Hush (The Infected: Ripped to Shreds Book 1) (5 page)

BOOK: Hush (The Infected: Ripped to Shreds Book 1)
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Not for the first time Cin kind
of wondered if she was going to kill the woman some day. She hated her enough
that it felt right, on a certain level. Like a poor plan, too.

If she did that, then it would be
too easy to track things back to her. That she chose her marks at near random
had kept her safer than she might have been. They were all of a type, being
tall, and having dark hair. A lot of people would miss that however, being that
they were men. They also tended to be muscular, in a lean, nearly thin,
fashion. That would throw the cops off a lot, because people didn't punch
upward. They didn't attack people that were stronger than they were. Going and
killing people in her life
could
lead to her, eventually.

That might not mean anyone could
find her, because she was perfectly camouflaged as a small woman, but testing
that wasn't a thing she wanted to try.

So she kept moving, not
really
plotting the death of her boss.

Not unless the feeling came over
her to actually do it. If that happened, well, then it
would
be taking
place. She couldn't fight the
feeling
. The one that ordered her to
remove people from the world. Men, so far. Ones that looked a lot like her
father.

That part was hard for her to
understand, however. She didn't
like
her dad. Not really. That was the
plain truth. They'd argued a lot when she was younger, but that was about all.
He'd never hit her, or raped her as a child or anything like that. There hadn't
even been too many time outs or groundings. Still, the men she went after all
kind of fit the right profile. When she killed, the idea that she was killing
him, over and over, was always there. In the back of her mind.

The thing was, he was still
alive, and while they didn't talk she
didn't
feel the need to run off
and take him out. He lived up in Seattle with her mother now, so it wasn't like
that couldn't be done. The idea left her cold, and not at all intrigued.

It was, no doubt, due to the
infection. That crazy mixed up thing that gave people mental illnesses as well
as powers. The one went with the other, hand in hand. If you had an ability,
you had the crazy, too. Like the powers though, that could be really different
from person to person.

The others followed along with
her, moving halfway into the building, and going to the first door on the
right. It was a space for the public, but there was no reason why they couldn't
camp out there. Except for the fact that some day she and Wally might actually
be needed to get back to work.

That idea nearly got her to
laugh.

Like they were actually
needed
anymore. Eventually the city was going to realize that the library wasn't truly
useful any longer and shut the thing down. Probably cutting the funding first.
Then she'd be out on the street, looking for a job. Not that she needed much,
really. Flipping burgers would be enough for her, as long as she could keep
things together.

Honestly, there had to be a way
to use her power to make money, too. Playing poker or something where knowing
the right information would help. Sales could work for that, though she'd never
tried it.

Inside the room, which had desks
for studying at along two of the walls, and some reference books that had been
old about fifty years before, for the most part. There were some well worn
chairs as well, which the red haired man in the patched coat pulled around so
that everyone could sit. They were short a chair, but the man just waved them
into them, and moved back, near the wall, not leaning.

Balanced and focused. He was
running some kind of mental exercise for fighting. That was a constant in his
life, she knew. It was all right there. Floating above him clearly.

As she looked at him, she noticed
that
he
provided pictures and diagrams, too.

How-to advice, like you might
find in a manual. In this case it was about striking without damaging your
hands in particular.

It was weird. After all, she'd
barely noticed pictures before, in anyone, no more than a few times, now she'd
gotten them from two different people inside a few minutes. That
could
be about their sharp and fine minds, but she didn't think so for some reason.

Turning to Wally, she started to
read and focused on the words. They were mainly about his brother, who, while
not a friend of his, was a person he had a history with. Sure enough, as she
stared over his head, there were illustrations. In this case it was like an old
family photo album. So, unless one of these people had the power to make her
powers stronger, it was probably just her own ability. Just being amped up a bit.

Probably because she was worried
about dying. That kind of thing did get a person to focus.

That sounded totally within what
might happen, so she sighed and shook her head, getting Bridget to look at her.
There was a small smile on her face.

The girl was clearly aware of her
surroundings however, making a good guess about what the sighing was about.

"Because you were sent back
in here with the weirdoes?" There was a slap to her own chest then. A
gentle one, but marking her as the person that someone might want to avoid.

Cindy shook her head.

"Well, that
too
, of
course. Believe it or not, but Impulse and Proxy showing up isn't the
first
thing I wish for each morning. Probably because I don't know you, and how sweet
you both are, but you get the idea? I don't want to die, if I can help it. I
just noticed that I was seeing pictures and illustrations over your heads.
Wally's too, which isn't normal for me. I think it's the worry. That, or me
paying more attention than normal. Anyway, enough attention on me. We should
try to..." She looked at Wallace, knowing that they were there to reassure
him.

It didn't really seem like that
would help. He simply wasn't going to need a lot of hand holding over the idea.
Normally he wasn't a bad guy, but at the moment it seemed like he was being a
bit bloodthirsty. Glad that his own brother was finally out of the picture and
not going to hurt anyone again.

Rather than go on about that,
Proxy shrugged.

"So, Wallace... You're a
telekinetic?" That was based on the idea that his brother had been. A
powerful one too. A class four. That meant he could have killed a whole lot of
people that way. It was what classes like that meant.

Wally shook his head, but it
wasn't a denial really.

