The car barely slowed down as it drove past Cessily, let alone show any inclination to actually stop. What it did, however, was drive through a large puddle, splattering the not exactly clean water in her direction and covering her head to toe in wet dirt. Again.
Her outstretched arm and her head dropped at the same time as the lone car disappeared in the night. She didn't even feel like getting mad at the driver. The thought that this would maybe be a justified reaction crossed her mind for moment. But who would stop for a dirty looking metal girl in the middle of a god-forsaken forest?
Now all she felt was just frustration, and so a low sigh was the only sound that escaped her lips. At least the pouring rain would wash away most of the dirt on her clothing. Or so she hoped, standing by the side of the road, half-heartedly wiping some mud from her face.
"That's not really how I imagined summer to start." She muttered to herself as she turned around towards her scooter, which luckily hadn't fallen over.
Cessily checked her luggage again, once more fitted on the back of the small vehicle in a makeshift way. She suspiciously eyed the tarp plane that she had somehow stretched out over her bags to protect them from the rain and fastened with quite a bit of duct tape. After she was more or less sure that her belongings were probably still dry, she sat down on the saddle.
Pulling out her cell phone, a glance at the display didn't reveal anything new. Still no service. With closed eyes she had to think about her grandparents. How sick with worry they had to be right now.
Another car drove by and Cessily quickly leaned sideways to wave at the driver, motioning him or her to stop; with almost the same result as before. At least this time she wasn't hit by water and mud.
For good measure – and as a way to channel her frustration – she attempted to restart her scooter, but the small red vehicle just made some gurgling noise before the engine died again. Just for a second she considered giving it a kick, but then realized that it most likely wouldn't help at all and just make her feel sorry.
"Say, why do you have to do this to me now?" She demanded to know, slumping over the handles. "You made the same trip just fine last time, and now this…"
After a minute or two Cessily decided that she had sat motionless in the rain for long enough. This would get her nowhere; and the chances for anyone stopping for her were pretty slim. Getting up, she grabbed the handles of the scooter and started pushing again, careful to not slip on the wet road.
She cursed her decision to not stick to the more populated roads, but take the route with the "scenic beauty" again. As well as her idea to start the trip in the afternoon, because at this time of the year there would be enough daylight even during the later hours. She was just grateful that she'd never been afraid of forests; and that her "eyes" apparently had no trouble adapting to low light conditions.
Occasionally the general darkness would be broken by the headlights of passing cars. Cessily wouldn't give up and turned around to wave every time. Some of them even slowed down, but would speed up again as soon as the light reflected from her metallic skin. She began to wonder if she'd have to walk the entire distance to her grandparents' house.
The more she was surprised when a car actually pulled over and stopped a few meters in front of her. A joyful grin appeared on Cessily's face, just to be replaced by a worried expression immediately. What if he wasn't there to help her? What if it was a murderer? She had seen those movies…
But no, the man that stepped out of the car looked like a kind person. Definitely no murderer.
"Oh thank you so much!" Cessily said, showing her friendliest smile. "I thought no one would ever stop and help me. Thank you!"
The man appeared as if he was to say something, but then he stopped in his tracks, a shocked expression on his face.
"… good Lord!" he said in a breathless voice and hastily stumbled back to his car, all the while staring at Cessily.
It took her several seconds to realize what was just happening. Then it dawned upon her that he probably hadn't really seen her before exiting his car. As the car's wheels spun on the wet asphalt, Cessily didn't know whether she felt more like sitting down to give up or rather like punching something.
She reached inside her flight jacket where she had stuffed Mr. Wrinkles to protect him from the rain and the dirt, giving the plush animal a tender squeeze.
"Don't feel sad, will you?" She said, partly to the toy and to herself. "At least he stopped and got out of the car. That's an improvement."
She sighed, tightly closing her jacket again, grabbing the scooter's handles to continue her walk. "Who knows, maybe the next one will actually talk to me?"
At that point flashes of light within the thick cover of clouds above caught her attention. They were followed by a deep and distant grumble. Apparently the Maine summer rainfall was about to develop into a summer thunderstorm.
"Oh no no no no no no! NO!" Cessily felt the panic taking a hold of her. "No thunderstorm! No thunderstorm! Please!"
She frantically thought about what to do now. Maybe hide in the woods? But what about her scooter and her luggage then? Looking around, there was nothing but forest and hills in view. No, that would be no solution. She had to go on, find a better place.
Cessily picked up speed, running as fast as she could without risking a fall on the slippery road or to lose some of the bags that were strapped to the vehicles back. She had no idea if the thunderstorm was actually getting closer, but didn't really care to stay there and find out.
The flashes of lightning were getting brighter and the thunder became louder as she went on, grateful that her body couldn't tire. Cessily had no idea how many miles she had been running when she dared to think that she might have some luck for the first time that night. A driveway appeared at the edge of the blackness, with a flickering light that was not caused by the lightning overhead.
