X2: Survivors
Stacy was exhausted. Roughly two days and three nights of riding onward through mostly winter storms had drained almost all of her energy. Her clothes were constantly damp, she was aching with stiffness and chill, and she was beginning to be concerned about falling asleep on her bike. She couldn't imagine ever being more relieved when Donovan told them that their journey was almost over as the night began to end.
The eternally smooth purr of her bike was just starting to lull her dangerously close to sleep when she heard a shout from Donovan in his car.
"We're almost there. Another half hour or so and we'll be able to have a good, long sleep."
"Thank you God," Stacy moaned in relief.
Sure enough, just as she felt as if she couldn't go much farther, the outline of a large cluster of buildings came into sight. The vehicles revved as they sped even faster towards their destination.
They entered an abandoned town, or a very small city. Stacy peered around as they rode. She took in the depressing sights of abandoned homes, empty stores, and a barren play park in the center of the town. The rusty swings creaked forlornly as the biting wind swung them back and forth, swirling the snowflakes about with their back and forth motion. The thick snowflakes muffled almost all sound, so the town truly did live up to the term ghost town.
The small procession wound its way through the streets until they reached a small warehouse district.
Slowly, Donovan motioned for the vehicles and for the running Dominic to halt. The engine sounds died as they slid to a stop in a narrow alley. Donovan climbed out and made his way to a heavy looking door set in the south wall of one of the buildings. After peering around for a minute, the black-haired boy removed a thin metal wand from his pants pocket and then proceeded to tap and scrape a complicated pattern of sounds. With one last clang against the door he stepped back and waited. For a minute there was nothing, before with a deep groan the door heaved open.
Stacy and Christopher gulped a bit. The boy standing in the doorway was very tall and muscular, and was carrying, of all things, a futuristic looking battle axe. His eyes were sharp, both dangerous and intelligent. But the moment he saw them the grim expression vanished to be replaced by a kind smile.
"You are back. Good, some of the others were getting worried. Come in, Hell has frozen outside," the boy said in a Russian accent. Then a confused look came over his face as he peered around. "Where is Evangeline?"
Donovan answered as he shepherded everyone inside. "Said she had to be somewhere else. She'll be back as soon as she can." The Russian nodded, seeming to get what he was talking about.
"Well," he said as he turned to the new recruits. "It's nice to have you with us. I am Nikolai Dmitriev. Let's go further in, it's much warmer inside."
The two newcomers tagged along in the young man's long strides. They wound through a couple of narrow corridors, and as they went farther in they could begin to hear the sounds of life. Stacy and Chris felt their heartbeats speed up a bit. It had been a long time since either had had much interaction with many people at the same time. They were both nervous and excited.
When they finally stepped into the center area, they were both a little overwhelmed. There was so much noise and bustling of people that it was a little hard to take in at first. When they at last got their senses about them, the two observed a large square common area with a very high ceiling. The lighting higher up was industrial and rather pale, but lower down the light of candles and old lanterns gave it a warmer glow. Littering the room and nearly hiding the whole floor were old recliner chairs, bean bags, blankets of all sizes and thickness, and pillows. It almost reminded Chris of the little rat's nest made of fabric scraps he had found in the house he had been hiding in. But instead of rats or mice, the room was crowded to the very farthest corners with mutants. The oldest of them couldn't be over twenty three or so, but there were still many of them. Groups of little kids barely out of their toddler years sat around an ancient television that kept flickering in and out of focus. Slightly older mutants were sitting or lying on the cushioned floor reading, tossing a baseball around, playing cards, or napping in the tangled heaps of bedding. Several of the oldest residents were slumbering to the best of their abilities in the chairs.
At the sides of the room were several metal staircases that wound upward around the walls, leading to different rooms and hallways on the higher floors. From an open doorway in the south wall of the common room came the smells of actual hot food.
"They're back!" Suddenly a swarm of little children came flowing toward them, while the slightly older ones drifted over more slowly, still curious enough to investigate. Stacy and Chris stared as the tiny mutants bobbed around Dominic and Donovan, asking questions and just being generally noisy. Two boys who were obviously twins jumped up on Dominic's back, who proceeded to deliver a thorough tickling. Soon the Latino teleporter was swamped under a tide of children who realized someone older had the energy to play. Donovan meanwhile told the kids about all the adventures they had while they were gone. Stacy smiled faintly. Even in their waste of a world, these teenagers had managed to bring back some happiness to others.
