Infected 7: Ghost Girl

  The Infected:

  Prime-Dharma

  -Ghost Girl-

  P.S. Power

  Orange Cat Publishing

  Contents

  Chapter one

  Chapter two

  Chapter three

  Chapter four

  Chapter five

  Chapter six

  Chapter seven

  Chapter eight

  Chapter nine

  Chapter ten

  Chapter eleven

  Chapter twelve

  Chapter thirteen

  Chapter fourteen

  Chapter fifteen

  Chapter sixteen

  Epilogue

  Author's Note

  Chapter one

  There were certain things that Scott Chambers expected from life, on any given day. He reflected on that fact as the small, and rather tidily manicured, hand slapped him across the left cheek.

  "You bastard!"

  The woman was starting to cry, her face, which was normally pretty enough, had tightened into a tense collection of wrinkles. It wasn't nearly enough for a true narcissist to be around. No, a person like that would feel they deserved better than the mess in front of him. Not that Scott was one of those, rumors aside. It just seemed like it to most people. The consensus was that he only cared about himself. Everyone agreed on that score, except for Scott.

  Straightening his body caused his muscles to ripple alluringly. That wasn't a thing he could control, since every action he took presented him in the best light possible. That was his first mode after all. A nearly uncontrollable desire to seem manly and in control at all times. In charge and strong. Even as he stood in front of an innocent and probably very worthy woman, and told her to go away, more than a bit roughly. It wasn't how he wanted to seem, but it always happened in an almost identical fashion. He'd stand there and give them a look that spoke of self-importance, and try to express that he'd enjoyed their time together, but felt guilty about it. That never came out right.

  He smiled this time, rather than let the affront to his dignity, that slap, cause him to melt down into a rage. That had happened before, on more than one occasion, but somewhere in his life, he'd actually learned not to let that get to him. Not as much. He still felt a stir of anger at the move deep inside. It was a dark and creeping thing that clawed at him, even as he worked to push it back. It had taken him a long time to realize that looking good didn't always mean seeming like a complete tool. True, that information had come from his friends, and not inside himself like it might have for a normal person. Mainly Denis and Tobin. The two men had actually bothered to be his friend over the last months, which very few others had ever done.

  They didn't let him get away with a lot of garbage, which was apparently part of what being a real pal meant. Each in their own fashion had been slowly reshaping the golden mound of self interest that most people thought was him. It was almost like they saw through the veneer he wore, into his heart. Tobin especially. The funny looking little man with his big head and giant eyes could look right into a person's soul, and push on their heart without even trying. More than once he'd suggested that Scott make an effort to treat his wife and daughter better, without ever even saying the words that way.

  Which was what had led him to this particular point, standing with a woman from Team Two, Sue, standing in front of him, her blouse unbuttoned in a way that was supposed to catch his attention, and her face made up well enough that it was clearly not an accident. The woman had been trying to get his attention for nearly a week, and when she finally approached him, working up the courage, he'd tried to let her down easily.

  As the second slap came in, making his head turn a bit, since it had a lot more than normal human strength behind it, he had to reflect on the idea that maybe his new technique wasn't really working that well.

  "I'm sorry Sue, I'm married." Everyone knew that. It wouldn't help a lot, because they also knew that he cheated like it was going out of style. All the tabloids, and most of the television programs, said so.

  "So? When has that ever stopped you before?" She moved to hit him again, causing a stir, since they were standing right outside the restaurant on the first floor. He'd been ambushed coming out, after lunch. Not even ten feet from the door, the woman had simply walked up and asked if he wanted to go and have sex with her, probably understanding that having an audience would make it harder for him to say no.

  It did, particularly since the people at the bar were mainly media personalities today. That meant every single one of them had either covertly raised a camera or some kind of recording device, the instant that the small Team Two member had started to go off on him. One of the men, Frank Houser, openly held a video camera up and stood closer, so that the mic on it would pick up what he was saying.

  What he got would probably surprise the man then.

  "Sue, it isn't you, and yes, I've made mistakes in the past. I should have spoken more clearly. It's really about trying to do better, not hurting your feelings. You're great. I'm just not single." The words nearly made him want to wince, since they came out sounding a bit insincere, even to his own ears. It was important to sound like you meant what you said.

  Especially to women that were busily hitting you. At least he knew enough not to block or shy away too much. It was one thing for him to turn a woman down in public, another for him to go off, lose control, and act like a buffoon for the cameras. There were limits to how hard he could push his first mode after all. That nearly uncontrollable part of himself that really wanted to seem perfect, all the time.

  It took three more slaps before the lady in question finally stormed off, her face set in a rage of her own. It was red and a bit streaked with mascara already. A thing he was used to seeing on women. That wasn't a good realization. Making women cry that much was a flaw. A weakness. Really, in a way, it was the one that had most of the people on the IPB base thinking he was a narcissist. Looking good, professional and being well dressed didn't make people hate you. Not most of them.

  Making their friends cry did.