There was an actual building there, with an illuminated sign indicating some kind of roadhouse. And cars parked in front of it.
"Thank you! Thank you!" she said as she pushed the scooter onto the parking lot next to the small roadhouse.
It wasn't exactly a very big place, or particularly modern. Or inviting. But it had a roof; and the lights were on. And she didn't really expect to find someone there who would be able fix her scooter, let alone give her a ride. Leaving her vehicle and her bags behind wasn't really an option anyway.
Besides, one shouldn't get in a car with strangers, she reminded herself. But they'd certainly have a working phone there, Cessily thought.
-*-
Cessily tried to focus on the sound of the raindrops splattering against the canopy of the roadhouse. She always had found the sound of rain to be very soothing. The occasional sound of thunder or bright flash of lightning outside let her wince every time, but then she told herself that she had a roof over her head, so it was all good for now. She'd have listened to her mp3-player, but the batteries had died some time ago. However, the soft music playing in the background was also to her liking.
She had sat down at an empty table in the hindmost corner of the roadhouse, on a chair by the window so she could have a look at her scooter and luggage standing outside. Her backpack was placed on the table before her, to at least partly conceal her from the few other customers present. Still, she could feel her stares on her, as well as hear their voices, undoubtedly talking about her.
The place looked even smaller from the inside than the outside. But also much more inviting, almost comfortable and rustic. It was obvious that the owner was putting a lot of effort into the place, trying to make the most out of limited resources. All in all, it was by far more tasteful than Cessily thought it would be. She couldn't say that she didn't like it.
Cessily tried to not look in the direction of the other customers, figuring that her mere presence must have been unsettling enough for them. Most of them were probably locals from a nearby town or truck drivers who would use the parking lot to spend the night at. She had seen a few trucks parked outside. They generally kept to themselves, with the few who were talking with each other shooting a glance in the direction of the odd girl sitting in the corner by herself. It had also been noticeable that a lot of the customers had decided that it was time to pay and leave the moment Cessily had arrived.
She had to think about the past few weeks, specifically how she hadn't felt out of place at all during that time. But more like someone who fit right in. Almost like normal human. Not like now, where her entrance had silenced any conversation in the roadhouse. It became painfully obvious that she wasn't at Xavier's anymore. And it came to her that she already missed the people there.
Cessily was just grateful that she had found a public phone in the back of the roadhouse and a few coins inside her pockets to phone her grandparents. As expected, they had been almost mad with worry by then, but Cessily had been able to calm them down somewhat by explaining her situation and discussing what to do next.
"Can I bring you something, Miss?" A friendly voice suddenly interrupted her train of thought.
Cessily tore her gaze away from the window to recognize the bartender standing by her table, smiling down at her. A tall young man, probably in his twenties, with short blond hair. She was taken aback for a second by the fact that someone was actually talking to her.
"Oh, uhm… I don't know…" She replied, remembering her manners and returning his smile. "Do you have hot chocolate? Maybe?"
"Heh, hot chocolate. That's not ordered much 'round here." He grinned, scratching his head. "But I'll see what I can do, yeah?"
"Thank you." Cessily smiled and gave him a grateful nod.
"No problem." He replied, still a friendly smile on his face, as he turned away to go back behind the bar. He was obviously the only one working here.
Cessily returned to her own thoughts and looked out of the window again, still smiling out of gratitude that someone showed some civility towards her. The sound of a beer bottle that was put down on the table way too hard caught her attention and she found herself looking at a large and rather scruffy guy sitting at the other end of the room, staring intently at her.
Though she quickly lowered her gaze, she could feel that he was still staring at her. This went on for uncomfortable two or three minutes, until the bartender reappeared at her table, a tablet with a large cup on it in hands.
"Uhm, I'm sorry about the hot chocolate, but I only have this coffee." The bartender said with an apologetic smile. "It's quite good, though. And it's on the house, of course."
"Oh, yeah, sure!" Cessily was glad that he was back. "Coffee is always fine. Thank you!"
"You're welcome." He replied as he put the cup on the table in front of Cessily, giving her a sympathetic smile. "Don't hesitate to make yourself heard when you need anything else."
"Hey, Jack!" Came a loud and rough voice from the other end of the room. "Since when do the weird freaks get any service here?"
Jack, the bartender's name, Cessily presumed, let out an audible sigh as his smile faded and he turned around to face… Yes, the scruffy looking man who had stared at Cessily previously, just as she had feared.
"Will you please leave her alone? Will you, Bill?" He said in a calm but determined voice. "Get back to your drink."
"Who the fuck do you think you are? Do you believe you can tell me what to do, eh?" Bill snorted, sounding considerably drunk and menacing. "You think you're my fuckin' dad?"
"Its okay, Bill. And now cut it!" Jack said as he went back behind the bar. "I'll bring you another one. And then it's time for you to go home, okay?"
