Jean-Paul loaded the coordinates into the Beemer's GPS, hit the auto-start and sat back as the powerful German engine purred to life. He gave a satisfied smile as Jono crawled into the backseat, while Remy claimed shotgun.
"Ready?" Jean-Paul asked with a sly grin. He steered the car out of the garage, down the narrow road away from the school, then opened it up once they reached the main road. Despite himself, Remy made a small hissing sound and reached for the door handle, holding on tight. From the back, Jono was clearly entertained by Remy's reaction to Jean-Paul's mad driving skills. He realized he didn't get out often enough, and was actually enjoying himself. He had to fight the urge to give a telepathic shout of glee.
"Merde, Jean-Paul...you drive like you fly," Remy muttered. He heard Jono's telepathic equivalent of a laugh. The usually dour and cynical Beaubier grinned.
"Not to worry, Gambit, I will get us there alive." Jean-Paul goosed the gas around a sharp turn, handling the sleek vehicle with skill. Remy looked like he was going to puke. Jono thrilled at the speed, the danger, the almost reckless freedom of it all.
After an hour of driving through the country, they were nearly to their destination.
*Up ahead, Frenchie. See the sign?* Jono pointed to a faded billboard advertising "Le Cirque du Bizarre, 1 mile ahead" with a list of attractions including, to Jono's dismay, a "Fantastical Freak Show, Guaranteed to Make You Scream in Terror!"
"Tabarnac," Jean-Paul muttered, unable to suppress a shudder of disgust. He turned and drove slowly down the old, heavily wooded road. There was nothing around, just fields and tumbledown barns. This was a part of upstate New York none of them had really seen before. In the hazy light of dawn, it seemed eerie. Another sign directed them to a small dirt road. Jean-Paul pulled over and killed the engine.
"We walk from here," Jean-Paul said. After a moment's hesitation, he handed Remy the keys. Remy gave him a questioning look. "In case the boy...in case I must fly him out."
Remy nodded sharply and took the proffered keys. He tucked them inside the pocket of his coat. "Let's go find him, eh?"
*Bugger me, I never did like these places,* Jono said as the trio trudged through the abandoned circus.
"Give me de creeps," Remy replied, nodding. His head was on a swivel, eyes scanning the grounds. Whoever had been running the place, they hadn't stuck around long enough to even dismantle the tents or rides. At the end of the fairway, past the shuttered food stands and other ramshackle huts, they saw it: the Side Show. It was a smaller tent, torn and ragged, the worst of a bad lot. They could see no movement inside. The air was still, no sounds, not even insects or birds. It was a surreal feeling.
"Can you...can you hear him, Jono? Remy, anything?" Jean-Paul asked, his body tensed, standing on the balls of his feet.
"Not'ing. Not'ing at all," Remy whispered, paling noticeably. He brushed his auburn hair from his eyes.
Jono stood still, eyes closed, scanning for anything, any thoughts other than their own.
*Can yer 'ear me? It's Jono, lad. I'm here wif Remy and Jean-Paul. We came for yer, luv.* Jono waited, fear twisting inside him when he got no answer. Then, so faint it was like a sigh in his ear, he heard him:
*Jono...Jono...I am...dying…*
*NO. Don't yer say it, lad, don't yer dare!* Jono looked at his companions, fear written clearly on his face. They'd all "heard" the exchange between him and the boy, and shared his concern.
Remy ran into the tent, his friends right behind him. Inside were row after row of crudely constructed huts, each containing a cage. The first advertised the Two-Headed Girl. Another, the Fat Lady. The Snake Man. Many more just like them. All empty.
Then, the last exhibit: The Mongoose Boy. That's where they found him. Curled up in the far corner of the cage, lying on a pile of old straw, was the slight, pale body of a child. He was dressed only in a torn pair of shorts. Remy figured him for about seven years old, maybe even younger. It was hard to tell, he seemed so small lying there. For a long moment, they could only stand there, overwhelmed by the sight, as if they couldn't believe what they were seeing. It was impossible, almost, to accept that anyone was capable of such cruel abuse and neglect.
"We're here, petit!" Remy said, shaking off the shock. "Just you hang on, honey, we gonna get you outta dere!" The still form did not move in response to Remy's voice. A small burst of kinetic energy from Remy's fingertip was enough to fry the old, rusty lock from the door of the cage. Remy went right to the boy, afraid of what he might find: that they hadn't gotten there in time. The very idea filled Remy with a cold dread.
Kneeling beside the boy, Remy gently rolled him over onto his back. He felt his heart ache at the sight of the sweet-faced child, a ragged and dirty stuffed mouse tucked in the crook of his arm. Beside him was a dented metal dog bowl; it was almost empty, with just an inch of scummy water remaining on the bottom. Remy couldn't help the involuntary shudder that danced up and down his spine at the thought of the little boy drinking from it. Quickly, Remy checked the child's pulse - it was fast and weak, his breathing shallow but regular. Remy's relief was obvious.
"Talk to me, cher," Remy whispered, stroking the boy's sweaty forehead.
