Here's where this story breaks away somewhat from the movies, and the original character makes his entry. (Please note, this Sabertooth is the black-haired and less animal-like Victor Creed from Wolverine: Origins, not the original X-Men movie.)
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Rogue froze for a few moments, staring at the spot Logan had vanished from. The attacker was still out of sight, for the moment. She tried turning the keys in the ignition, making the engine groan loudly before dying. Truck's totaled, She realized, trying to think, find some course of action. She looked around the cab several times, hoping for something useful to catch her eye—to her disappointment, finding nothing except the normal trash that built up during roadtrips. Gotta get out of here, that guy could be coming back… She forced herself to move, do something. The door squeaked loudly as she opened it and a moment later she was back on the road, the bitter winds chilling her face. Come'on come'on, what am I even supposed to due right now?!
And down the road, the hum of another vehicle approaching drifted towards here ears. Marie ran towards the oncoming van, waving her arms, hoping that whoever it was wasn't like the people she had read about who robbed accident victims…
The driver slammed the van to a halt around fifteen yards away, and after a moment's hesitation, got out. The terror shifted to hope as she bolted over to him. He looked around twenty-five, maybe 5'9", short brown hair, clean shaven, and was wearing a gray trench coat that made her think of Humphrey Bogart.
"You gotta help me!" She gasped out. "Logan, he was attacked! Some guy came out of nowwhere and threw him into the woods, they both vanished!" The stranger raised his eyebrows and took a step forward, hands raised in an attempt to calm her.
"Hey, calm down." He looked over at the smashed truck. "Ma'am, where you in the truck?" His accent marked him as definitely American, not a local Canadian.
"Yes, but I'm fine, you gotta help my friend!" She repeated, alarm rising.
"Someone attacked your friend?" The man repeated, looking around. Marie nodded. The newcomer grabbed her arm and half-dragged her over to his vehicle. "Get in the van and lock the doors, I'll look around, see if your friend is nearby." She obeyed, wondering if the man was a police officer, or maybe a soldier, judging by how smoothly he was reacting. The man waited until she clicked the door locks shut, then carefully trotted over to Logan's wrecked truck, surveying the damage from several angles before walking to the edge of the woods, looking around. Rogue glanced around the van's interior, feeling slightly safer inside the sturdy vehicle—it almost gave the feeling of being inside tank, thanks to the odd design.
Gggrawwrrr! A half-bellow-half-roar sounded, as if a tiger had escaped from a local zoo. The man leaped back towards the middle of the road, his hand vanishing under his coat then re-reappearing with a handgun. BLAM!BLAM!BLAM! The 9mm pistol cracked three times in a second, making Rogue involuntarily cringe and cover her ears as the newcomer shot at something she couldn't see. The attacker leaped out of the woods and into sight, bounding straight at the man, who jumped to the side. The attacker twisted in mid-leap, and his foot connected with the newcomer's hand, making the pistol fly through the air and bounce off the van's windshield. Rogue finally got a clear look. The attacker towered almost a foot over the newcomer, and looked like he weighed at least sixty pounds more. The newcomer's expression of polite and focused calm broke and he looked openly fearful as he backed up, taking out a small knife and holding it defensively.
"Back off!" The stranger growled, ridiculously trying to intimidate the attacker into leaving. Rogue was fairly sure now that her good samaritan was probably a soldier. The bikers had acted much differently, brawling at the cage matches she had seen; this guy acted like he had professional training.
The attacker burst out laughing at the meager show of defiance, a grin on his face. "Where'd you get that? The last gas station you filled up at?" The newcomer didn't respond. The attacker suddenly lunged forward, like a huge cat charging its prey. The newcomer jumped to the side again, but the attacker anticipated the move and easily took him down with an outstretched arm. The newcomer thrashed under the bigger man, and suddenly the knife's three-inch blade found it's way into the attacker's shoulder, making him recoil in surprise and pain. The stranger seized the opportunity to roll away and regain his feet, panting. The huge attacker ripped the knife out and tossed it away, his initial amusement replaced by fury.
"Maybe you should just leave." The newcomer suggested, starting to regain his breath. The attacker smirked and tore the cloth away from the wound. The gouge stopped bleeding almost immediately. Two seconds later it had vanished before their eyes. The attacker chuckled, then, to Marie's shock and horror, took a large step forward and simply kicked the newcomer in the chest. The man flew six or seven feet through the air before colliding with a tree and bouncing off it to the ground, not moving. The attacker chuckled again and started walking over to the unconscious body—BLAM! The bullet struck the attacker in the arm, and he turned to see Marie now outside the van, holding the newcomer's semiautomatic pistol. He raised an eyebrow and gave her a look that said You're kidding, right?
TSSEWW! A red beam lanced out of the woods, smashing into the attacker's back, sending him tumbling through the air in awkward roll. Rogue involuntarily shrieked and fell back, the weapon slipping through her hands and clattering on the ground. The attacker recovered from the blow and snarled at something she didn't see. Another beam shot forward, making the attacker flee.
Rogue managed to regain her feet and stumble to the front of the van, looking for whatever now had materialized. First a crazy nut that attacked Logan, then some cop or soldier or whatever a little older than her, now… She spotted them—not like they were wearing camouflage or hiding. It was a man and a woman, both dressed in black leather, trotting through the snowy woods towards them.
"It's alright." The woman called over to her. "We're here to help."
"I'm Scott, and this is my wife Jean." The man said. He had a weird set of goggles or something on, Rogue had never seen any like them.
"I'm Marie," she replied faintly, leaning against the front of the van, the fading adrenaline rush leaving a shaky, electric feeling in her limbs, hoping she wouldn't faint. She pointed at the knocked-out guy, "I have no idea what his name is, and if you find another knocked out guy in the woods over there, his name's Logan." Jean strode over to the man, checking him for injuries like a doctor. She looked up, her gaze meeting Scott's.
"Alive, but he's going to need some patching up." She informed him.
"Let's find the other guy and get back." Scott said, running of into the woods where Rogue had pointed.
"Did you bring a car?" Rogue asked, looking around a few times. The woman smiled.
"Better." She said. "Private jet."
"Oo-kay…" Rogue said slowly. After all the insanity that had happened so far, the woman claiming they had brought a jet didn't seem as bizarre as it usually would have. The woman noticed the mild state of shock Marie was in. Her expression shifted, becoming warmer.
"Your friend here needs some medical help, and 'Logan' probably will too, when Scott finds him." Jean said, her voice reassuring. "And you can't stay here with that lunatic running around. Why don't you come back with us? We operate out of a mansion in New York—you'd love it."
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The original character, I think, will serve a neat point. In X-Men movies and cartoons, the normal humans are almost always disposed of by the villains with ease. That's a little unfair, in my unimportant opinion, so in this story, the original character will be the ordinary human who fights against the superpower bad guys.
Note, while I said ordinary, I wasn't excluding a human with training with firearms and experience in fighting. But don't worry, he won't carry Samurai swords or anything crazy, and he's far from a martial arts expert or special forces member, so I think he counts as an ordinary person.
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