Nathan sat alone in the basement at his girlfriend's house. She had gone to the church to pray. He would love to have gone with her but the circumstances didn't exactly permit him going into public. He was watching the news. The stories were the same on every channel: mutants everywhere simultaneously went berserk and started attacking and killing random non-mutants. They were calling it an 'international act of collaborative terrorism.' He didn't know what to think about it all. He himself had attacked and killed two police officers. He didn't know what had come over him. He heard all of the commotion going on outside his work, in the parking lot, so he went to check it out.
The known mutants in the workplace were gathering together and rioting violently. He wanted no part of thing; he even tried to calm them down. When a fellow worker pointed him out as a mutant, two police officers came to arrest him. They'd drawn their guns and threatened to fire on him if he didn't comply. All of a sudden, all of the hatred that he felt towards those intolerant of mutants welled up inside of him. It wasn't his fault that he was a mutant—he was born that way—God made him the way he was. He lashed out quickly and had killed them with his bare hands before he'd even realized what he had done.
He looked down at his hands; he could still see their blood in his mind. He felt so guilty about it. He had murdered two men. They probably had families, wives and children. It wasn't his place to take the life of another human being, mutant or non-mutant. Though he still felt guilty about it he knew that something was up. There was no way that every mutant on the planet would simultaneously get the same idea to start killing non-mutants; it wasn't logical.
His thoughts fell on Lindsey. She had killed members of their own church, her aunt and grandmother included. There was no way that she would have done something like that without some sort of outside influence or control. Nathan had decided the same thing about himself, and many other mutants he knew he had done similar things when the attack began.
Something didn't quite fit, and he wanted to learn more. He was sure that the truth would come out eventually, though he didn't trust the media even one iota. It was certain that the MCA was looking for him by now. Someone at his workplace had turned him in. Whoever it was probably told them about Lindsey too. She had just been fired from her job at the credit union only a week or so beforehand. He told plenty of his buddies at work what he thought of that.
He was open about being a mutant and defended his position with all his might. He firmly believed that he was who he was, and that there was nothing that he, or anyone, could do to change that. Mutants were a real thing, and more and more were being born everyday. No doubt, the future would one day lead to everyone being a mutant. Then there would be no more persecution and bigotry. Nathan longed for that day when they could just be people again.
His mom had called him earlier, telling him that the MCA had come to the house looking for him. They'd taken Bryan away in handcuffs, no doubt to be hauled off to a concentration camp. Bryan, his twin brother, was also a mutant. Though they were not identical, their powers were. Both of them housed super-enhanced speed and strength. Roughly, three times as strong and fast as an average man, though they looked like average guys.
Nathan's doctor told him that there was in irregular protein that his body created, as a result of his mutation. That protein gave him an irregularly strong muscle structure. If he were to lift weights, and work to build those muscles, he would probably get twice as big, and gain an unknown about of strength. He built muscle at an accelerated rate, and one pound of his muscle was as good as three times a normal man's muscle. Whenever Nathan started playing on the church's softball team, his calves had doubled in size after only one practice and one game.
Most people had the problem of working to do more physical activity but if Nathan did too much, he'd gain enough muscle not to fit into his clothes the next day. His body devoured fat and thus left him looking lean and cut all the time. He also ate about three times as much meat as most men, which was a lot. His doctor told him that his metabolism allowed and even called for such a diet. As a result, food was his biggest bill every month.
He knew that unless he found someplace to go, a safe haven for mutants, he would soon be in the MCA's custody and hauled off to a prison. He gave a heavy sigh and looked at the time. There wasn't much to do but read, watch movies and play with the dog inside Lindsey's house. He'd been sitting around all day. He'd done some push-ups, crunches and arm curls with the couch when he got bored. His skin already had new stretch marks from the muscle growing so large. That was one downside to his power: the stretch marks. His muscle grew so big, so fast his skin often didn't have time to compensate. He took massive doses of vitamin E and rubbed cocoa butter on himself all the time to help prevent it. He couldn't prevent them all but it helped a lot.
He rubbed the sweat from his brow. Though it was a hot summer day, Lindsey couldn't afford to turn on the air since she'd lost her job. He couldn't open widows and turn on the fans to get a breeze going because it had to look like no one was in the house. It was hot and stuffy all the time. Even though evening was approaching at it would soon drastically cool down, it was still too hot to just sit.
