Infected: Die Like Supernovas (The Outlaw Book 2) (7 page)

I texted Cory,
I don’t need a ride home. I’m all good.

We were flying! At least that’s what it felt like. The bike gave the impression of riding a strong blast of air. It was fully electric and very quiet, other than a high-pitched whine when I really started picking up speed. Hannah’s arms tightened around my torso when I opened up the throttle on the highway.

I could still feel the wind on my skin that night when Tank texted me. Or, texted the Outlaw. I was scanning my Twitter feed, reading updates about two more high-velocity wax bullet shooting victims. The Sniper was getting more creative. Tonight he shot someone inside a restaurant through the front door, and he always hit them in the same place: the right shoulder. Every time, dozens of victims, either the front or the back of the right shoulder, pow! The Sniper’s streak was very impressive.

One tweet caught my eye. NBC News tweeted that their military consultant confirmed these strikes were obviously the work of a professionally trained military shooter.

Trained shooter…

Whoa! Of course! How had this not occurred to me before? Carter told me the Infected Shooter’s plane landed a few weeks ago, right before these shootings started. I’d been so dense, not putting the clues together. The LA Sniper
was
the Infected Shooter! Like Carter, he probably hung out on rooftops. He’d spot a victim, shoot them, and then disappear. The Infected weren’t supposed to draw attention to themselves; how was the Shooter allowed to do this and I couldn’t even wear a mask? He must be bored or something, playing these pranks, just wasting time until…

Until it was time to kill me.

The back of my neck turned icy. The professionally trained sniper NBC News had referred to was here for me. Maybe I should start wearing armor. That’s when Tank texted the Outlaw.

>>…Got another big date coming up, pajamas. And she’s going to pay for your sins. I’m going to seduce her, confuse her, use her, and abuse her. All for you.

I saw red. I trembled with rage. I couldn’t make my hands work. Deep inside my skull another headache rumbled.

>>…And then? And then I’m coming for you.

>>…I haven’t decided if I’m going to drown you, cut you into pieces, beat you to death, or blow a hole through you with a shotgun while I make my date watch.

Great. Now two people are going to shoot me. That settles it.

I texted Lee. But I didn’t text him from Chase Jackson’s phone. I texted him from the Outlaw’s phone, like I had once before.

Kid. I need help. I need a bullet-proof vest. Can you get me one?

The reply was instantaneous.

>>YES!!!! THE OUTLAW IS BACK BABY!!! I can get you a ballistic vest, no problem!!

I grinned, picturing Lee’s face tomorrow at school. I decided to have some fun.
But you can’t tell anyone. Total secret.

>>YEAH YEAH SURE!! How soon do you need the vest? And what will it be used for?

I need the vest ASAP. I’m going after the LA Sniper.

>>I KNEW IT!!! WOOOOOOOOOHAAAAAA!!!

That might give me some protection from the Shooter and Tank. But it wouldn’t protect Katie.

Maybe it’s time she met the Outlaw.

In the past few months, I’d jumped off a five-story building, been shot at, played in a championship football game, been kidnapped, chased by a pit bull, and participated in several fistfights, including battling a maniac on top of a building while helicopters fired warning shots at us.

But I had never been more scared than I was now, standing outside Katie’s door. She lived on the bottom floor of an apartment complex, and the rear sliding glass door opened directly into her bedroom. I could see movement through her curtains. The California January night was cool and quiet but I was on fire, pulse racing. I’d spent a significant portion of the last few years in her bedroom, talking, watching TV, doing homework, playing on our phones, laughing, secretly adoring her. She was perfect.

I took a deep breath and put on my disguise: the ski mask, and the bandana tied Rambo style. I didn’t know what else to do. Katie didn’t know Tank was her kidnapper. Katie didn’t know her date was planning on hurting her, both emotionally and physically. And I couldn’t tell her. Even if I could, she wouldn’t believe me.

I was in love with her. I couldn’t just
watch
her get hurt.

I’d debated calling her from the Outlaw’s phone, but that number was getting passed around too much. Natalie, Tank and Lee all had it; that was more than enough.

Before I could chicken out, I unscrewed the light bulb in the outdoor sconce and knocked on her door.

