Worse, she wasn't even counting the people that she'd basically kidnapped the day before and forced into their new unit, as government slaves. Given what they had to be going through, most of them were being complete dolls, really. Even Phoebe.

The one that couldn't help swearing all the time. True, she apparently thought that Bridget's real name should be Bitch Cunt, but other than that, she was keeping her mouth closed. It was taking work to do it too, but the girl was trying and that really counted, as far as the IPB went. First modes were
hard
to get a handle on. So much so that most people just wrote off anyone Infected, the instant they found out about it. That part was playing out over the phones, too, since about half of their new people had kind of been asked to not go back home. To stay away and not make the family look bad.

The morning had been stressful for Impulse, since for the first time in her life she had to go and buy a
car
, which took a lot more work than she would have thought. She didn't know the first thing about doing that, and was buying a used van from a man that had finally learned that having a bed in the back of his "Love Machine" for sex wasn't going to work once he was out of his twenties. From the scent coming off of the old and worn pad in there, it hadn't worked even then, not very often. The thing was cleaner than most hotel rooms she'd ever been in, for instance. No bed bugs either.

There
was
paperwork though, which was one of her least favorite things. She was willing to do it, in order to get at the van, which sounded like it would hold up for a few months, or even more. The price was about half of her money, but it was in her own name. Bridget Chambers, car owner.

Then she had to get food for everyone, and it took a lot longer than the day before, since she knew that she needed to be more cautious about what she was spending, suddenly. She hadn't even gotten gas yet, or auto insurance, which was going to add up. In the end she had to get a hot plate and a rice cooker, as well as a lot of things that she wasn't certain they could do much with, lacking a good cook.
Ingredients
however, were a lot more cost effective than things that were already prepared. It took her math to double check that, but Warren and Mark had said as much, many times to her. More to the point, to other people, while she was in earshot. It had soaked in somehow. Now if only their secrets about what to do with the stuff had made an impact on her. She could cook a little bit, and follow the directions on packages, but that was about it. She'd kept meaning to get them to teach her, but hadn't gotten around to it yet. Now she was regretting it.

She bought vegetable oil in bulk, too, at a place called Cash and Carry. She started to feel slightly ill, thinking about it, seeing where it was all stacked, in the back room of the Sho. That was the space that Marcia had designated the office. The place of important business, and all that good and wholesome stuff.

The woman actually shook her head, but didn't smile about what Bridget had said.

"Not even once, Bridgie. You can be a pain in the rump, but there's normally a reason
why
. Half the time it turns out to even be a good one, from a certain perspective. We haven't even gotten to the hard stuff yet, with this new group. Politicians are the worst, if you can believe it. There was a reason why we always dumped that chore on Karen. Her compassion let her pretend they were human beings, and
not
psychopaths. They'll be coming in a few days too, in order to either try and have us shut down, or to take credit for the whole thing coming together.
Both
kinds are insufferable. Try not to hit any of them, if you can. That's hard to get away with. They all have those connections." She didn't seem tired, but there was a slightly subdued quality to the woman. It played out in her voice and the abstract look past Bridget's shoulder.

She could run for hours and not even feel tired, so that part wasn't some huge mystery. Marcia was simply sick of the grind. It had been her life for nearly twenty years, and even before that her job hadn't been all that different, Bridget didn't think. When the phone rang, the new Director picked it up, and seemed to be listening carefully for about ten seconds, then grimaced and spoke her reply a bit louder than was really needed.

"Trouble in Seattle? What kind?" She rolled her eyes, and then made a face at Bridget. "No, I mean combat class and what they're doing. Genders and names if you have it, so we can check our files." She looked around then, because they didn't even have a Playstation in the office. There was nothing more computer like either. Not yet. Even if they had one, it wouldn't have anything as advanced as
files
on it, not yet.

Saying that was probably habit, but it also made them sound a
lot
more on the ball than they really were. Any of the Agents would have known that however, which meant that Marcia Turner was talking to someone else. Who that was, Bridget hadn't bothered to listen to.

The voice on the other end of the line was tense, and sounded like a young man. If she were going to be polite and call a little boy a man. From what he was saying, she
had
to however.

"I tried to stop them, but I ended up with a broken arm. There's six of them... I guess, class three for four of them and one or two for the others. Strength, and speed, but one of them makes you see things. I could use some backup, if possible. If not... I'll have to go back in. They're working up to killing, I can tell. If they get into the rooms, it will be a bloodbath in here." Tense, but still eerily relaxed and calm, considering he was talking about going into
another
fight with a group of people that had already hurt him. Really, he sounded pretty damned badass, to tell the truth.

Marcia made a hard face.

"I understand. They're at your school? Monroe Elementary? We'll try to get someone there as soon as we can. Don't engage them again, unless you have to, to save someone's life. Evacuate the area if you can. Do you understand me, Timmy?"

"Yes. I'll try. Hurry, I... They're coming. I need to get out of here." Then the line broke with a click.

Marcia stared at the far wall, and shrugged.

