Hush (The Infected: Ripped to Shreds Book 1) (3 page)

She smiled, her face a bit strained,
as she had to dodge yet another truck. It wasn't a large one or anything, the
streets through this area had just originally been one way, and meant for
wagons and horses. Over time they'd needed more, but it had been too expensive
to pay for all the property needed, so the city council had simply painted more
lines on the street. Not that it really worked, but it had saved on cash at the
time.

Which, apparently, they'd full
out spent on the library.

The one building contained more
books than the New York public library
system
even owned. That was what
she'd heard, at any rate. Most of their stock was in the warehouse too, and
counted in millions of titles. Physical ones that had to be moved around by
hand when wanted.

That wasn't her job. No, she just
went in, and sat there all day, hoping that someone would need to have help
with a project. There was a high school nearby, and a community college, so
they did get some play that way. Not that anyone would be coming in
that
day for school things.

It was just far too close to
Thanksgiving for that. Two meager days away.

Cindy Mableton sighed at the
idea. After all, she didn't have anyone to celebrate with. Not in the whole
world. That wasn't totally due to her choice however. For instance, while she'd
be a
horrible
mother, in the long run, the idea of having a man in her
life wasn't a terrible one. Other things got in the way however.

Her hobbies were important to
her, but a regular guy could
possibly
be turned off by some of them. Especially
if she ever got the chance to break out into some kind of torture. The idea
really seemed fun to her, but she'd been resisting it, since it would make it a
lot easier for people to find her. The odds of making a mistake and leaving
something behind, well, that became greater the longer she spent with each
victim.

So, having a boyfriend was
probably out. Not that she was really capable of
love
or anything. Most
people didn't really love anyone else anyway. They even knew it, which showed
up above their heads to her power. The younger people thought they did, and
that could be intense for them, but adults just kind of enjoyed being with
others, and pretended it was the same thing. Feeling inadequate about it the
whole time for most of them. So while it probably wasn't happening for her, she
knew better than that.

As she moved into the large
place, she sighed and shook her head.

"After all, who wants a
girlfriend that can kick their ass?" That part was true enough too. On the
good side, most men wouldn't really think she could, being in denial of things
like that as a rule. They had to be, in order to protect their sense of self.

The building was warm, like
always. The rest of the women complained about being too cold, all the time,
but it was always just about right as far as Cin could tell. Probably because
of how the Infection had taken her. That kind of made sense, given what she'd
read about it. People with active powers, which meant things that worked
constantly, tended to have faster metabolic rates than regular people. Hers
might not be able to move tanks out of her way, or let her fly, but it
certainly did work a lot. She didn't always feel hungry, but when she ate it
was
a lot. Way more than she'd need just to keep herself trim while running and
practicing fighting like she did.

There
were
people in the
place, if not very many, she could see, already. Most of them were older men
and women at this time of day. People that needed to hang out someplace other
than in their own home, just to preserve what sanity they had left.

The colors above people's heads,
which were all words that described them, what they were thinking,
or
what they were like, were normally in all red. Not always, but it was what Cin
most regularly noticed from them. That
could
come in different ways, she
knew. There were fifteen or twenty shades of red for instance, that all held a
different
feeling
. She kind of got the basic idea, but a person with
greater range that way would have been able to pick up a lot more, she bet.
Bright red was angry, and soft pink was a bit romantic.

She'd seen things as far ranging
as green and even blue however. What those were about, Cindy had
no
idea. The most likely thing there was that those had to do with nuanced
emotions, which she didn't really care about, or have, in particular. It was
useful to see if a person was pissed at you, but she couldn't
make
herself care if their feelings were being hurt. Not unless they were a threat
to her in potential. In general she avoided that, but only because it made
things smoother for her. A lot of her time was spent that way, tricking other
people into thinking she was a nice person, even if she kind of wanted to strip
their skin off into bloody lines, and then force them to eat it.

From across the room she saw
Wally, who was in a black button up that seemed new. It looked halfway sharp
really. Like he was making an effort to look good in order to impress the
ladies. He was at the front processing desk, since that was his job there. Her
desk was at the back, hidden nearly. By the resource materials.

"Wally!" There was a
big wave, and she got one back, but he didn't smile. That was
odd
. He
wasn't great looking, and charm had mainly missed him, being replaced with
awkwardness, but he
always
managed a smile for her.

For a second she nearly took it
personally, but then noticed what was going on. The words over his head were
tiny from thirty feet away, but she saw the word anyway. It was only one thing,
and got a bit bigger as she stared at him, working the whole things out.

Impulse
.

The word was in bright yellow,
which she realized
probably
meant fear. For a moment she felt pleased to
have gotten that part. It was odd, since most of the time the library branch
was a calm and safe place. The worst thing they had to worry about were men
coming in and looking at adult materials on the computers where kids might see
it. So there was, or nearly had to be, something going on. For a moment she
wondered if the fighting had started again, and if the girl was off in some other
place, killing with wonton abandon. That didn't make sense however, given that
Wally wasn't watching things unfold on television. He was sitting there,
looking at several people.

Which meant that his reason to
fear was probably more personal at the moment.

Sure enough, right there in front
of him was a tiny girl with red hair. Next to her was a man, one who seemed
pretty familiar as well. It was hard to see his face, so she moved over toward
the couple, in case Wally needed her help. Finding books, or possibly running
away. She couldn't take the government's death squad, but there might be other
things she could do.