Chris, who was slightly behind the others, suddenly jumped forward with fright when he heard a strange noise, like the slide and hum of a copy machine, nearby him. He turned and saw a lopsided mirror on the wall. It shifted in texture oddly, going from a glass-like appearance to more resemble the surface of a silver bubble. The surface bent weirdly before a dart of light shot out of it and reformed into a human shape, all within the span of a second or so. The human shape finally redefined into a well-built boy with whitish blonde hair mussed into careless disarray on one side. A lopsided grin spread casually across his face and his strangely two-tone eyes glinted.
"Oh good, we've got newbies," he said. "It's always good to see new faces. I'm Gabriel Carter or Tcelfer on missions." He stuck a hand out to Chris first, who slowly shook it. He then cast his glance to Stacy with his smile becoming obviously more flirtatious.
"And what's your name beautiful?"
Stacy crossed her arms, wondering whether to be amused or annoyed. She still felt a little disconnected from other people and was having trouble responding to things properly.
"Stacy Blackstone," she mumbled in an unintentionally irritable tone. Gabriel however didn't seem to care much and good naturedly clapped her on the shoulder. It was a bit shocking, but not unwelcome.
"It's nice to meet you both, now that you're joining our little club. But first, I bet you're hungry. Come on and you can get some decent food. By the way, what's Limb been feeding you; those disgusting sandwiches?"
"I take them along because they don't spoil and they give a lot of energy," Donovan said with a roll of his eyes. "I'm not a fan of them either, at least not for the taste."
Gabriel shrugged. "Where's Evangeline? Off doing her lone wolf thing again?" The nod he received confirmed his suspicions as he shook his head with a half smirk on his face.
The newcomers followed Tcelfer as he dodged about among the Nest, as they had heard the little kids calling it. It seemed an appropriate title. They passed through the open doorway and entered what were once probably a facility kitchen and a once-separate dining area. The wall dividing the two rooms had been knocked down to join the rooms together. The kitchen area was filled with concrete counters and ancient appliances. Anywhere else where there was space were scattered a hodgepodge of tables and chairs. The places were already beginning to fill up with people. Moving about the kitchen area was a small team of mutants preparing a meal. Stacy and Chris watched as one boy balanced an old pan in his flaming hand while stirring something in a pot with the other.
"You arrived just in time for the early breakfast," Gabriel told them. "We have to have two because we have too many people to fit in this room at one time. Also, some of us are really early risers while others like to sleep in until almost noon. After you eat you'll be introduced to the rest of the Seekers, but for now go ahead and grab some grub. We'll see you later," Gabriel said before slipping from the room.
Stacy and Chris needed no more persuasion. They joined the queue of hungry mutant boarders as they filed in for their food. They then found spaces near the ends of the plethora of tables. The food, while certainly not gourmet, was hot and reasonably plentiful. And barely before they were aware of it, the pair found themselves beginning conversations with a few other young mutants.
They were just chatting amicably when they heard Donovan calling to them from the doorway. Jumping up they followed him out as he led them up several flights of stairs and into a small room with only a few couches and chairs. A group of only about seven, not including themselves, sat or stood around. They all looked up as Donovan led them inside.
"Guys, these are Stacy Blackstone and Christopher Nightingale. Stacy and Chris, meet the X2 Seekers. You've met Tcelfer and Amplitude," he said, gesturing to the two boys. "Also here we have Patricia West, or Pause. We call her Trish." He pointed out a tall and bony blonde with frizzy hair and glasses. "Then there is Dominic Valdez, or Jump, Courtney 'Ivy' Davis, and Spring Sommers who is also called Ripple. The last two guys are Draco 'Astro' Mannik, and Tyson Morris codename Skyline." Each Seeker nodded or waved when they were introduced.
Stacy looked around. "There are fewer of you than I expected. You seem to have made a lot of impact for so few people."
Pause spoke up. "It's a risky occupation. Some people leave, some join other teams, and some people never make it back from missions. But we work to do whatever we can to help." The statement sounded blunt and grim, but no one could doubt the sincerity of it.
Donovan spoke again. "Basically, now it's just your choice whether or not you'll join us as Seekers or if you'll just stay here for shelter. You can see that most people don't choose to join us, and that's perfectly fine."
There was a moment of silence before Chris spoke up. "I'll join you. I want to help others like you helped me."
"Me too," Stacy said. She was sure of her decision; it felt right. The Seekers grinned at them. It had been far too long since newcomers had joined their small force.
"Alright," Donovan nodded. "Then all that's left for us to do is for you to pick codenames."
After some moments of thought, Stacy declared herself Static and Chris became Lotusfire. Their new team approved of the names, but when Trish spotted the two yawning widely she stood up.
"Let me show you your rooms. When it's proper daylight outside we can start getting you familiar with the place and the routines. Also, you'll need to start some training."