"I'll go when I say that I go." Bill shifted on his chair, again staring at Cessily. "You should throw that freak out instead. How should I enjoy my drink when I have to look at that… thing?"
"This is my place. And my decision who's welcome here and who isn't." Jack opened another bottle of beer. "Not yours."
"You should show some respect to your regular customers, Jack. That's why no one comes here, eh?" Bill pointed at Cessily. "That, and because you always let in the wrong people."
"He always lets you in, Bill." Another man said jokingly.
"Shut the fuck up, dumbass!" Bill shouted, glaring angrily at the one who had spoken up. "No one wants your opinion here!"
Jack came back, walked over to Bill's table and put the bottle in front of him. Cessily had the impression that Jack had dealt with him a few times before.
"Let that be my problem. And she can stay as long as she wants." He said. "Here. On me. And then you're out."
Bill grunted. As Jack turned to get back to the bar, he slowly got up, supporting himself with one hand, pointing at Cessily again with the other. She felt fear creeping up her back.
"Heck, if you don't want to do it, then maybe you should let me throw that creep out!"
Jack drew in the air audibly, then slowly turned around again to face Bill.
"Okay, that's it." He said, still calmly, but with a sharp undertone. "You've had enough. Please, leave! Now!"
"You're throwing me out, Jack?" Bill pointed at himself, giving Jack an angry look. "Me?"
"Yes, I am." Jack replied, trying to guide Bill towards the exit. "We both know what happens when you've had too much. Don't let me call the cops again."
"Get your hands off!" He demanded, pushing Jack back. "I warn you! I'll find the way out by myself."
Bill grabbed the bottle of beer on the table, shot Cessily another angry glance and then walked out of the roadhouse, surprisingly steady, while mumbling incomprehensibly.
Cessily realized that she had almost entirely hidden herself behind her backpack all the time and only dared to sit straight again as Jack walked over to her and gave her another reassuring smile.
"I'm sorry for that." He apologized. "Please, pay no mind to Bill. He's an idiot. And when he's drunk he's even worse. I hope he didn't scare you too much."
"It's… okay." Cessily forced herself to return his smile. "Thank you."
"It was nothing." Jack shrugged. "I don't know why I still let him in here. He's always looking for trouble while drunk. When he's not around I just call him Bill the Bonehead." Jack laughed. "But better don't call him that to his face."
"Oh, I won't do that. Thanks again." Cessily said, holding the cup of coffee tightly with both hands. Jack gave her another grin and a pat on the shoulder before going back behind the bar.
-*-
One by one the customers left, and soon Cessily was the last one, still sitting there and sipping on her coffee. The beverage was almost cold by then. Suddenly a plate with a piece of apple pie was placed in front of her. She looked up in surprise, just to see Jack sitting down on the chair across from her.
"That's on me, too." He said, opening the beer bottle he had brought for himself. "Try it, it's really good."
"Thanks." Cessily smiled. "Very kind of you."
"You're welcome." He gave a dismissive wink. "Least thing I could do. Guess you didn't have an easy night, yeah?"
"Yeah." She nodded. "My scooter broke down and my phone doesn't work either. Had to walk a while till I got here.
Jack regarded her across the table, then nodded as he put is feet up on the vacant chair next to him.
"Bummer. But that's the storm." He motioned in the direction of the hills at her questioning look. "Cell phones always act up 'round here during thunderstorms. But did you reach who you wanted to talk to?"
"Oh yes, my grandparents." She replied as she realized that he meant the phone call she had done earlier. "Just told them that I'm alright. Now my grandpa is coming to pick me up. They're living not so far from here, you know? Well, not far if you're mobile, that is. Oh, it's no problem if I wait here, right? He shouldn't take long."
Jack smiled at her and shook his head, taking a swig from his bottle.
"No, not a problem. Stay for as long as you want." He shrugged. "I always prefer some company to hanging around here all alone at night."
"Oh, cool, thank you. I just thought you were about to close for the night." Cessily frowned. "I really don't want to hold you up from getting home."
"No, not closing yet. Still have a few hours left." Jack laughed. "It's just not much going on 'round here right now."
"Is… that my fault?" She wanted to know, worrying. "I guess I scared your customers away. Oh, I'm so sorry."
"No, not your fault." He shook his head again, smirking. "Well, maybe a bit. I guess the folks here are just not used to seeing a girl in here. Especially not such a stunning one as you are. Except for my wife, of course."
Cessily had to laugh at that. She brushed a lose strand of hair behind her ear and rested her chin on her closed fist. "My, thank you." She said. "Though I still think they were more scared than stunned. Same reason why no one would want to stop for me out there."
"Their loss. I don't find you scary." He shrugged as he took another swig. "Well, a little bit perhaps. And hey, don't let it get to you, will you? I mean, would you really stop for someone who looks like the T-1000's little sister in the middle of the night?"
Cessily wasn't sure whether to feel offended because of his last statement or not, but the sly grin on his face told her that he had meant no harm. "Who?" She simply asked.