"Fuck. I don't know what you caught of that, but Timmy there is just a kid. Not even Infected. There's a group of 'big kids' that have taken over his school. The classes are mainly in lockdown, but the doors aren't going to hold them for long. I'm going to get with the... Damn it, we have to get someone there
now
. We don't have anyone that can do it. What the hell are we supposed to do? That kid is going to end up dead because we aren't up to speed yet." Marcia rubbed her face,
hard
. Not that she'd feel it. That was just a habit, left over from when she'd been a real girl. Bridget didn't have things like that, since she'd been so young when she'd popped Infected. Her traits were all pretty well suited to who she'd always been.

There were no tears, but she gave Bridget, the only other person there, a strained look. Like it was all her fault. Which, after a fashion, it was.

If she had kept herself from being seen, and just done her job, then none of this would be happening now. No, it would just be a war going on, since no one would have been there to get things calmed down.

"Mary?" She might help them, to save kids. She hadn't whined the day before about helping out, had she?

"No joy, on that one. She took Brian and the Elcampayn kids to find that helpful alternate reality. They hadn't technically gone yet. They'll be at least a week. Maybe longer. What the hell are we going to do?"

There didn't seem to be an answer, but Bridget had an idea. It was a little risky, but doable, maybe.
If
she could get Christian Poures to notice her. That would take some skill, since she wasn't exactly a telepath herself. Not normally all that clear headed either,
or
calm, which meant that a certain super mind reader would most likely ignore her, when she wasn't spying in order to thwart her having a good time.

"We'll get Becky to go and see to it. She... Well, now that Brian is gone we may not be able to get to her at all, but she's a
ghost
, so if we can get her attention, maybe it will work?"

She was dead, that was true, but also linked to the mind of a powerful person that could project her into other people's heads. It wasn't exactly the same as having a physical person there, but she could
talk
to the kids that were being a problem. Slap them around a bit, if she tried really hard. Her super spirit powers had finally kicked in, Bridget knew, so she could move small objects and other cool things like that.

She sat down and closed her eyes, using all the skill that Hobbs had beaten into her over the last months, and then imagined Christian as hard as she could. It might be mental yelling, but it was probably needed just to keep from being blocked out. It took about fifteen minutes, but when she felt like she was close to being as deep as she was going to get, Bridget started in, trying to explain what was needed.

'
Hello? Bridget?
' The voice that came back wasn't one really, but it was clear and had a slight echo to it. The sound wasn't real or there, but still filled her entire being, it was so strong.

Bridget spoke out loud, trying to keep from making her own interior voice too loud. Christian hated that, or so she'd heard, over the years. Mainly from Karen.

"Hey, Becky?" She used that name, to identify who she was trying to get in touch with, without letting any bugs that had been put in place pick up on the fact that Chris Pours was still among the living. "We need someone to stop a school massacre. Monroe Elementary in Seattle. It looks like Proxy junior is there and going to fight the six Infected that are terrorizing them.
Again
. I hope this isn't too coded for you but we probably have listening devices in here by now. I just, we need someone there and promised Timmy that we'd help."

'
I see. Becky says that she's in. I'll send her to you when this is resolved.
' Then, just as fast as she'd come, the pretty heiress was gone from her head.

It was really the one saving grace of the woman, Bridget felt. She totally, and honestly, did
not
want to be in your head any longer than she had to be. It wasn't for moral reasons either, since the lady was nearly as big of a pervert as Bridget was. No, she just hated being near people that much. She was great at a distance however. Over e-mail she was practically a sweetheart, according to Penny. Nice, kind and generous to a fault. As long as you didn't make her be in the same room with you.

Opening her eyes to see Marcia looking at her skeptically, she smiled.

"She's going in. Becky promised to come by and see us, when she's done. If she can. There's only so much she can do though. I really wish we had television. I
bet
this is on the news."

Marcia looked at the front of the room, toward the door to the front area, which was closed for the moment. Not that a closed door meant privacy in their world, but it was about as close as anyone ever got at the IPB.

"I ordered that hooked up, but we'll have to wait for the military to leave, and let people back into the area. The local crews that do that work all live in Chester. If I heard correctly that should be today. No one really thinks that keeping people out will help anything. You should get with your friends from town and make certain they have what they need. Charity and... Studly, wasn't it?" There was teasing in those words, and Bridget had to agree.

"
Will
. Too bad his parents suck balls, isn't it? We
should
go and check on him though. I can drive a team over for that. Charity will want to go, too. Do you think I have time for all that? Not that I can do anything about Seattle from here, but..."

There was a soft grunt and a wave at the door. "Call them, first. We don't know if anything else is about to happen. We need to get fast transportation set up. I miss the supersonic jet already. Brian, too. Do you think Sinclair would be willing to stay on here for a bit? That bitchy girl too, with the healing power? I'm afraid if we let her go, someone else will try to pick her up. Healers have a habit of vanishing, especially if they're any good."

They all knew that one. Even the IPB didn't have any, or at least the old one hadn't. It was a fairly common ability, she thought, but the elite snapped them
all
up instantly when they could. It would be hard to protect Phoebe that way. Her power wasn't in the same power range as Elizabeth, but it was high enough level that they could use her.
Anyone
probably could, if they were sane and sweetened the deal with a soft bed, and plenty of cash.