The tall blonde led them from the room and up several more flights of stairs. When she reached the floor she was headed toward, she pointed down the corridor in both direction.
"There are dorm rooms with space on this floor, the girls' one is the fifth door down on the left, and the boys' is on the third door up on the right. There should be some spare pillows and sleeping bags inside."
The two new Seekers separated into their respective rooms. Stacy pulled open the door to see a small space with a slanted roof. It was a good thing that Stacy was not a very tall girl, or she might have bumped her head upon entering. Despite the small amount of room, every spare space of floor was crammed with mounds of blankets or with sleeping bags.
Stacy suddenly felt a wave of depression wash over her. Just looking at this setup brought all the misery of her world rushing back. Her whole race was condemned to this, hiding in abandoned buildings like rodents, or worse. There were no X-men, no fair government, and no strong heroes that could liberate them from this dystopian present.
Maybe this is why I chose to be a Seeker, she thought. Maybe this way, something could change. But like Trish had said, it was a hazardous occupation. She couldn't hope for miracles too soon.
After retrieving a spare sleeping bag and pillow from the corner, Stacy set up her own place near to a glassless window in the wall, which was covered by a tacked up blanket to block out some of the cold. Peeking out, she observed the snow-covered wilderness, and the faint hue of orange from the approaching sunrise tinting the clouds.
Welcome home Stacy, was her last thought before her head hit the pillow.
The sun was rising cheerily into a clear sky. The faint sound of bird song drifted about on the roaming wind. But no matter how cheerful the morning appeared it couldn't quite erase the aura of despair drifting over the land from the city skyline, around which was wrapped the belt of the mutant community, slaves to their captors and to their genetics.
There was an abandoned barn not far out of the belt; close enough to see clearly the outlines of the power plants, factories, and electricity/power towers that painted a crude and harsh industrial scene over the landscape, but far enough that it was out of range of any human eyes watching from the large walls trapping the enslaved mutants inside. Inside this barn was a threat, one of very large proportions. Not that the humans knew that.
There was a sneeze from somewhere in the dusty interior.
"I'm sick of waiting! I don't even know why we're still here, we could pull this off now and be done with it," a voice hissed. It belonged to a girl who was crouched among the rafters of the barn, perched with utter ease in the precarious position. She was an exotically pretty girl, with slanted and angular features that set her apart from any other Ms. Americana with similar blonde hair and fair skin. Her larger than average eyes glinted like liquid silver in the sun that was leaking in.
Her complaint was aimed at her leader, who was sitting on an old haystack below her. The young man looked up, intense green eyes set in an equally grim face. He frowned up at the female in the rafters.
"I told you, he said that if he felt like joining us he would meet us here at this time. Now be patient."
The girl scoffed. "I don't see why we need him. He isn't really one of us, and how useful could he be? He can't even talk."
The dark-haired boy growled. "He's a mutant with power, which we could always use, and I think no talking would be an improvement right now. If you weren't one of our strongest fighters Spice, I would have kicked your ass out long ago."
The pretty girl snorted as she dropped from the high ceiling. She landed perfectly on the balls of her feet with hardly a sound. She smirked as she swayed her way towards her leader, sashaying with as much confidence and swagger as her obvious beauty permitted.
"Is that the real issue here James?" she asked, pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes as she drew nose to nose with him. "Or is it because I'm not a certain mutant by the moniker of Sonata? I'm not good enough for you?" She put on a false pout, leaning in close to James with a patronizing glare in her silver eyes.
"I think that's enough Antonia," mumbled a quiet voice from a darker corner of their hiding place. The speaker was mostly hidden in shadow, but a strange buzzing noise was coming from that direction.
Spice, or Antonia, curled her lip into a convincing snarl. "Don't call me that. It's just Tonia." Nevertheless, she stalked away from her leader. With a tremendous leap, she caught onto the rafters again and returned to her perch. "Well he better get here soon or I'll go by myself."
"No you wouldn't," James said coldly. "Not without my orders." He then resumed his silent waiting as the sun climbed higher.
Time passed and Spice grew steadily more restless. She paced about, jumped around on the different structures, and then began to sharpen a pair of wicked-looking Sai blades. She was grinding away at the metal with her whetting stone with intensity, when she suddenly stiffened up. Instantly, Spice's face shifted. Silver fur sprouted from the skin all along her body, and her features changed to those of a feline. Silvery claws erupted from her hands as Spice let out a cougar-like roar, whirling around and brandishing her weapons.
"Spice, cool it! Claws back in. It's just him," James said as he pushed away from where he had been leaning. He went forward to meet their new guest. "Glad to see you again Dane."