Jack made a surprised face. "Don't tell me you haven't seen the Terminator movies, girl."
"Uh, no. I don't watch that many of those movies. Especially not if they sound scary like that."
Jack sighed and put his bottle on the table. "You miss out on a lot. But… hey, they're probably the reason why most people are scared of you. See, like with most things, you can just blame the media and Hollywood for it."
"Ok." She said, grinning herself. She decided to try the apple pie and pulled the plate a little closer. "Anyway, it's nice that you're… well, so cool with the way I am. And there's really no reason to be scared of me. I promise."
He smiled and took another swig of beer before answering. "Yeah, I thought you're already getting enough shit because you're different. It's nothing, really. We're all different, in one way or the other. No one needs that dumbfuck Bill to make a fuss about it."
Cessily nodded thankfully, taking the fork and eating a piece of the apple pie. It was good indeed.
"You know, there are already enough assholes 'round here, so I had the idea that I could try and not be one." He added, giving a short laugh.
"I would have put it differently, but I see the wisdom in your words." Cessily grinned, eating more apple pie. "So, this is your place then?"
Jack nodded. "Yeah, my wife and I are the owners. Bought it last year." He finished his beer and got up. "Was pretty run down, but we're trying to make the best out of it."
Cessily looked around. "I like it. It's cozy. Could use a bit more colour, though."
"Yeah, thanks." Jack reached behind the counter to grab another bottle of beer. "We could use a few more customers, though. Or some different ones." He shrugged. "But we knew it wouldn't be easy 'round here. Not much traffic. Mostly truck drivers transporting logs from the forests."
"And then you get me scaring of the few people who are here." Cessily joked and then pointed at the pie in front of her. "That's really good. Maybe you would do better if you wouldn't give away so much free stuff."
Jack gave her grin as he sat down again. "That's only for the nice customers. And thanks, my wife made it."
"She helps you with the roadhouse?"
"Yeah, she's here 'round the day, but leaves in the evening to take care for the kids. So it's just me during the nights."
Cessily smiled at him while eating the pie. "That sounds rather hard."
Jack nodded deliberately. "Yeah… but we'll get by. It's not like we didn't know what would expect us when we decided to come here. But we're determined to make it on our own. Heh, I'm sure business would be better if you came here more often."
Cessily raised an eyebrow at that. "How so? I don't think you'd make more money with me being your only customer. Have you forgotten? I tend to scare people away."
"Well, only the kind of people who I could do without anyway." He grinned once again. "Guess a silver girl would be quite the attraction, don't you think. Hey, and maybe I finally get rid of Bill that way."
Cessily returned his grin, but immediately winced as there was particularly loud thunder outside. Jack regarded her with a mixture of confusion and amusement in his expression.
"Now, don't say that you're scared of thunderstorms."
"I am. And you would be too if you were made out of metal." She said, making a face.
She was about to say something more, but then another sound caught her attention. It came from outside, but was definitely man-made. Sounded like metal on metal. By leaning a bit more sideways to get a better view at the parking lot through the window, Cessily had to see that drunken Bill was back. And apparently he had decided to take on her scooter and her luggage with a large monkey wrench.
-*-
Jack spat out a bit of blood into the mud. He was desperate trying to support his own weight, crawling on all fours over the wet ground, careful to not slip on the muddy surface. His movements were shaky and he appeared to be dizzy and in great pain. Although the pouring rain washed a lot of it away, the sheer amount of blood that was streaming down his face had to obstruct his vision. He lifted one arm to wipe some of it away with the sleeve of his shirt, but this already caused enough imbalance to make him slip with the remaining hand on the ground. Cursing loudly, he toppled over and his upper body and face landed in the mud.
Bill laughed at him. A drunken and unsettling laugh. The taller man towered above Jack, slightly leaning to one side as he attempted to keep his upright stand. The large monkey wrench was still in his hand and he gripped it tightly. Soaked by the rain and with mud sprinkled on his clothes, Bill looked a lot scruffier than in the bar. More intimidating as well. He staggered a bit as he tried to walk, though it was hard to tell if he wanted to go forwards or turn around. Go after Jack or back to the scooter.
Cessily stood in front of the roadhouse's door, stunned by what had just taken place in front of her, and tried to comprehend what was happening. Never before had she witnessed real violence in such a way, not while being so close to it. Maybe she had seen it in the media before, but it was different. It had had happened so fast and raw. She felt paralyzed by the events as the thought in her mind seemed to run in circles.
Jack was moving, so he wasn't dead, Cessily thought. However, he wasn't getting up, and his head was bleeding terribly, but did that mean that he had to be seriously wounded? Maybe it was just a concussion and a harmless superficial wound. Scalp wounds did bleed that much, no?