Before she got there the small
girl spun in place, sniffed once and nodded at her. It was a knowing thing, and
her eyes lit up, a bit happily for the killer that has slaughtered so many
people already.

"You're Infected? Are you a
threat?" The words were over her head, in a soft red color, but she
also
said them out loud, getting the man next to her to wince and turn as well,
looking more than halfway freaked out. Embarrassed, and worried that they'd
accidently make problems for these people that seemed
nice
so far.

Wally, who might have been a
geek, was also smart. He took a sharp breath and glared at their backs. Then,
even though it had never come up before she noticed something. Above his head
in fine print, was an announcement that he, too, was afflicted. Which the other
man suspected. After all, his dead brother had been, too. Powerfully so, and
that kind of thing ran in families.

It was written right above his
head, along with a rather polite apology to her, about being given away so
publically. The thing there was that Wally thought they'd meant
him
, and
with only a glance around she understood that no one else had heard anything.
It was a library, so everyone whispered, most of the time. That meant that no
one strained to hear what everyone else was going on about most days. They
didn't even realize that Impulse had come to their door yet.

Also, looking at the Chinese man,
she understood something else. This was
Proxy
. Cindy researched things
for a living, and frankly, while she was a
bit
worried, on an abstract
and unrealistic level, about Impulse being sent after her, that really wasn't
happening. Not even at that moment.

It would be like sending nukes in
to take out a single cockroach or possibly an annoying mouse.

Proxy
however, could very well show up
any time she was about to have some fun. He took the place of people about to
die, hence the silly name, and more often than not
killed
whoever was
trying to murder them. Only, at that moment she was totally innocent. If it had
happened the night before, she would have run, or possibly tried to fight him,
and died. This wasn't then, however.

She shrugged and gave half a
smile. Being Infected
wasn't
illegal, and her power was small enough in
raw damage potential that no one would care about it.

"Yep. A class one? I
basically see cartoon word bubbles over people's heads that tell me about them.
Book pages, computer screens and stuff like that. It's a bit like telepathy,
only with reading. I can get deep things too, sometimes. I can't pick what
however, not casually, so it doesn't make a big difference most days. Normally
just whatever they're thinking about me." Then she waited, her face and
body relaxed. Her power was a bit more than that, but downplaying her abilities
only made sense at the moment. Just like how if a police officer asked if you
had a weapon, you mentioned that you had a tiny pocket knife, rather than
proclaiming it a giant medieval backsword, if you could get away with it.

Still, she relaxed, and prepared
her mind.

Ready to fight, if she had too,
and knowing that she'd just lose if she tried. Probably messing up her library
in the process.

Impulse was one of the physically
strongest beings on the planet, even if she left Cin feeling huge in
comparison. Proxy... Just didn't lose, and would kill without blinking. It was
kind of hot to think about, in a terrifying way. It would be better if the
threat wasn't about her however. Or Wally.

He gave her a curios nod then.

"Neat. That sounds a
lot
better than hearing them. You can't see them if you close your eyes?"

That was a leap, but also true,
for the most part, so she nodded at the thin, hyper fit, looking man.

He was dressed in civilian
clothing, and had a buzz cut. Blue jeans, and a red pullover shirt, with running
shoes on his feet. The girl next to him had more fashion sense, but also had
sneakers on. Ready to go at a moment's notice. Her slacks were tan, and loose.
Her shirt was a brightly colored striped blouse that would have looked about
right at a gay pride parade. On the tiny redhead it worked however.

"That's right. Also the
words get too small if I'm too far away. More than fifty or sixty feet and all
I get are squiggly lines." Then she held out her right hand, to the man
first.

His thoughts were decently calm,
and came across in a combination of blue and red. They indicated that he was
interested enough in her, in a light way. A very polite one, but there was
attraction there, too. Interested, now that he knew she wasn't going to be
bigoted against them.

Any
of them, including Wallace. That
the man was worried for the other guy was interesting. There wasn't any overt
reason for him to be, as far as she could tell.

"Cindy Mableton. Resource
Librarian extraordinaire, at your service. It looks like you've met the
Incredible Wally? You know his brother?" She'd never spoken to him about
that, but the name came up in three places at that moment. Over the heads of
each or the other people standing there.

Clark. Clarkson. She nearly
blurted out that it was a
hideous
thing to name someone, when she also
saw that the man was most likely
dead
. She might not
care
what
others thought or felt, but not stepping in a pile of slime like that was a
good way to avoid having everyone know about it. From the words the man was
finished however, for good. Gone and not coming back, at any rate. Proxy knew
that, thanks to some time travel he'd done. At least it was what he'd been
told. By Impulse. A hundred years in the future.

That was news to her, however.
From what she'd learned from her research, the man could just do a basic sort
of teleportation. Going to crime scenes, and taking the place of victims. As
she thought about it the info scrolled above his head, filling her in very
firmly with a lot of things she never would have suspected about him. That
meant she was kind of staring, reading it all.

He could time travel at will, for
instance,
and
teleport, including with other people now. His ex had
taught him how to do it. She, for her part, was from a different world, and seemed
like a
bit
of a bitch. The woman was also Prime's mother. As in the
superhero that everyone knew about. More, Proxy here was his
dad
. The
tiny girl was his grandchild. Which given that he didn't look a day over
twenty-five was interesting. Again, it was all thanks to the time travel.