The arrival was another boy with a slim build and dark hair, dark turquoise eyes flashing in the golden light. His face was serious, but strangely open. He didn't speak, but merely shook hands with James, nodding his head in place of words.
James turned to his two companions. "You guys have never met before, so an introduction is probably in order. This is Danish Khan, he's worked with the Outcasts before, but he prefers to move around."
Spice, having recovered from her aggression and momentary anger at being called off, sent him a winning smile. Danish returned it with a raised eyebrow and slightly quirked lip. His face was surprisingly expressive despite his overall seriousness. Whether it was just a natural trait or something he had adapted because he was mute was unsure.
"Hi there," Spice said. "Tonia Hart, also called Spice." She winked at him, and this time both of his eyebrows rose.
The third Outcast paused in his dark corner, before slowly moving forward into the light. While his companions were average looking enough with the occasional anomaly, this boy was beyond all doubt a mutant. He was utterly devoid of hair anywhere on his pale profile. His facial features, while shaped to be handsome, were badly marred by large black eyes that were segmented and faceted like that of a bug. They were highly unnerving with no focus or pupil to speak of. The forearms, hands, and abdomen of his black and olive uniform were left exposed, revealing the most disturbing aspect of his mutation. The exposed areas were pock-marked with tiny orifices in the skin, which seemed to bubble and stretch in odd places. Crawling in and out of these openings were glittering black wasp-like creatures, their flapping wings creating a perpetual field of buzzing around their host and creator. The boy seemed to have no issue as they crept up and down his arms and stomach and then back into his body.
Danish cocked his head, his eyes widening a bit at this mutant. The wasp boy halted, eyeing him apprehensively and a bit defensively. But he relaxed when the mute young man's expression softened a bit, and he held out his hand. The wasp boy shook it, looking slightly pleased when one of the black wasps crawled over Danish's hand and the other boy didn't even react.
"Cornelius Fraas," said the wasp mutant quietly. "I'm also known as Hive."
Dane nodded, before he mouthed one word, motioning to indicate himself. Scream.
Spice giggled a bit. "Ironic codename for someone who can't talk." Danish sent her a look that clearly said, just wait and see.
"Now that the introductions are done with, I think we can get to planning," James said. The others looked at him with an aggressive eagerness as they thought of the task they were to enact soon. Their leader held up his hands in a halting gesture. "Not quite yet. Planning for this job is essential, because it won't be any half-assed break and run this time. This is a big project. This time, we'll be breaking out as many mutants as possible, and nothing is going to get in our way as long as we set this up right."
Spice snarled with eagerness, her silver cat tail whipping back and forth with anticipation. "Just tell us what to do and it'll happen."
James Mortant, codename Phalanx, smiled a bit. Spice might be hotheaded and reckless far too often, but there was no denying she made the Outcasts proud. She was strong, stubborn, and not afraid to do what needed doing in order to fulfill her missions. Reaching back into his haystack, Phalanx retrieved a black backpack that bulged out in places. Zipping it open, he removed blue prints, photographs, a well-drawn map, several metallic objects that might have been keys, and several small communication devices. He placed the paraphernalia on top of a crate before placing his hands on it and leaning forward toward his team.
"We have two days to set this up before zero hour. Then, it's jailbreak time."
Dakota panted as she scratched at her power suppression collar, thanking the heavens that the first shift was over. With mutants who possessed power over plants, their slave masters could now work their crop fields year 'round. Her muscles were aching and her legs felt like jelly. Baling hay required mutants with enhanced strength to drag the bales along rather than waste fuel by using farming equipment. Dakota fell under this category, and now her muscles burned with acid and her hands were badly scratched from the stiff stalks. Unfortunately, she would only get a brief lunch before being shunted along to the power and electricity centers to continue working on the towers.
Suddenly, a loud blare came from the loudspeakers mounted on metal poles planted all around the mutant compounds. A droning voice echoed over the fields and work zones.
MUTANT WORKERS OF SECTIONS 15 AND 16 WILL BE EXCLUDED FROM SECOND SHIFT DUE TO HAZARDOUS CONDITIONS IN WORK AREAS. REPORT TO THE HEAD OF YOUR WORK STATIONS AND RETURN TO YOUR RESIDENCE DISTRICTS.
Dakota stood straight, feeling both relief and disgust. The whole announcement was bogus; if there were hazardous conditions then mutants would be the ones that had to deal with it. They only made this kind of announcement when the work masters ended up killing one of the workers, whether on accident or on purpose. The humans had had to put down more than one furious uprising from the slaves when one of their kind was blatantly slain in front of them. So the high ups liked to make sure no mutants were in the vicinity while they handled clean up. How they thought that the mutants didn't know what was going on was a mystery to her, but Kota simply suspected humans just thought they were little smarter than animals.