They both had run outside as soon as they had seen Bill attacking Cessily's scooter and had tried to stop him by words alone. First by reasoning, then by shouting. To no avail, though. He was either too drunk to care about reasoning or had never intended to give in to it in the first place. Cessily just remembered that Bill had stared at them for a few seconds, just standing there and breathing heavily, before turning back to her scooter to crush the vehicle's headlight.
At that point Jack had rushed towards Bill, trying to push him away. But in his drunken rage he had just continued to swing the wrench. Jack had suddenly collapsed to the ground, and only a few moments later Cessily had realized that he had been hit right in the head by a full blow with the heavy tool.
"That's what you get for messing with me, fuckin' pansy!" Bill shouted in Jacks general direction, who was still struggling to get some distance between the other man and himself. "And for dealing with this freaky… monster there!" He lifted the wrench, pointing it in Cessily's direction.
Cessily remained frozen in place. She didn't feel to be able to do anything but stare back at Bill. Was he going to come for her now? He certainly wouldn't want to beat her. Or would he? But then he thought she was a monster, didn't he? No one had any sympathy for a monster. Cessily cursed her paralysing fear. Not fear of what he might do to her, but of what might happen then.
"What are you staring at, you freak!?" Bill spat in her direction. "What do you want here anyway?" He took a step towards her. "You're in the wrong place, don't ya think?"
Cessily wanted to take a step back, to keep her distance, but found that she wasn't able to do even that. Fortunately, the alcohol in Bill's veins seemingly hadn't made him courageous enough to go after a silver mutant, so he turned his attention to Cessily's scooter again.
He swung the wrench at the covered bags on its back.
"What is this here anyway!?" He spoke as he beat against the plane until the entire construction toppled over and some more of Cessily's bags landed in the mud, exposed to the rain. "What are you hiding here!?"
"Why… why do you do this?" She asked with a shaky voice. She didn't care much that her belonging were getting wet and dirty, but rather was grateful that Bill was ignoring Jack for now. "I haven't done anything to you. And Jack didn't do anything, too."
Bill looked at her again, his expression a mixture of anger, contempt and fear. "To teach you damn monster a lesson about molesting decent people." He had stopped whacking her luggage as he turned towards her, holding the wrench above his head. "To show you that it's better if you go back where you belong."
"She… she's no monster. She's a girl!" Jack's voice sounded a bit gurgling, and he spat out again, a mixture of blood and mud this time. He had managed to get up somewhat and was now kneeling on the ground. "Don't you see this, you damn fool!?"
"Shut up!" Bill's head quickly turned towards Jack again. "You're calling me a fool? What are you, Jack? Are you fucking blind?"
"Bill, listen to me!" Jack insisted. "You're drunk, and you're imagining things again. She… is… no… monster." He held up his hands. "So please, put down the wrench and go home!"
Bill made a step in Jack's direction. He lowered the wrench, but held it with both hands now. Cessily tensed up even more. Somehow Bill appeared even more menacing this way.
"What's up with you, Jack?" Bill asked, standing close to the kneeling man. "Just look at this thing! Who's imagining things here? Can't you see this?"
"Bill, please!" Jack seemed to have no inclination to get up or do anything else. "She's just a girl. With different skin, that's all."
"Bullshit!" His voice was loud now, causing Cessily to wince. "I'm not dumb. And I'm not blind. I can see this abomination clearly. And I know things." His gaze shifted back to Cessily. "I know they're out to get us. Get us all." Back to Jack again. "And you were letting it in. Treated it like one of us."
Cessily decided that she could no longer be the passive bystander. She had to do something. Anything. It was obviously more than just a volatile mixture of alcohol and testosterone that was affecting Bill and she feared that he might do something to Jack again.
"What are you talking about…?" Jack began but was interrupted by Cessily taking several steps away from the roadhouse's entrance towards the two men. Bill saw this as well and he jumped back a bit, holding the wrench protectively in front of himself.
"Please, I mean no harm." Cessily said, as softly as she could manage. However, the agitation made controlling her voice difficult and so it sounded a little shaky and artificial. "Jack is right, Bill. No monster. Just a girl on her way home."
"Stay where you are!" Bill demanded, his voice shaky as well. "You're not fooling me. Maybe young naïve Jack here, but not me." He nodded several times as he gripped the wrench tighter. "I know what you're up to. But you're not fooling me, no!"
"I'm up to nothing, Bill!" She got a little closer, raising her hands to indicate that she meant no harm. "All I want is to go home to my grandparents. That's all. I promise. Please, believe me!"
"Listen to her, damn fool!" Jack added. As Cessily looked down at him, she could see that he was still breathing very hard and fast, his face still distorted in pain. But he appeared to be steadier now as he wiped off the blood from his face again. "You're drunk and you don't know what you're doing. Remember the last time that happened? Calm down, dammit! Before you really hurt someone!"
