Chapter One

Jean blinked open her eyes. It was almost dark; she must had slept through the day. A fire crackled warmly a few feet away, and she pulled her blanket closer around her shoulders, closing her eyes again. Wait a minute. Fire? Blanket? Jean sat up quickly, causing her head to spin.

"Sleep well, darlin'?"

Jean looked to her right. The same man from that morning sat next to the fire, poking it with a stick.

Jean blinked. "Who are you?"

He grunted. "Names Logan."

"Jean," she said cautiously.

"Must be a mutant," Logan said. "Being chased like that? And through the Sundarbans, too."

Jean narrowed her eyes. She looked at the log Logan was sitting on. She concentrated, and the log lifted into the air. Logan didn't even flinch. He raised an impressed eyebrow and smiled a bit. "Telekinetic. Impressive." Jean sat him back down.

"You showed me yours," Logan said, leaning back. "I'll show you mine."

Jeans eyes widened as three long, metal razor-sharp claw burst from each of his fists.

"Oh my God . . ." Jean looked at them amazed, and stood. "Can I – touch them?"

Logan looked surprised. "Um . . . sure."

Jean sat down on the log next to him, and ran her fingers over them. "Freaky, huh?" Logan asked.

"I think they're beautiful," Jean said softly, examining them.

Logan looked at Jean. She wondered what he was thinking. She couldn't exactly tell. . .

Logan slowly retracted his claws. "Let me help you with your injuries," he said, picking up a water canteen from beside of him. Then he picked up an old, tattered back pack and pulled a rag from it. "I, ah, I don't have any meds or anything," he said. "But better clean with water than nothing."

He gently wiped the gash in her cheek, brushing some of Jeans hair back. His touch was much gentler then Jean expected. She flinched at a tender bruise on her cheek, and Logan pulled back. "Sorry," he said.

"It's okay," Jean replied quietly. She frowned, looking down. Where were her team members? Professor Xavier still hadn't contacted her. He should have by now.

"You okay?" Logan asked.

Jean didn't reply. Of course she wasn't! Her team . . . "My team hasn't come for me," she said softly.

Logan blinked, and his gaze fell to her ripped outfit, to her belt. His eyes landed on the "X" on it. "Ah," he said with a small smile. "You're in with Xavier and his crowd."

"You know us?" Jean asked, surprised.

Logan shrugged. "I've seen you in the news. You're the one that fell in with the Fantastic Four once, right? Marvel Girl."

Jean hesitated, and then nodded. There was no point in lying. How many red haired mutants with telekinesis were there?

"You got some power on ya, darlin'," Logan said, smiling as he bandaged her wrist, which was sprained.

Jean winced, then sighed. "Thanks. It's hard, huh?"

"What, the mutation?" Logan asked.

"Yeah," Jean said. "It's like, none of my team gets me, you know? And sometimes, I can read peoples minds. I can't control it. I've never known another telepath before Xavier. But he says they're out there."

"Meet a telepath once," Logan said, facing her. "Real piece of work, she was. And when I say piece of work, I mean a crazy ice queen."

"That makes me feel better," Jean said sarcastically, but she smiled. "I don't think there are many mutants alike." She shook her head.

"Not a person in the world like Chuck Xavier," Logan agreed.

Jean nodded. "Well, that's for sure."

They were silent for a few moments, just the fire crackling. Then Logans brow furrowed, and he sniffed.

"Whats wrong?" Jean asked.

"Shh," Logan said, standing. He walked over toward the woods.

And then a bullet went through his head.