He got up, went to the bathroom, disrobed and turned the water onto lukewarm. He stepped into the shower and let the cool water cascade over his body. It was the only way to cool down in the house. He was careful to only take about three showers a day, and he made them quick. He didn't want to cost Lindsey any more trouble then he already had.
He stepped out and dried off. He pulled long cotton pajama pants on and decided to leave the shirt off. He sat back down on the couch and pointed the fan directly on him to keep himself cool. Gracie, Lindsey's hyperactive dog jumped playfully onto the couch and onto him, wanting some attention.
"Get down, Gracie," he said, scooping the small dog and setting her back on the floor. She only jumped back on the couch and onto him again, thinking it was a game. He repeated this ritual a few more times before he decided to lock her in the basement so she'd leave him alone. He wasn't in the mood to entertain a dog at that particular moment. As he stood up, he heard gravel crunching under tires in the driveway. It was probably Lindsey, coming home from prayer but the vehicle sounded bigger. Curiously—and cautiously—he went over the window, with the dog still in his arms and looked through the curtains. To his horror, he discovered several MCA cars outside. Men, in uniform were getting out, guns drawn.
He rushed to the basement and tossed Gracie on the first stair. He closed the door behind him and came back to the front room. Before he could get to the window he heard a banging on the door. A man spoke with a loud voice.
"Lindsey Basden! We have reason to believe that you are housing a fugitive of the law, a mutant named Nathan Henson. We have a warrant and if you do not answer the door in fifteen seconds, we will bust it down," he announced through the door.
Fifteen seconds…what do I do?
A thousand thoughts started to go through his head as he began to count the seconds away. Should he run? He was a criminal after all. Did they know that Lindsey was a mutant too? Was she in danger? He had to think fast. It was the difference between going quietly and becoming a fugitive on the lam, running from the authorities. He knew that if he ran, the MCA would hunt him down wherever he was. He might not even be able to make it out the door. He knew that if he went quietly, and they hauled him away, he would never see daylight again. They would lock him in some sort of underground, overcrowded prison or concentration camp where he could only await death.
With four seconds left to spare he ran for the kitchen and went for the back door. They weren't taking him alive, not today. He ran out the kitchen door and stepped out on the stairs. There was still a man in the car, watching that exit. He honked the horn to alert the others. Nathan jumped over landing and took off as fast as his legs could carry him, which was about fifty-five miles an hour when he got to full speed.
"Get him!" he heard the MCA yell and then heard gunfire. He turned the corner and heard the bullets hit trees as they sailed past him. He was out of their line of sight, but he wouldn't be for long. He began to think of places to go, but nothing came to his mind.
Lindsey! The church!
He started cutting through yards, jumping over fences with a single bound so that it would be harder for the MCA to pursue him. He was cutting a straight line to the church, without having to worry about traffic or stoplights. He'd be there in only a few minutes.
As he ran, he felt his muscles start to pulse and bulge. Because of how much he was pushing himself, they were growing on the spot, as he ran. His leg muscles rippled and suddenly he felt himself pick up speed. His legs would be huge by the time he was done, but at that moment, he was only grateful for the extra boost.
When he ran up to the church, he found the parking lot nearly empty. He saw Lindsey's car go down towards the side of the hill and onto the main road. There were armored jeeps pursuing her.
Lindsey!
"FREEZE!" he heard a man yell through a megaphone. He and a woman got out of the car, guns drawn. On of them held a scanner that they pointed at him. He was too far away to hear what the machine said, but he knew that they would identify him as a mutant. It should not have been too hard to tell, as fast as he'd suddenly run up into the church parking lot.
He could be caught now. He started to look for a route of escape and they started shooting. The first few sailed harmlessly past him but one punched him hard in the shoulder and knocked him back. He fell onto the pavement and looked at his shoulder in disbelief. The pain was horrible. The lead part of the bullet hadn't penetrated the skin though. There wasn't even a hole. It hurt, but he was strong enough so that bullets didn't go through him.
Oh, they are about to have a really bad day, he thought to himself. He was on his feet and running for them full speed before they knew what was coming. He put his hands in front of his face and they started shooting again. He felt the bullets bouncing painfully off of him. Peeking through a gap, he stopped before the man and punched him in the chin as hard as he could. He heard and felt his spinal cord giving way as he sailed up, through the air and squarely into one of the churches window. Without doubt, the blow had killed him, bringing him up to three people he'd killed.