But whatever the circumstances, Kota did feel grateful for the break, however unsympathetic to the random dead mutant it might be. Now she had the rest of the day to herself. She didn't even consider going back to the farmhouse, not with little douchebag Sergio lurking around.
After checking in her name with her section work head, she walked back into the shanty, fenced in community where the mutants lived. Kota headed straight for the 'bar' where mutants could go. It was hardly a bar in the sense of the word, with very little in the way of entertainment, drinks that could barely get a mouse tipsy, and cameras stationed in every corner, but it was a place one could go to socialize and at least try to shut out the cruel world outside.
When Dakota entered the place it was already packed. The mutants with some time off sat and chatted wearily, or drank, or played what little recreational games they were allowed. Which were about two things, cards and checkers.
"Kota!" She turned as the voice called to her. A hand waved to her from one of the largest tables in the rear of the room. A group of mutants she often spent time with when they had spare time was seated there. With decisive steps she weaved her way through the crowds toward them, and then slipped into a spare seat.
"Poker?" she asked as the tattered cards were dealt around the table of seven mutants, including her.
"Yep," was the reply from an absolutely gorgeous young woman who was dealing the cards. Her black hair swept around her in midnight-colored curtains, while very pale green eyes glinted in a face Michelangelo would have cut off his hand to capture. Despite her beauty though, her face had a bitter set to the features.
Dakota leaned back in her chair. "Great, Strobe's dealing. Somehow that never works out for the rest of us."
"Or maybe your poker face needs work Kota."
The wolf girl turned to look at the speaker, a boy about her age with spiky rusty-red hair and bleached blonde tips. His nose was wide, bridging over a wide slash of a mouth and a red goatee. His amber eyes glinted with teasing amusement. She glared at him.
"Shut up Leo. At least I don't wear a big ass grin on my face whenever I have a decent hand," she snapped at him.
He leaned back in his rickety chair, holding up his hands. "Geez, I was just teasing, you don't need to bite my head off. Is she always this snappish?" He asked Strobe, who merely shrugged.
The second boy at the table leaned forward. "Well Leo, you should know better than to poke the wolf." This boy was taller than Leo, with blonde hair flopping in his soft turquoise eyes.
Leo rolled his eyes. "I thought lion beat wolf when it came down to it."
"Not in a verbal fight. Kota would kick you all across the district and back again in that area." The blonde said with a slight grin.
At last, the third girl at the table got tired of the conversation. She flicked her frizzy brown curls from her face and turned her equally dark gaze across the table.
"As lovely as all this banter is, free periods don't come around that often and I would like to play some cards. Benj, if Leo wants to take his chances with Kota then let him. Should be funny. And Ty, why don't you start."
"Just like you to take over Juke," Kota grumbled as the sixth member of their party, a demonic looking mutant with red skin, horns, and shark teeth began the game. The seventh of their group, a boy named Jesse Taylor, said nothing but kept an amused smirk on his face.
Dakota looked around the table. Tyler and Leo Dyson were brothers; Benj Dents was their god/adopted brother. The three had been in the internment camps for only about two months. The odd family had managed to duck capture for some time, but then they had made the mistake of wandering too close to the city of Lincoln, Nebraska where they were caught and were now enslaved along with their brethren. Ever since coming in, Leo had gotten on Kota's nerves, but not for the reason one would think. He had a fighter's spirit, and held onto the hope of escape. He had yet to make his first attempt, and this was what bothered Kota. She admired Leo for his determination, but she dreaded the day she saw the brave young man break with the realization that he was a slave, that there was no escape. Benj was far quieter, but she could see the same determination within him. Their brother Ty though, seemed to be grasping the reality of the situation. One could tell by the resigned despair in his face.
The other three had been in the camps far longer, Strobe the longest. Her real name was Andrea Bacall, but she hadn't used the name for years. She had actually lived in Lincoln, until her fiancée turned her into the government without even allowing her the chance to say goodbye to her newborn son. There was always one day out of the year where Strobe was more depressed than normal; Kota guessed it to be her son's birthday. Juke, real name Ali Kirk, was the one Kota probably knew the best. The two often worked in the same areas and shared jobs. It wasn't a talking relationship, but there was a silent support there that both appreciated. Jesse Taylor had been here for about a year, and she had only heard him talk a few times. Not that he was unsociable; Kota just guessed he spoke only when he felt he needed to.
They dealt hands back and forth as more mutants rolled into the public building. The noise level steadily grew until everything was just a blare of sound and voices. Even with the cameras installed, the mutants could be plotting World War III and any watchers wouldn't have been able to tell.