Jean-Paul gazed at the child. "Is he…?" His voice trailed off, and he was unable to finish the question. He felt a wave of sickness turn his gut. There were definite signs of long-term abuse: old bruises and scars on his body, ligature marks worn into the skin of his neck. They'd kept him chained. On his wrists and ankles were heavy leather cuffs that appeared to have been sewn on. Why, was anybody's guess.
"He's alive," Remy said. There were tears in his eyes as he lifted the boy into his arms. He was a mutant, they could see, a beautiful, almost angelic child, with skin like aged ivory. He had a sweet, heart-shaped face, tipped-up nose, hair the color of an old penny. His ears were large, sail-shaped and covered with a fine fur that was lighter than his hair. A long, thick tail, the same rust red as his ears, trailed down his legs. His hands and feet were clawed.
*Bloody 'ell,* Jono muttered. He couldn't wrap his head around the idea that someone had taken this small mutant, just a child, and kept him chained in a cage for the amusement of others. He wanted nothing more than to hunt down whoever had done this and blast them into ashes.
Remy was looking down at the boy in his arms. There was an odd expression on the Cajun's face.
"Wake up, little one," Remy whispered, lowering his shields and reaching out to the boy, not with thoughts, but with emotion, with tenderness. "C'mon now honey, wake up for Remy."
The boy's eyes fluttered open. They were large, the color of molten gold, fringed with thick, dark lashes and framed by arching brows. "Remy?" the boy croaked. He turned his gaze then to the others. "Jono? I heard your voice...I heard you all."
Jono fought back tears. *Yer done real good, luv.*
"Merci Dieu," Jean-Paul whispered, relieved that the boy was conscious and talking. When he'd first seen him lying so still, Jean-Paul's heart had sunk, afraid that they'd been too late. Jono reached out and squeezed his shoulder. For a brief moment, Jean-Paul leaned into Jono's touch, then quickly pulled back.
The boy turned his golden eyes on Northstar. "You came for me..." He stopped, seemed to be struggling to breathe, as if just talking exhausted him. "I did not think you would be able to find me. I was so scared. But I kept trying...and you did…" He coughed, a raw, painful sound emanating from deep in his chest. It sounded as if his lungs were full of fluid.
"Oui, mon chou. You were very brave. And you must be brave still. It is almost over, darling," Jean-Paul said, gently stroking his forehead. He frowned. The boy was burning up; he could feel the heat of his skin even through his gloves. He looked at Remy with a pained, worried expression. "He's very sick, Remy. You need to give him to me. I must get him to Henri."
The boy reached up and touched Remy's face. "I dreamed of you most of all," he sighed in his softly accented English. Jono cocked his head to one side; he thought he knew, now, where the boy was from.
Remy kissed him on the forehead, wincing as he felt the boy's raging fever. "We gonna get you somewhere safe, cher. Jean-Paul, he gonna take you to our friend, get you all fixed up." Remy kissed him again, then reluctantly handed him off to Northstar. "Be careful wit' him, Jean-Paul." He dug the keys out of his coat, then stripped it off, handed it to Jean-Paul. Nodding, Jean-Paul wrapped the boy in it, then tucked him close against his own body.
"I expect you back at the school - not a scratch on my car - within an hour, LeBeau," Jean-Paul said firmly. "And you, Jono...we will discuss this 'Frenchie' unpleasantness later, I assure you." It was obvious he was trying hard to stay calm, reverting to his bitchy persona as a way of protecting himself. He didn't wait for a reply before streaking away into the early morning sky.
Jono shielded his eyes against the sun, watching until the speedster was out of sight. He felt a deep sense of satisfaction, and relief. Unfortunately for him, Remy didn't share those feelings. The Cajun was radiating anger.
"I want dem," Remy hissed, anger building rapidly. All that swallowed rage, all that hidden pain, it threatened to come bubbling to the surface. "I'm gonna kill who did dis, Jono!"
Jono flinched under Remy's empathic assault. He grabbed his friend's arm.
*Stop! Jesus Remy, ease up, mate!* Jono cried; his shields were still down, and he started to buckle under the onslaught of his friend's wild fury, free from restraint.
Remy whirled around and saw Jono bent over, hand pressed to his head. He looked like he was about to faint. Remy caught Jono in his arms, held him steady as he dropped to his knees.
"Désolé! I'm so sorry, Jono!" He cupped Jono's pale face in his hands, made him look at him. "Jono, I didn't mean to hurt you, cher, I was just so angry…"
Jono nodded weakly. *I know yer didn't mean ter, ducks. Took me off guard, is all.* Jono crinkled his eyes, those beautiful, soft brown eyes of his. Remy pressed his forehead against Jono's in relief. For a long moment, the two men stayed there, face to face, touching, arms around one another in mutual reassurance and comfort.
"Merci, Jono," Remy whispered as he helped Jono to his feet. "Don't mean to rush you, cher, but we best be goin' before Northstar come and hunt us down, neh?" He paused and took a deep breath. "I need to see de boy. I need to know he gonna be alright."
Jono nodded. *Then lets see just 'ow fast that sexy German bitch can go, eh mate?*