XvP: A Prelude
Up or down? He had awoken in a tiny chamber underground. He could sense the air above him; a few floors maybe. But was that too obvious? Was he being forced to into a trap? Kurt blinked briefly, thought of fleeing to the refuge blow. He blinked again, thinking of Xavier's warnings.
Jump One. That wasn't right. His target had vanished. He had jumped almost randomly. Kurt felt his heartbeat stop. It meant he was thinking. Time seemed to stand still.
It was dense down here, below the ancient city of Dresden. Incinerated by the Allies in the Nazi era, the catacombs had remained solid, baked and resolute.
"Something may be stalking us," Xavier had said. "It's searching for people like you and me."
And now he noticed there was an odor down here, part animal, part electrical; new to this place, but old to the art of the hunt. Maybe he could catch up with it?
Jump Two. He felt dizzy. He had felt himself fall. It was unusual for a mutant with his powers. Up and down were usually no barrier to him. He had bounced off a hidden net, bounced to a lower level. It was a carefully placed device mixed care with ruthlessness.
"Be careful," Xavier had said. "This newfound cousin you've heard from; they may be a trap; a snare."
There was a gurgle from the corridors. Maybe dark laughter? Kurt focussed and let himself jump again.
Jump Three. A corridor with green painted plaster, trimmed at the ceiling and floor with gilt painted strips of wood. This was acceptable to him.
"Do not take it on," Xavier had said. "Not until we know what it is; how it works."
But if Kurt could find it - he knew it was close - they could defend themselves. He would help them all.
A sniff of animal sweat, the tiny bump of plastic plates in body armor. This time it jumped. Kurt followed without hesitation.
Jump Four. A jumbled shrine to forgotten Greek super-heroes. Broken statues rescued from the Ottoman hordes. There was a presence in the shrine. It was not visible to his enhanced sight. Even in the dark he should have seen it. But there was stealth, and technology, and cunning at play.
"Any problem," Logan had said. "You can solve it with twenty questions. Just make sure there are two answers. Yes, no. Left, right. Up, down. One, zero." It was his party-piece, an attempt at defining logic.
But what was the question? Up or down; escape or pursuit; attack or defend.
Jump Five. He was in a cubicle with a cement floor. A small ledge held a row of fraying books with titles in old High German. Science and technology, shelved. Time seemed to stand still. But - now - was time running out?
"We found your cousin," the message from Rogue had said. "But she's acting out of character."
This could go right in only one way, and wrong in so many.
He tapped the tattoo on his left breast for luck. It was something he did often as a joke; like a baseball player. But this time he was looking for real luck. The only real home run was total escape.
Jump Six. Still air, but optimism. Stalls containing weapons from barbaric times, mostly junk. It was difficult for him to teleport down here. There were areas that he knew well, cells that he could flit to and from without danger. He had been on many secret tours with the Jesuits, the illuminati, the Opus Dei, the modern Templars. But these were just a fraction of what was down here. Two-thirds was unknown to him, three-fourths not accessible.
"It may try to watch you first," said Xavier. "Then it will match your powers."
It would be difficult to get lost in the upper layers, places he knew almost like home. But down deeper in the dungeon cavities there were cracks and nooks that could hide and hold a man (or mutant) forever. The Nightcrawler hardly ever ran, never ran in the dark, but this was different.
Jump Seven. Now he chose down. A strategic move. There were more chambers to the side; more options to head back up. He had to outwit his unseen pursuer. An invisible hunter, toying with its prey.
"A real killer will take you out before you know it," Logan had said. "A hunter pauses and thinks That's your chance."
Was it possible for Kurt to track this thing? He had done it before, found other mutants, but they almost never saw him coming.
Jump Eight. A corroded tank of beaten metal barely big enough to hold Kurt in its darkness. The predator was gone. Had it chosen a better path? Or had it chosen escape? A tiny tick at the back of his mind made him tilt his head. It was fear. Could he remember the way back? Was there a way back? He could have been killed in his sleep. Whoever dumped him here could have finished him off in a million silent ways. But this was pure malice; this was the decision to crush a mouse in a maze.
Jump Nine. A smaller cell, barely an intersection in some porous rock. Symbols like runes and alien landing lights were scratched into futile cement. There was still a chance. But the odds of escape were now over a million to one.
One last jump. What, then, was he thinking? What, then, could he aim for? A tiny, safe corner deep below the surface. Was he expecting a magic button? An elevator to the heaven, a stairway to Nirvana?
"Take care," Jubilee had said. "I don't want to have to avenge you."
Kurt curled his fingers into the wooden panel and…
Jump Ten. A space that was little more than a gap between rock formations. No air. A faint laugh vibrating down thru the depths. A head bumping the rocks, limbs trapped in wrong spaces. Game over.
XvP Continues in 'Brainstorm'