Suddenly, Leo leaned forward. He had been wearing an odd look for quite a few games now, and Dakota had been waiting for him to say what was on his mind.
"Guys, the other day when they had me working out in the factories I found something." He hissed this even with the constant loud noise around them. Kota stiffened; she guessed what was coming.
Juke growled as she put down her cards. "What exactly was this discovery?"
Leo's golden eyes flashed with a wild light, like that of a trapped animal that sees escape. That was basically what he was anyway. "There's a weak spot in the Wall. I saw it. The humans were trying really hard to hide it, but I caught a glimpse of it. They haven't even begun construction on it yet, they were just covering the spot. This could be our chance! If we – "
"Stop." Strobe's voice was quiet but firm. Her pale eyes looked around the table, at Jesse's perked interest and the rising hope in Benj's eyes. Leo looked at her incredulously.
"What do you mean stop? We have a chance at freedom for God's sake!" he continued to hiss. "All we would need to do is find a time where the guards aren't around…"
Juke snorted bitterly. "Do you really think you're the first to try and escape? A thousand and one ways have been attempted to get out of this hellhole and not one of them has succeeded. I honestly doubt that sneaking through a hole in the wall is going to pull the wool over the humans' eyes."
Benj looked up, coming to his brother's defense. "Are you guys just going to lie down and submit to being slaves forever? You're not even going to try!"
Strobe massaged the bridge of her nose with her fingers, suddenly sounding a hundred years old. "It's not that we don't want freedom. But we've suffered the consequences of failure too many times." Almost absently, she drew up the grey sleeve of her standard outfit. Marked on her arm were dark half-moon scars, which looked like the work of a branding iron. "I've tried to escape before. I never got far, not even beyond the Wall, and for that I was lucky. Mutants who do manage to get beyond the perimeter are brought back as corpses."
"Besides," Kota put in her two cents. "How could we possibly hope to get as far as the hole? During the day they watch us like hawks while we work, and at night our doors are locked from outside, there are guards, watchdogs, searchlights, locked fences. And let's not forget these." She tapped a naturally black fingernail against the collar around her neck that was beeping quietly. An identical copy was clamped around the neck of every mutant there. "Even if we did manage to get beyond the wall we wouldn't get far. With no powers and no transportation we'd be caught or killed within a week."
Leo narrowed his eyes, shaking his head stubbornly. "I don't care how bad the odds look. I won't just give up and let them beat me around for the rest of my life. And there is hope for us. I've heard there are mutants on the outside, ones that free our kind and take them in. Finding them might be the answer."
Juke suddenly slammed her fist down as she glared at him. The others stared in shock as she jumped up from the table and disappeared into the crowd. Strobe sighed sadly as she got up and followed the younger girl. Leo just stared with his mouth open and a bemused expression on his face.
"What did I say?" he trailed off, perplexed.
Dakota muttered without turning to him. "No one blames you for hoping. But most of us have just stopped dreaming, and it hurts to dig those thoughts up again. But you did nothing wrong. None of us have, and that's what really hurts. I'm going home," she mumbled, tossing down her cards and pushing up from the table. The boys were left sitting in silence. Jesse and Benj still had determined expressions at the thought of escape, but Tyler just shook his head hopelessly.
Across the room they were being watched by a pair of dark sapphire eyes. As soon as Kota disappeared from the bar, the Pakistani boy drained his glass of less than adequate liquor before slipping from the room himself.
Peering about carefully, and seeing no one, he trudged off in the opposite direction Dakota had taken. He refused to finger with the collar around his throat, unused to wearing it, but it was part of the façade just like the stolen grey mutant uniform.
He walked casually along the dirt roads of the mutant community, before he darted through a gap in a tall chain-link fence and into the factory district. The buildings were still bright and busy with activity from the night shift, but the stretching shadows allowed him to ghost along with no notice cast his way.
Making his way behind one of the factories, he came up to the towering Wall. It looked nigh impregnable, but for the broken gap surrounded by dark construction blocks and guards. Well, it did have guards, but the two men weren't completely cognizant at the moment. The intruder knew just the right tune to sing that would send them right off to sleep. They couldn't hear it, and their ears would be wringing for a few good hours after they woke, but they would never know of his existence.
The young man kneeled down, retrieving his three long daggers from where he had hidden them. Like a phantom, he vanished through the hole and disappeared into the outside.
He kept walking until he reached a short belt of scraggly trees. Waiting for him was Phalanx, decked in his battle uniform and his black and green mask. A tilt of the Outcast's head asked all well?
Scream nodded. Phalanx's grin couldn't be seen, but it could be felt.