  Frank sidled up to him, his white shirt straining over the ample stomach a bit, making lines in the fabric that were visible under the blue jacket. He had a tie on today, which was red. For Houser that was dressing up a lot. His thinning hair making him look both older than his years, and weaker than even he was. It wasn't a good look for anyone, but Scott didn't comment on things like that. He wanted to look good, and right now that meant spinning the situation, to prevent damage.

  Catching his own reflection in the tall mirrored section to the right of the restaurant door let him make certain he wasn't too disheveled from the activity, which reassured him greatly. His golden hair was a bit askew, which needed to be fixed. The rest of him was normal, with his shining white teeth, flawless gold skin, lavender eyes and twelve hundred dollar suit. It hadn't even been ripped, which was a favor. All of his clothing had to be tailored, just to fit over his massive and rippling muscles.

  That and the armor he had under his skin. It was really the second one that caused him to need the extra care when it came to his clothing. He had a few lines in places that normal people didn't, causing him to try and hide those flaws as often as possible. It wasn't always, and he knew that everyone understood what he was. Infected. It fairly poured off of him after all. Normal people didn't look like him. He was good looking, but it was nearly a parody of what a child would think of as perfect. Like a cartoon version of a man.

  The slightly sweating reporter moved in, his camera still at the ready. There was a smile on his lips that seemed to foreshadow the grilling that was about to come. It was a Frank Houser hallmark. Even his fans hated the man, but he did have a way of getting at information
that others missed.

  "So, Prime. This is a bit of a change up isn't it? Since when have you turned down a piece of tail? Not to put too fine a point on the matter, but I'd hit that." There was a smirk to follow the words then and the camera didn't move at all, being used as a shield. "Are you only doing your daughter now?"

  That was enough to cause the anger he'd managed to suppress during his discussion with Sue to climb all the way to the surface. In fact, it surged so suddenly that he could feel his face warping into an expression of disdain and haughty annoyance. Scott didn't hit the man, which probably saved his life. The reporter's, not his own.

  Or so he thought, until he looked around to find Proxy coming out of the restaurant with his girlfriend, Mary.

  Brian, the super hero and IPB Operative known as Proxy, would kill him if he tried to hurt the reporter in front of the man. It was how he was wired after all. He protected people. Even fat and slightly greasy journalists that weren't smart enough to get out of the newspaper business as it dried up like the old hag that it was. Of course, Frank was actually more attuned than that, which was why he had a camera with him. Anything said here would end up online, he didn't doubt. Scott didn't think that the other man would actually just start in on him for calling the creep in front of him a few choice names, but his own first mode wouldn't allow that.

  Weak people did that sort of thing. The strong, the people in control, they didn't have to. Walking away was the right course of action at the moment, he knew. That it simply wasn't going to happen was also something he understood about himself. That left him with a huge problem, for nearly ten seconds. Standing there, upright and powerful looking, trying not to glare at the little chubby fellow. It didn't make him seem good, so he let his face shift to a smile. A dark one.

  Mary moved forward, clearly having heard what the man had just said, a feeling of annoyance coming from her even as Brian touched her arm.

  "Wait." Proxy spoke in a hushed and black voice that rippled with the promise of death. He did that all the time though, so it didn't get that big of response from the reporter.

  His suddenly vanishing did.

  That was part of his power. When people were about to die, he went and took their place. Then he'd do whatever was needed to save them. He'd fight to the death, run away, or even beg if it was needed. That he didn't have any physical powers meant that each fight was a real danger to him. A thing that his girlfriend, Mary knew.

  She tensed for a moment, then nodded stiffly.

  "We will wait for my mate to come back. This is not over, little peon. You have insulted a personage, and that will not stand!" The words came from the woman with vigor at least, and a strange accent that he always thought of as being slightly like Hobbs, the man from Team Two.

  That made sense, given that they were both from the same alien world. An alternate reality, rather than a place in far off space. It had been kind of important for him to learn that, since it had turned out that the woman in front of him, Mary, was his biological mother. Just to sweeten the deal, and make things even more confusing, Brian, who was only twenty-three, was actually his father. It was unlikely, since Scott was thirty-six, for all he looked to be in his early twenties himself.

  It had been a time travel situation. Part of Proxy's powers allowed for that it seemed, and Mary had similar abilities. Even better controlled however, since she could go pretty much anywhere she wanted in space or time. Her whole family could. Most of them.

  Scott wasn't like that, which was probably due to his being Infected. That was the thought in medical at least. Doctor Burrows had done hundreds of tests on him since it had been discovered. Taking samples and giving him shots for some reason. Otherwise, if Scott hadn't been Infected, he would have probably had the same abilities as the incredibly powerful alien woman in front of him. The one that Frank Houser turned to, and tried to catch on camera. A thing that was suddenly gone.

  Taking a deep breath, Scott reached out and touched Mary on the arm lightly. At first he suspected that she'd done it, but Kevin Moore, the Director of the Infected Protection Bureau was standing behind them, about five feet back. His power let him do that. Make things go away, and never come back. Now all he had to do was the fat man that had annoyed Scott, and said slanderous things, and the day would be looking up.