Cessily wasn't so sure if provoking him was a very bright idea, but she did notice that Bill apparently was almost mad with fear. She had no idea what were the right words to say in a situation like this, what would have been the correct way to behave. But maybe she could use this to her advantage and get him away from Jack. Not knowing what else to, Cessily carefully approached them until she stood close to the kneeling man.
"I said stay where you are!" Bill almost screamed and he raised the wrench a little further, but took several steps backwards at the same time. "Stay away from me, freak!"
"Please, I'm not doing anything, really!" Cessily assured him while still holding her hands up. "Just go away. Just… go." She was surprised and glad at the same time that her actions seemed to work out as she had hoped they would. "Please!"
"Leave me alone!" Bill said as he shakily walked backwards. He still gripped the wrench tightly with both hands, but slowly lowered the heavy tool. "Leave me alone." He stood several meters away, breathing heavily and seemingly not looking anywhere specific. "Leave me alone."
Cessily watched him a few seconds longer until her concerns about Jack got the better of her. She knelt down beside him on the muddy ground and tried to get a look at the wound on his head. It was still bleeding profusely, but he was looking back at her with a stead gaze, so maybe it really was nothing serious.
"Oh my god, Jack! Are you okay?" She demanded to know, grabbing his shoulder and touching his face with the other hand.
"Yeah!" He merely said, smiling weakly back at her. "I'm fine. Had it worse before. Just a little dizzy."
"Are you sure?" Cessily went on, not really feeling relieved in the slightest. "We need to call an ambulance. And the cops!"
"No." Jack shook his head, gently pushing her hands away. "It's okay. Just let me get back up. It's not so bad."
Cessily frowned at him, but put her hands under his arms to help him up from the ground nonetheless. Or so she would have, if it hadn't been for the yell that sounded through the night, coming from somewhere not far behind her. She didn't need to turn her head to see what was happening, as her body instinctively reacted to it and shifted its senses to the large figure that was quickly approaching her.
Bill had apparently overcome his own fear and was now closing the space between him and Cessily with long and fast steps. He held the monkey wrench high above his head, ready to swing, and an inscrutable look was plastered on his face.
Cessily was left without any time to think about what to do, but this proved to be unnecessary anyway. She was able to stand up and turn around to face him, but before even the slightest idea could form in her mind, the wrench came down and connected full force with her head. She was still staring in surprise about what was happening as Bill's expression shifted from some kind of anger to open shock when he saw that his attack didn't have any effect.
But he seemed to be determined to try again, and this time Cessily would react. She did not know whether it was by conscious decision or an instinctive reaction of her body, but as Bill swung the wrench a second time at her, she reached out and grabbed his arm, effortlessly stopping him.
Cessily struggled to sort out the events with her mind. What was happening? One part of her conscience was confused by it, another – the one that apparently controlled her actions – worked with absolute precision. Everything seemed to go by without her being able to do anything about it. Pretty much like a movie. But she could clearly make out Bill's face in front of her. His expression began to distort into one filled with pain. What was he doing there? Was she holding his arm? She noticed that the wrench landed in the mud next to her feet.
Panic crept into Bill's eyes and he raised his other hand, striking Cessily's face with his closed fist, with the same effect as before. The following events appeared to happen even faster and hazier to Cessily. She would remember that she had let go of his arm and then had lashed out with her other hand in the general direction of Bill's head.
Oh my god! Had she just beaten someone?
Cessily stood frozen in place as Bill staggered backwards. He tripped over his own feet and fell into the mud, all the while screaming and holding one side of his face with his hand. Cessily looked down. She barely noticed Bill struggling to get back to his feet, stumbling off into the night as fast as he could, or Jack lifting himself up from the ground next to her, carefully touching his head wound. All she could see were her own hands, fingers transformed into sharp, long claws again, and the bit of blood on them, quickly washed away by the pouring rain.
-*-
She still couldn't comprehend it. Not at all. Someone just had been beaten down in front of her eyes. Her scooter had been purposefully damaged, her belongings thrown into the mud and someone actually had attacked her with a wrench. She couldn't believe it. Didn't want to believe it. Why would anyone want to do that? What had she done to anyone to deserve this?
Cessily leaned forward until her head rested against the mirror above the sink. She looked down at the running water. This was all so insane. She closed her eyes. Someone actually had wanted to hurt her. Insane.
And then she had beaten someone herself. She had no idea what she should be more scared about. Having been attacked, or actually having used violence herself. She tried to banish the thought of the blood on her hands out of her mind. Had it been Jack's from when she had taken a look at his wound? Or Bill's from when she had struck out at him? There was no way to tell now, and Cessily feared that she might dread knowing the answer.
Cessily straightened up again, taking a look at her image in the mirror. Most of the mud on her clothing was gone now. The worst stains, at least. She lifted her hand and put it on the mirror where the reflection of her head used to be. It was perfectly clean again and back to normal. Nonetheless Cessily decided to wash it another time.
"Quite a night, eh?" Jack stood in the doorway of the restroom, leaning against the frame, and had the arms crossed in front of this chest.