"Things are rolling along. Come sunset after next, our enslaved brothers are going to get the taste of freedom they've been longing for. And the humans, all they deserve."
Two days previously…
"You wanted me, you got me," snarled the werewolf mutant. "Now let's dance." His roar shook the ground as he lunged, claws brandished.
His first strike tore through the throat of the first man, the blow throwing him aside like a rag doll. The beast inside the mutant grew in its rage as the scent of blood reached its nose. He bowled into the next line of soldiers like a juggernaut, scattering them like bowling pins.
The rattle of guns shattered the air, followed by the mutant's screams of agony and rage. His heightened senses tracked the paths of the bullets as they tore through flesh and organ, exiting out of his body on the opposite sides of their entrance. Mere moments later the wounds resealed without a blemish. His anger drove him faster and fiercer. With a powerful leap, he sailed up into the air and came back down on top of his attackers.
It was a beautiful thing, at least for him. Just the pure instinct and power in this deadly dance was something he hated to admit enjoying. But, oh did he love it. These men, these monsters that would torture and cage him, Casey, and other innocent mutants deserved bloody death on the end of his claws and fangs. Lashing out his head he sank his teeth deeply into the neck of another man. The gurgling shrieks cut off as he felt the warmth drain from the body in his jaws.
He escalated his rampage, cutting down his opponents like a wolf in a flock of lambs, to put it poetically, when suddenly something hit him. It wasn't physical, but to him it might as well have been. An unfettered scream of pain ripped from between his teeth as his clawed hands tried to cover his ears from the wailing wave of piercing sound. The agonizing bombardment wouldn't stop; it was tearing his head apart from inside out. The wolf snarled as he recognized what it was. The Boomer. Filthy cowards.
Desperate, he lunged forward again, trying to remind himself that his healing factor could combat the devastating waves of sound coming from the hated device. His claws slashed through more bodies as the awful pain and pressure built. His vision was growing blurry. The snowy forest clearing was now a blur of shadowy trees, blobs of white snow, and splashes of crimson blood. He roared again. They won't take me again! I'll die first!
But at last the assault was too much. Still lashing out with claws and teeth, the mutant collapsed. And once he was down, he couldn't find the strength to rise again. He lay there gasping as he felt blood ooze steadily from his damaged ears. He could hear the jeers of triumph from his captors as they watched their victim collapse, unable to escape.
I'd sooner die than go back to them, was his supposedly final thought as his claws shifted weakly to rest on his own chest. He would tear his own heart out if need be.
But as the footsteps closed in on him and his talons just barely pierced his fur-covered skin, another sound reached his ears. It was not like the Boomer. It was deeper, more powerful, and made him want to fight until the end.
Light flared over the clearing, lighting it up like high noon. The men screamed as something roared down toward them, letting loose a scream of its own. Heat exploded around them, and suddenly Matt realized that he wouldn't be fighting alone any longer.
The girl's face was a mask of ferocity, fire crackling around her in a force field of power. Her braid of dark red hair whipped behind her and her fists clenched.
"I thought I'd drop by and even the odds a bit," she growled to him as he slowly picked himself up. Matt was confused, but not about to question this. He might not know who the heck this girl was or where she came from, but he was glad she was here.
"Thanks," he grinned. Then they both lunged.
The two were a force none of the men had ever seen before. They were used to the power, being able to tame their prisoners with shocks, loud noises, and intimidation. But here was a pair of mutants that didn't fear pain or death.
Matt fought, keeping his peripherals focused on his strange and heaven-sent companion. She didn't even use her powers. A whirl of bronze-bladed daggers cut through her opponents like the scythe of Death's reaper. Not a speck of blood could touch her as she whirled about too quickly for anything to land on her, unlike himself, drenched now in the life essence of his enemies.
At last, the clearing was empty of all life besides them. But that wouldn't last for long. More shouts and thumping of boots were coming their way. The girl turned to him, panting a bit.
"Now's our only chance. My energy is almost gone; can you run?"
Matt returned her gaze. "I'd run straight out of my own body if it got me out of here." His already werewolfish form shifted even further until he was simply an overlarge wolf. The girl nodded.
"Good, now let's go." The flame crackled around her and she lifted from the ground. With another faint shriek, her fiery form shot like a comet into the woods. The wolf pelted after her in hot pursuit.
Matt allowed his muscles to stretch themselves to the limit; it had been so long since he could really run. The trees and bushes around them melted into a river of gray light and shadow. He had never clocked how fast he could run in miles per hour, but he knew that he could hardly be seen by the naked human eye when he was up at a good speed. The golden light from the fire girl guided him on a winding path through the forest.