“Here we go,” I sucked in. A flurry of movement, the filmy curtain pushed aside, and a beautiful smiling face appeared. I loved that face. She screwed up her eyes, peering through the glass as her hand futilely worked the light switch. Then…recognition. She gasped. I held a finger to my mask to silently shush her. She nodded her head, said, “Okay okay okay, oh gosh, okay okay, oh my gosh,” and then the curtain fell back into place. I couldn’t hear her but I could read her lips.

“This is a terrible idea. This is stupid. But…kind of awesome,” I said to myself. Chill bumps covered my whole body. I couldn’t wait until she came outside. I winced against the pounding in my head.

She came back, brown eyes still wide, and held up her hand. “Give me two minutes,” she said, and then vanished. Back again in five seconds, “Okay? Is that okay?” I nodded. Her voice was almost entirely muted by the glass. “Oh my gosh, okay!”

When she finally did come out, my breath caught. I’d never seen this outfit before. She wore a cute little white tank top that…wow. She better NOT wear that shirt for Tank. Her hair had been brushed and she smelled intoxicating. Time itself stopped and held us frozen. I wasn’t sure I could move.

Even though I
was
the Outlaw, I was also intensely jealous of him, that Katie would dress like this when he visited. I kind of hated myself. And I wasn’t real happy with
her
either. Why did she never wear this around Chase Jackson?

I backed beyond the tall evergreen shrubs into deeper night, drawing her after me.

“Is it really you?” she asked, her voice a tremulous whisper.

I nodded. I reeeeally didn’t want her to recognize me. I was able to creditably disguise my voice, with help from the mask. To aid in the deception, I’d drawn a few designs on my neck with a black sharpie that peeked above the collar of my shirt, like tattoo camouflage. The more differences I could manufacture between the Outlaw and Chase Jackson the better.

“Are you…are you mad at me? You look like you’re angry with me,” she said. I was about to reply but a fresh wave of pain hit my brain and took my breath away. I shook my head, trying to loosen the tendrils of discomfort. Whenever my pulse started to race, my headache worsened. “Then why are you here?”

“I’m here for you,” I said. I can make my voice
really
deep. Sometimes when I wear the Outlaw suit, I sound larger and I feel larger too. “I haven’t seen you since that night.”

“The night on the rooftop,” she nodded and hugged herself. “Thank you for finding me.”

A thousand responses ran through my head. You’re welcome. My pleasure. Anything for you. Any time. Don’t mention it. Let’s make out. None of them seemed to measure up to the Outlaw’s required gravitas. So I said nothing. I’m a genius.

“I’m glad you came,” she smiled. “I’ve been hoping you would.”

Again, another bout of agony. This time my knees buckled. Carter was right…the headaches were going to kill me.

“Are you okay?” Katie cried, reaching out a hand to steady me as I lowered to the ground. This was not going well. The Outlaw isn’t supposed to fall over.

Then she touched me. My neck. As if by magic the pain lifted. She placed her hand on my shoulder and her skin touched mine and every muscle in my body relaxed. Muscles I didn’t know I possessed unclenched and my head cleared.

“Yes,” I said, marveling at her. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t appear fine,” she said, examining me in concern. “I mean, you do. You’re gorgeous. But…you look unwell.” She’d never seen the Outlaw’s face but he was gorgeous? I hated that guy. “I saw the kidnapping video,” she said and she lowered to her knees beside me. “Did they hurt you?”

“Yes,” I lied, thankful for the excuse. “But they won’t anymore.”

“Who are they?”

“It doesn’t matter. That’s not why I’m here. I want to warn you,” I said.

“Warn me? About what?”

“The guy that kidnapped you is still out there.”

She nodded.

I continued, “Have any memories surfaced about his identity?”

“No,” she shook her head, looking spooked. “I wish I did. Do you expect him to try again?”

“I do,” I said. “I don’t want to frighten you, but it’s important.”

“Why me?” she asked, and to my astonishment she wrapped her hands around my arm and rested her head on my shoulder. “I’m scared.”

“It’s because I returned your phone a few months ago, in September. The thief is obsessed with me now, and he considers you a link.”

“You remember returning my phone?” she perked up. “I presumed you forgot all about it.”

“I remember.”