"Say that again." She replied and forced a weak smile to her lips without looking up from the sink. "Not exactly what I had expected when I left from school."
"I bet! But things can get a bit wild 'round here." Jack nodded in her direction. "You alright?"
Cessily didn't answer instantly, but first finished washing her hands one last time, deliberately applying the soap before rinsing it all off. She switched off the water and proceeded to wipe her hands with the paper towels, although the metal had already repelled most of the water covering her skin.
"Yeah, I'm fine." She eventually answered, turning her head to look at him. No, she wasn't fine. Not one bit. Jack had applied some gauze to the wound on his forehead and fixated it with some patches. Apparently the bleeding had stopped by now. "How about you?"
"Okay. Don't worry 'bout me." He shrugged nonchalantly. "Like I said, I've got it worse before."
"If you say so." She threw the paper towel into the trashcan below the sink. "I still think you should have a doctor take a look at that. Not that it's more serious than it seems."
"Yeah, I'll do so tomorrow." He nodded. "You get used to these kind of things here. Some people are just out tonight to look for some trouble. Risk comes with the job."
"Maybe you are used to it." Cessily said and turned towards him. "But I'm not. And I don't want to be. I despise violence."
"Hey, so do I." Jack assured her and showed her a smile. "But from time to time you have to knock a sucker over the head. And you should never feel bad for defending yourself. Besides, you probably saved my butt there. Thanks about that, girl."
"Yeah, right." Cessily gave a short and humourless laugh. "Considering that the whole mess was because of me in the first place, it's the least I could have done, don't you think?"
Jack shrugged again and motioned her out of the restroom back into the main room of the roadhouse. "Anyway, I owe you another drink. And we're talking about Bill here. Guy's not quite right in the head, if you ask me."
Cessily followed Jack back towards the bar. "Take a seat." He said as he went to his usual place behind the counter.
Cessily sat down on one of the barstools right in front of him and leaned on the counter with crossed arms. Jack was busy stuffing away the contents of a small first aid kit that were dispersed in front of him. Judging by how he had taken care of his own head wound, Cessily assumed that he was quite skilled when it came to these kind of things. Maybe he did indeed get in a lot of trouble there.
He finally sat down on a stool behind the bar and looked for something below the counter, eventually reappearing with a bottle of whiskey.
"How about this to celebrate the night?" He asked, holding up the bottle to judge it. "Some excellent Scotch, I guess. I take it you aren't old enough to drink yet, but I think we go ahead and say 'Fuck off' to that tonight, eh?"
Cessily smiled weakly and shrugged. "That's okay. Alcohol doesn't affect me anymore." She regarded the decoration behind the bar. Quite a bit of work must have gone into that.
"Oh, really?" Jack took two glasses and poured each of them a good fill of Scotch. "Well, then I better not try to drink you under the table, eh?"
She had to chuckle at that. "Yeah." After taking a moment to look thoughtful, she went on. "You know, not quite right in the head or not, I still can't believe he actually did this. I mean, I never did anything to him. I always try to get along with everyone."
Jack gave her a long look. "Well, don't take it personal, will you? Bill is a psycho nutcase at times, especially while drunk. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. If it hadn't been you, he'd found someone else." He shoved a glass in front of her. "You're a nice girl."
"Thanks." She smiled unevenly. "I guess my parents and grandparents are mostly responsible for this. But yeah, I just think that confrontation it the wrong way, you know?"
"Heh, yeah, I thought so." He shrugged apologetically in response to the look she gave him. "Nothing wrong with that. Well, anyway, better forget to try to get along with everyone. Doesn't work out. Believe me." He grinned at her. "Way too many assholes in the world for that."
He raised his glass for a toast. "To surviving another night in this god-forsaken place."
Cessily toasted back with a nod before both of them emptied their glasses. Although she didn't really have a lot of experience when it came to whiskeys, she savoured the rich and heavy taste. Maybe she should try that more often? Getting drunk wasn't a problem anymore anyway.
"But I think I might actually have… hurt him there." Cessily said, looking down her now empty glass. "That scares me a little."
"So what?" Jack poured himself another one and held up the bottle for Cessily with a questioning look. She nodded and he filed her glass as well. "The sucker deserved a little punch. Was about time someone did it. Maybe I'm lucky and that scared him away for good. One customer I don't need."
Cessily wasn't sure if she should be okay with that. Granted, she had acted in self defence, but could she justify what she had done, even if she didn't know if she had injured him after all. He could not have hurt her, so much was for sure. But… she could have easily killed him in return. She was unsettled by the lack of control she had had over her own actions, and by how weak and fragile that man had been compared to her.
"I still think you should call the cops, though." She answered after giving a deliberate nod. No use discussing these things here and now. "Just to make sure, you know?"
"Yeah, I'll do that. In a bit." He showed a wry grin. "After you've been picked up by your grandpa. No need to get you involved in this. I think you can do without that hassle tonight."