"Weather control. Useless in
a fight. I can make it rain or snow, be sunny, dispel hurricanes and that kind
of stuff. It isn't a good thing..." Due to the fact that anything he did
tended to mess with the climate in other places. It was a massive ability
really, but using it could screw the entire globe, in about a day or two.
Possibly forever.

Bridget nodded.

"I get it. So probably a
class seven?"

Wally shrugged.

"Except that I can't
actually do anything with it that
isn't
indiscriminate. I can make
floods happen, but other than kill innocent people..."

There was worry, Cindy could
tell. The idea was that a person that was a class three or above was supposed
to go off to the IPB. By law. At least the old ones. Proxy got it, and wasn't
worried, since they weren't really doing that any longer. It was one of the new
rules that he'd made up for them. After he'd saved the world from Braid. Funny,
but everyone had kind of just gone along with him on the idea, given all of
that.

Wallace however, seemed to think
he was about to be whisked away. Enslaved by the government. A thing that he
wanted to avoid. Mainly however, because he was pretty certain that all he
could do in the end would be to kill millions of people, in general and broad
strokes. That was pretty much evil to him. Powerful or not.

Cindy looked at all the words and
turned to him. After all, he was about to use his power, not meaning too, and
they didn't really need a blizzard. No one was ready for it, for one thing. Not
there.

"They don't want you for the
IPB. The policy has changed. I don't think you're wrong either. You have a lot
of power, but it isn't that useful. Maybe for stopping forest fires? Handling
tidal waves?"

She didn't know that was
something he could do, but there was a nod from Proxy then, having worked out a
lot more than seemed reasonable from very little information.

"That sounds like a plan.
Can we get with you, if something like that comes up? There are some things to
go over about that kind of thing, but Cindy here isn't wrong. The policy
has
changed. We only recruit from people that want to join up now. It really hasn't
hurt our recruitment yet, amazingly."

Wally nodded, looking away a bit,
but seemed to feel a bit better, as if he trusted the man completely. That
didn't seem correct to her, but she didn't say anything about it, because it
was
what was really going on.

That was too complicated for her,
so she ignored it and just kept reading.

What was being said was
fascinating. The important part was in three pieces however.

They had all come for a reason,
and it had to do with Proxy's powers telling him he was needed there. That part
got her to nearly freeze, since it was
all
about the killings in the
area. Her work was the reason for him showing up just then. The same place that
Brian Yi had come from. There were four of them there, too, for the holiday,
which was going to be spent with Proxy's mother and step dad.

Doug, who was Infected, and from
the area, too. That part she got from Bridget, who was fidgeting madly, and
searching Wally for clues that he was going to attack her. That idea had
actually been on all of their minds, because of the news about his brother. The
suspicion had been that he was Infected, after all, and might choose to blame
the girl for her part in things.

That he didn't, and probably
never would, was really clear however. He just hadn't liked Clark enough to do
that. Even if the girl had ripped his head off with her own hands, that one
probably wouldn't have been happening. That was good, in a way. The girl wasn't
to blame after all. Not for that.

So they all just stood there for
a bit, while she got the other things she needed from them. The bit about them
kind of being there for her
was
powerful... But they weren't. Not
really. They were there to try and find a serial killer.

They also weren't taking that too
seriously. They thought it was probably just some crazy, but normal, person.
Not Infected. That meant they weren't allowed to get involved.

In five days they'd be gone.
After the holiday had ended.

The best news however was that
none of them were telepaths. They weren't even real investigators. Impulse even
figured that the whole thing was just an excuse to get a free vacation at
government expense.
She
was there to visit relatives, and get in on some
free food.

Also, she was starving, at the
moment. She pretty much always was, it seemed. The red and gold glowing letters
said that. Giving way more information than that kind of thing did, day to day.
That probably had to do with her current desire to know about them.

Cindy nodded and waved at her,
slowly, not wanting to die. The kid was a combat vet known for striking first.
Everyone in the world probably got that about her. So making fast movements
about her wasn't a great plan.

"You should go and get
something to eat. Is that good with you Wally?"

He looked at her strangely, but didn't
mistake her meaning. He got that she was trying to get rid of them. So did the
others, it was clear, but Brian nodded.

He looked over at the small red
head.

"Good plan. We... We should
all get together later? For dinner? I know it seems a bit weird, but..."
He looked away, not making eye contact with her, in particular.

For a moment she was worried that
his power had clued him in about her, but it wasn't that. She could read the
words, after all.

No, he just thought she was cute
enough to date, and that she
might
not be too anti-Infected to give him
a shot. The whole being one herself thing being kind of a sign that she might
be more open minded that way than a normal cute girl would be expected to
manage. There was real hesitation however. Due to the lousy relationships he'd
had in life so far. Pretty much all of them, actually.

Plus, there were things he wanted
to work out, like how Clark Clarkson's little brother had ended up in his home
town. Working at the same library he used to go to. He figured he knew, and an
image of a rather nice looking woman with dark tan skin, and a long black and
gray braid came to mind. She was fit and looked Native American to Cin.

Tilting her head she made a
guess, which had to seem totally wrong.

"Braid?"

The guy just nodded. After all,
he was used to people reading his mind, so got the general idea. He also didn't
care that much about it.

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