“Why
did
you return my phone?” she asked, her smoldering eyes practically melting my mask away. “And why did you rescue me? How did you know where to find me? The police asked me that about a hundred times.”

“It’s a secret.”

“Pretty please tell me?” She looked up at me through her lashes, which was a super effective strategy.

“I’ll tell you one day. If I can. Until then…keep safe. Don’t go out with anyone you don’t know. Stay with your friends and family,” I said.
And don’t go out with Tank
!!!

She nodded and said, “Okay.”

She was no longer touching my skin and my headache was returning. Experimentally I took one of her hands and pressed it against the exposed skin between my glove and my sleeve. As our bodies touched directly I experienced the same calming effect. The pain drifted away.

“What are you doing?” she laughed softly.

“Sorry,” I said. “I…don’t touch people often.”

She examined me for a long time and I was glad it was dark and I had a mask to hide behind. My face was burning in embarrassment.

“Take off your gloves,” she said, tilting her head to the side. “And you can touch me with your hands.” I wanted to do that so bad I was trembling. But that could lead to disaster. I said nothing. She touched my neck with her fingers. “How old are you?”

“Not much older than you.”

“Perfect,” she cooed. I recognized that voice. She used it to tease me sometimes when we were alone. I took her hand in my glove and held it. “You don’t have to be lonely. Not with me.”

“Lonely?”

“Isn’t it lonely being you?” she asked. We were completely hidden from the rest of the world. Just us.

“A little,” I said. “But aren’t we all a little lonely?”

“All us superheroes?” she smiled.

“There are no superheroes,” I told her. “Just us regular people. And I think we’re all lonely.”

“You’re a hero to me, you know,” she said, and she played with my hair. “I don’t remember that night. But I’m still grateful.”

“Do you have friends?” I asked cautiously. This was dangerous territory. I wanted her to talk about Chase Jackson.

“How much do you know about me? When I imagine you, you’re always keeping track of me from a distance,” she laughed. “Which is a little far fetched, I know.”

“You’re not…entirely wrong. I know a little.”

“I knew it!” she grinned.

“It’s a very innocent crush. That’s all.”

“My crush on you isn’t so innocent,” she said and she nuzzled her nose playfully into my mask. I ground my teeth and fought down the robust urge to rip the mask off. “But to answer your question. I have friends, mostly boys, and they kinda suck. No offense, but boys don’t make great friends. I need a friend that I won’t fall in love with, and vise versa. I need a good friend that’s a girl.”

Fall in love with??!

“Like Natalie North? I adore her. Can you get me her number? I met her once.”

“I know.”

“You know I met her? How?” she asked.

Whoops! How
would
the Outlaw know that? “Because… Natalie told me.”

“Oh. Right. She’s very nice.”

“She is,” I agreed, nodding. “The real Natalie is as nice as her media persona.”

“Is that why you like her? You both wear masks?”

“That’s why she likes me. Very perceptive of you,” I said. “She thinks we have that in common.”

“Are you two still…you know…dating?” she asked and she nudged me with her shoulder. “It’s a very romantic story.”

“No,” I said. “I haven’t seen her in months.”

“Aw,” Katie said. “I bet she misses you!”

“The Outlaw doesn’t really exist,” I sighed. “It’s just a mask.”

“No. That’s not true. The Outlaw is bigger than that. I know you’re probably a real person under there but to the world, to the rest of us, to me…you’re very real. We need you.”

“I just cause more problems than I solve,” I grunted. “By a long shot. That’s why I’ve been gone.”

“Are you married in real life?” she asked.

“No,” I laughed, careful to alter my voice. I forget how mysterious the Outlaw persona is. My best friend just asked if I was married. Surreal. “Remember? We’re about the same age.”

“Good,” she smiled.

“What about you? You must have a boyfriend.”

“No,” she said, pursing her lips. “My situation is… complicated.”

“How so?”

“Just typical high school boyfriend girlfriend stuff,” she shrugged and the strap to her tank top slid off her shoulder. Focus! “Want to hear something interesting?”

“Sure,” I said, but it was nearly time for me to go. I’d been here too long, taking too many chances.

“Do you know the guy that gave you the taser? Last year?”

“Yes,” I said slowly, sorting through my web of lies and connections. “How did you know about the taser?”