"Thanks, again." Cessily managed to laugh a little. "That's nice of you."
"You're welcome." Jack raised his glass and Cessily copied him. "Besides, I think he should be here soon." He commented after they had emptied their glasses again.
Cessily had a look at the clock hanging on the wall. "Oh, you're right." She let out a sigh. "And all my stuff is still lying out there in the mud."
Jack got up from his stool. "Right. Come on, I'll help you pick it all up."
She got as well, but hesitated for a few seconds, then motioned Jack to stay put. "No, I'll do this on my own. You've done enough already. And you'll just catch a cold out there."
"Gee, sure mommy!" He mocked but got what she meant as he saw the look she was giving him. She just needed some time all alone right now. "But… just as you like. I still have to clean up the place anyway. Guess it's goodbye time then, eh?" He reached across the counter to shake her hand.
"Yep, was nice meeting you, Jack. Despite… everything." She said as she took his hand. "And thanks again."
"Anytime." He gave another grin. "By the way, I don't even know your name."
"Cessily." She replied, pulling off a halfway grin on her own.
"Pretty unique name." Jack said as he leaned on the counter. "Fits. You know you're welcome here whenever you want."
Cessily grabbed her bag that was still lying on the table in the corner, and then answered him with a nod and a slight but friendly smile before heading out the door.
-*-
For a very short moment, the flash of her camera illuminated the mess that was her scooter and luggage, peeling the entire chaos from the darkness around the roadhouse. Cessily wasn't exactly sure why she took this picture, but she somehow felt compelled to do so. As tempting as it might have been to only conserve the brightest, happiest moments, it wouldn't have been true to life, she thought. Everything, even the saddest of sights, had its place in it.
But despite telling herself this, it did very little to stop the metallic teardrops that ran down her cheeks, only to reunite with the rest of her body shortly after.
She had considered for a moment to go back inside the roadhouse and take a picture of him and his place as well, but decided against it. Not now. She'd do that another time, when she would be there again. When everything would be a bit lighter, and Jack would be in a better shape. Probably on her way back from her grandparents. But she was determined to stop by again eventually.
No, this place definitely had very little in common with Xavier's, she thought as she started to collect her belongings, dragging her bags out of the mud and brushing them off as thorough as she could. She was surprised how much she had gotten used to being treated like anyone else there. Maybe she could just go back there after her visit at her grandparents. Back to Japh and who else might have stayed there. But she quickly dismissed the thought. She needed time before going back to him. Time to think and hopefully talk with someone.
Luckily the rain had died down to a light mizzle by then, so that most of her stuff was rather safe from getting soaked any further. The thunderstorm had also moved elsewhere and Cessily felt pretty much safe moving around outside. A few flashes of lightning in the distance and the occasional rumble in the sky was all that was left of it. After she had dragged all of her things to dry spot and was sure that she hadn't missed anything, she had a look at her scooter.
It was hard to tell in what shape the vehicle was, but from what she could make out it had mainly suffered superficial damage. Except for the headlight, of course. As she affectionately ran her hand over its red surface, she hoped that her grandpa would be able to fix it again. She knew how much the old scooter meant to him, and she had grown very fond of it as well by then.
The light from a car that drove onto the parking lot hit her. For a second she feared that Bill might be back and she felt the fear taking a hold of her again, but as she turned around and recognized the approaching pick-up truck, a huge grin appeared on her face. She got up and ran towards the vehicle, waving with both arms. It stopped and a figure got out at the passenger's side. Her grandma had come as well.
The two barely had time to leave the vehicle before Cessily reached them threw her arms around her grandmother, taking her in a tight hug.
"Nana! Papa!" She exclaimed with a shaky voice, still tears in her eyes.
"Petal!" Her grandma said as she returned the hug, pulling her close. She felt her grandfather's hand on her shoulder and then heard his voice as well. "Hey, Kiddo."
The rain had gotten stronger again, but Cessily didn't care and just listened to it splashing against the car's windshield. She had curled up on the seat of the truck between her grandparents, who had covered her in a blanket despite her insisting that she wasn't feeling cold. But that was okay.
Of course they had wanted to know what had happened to her and her things. But Cessily had explained to them that she did not want to talk about it, not at that time. That she just wanted to leave, to go home. And they had understood and questioned her no more, instead helping her to load the scooter and her bags onto the truck. She was so grateful for that, for finally getting away.
Cessily closed her eyes and just tried to focus on the movements of the vehicle and the sound of the road and the rain outside. Sliding her hand inside her jacket, she grabbed Mr. Wrinkles and held him close. All that she wanted now was to empty her mind, cleanse it from all that had happened tonight and fill it with different, happier thoughts. As she curled up tighter against her grandma's side, she began to feel that she might succeed with that. And when her Nana's hand gently stroked through her hair, she actually started to believe that the rest of the summer break just had to turn out better than the start.