Then after a while of the silent run, the fire trail steadily grew more distant until it vanished. He skidded to a halt, worried for a moment, before the light reappeared a good distance off. It wasn't moving this time.
Now that he was out of the first immediate danger, Matt felt his instincts waking up again. Even though she had helped save him, he didn't know this girl or her motivations. He reduced back into his werewolf form. He padded quietly into the miniscule clearing underneath a small rift pushing the ground up into a line of small cliffs and fissures. In the triangular mouth of one of the larger holes sat the girl, poking at a pile of rocks and wood that were flickering with a healthy little fire. She glanced up at him for a moment from underneath tangled strands of hair that had come loose from her braid before returning her attention to the fire.
Matt moved forward a little more before stopping. "Who are you?" he asked. He tried not to sound too aggressive; he did owe her after all.
She looked up again, wiping off her gold gloves. "A concerned party. Here," she said, tossing something at him abruptly. He caught it before it hit him in the face. It appeared to be a greyish lump that might have been food. He sniffed at it. The response was an instant retracting of the nose, resulting in a face that might as well have just sucked hard on a lemon. A cough of disgust escaped Matt.
The girl rolled her eyes. "Well, pardon me for not bringing the gourmet," she mumbled under her breath, returning to poking at the fire even though it seemed perfectly fine.
Matt lowered the 'food' and continued to stare at her. "I was hoping for something a little more specific. Who are you and why did you help me? How did you even know where – that place – was?" he asked as he approached.
She tossed her prodding stick into their campfire. "Name's Evangeline, actually. And I have an ability to know about things beyond the normal range of view." She stopped, looking fixedly at him while chewing on the inside of her cheek. Her expression seemed a little put out. She then pointed at him. "Are you ever going to eat that sandwich? That's food going to waste there, in case you weren't aware." The tone of her voice was rather snide. Matt blinked, before reluctantly nibbling at the poor excuse of a sandwich. Meanwhile, the girl lay back on the ground and relaxed.
Matt sighed. "Again, why did you help me?"
The girl, Evangeline, peeked up at him with one eye. "It's kind of what we do. You know, play Robin Hood and liberators for the greater good and all."
"Who is 'we'?"
She clambered to her feet. "The group of mutants I work with. Basically we find mutants and give them a place to stay. There's someone back home who can give you the mechanics of it, but right now I'm bushed so, g'night." She began to retreat back into the little cave.
Matt could feel himself growing irritated. "You go to all the trouble of getting me away from death or incarceration, and now you seem totally uninterested. What's your problem?"
Evangeline, now lying down again, waved her hand languidly in the air. "Think of it like sex. Once it happens, what's the point of talking about it?" she said airily.
After this, Matt decided to just keep to himself. He wasn't entirely sure of the sanity of this girl. So he removed himself from the cave a ways, while staying within the light of the fire. He changed back into a wolf, the warm fur keeping out the cold. He scanned their surroundings with his gaze. The pine forest, despite its darkness, was comforting to him. The wolf that shared his nature was at home here. Their camp was on an incline, the land climbing upwards to mountain peaks.
Where are we?
Evangeline poked her head out of the hiding place, surprise on her face.
"You can speak telepathically huh? Great, I'll be blocking my dreams all night. What?" She sounded thoroughly grouchy. The golden eyed wolf blinked.
Where are we? Matt was sure this was the most he had ever repeated himself in one night. He was beginning to sound like a parrot.
She sighed. "Somewhere in the Appalachians I think. Ran down from somewhere around Canada. Now could you please let me go to sleep? I saved your ass earlier, I think you owe me," she grumbled. Matt let out a canine moan from his cavernous chest.
Fine, good night. Evangeline grunted and retreated back into her hole.
Matt lay still for a time, but one more thing was nagging at him. He really didn't want to say anything, but his nature just egged him into it.
Evangeline?
"Whhaaatt!" She hissed in his mind exasperatedly.
Thank you.
The atmosphere around them, both telepathically and physically, was silent. Then another sigh came from her direction.
"Welcome." The telepathic mumble was barely to be heard before everything at last became still.
A/N: I know I'm throwing a lot at you guys in only a few chapters, but I trust in the intelligence of my readers and your undoubted mongering for more juicy story bits. I also hope I'm getting your characters correctly. Half the reason I'm rewriting is for that purpose. They have to share space with a lot of other characters, so if you have any suggestions on writing your character, feel free to let me know.
You may also have noticed I tweaked some histories for characters in previous chapters. I will be doing a lot, but that is just for story flow and convenience. The essence of the character's history is basically the same.
Next chapter: Lotusfire and Static are trained as Seekers, the Coverts gain a new member, and the Outcasts move forward with their plans.