He ducked and tripped the woman to the ground before she could shoot him. He was never one to hit a woman but his situation demanded he do something. He snatched the gun out of her hand and threw it onto the roof. She reached for another weapon and he grabbed her by the ankles. He spun her in a circle and through her into the jeep behind them. She bounced off of it like a rag doll and fell limp onto the ground, unconscious. He was sure that he had not killed her.
He was about to turn and run in the direction Lindsey's car was heading but more MCA jeeps pulled in to the parking lot and roared towards him. There was a man at the top, holding an assault rifle. Nathan ran to meet him head-on. He jumped into the air and put his feet first, kicking the guy in the head. He felt his neck snap back and the top of his head hit the top of the jeep—another instant kill. That put him up to four people in a matter of seconds. He landed on his feet as another jeep came roaring towards him.
He had no way of jumping over this one in time. He tried to run out of the way and the driver opened his door and slammed into him, as it roared past. Nathan hit the ground harder than he'd ever hit something in his life. He didn't feel any bones give way but the asphalt underneath cracked and split as if a wrecking ball had hit it. He also broke the door completely off of the jeep. He was glad they weren't driving Escalades now.
The next jeep tried to run him over but he rolled so that it rolled over him without putting him under any tires. He was on his feet in a flash, his muscles throbbing and growing bigger by the second. One of the jeeps began to fire the automatic rifle at him. Nathan ran for the church entrance as fast as he could. He had been able to stop a low-caliber handgun but he didn't know if the rifle rounds would do more damage—not something he was willing to find out the hard way. When he knew he could clear it, he dove towards the glass door and tucked his head. He burst through the glass that was still intact and skidded across the floor into the table inside the foyer.
He snapped the legs on the table as it, and its contents, crashed to the floor and on top of him. The whole dive and roll thing didn't work as he'd planned. The mirror on the wall also came crashing down on him. It shattered but most of the pieces stayed inside the frame.
His mutation was putting his muscles on overload. He could feel the strength and mass growing all around him. It wouldn't be long before his skin would start to stretch again. He didn't have time to worry about that. He cleared himself from the glass and wreckage and looked outside. The man in the jeep was holding the shape of something Nathan knew all too well. He'd seen enough movies to recognize a rocket launcher. The other jeep with a gunner still inside held the same thing.
This could be bad.
He saw them firing and ran towards the sanctuary doors. They opened by being pulled open but he burst through them, breaking them off of their hinges and sending wood splinters everywhere. The first explosion hit the foyer behind him but the second one hit the wall next to which he was running. He jumped up and to his left to avoid as much of the blast as he could. The shockwave gave him a little extra push in his jump as he sailed through the air. He came crashing down on the other side of the sanctuary, cracking a few pews in half and unbolting them from the ground.
He groaned in pain and lay still for only a second, for he could afford no longer than that. He could only hope that they didn't have any more rockets for their launchers. He didn't know how many times he could do what he'd just done. He jumped to his feet and grabbed a half of a pew. He ran for the new entrance to the church created, thanks to the MCA wrecking crew. When he saw a jeep in sight, he hurled the heavy, oak pew as hard has he could, cause another wave of muscle throbbing. The pew sailed through the air, out the opening and through the windshield of the car, crushing the driver.
What Nathan didn't plan on was the driver pushing on the gas pedal, sending his jeep barreling through the church. He dove out of its path just in time. This time, he was able to tuck and roll as he planned and was on his feet again. Mayhem swept through the church sanctuary, as even more pews were unbolted from the ground. The jeep, traveling at such a high speed, burst through the wall on the other side.
Holy cow, this place is destroyed, he thought to himself. It didn't too much matter anymore. The church was closed and they were looking for a buyer for the property. What was significantly more important was the three men who coming through the opening firing automatic rifles at Nathan's head. He dodged the barrage of bullets and ducked behind a pew. He lifted another pew and hurled it at his pursuers. Two of them ducked, but one was knocked clean off of his feet and to the floor.
