Read Infected: Die Like Supernovas (The Outlaw Book 2) for Free Online Page B

she called, gunning the engine and joining the congestion jockeying for the exit.
    I walked away, a little shaky from the adrenaline rush. Los Angeles was getting more and more dangerous and the violence was spreading. A recent Dodgers game had been postponed for safety reasons. This protest wasn’t mean spirited or overly savage, but how long could that last?
    I was angry. Angry and jumpy. I probably shouldn’t have been but the sudden riotous onslaught had startled me and now I was mad. These guys were only trying to make a political statement that could improve the living conditions of their children…but I was still pissed. I didn’t want to hurt anyone, just cause a little trouble.
    I dropped the black mesh football bag and grabbed one of the the balls. The bulk of intruders was about fifty yards away, swarming and spray painting one of the fields. After a moment’s inspection I spied one of the leaders. He was issuing orders and laughing.
    “Okay, my friend,” I said. “Pride goes before the fall.”
    I spun the ball in my hands and pathways began to materialize in the air. I could almost literally see the angles I should throw if I wanted to hit him hard or hit him soft, hit him in the head or in the stomach.
    I could do anything with this football.
    He turned to stalk towards a thicket of spray painters near the bleachers and I spotted my moment. I set and loosed a tight spiral that went whistling across the parking lot and straight into his foot as he was striding. I’d thrown hard. The collision caused him to miss his footfall and he fell, landing sharply with a cry.
    Beautiful! Glorious! Hah! I was so far away that he never even looked in my direction.
    He rose in a rush, furiously casting about for the cause of humiliation. His friends were laughing at him. He tried to storm off but another football streaked in, again disrupting his stride, and again he collapsed. He was outraged!
    Well, that was fun. But perhaps I shouldn’t be a bully. Time for me to go. I left the fuming man on the ground behind.
    I spotted my car from a distance. It was…it looked…it was on fire! What?! Smoke was pouring out of the cracked windows, and the chairs smoldered. As I approached, the interior fabric reached a terminal heat and caught fire all at once. The rear view mirror was dripping. The texture of the paint and the glass was changing, distorting. There was a guttural cough under the vehicle and then a louder hot crash as the gas tank exploded. My old faithful beat-up Toyota was toast.
     
    I laid in bed that night monitoring the news, exhausted from talking with police and my insurance agent. The police declared arson. No one had seen a thing. I could postulate one culprit, but I certainly wouldn’t tell the cop that Tank Ware had done it in retaliation for me throwing a ball of quarters through his window. The insurance adjuster would send me a tiny tiny check soon for a replacement car, but it wouldn’t be enough. My father had glared from his lazy-boy, like it was all my fault.
    My bank account still had some money from a generous gift I’d received last year, and I was about to open my account online to check the balance when the news coverage of our school attack came on the television. The Sheriff officially labeled it a protest against the recent sanctions passed in congress. No one had been hurt and only six were arrested, the vandals with spray paint cans. Then another news story caught my eye and I sat up in bed.
    A smiling news anchor I didn’t recognize said, “And perhaps our most important news story this evening, or at least the juiciest…we have an Outlaw sighting! You probably know the Outlaw has been missing in action for months, not seen since the dramatic rooftop showdown with the mystery villain that kidnapped teenager Katie Lopez. The internet has produced hundreds of Outlaw copy-cat photos, but none were substantiated as authentic. However, two nights ago that all changed. The infamous