  Which didn't happen. Mary at least collected herself and gave a single, rather haughty nod.

  "Director Moore. I was just about to remind this man of his place in the world. Perhaps you could assist us? He was impugning the honor of Mr. Chambers here. In his own home. Should we call for an advocate?"

  The Director was many things. Intelligent, old, powerful and most of all, a good politician. One of the best really. If he wasn't they wouldn't have had the IPB at all. So instead of pretending he didn't understand the woman, he let his head drop, ever so slightly. A serious look came with that move. It was just on the edge of not being polite.

  "Oh? Mr. Houser, what were you saying that upset our guest?" There was no mention of the lady's name. That wasn't a mistake. She was being protected, since anyone learning of her powers was probably going to mention it to the government, and they'd want to try and take her in. That would not end well, for so many reasons.

  The first being that the woman wouldn't be taken at all. Her power pretty much made that certain. The second was that Proxy would protect her from that. Even against the might of the government. If that happened, then most of the IPB and possibly a few other agencies might just follow him.

  Frank wasn't a moron either, for all that the man had been goading a class five Infected to his face, clearly trying to get a reaction. That could be fatal, after all. Even if it was an accident, being dead was generally hard to reverse. The fat man had been playing a dangerous game that way. His reaction to the Director was a lot more telling however.

  He blushed. It was a slight thing, but definitely embarrassment at his own actions.

  "I... Had just been asking Scott here if he was only sleeping with his daughter now?"

  That got Kevin Moore to look away, his face suddenly going hard. Angry.

  "That situation has been resolved and all parties cleared. It was an attack from outside forces. I think you know that too, Mr. Houser."

  There was a sudden break in the conversation then, since Brian came back, standing exactly where he had been, which was a few feet back from Mary now. There was blood on the front of his black military style outfit, a single dark blotch of wetness, with most of it being over his right hand. They all stopped to examine him, even the reporter. For different reasons.

  Scott ran a quick check, moving toward the man and looking for gushing wounds, then breaks. There was nothing. Just someone's blood. Enough of it that whoever Brian had just been with probably wasn't alive anymore.

  Brian glared at the chubby and poorly dressed news hound, and turned the topic back to what had been said, as if he'd never left at all.

  "Slow news day, Frank? Getting Prime to slap you down might make the news, but using a person's first mode to cause problems isn't allowed here. I think you need to leave, for now, and to consider how close you came to causing a lot of loss, for a lot of people, today." There was menace to the words, and it was clearly intended.

  That the chubby man didn't back away from the very fit and blood covered one probably meant he was brave. That or insanely stupid.

  "Fine, give me back my camera then. I can run with footage of Prime turning down a piece of ass instead. It isn't as good, but we can claim it means he's playing for the other team now. People will buy it. He looks like a fruit, after all."

  Scott had heard that one before. More than once, over the years. The idea was that some men thought he was good looking and were attracted to him, which they took to mean he must be gay. Or at least bi-sexual. They weren't hoping it either, since the real homosexuals all got that he liked women. It was just the men on the fence that didn't want to face what they really were inside that thought things like
that.

  A crazy and screwed up defense mechanism. Placing the blame for their sexual feelings onto him, as if that was how things worked. He made them feel like that.

  It was Mary that shook her head, smiling.

  "Your device is no longer available in this realm. I do not think it will be easily retrieved. Perhaps you should consider your lack of it simple good fortune? The route that does not require you to follow in its path to retrieve it?" She looked slightly mischievous just then, and gave off a single wave of power.

  Brian stared at her, and so did Moore, but the reporter just acted like nothing had happened except a strangely worded threat. A mild one, from a woman that seemed like a cosplaying hippie.

  The Director pointed in the direction of the front door, which was up a level, since they were underground. There was no need for speech at least, and the man didn't argue anymore about his missing gear.

  He just looked pissy, "I'll go. It's a bad plan for a Federal agency to be hiding things like this from the public, I got to tell you. You think it's worth it now, hiding sex abuse for your people like this, but look at the Catholic Church. They got away with it for a long time, but now a lot of them are going off to the slam. That could be you, Prime. Soon." The man tried to act self-righteous about it, his head going high.

  It was just enough for Scott to feel his control slipping totally. Even if he was going to die trying to do it, the man in front of him was going to pay for the lies he was spreading. There wasn't anything else left. He moved, getting ready for Proxy to kill him, or even for Moore to make him vanish forever, in order to stop the bad press of a murder. It nearly had to happen, one way or the other. They just couldn't afford for him to be seen killing people. He was too popular and high profile.

  Mary moved in and hit the fat guy, her tiny fist awkwardly taking him right under the right eye. Scott blinked, since he hadn't realized before that she was left handed. She was of regular strength and fighting ability it seemed, so the man didn't go down, being much bigger than she was.