Nathan felt a stream of bullets hit him in the chest and he fell again. He looked to see that these also, were unable to break the skin, but they hurt even worse than the pistol rounds. He crawled underneath a pew so that he was hidden from sight. Hiding under the pews wasn't exactly the best idea, Nathan quickly decided. What was worse than being shot from a distance, he knew, was being shot from point blank range. He might not be so lucky to have the bullets bounce off him from a closer range. He still had two more to take care of and he couldn't think of a way of getting rid of one without getting riddled by bullets from the other's gun. A thought dawned on him as he crawled on the floor under the pews towards the general direction of the MCA agents. He saw a boot close to him and he grabbed it. He gripped it with all of the strength in his hands, feeling skin and bone give way. He tugged the man to the floor. His rifle fired of shots into the air and the wall as he screamed in pain. Nathan pulled him close and punched him in the face. He felt bone and pulp squish under his might blow…another certain kill.
The noise following was enormous. The other agent began furiously shooting downwards, through the pews. Nathan rolled, his swelling body barely able to clear the small space between the floor and the bottom of the pew. He was lucky enough to avoid getting shot from the first stream of bullets. He could hear the sound of the agent reloading, the metallic clang of an empty magazine dropping to the floor.
Now's my chance!
He jumped up from under a pew, unbolting it from the floor. He wrapped his arms around it, swung it like a massive baseball bat. The pew connected with the last agent, sending him up towards the balcony of the sanctuary. Suddenly, the man disappeared out of sight but there was a horrible crash from upstairs and then there was no movement at all. Nathan didn't have time to check and see if any of the others were dead. At that moment, the only thing on his mind was Lindsey.
The emergency exit door in the sanctuary was wide open, exposing the dusky, summer evening. He could see the mall across the street, closed because of damages and crimes committed during the day of the attack. As he stepped out into the warm, summer air he took a look to the right and the left, making for absolute certainty that Lindsey had gone the direction he'd thought she'd went. Even in the few minutes that she'd had to get a head start on him, was significant. He didn't know if he could travel fast enough to catch her, as she would no doubt be going as fast as her little blue car would take her. He had to give it a try.
He sprinted down the once busy road as fast as his legs would carry him. Everything was kind of at a standstill since the mutant attack. Everyone was staying inside their houses, humans to avoid mutants and mutants to avoid humans. It was completely absurd, Nathan thought. He didn't see any reason for people to fight just because of mutants. To him, he put it on the same level of unintelligence as racism, sexism or other forms of bigotry and prejudice. To discriminate and persecute someone just because they were different was hateful and evil. He'd always been open and proud that he was a mutant. For many sympathizers, he'd gained a lot of respect, but for those who hated mutants, he had had to deal with their antics. Once, someone at work had keyed the word "freak" into his brand new car. He wanted to rip the guy's head off, but he had a responsibility to mutantkind to keep his cool.
He cam to a stoplight, a few stray cars daring to come outside, were crossing perpendicular on their green light. He wasn't going to wait on a traffic light. He jumped into the air sailing way over the cars and back into his lane. He hadn't even noticed that he was staying squarely in the lane as if he were driving. It was just pure habit, he decided. He continued down the road and noticed a MCA jeep crushed and wrecked on the side of the road.
Oh well…one less that I won't have to take care of.
He found another one in even worse shape than the first next to the big music store at the bottom of the hill. He ran towards the grocery store, proceeding under the overpass. As he came up the next hill, he saw an MCA jeep, open and stopped in the middle of the lane. He looked down the hill and saw Lindsey's horribly wrecked car. In a flash, he was down in the wreckage, turning the tiny car over. There was no one inside. Other than some blood in the backseat, there was no sign of anyone being injured. He looked around by the jeep, finding several MCA agents dead on the ground but still no sign of Lindsey anywhere.
Was it possible that she could have survived the crash, put up a fight with the agents and then was caught? There were black tire marks from someone peeling out and away from the scene. He couldn't possibly know where it had come from. He stood, not knowing what to do or where to go. He had to get a hold of Lindsey somehow. Did he dare take the chance to go back to the house to get his cell phone? No, the MCA had probably already turned the house inside-out by now. Going back would mean that he'd have to start another fight and risk getting killed.
He was out of options, he had no place that he could go, no place to hide. He heard the distinct sirens of MCA cars approaching form not far away. One thing was for sure, and that was that he was done for one day with the MCA. He ran, with all of his might, unsure of where he was going. He ran though, leaving the love of his life's wrecked car behind without answers or any assurance that she was safe. He felt his muscles swell, stretch and expand as he continued to run.