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Chapter 11: Discovery

I'm about ten feet from being unceremoniously thrown into the back of an MRD van when a shadow flies overhead.

We come to a staggering halt and I find the will to lift my heavy head toward the sky, a flicker of hope sparking inside me. Snow kisses my face, cooling off my burning cheek, which has begun to bleed, but the sky seems clear and empty. Still... "Angel!" I cry out once before a hand forcibly covers my mouth, pressing against the cut on my cheek.

"Get her in the van." Trask commands, his voice slow and harsh. He draws a gun and removes his other filthy, human hand from my face. His companions start to haul me away and for a moment, I allow myself to hope, trying to slow our progress by digging my heels into the ground, "Let go of me!" I shout, hoping to attract some attention, incase Angel didn't hear me. "Let go!"

Johnson and Michaels waste no time in throwing me into the van, where I land on my shoulder with nothing to slow my fall. "Angel!" I cry before the doors slam shut with a shuddering bang. I get up on my knees, using my shoulder and head to lift me up, and listen. I'm about to give in to defeat once more when, after a minute or two, I hear a muffled cry from the front of the van and then another from outside followed by what I can only describe as a death-scream. Silence falls. I freeze, gripped by a sudden fear. Are they...?

I give a startled gasp when something rams into the side of the van, knocking me over onto my side once more. If the van hadn't been positioned just right in the opening of the alley, it probably would have tipped over. All is silent once more, and I pause, unmoving. I flinch when I hear footsteps coming from outside and lift my head, an awkward movement that strains my neck. "Angel?" I whisper, getting to my knees again when I see a shadow move before the closed doors of the MRD van.

The doors open with such force that the entire van shakes, throwing me off balance with it. There's no way that's Angel. And when I regain my balance and look up again, I find that I'm very, horribly right. The marred, seething creature that now steps into the van with sharp, clawed feet is nothing like Warren. His wings are black and leathery, streaked with red veins and tipped with sharp claws at the ends. The van creaks noisily as his massive frame fills the automobile, even in crouching as low as he has to, his chest heaving—probably from pummeling those MRD's.

I wonder with a shiver if he killed them...

He moves toward me like I'm a wounded, wild animal that could attack at any second, his reptilian eyes taking in every move I make; reminding me very much of a lizard, crawling around like that. There's something not right about this guy. I have the feeling he's not all there in the head. I fall back when he reaches out for me with a scaly hand, claws like knives moving towards me. "Don't—" I breathe, scrambling away as best I can, my arms protesting awkwardly beneath me as the cuffs dig into my wrists. "Don't touch me!"

He withdraws his hand, his head twitching slightly.

"Who are you?" I ask, sitting up with my back against the far end of the van.

"You know who I am." The creature growls in a voice so inhuman, I start to understand why Human's insist we're monsters.

"No," I shake my head slowly, my eyes never leaving his; so filled with hate… "I knew who you were. Who you are now?"

The man I once knew to be my best friend lurches forward and grasps me by the front of my snow-mixed-with-mud-drenched coat and lifts me as high as the cramped space will allow, my body sliding beneath his, but I don't panic or kick out at him; not even when he hisses, "I am what you made me!" I let those words sink in, my insides squirming with guilt and regret, before I whisper in a tremulous voice, "Are you going to kill me?"

At this, the creature smirks, an action that seems to crack the skin around what used to be a set of full, curvy lips.

Then he goes for my throat.

The second they arrive I run into the jet, ducking past everyone and seating myself into my seat where I curl up with my knees to my chest. A few people try to ambush me with questions (Warren, Rogue, and Nightcrawler included) but the Professor and Jean fend them off.

The ride to the mansion is silent.

Arriving at the mansion, not so.

I rush past Scott and Bobby and Kitty and Storm, all trying to greet me in the landing bay, deep within the earth beneath the basketball court, and it's only when my eyes find Logan's (just barely making his way into the hallway leading to the hangar) that I burst into tears, flinging my arms around his neck as I bury my mud-streaked face into his shoulder.

I cling to him for dear life and his arms encircle me securely, protectively.

My breathing is quick and frantic; my shoulders shake and my eyes are wide and brimming with the tears I've been suppressing all this time. He doesn't let go. Not even after I've calmed down, my breathing returning to normal and the tears drying on my cheeks. Eventually, however, I pry myself out of his grasp, choking slightly on the lump in my throat. Shortly after, the other X-Men leave the hangar (most likely having discussed my discovery in the alley) and find the two of us standing there; Logan with his hand on my arm to steady me, and me with my arms wrapped around myself, my head low.

The Professor approaches me tentatively and gently takes my hand. I look at him through puffy eyes and my mouth tightens into a firm line, "Alright." I say at last. "I'm ready to talk."

"They can't get away with this, Charles." Logan is saying, or rather, shouting as he paces the study. And he's not the only one who is angry. "He's right," Warren interjects before Xavier has the chance to offer calming words of deterrence. "If I know Kelly and my father, they'll take this as a personal insult and broadcast it as an attack on humans. They're going to keep coming until they get enough people to rally behind them. It's only a matter of time!"

"And just what would you suggest?" Storm says, turning away from the window to stare at Warren incredulously. "If we were to strike first it would only strengthen their campaign!"

"She has a point, Warren," Hank says as Warren looks away from Storm, a look of embarrassment and something else (I can't quite put my finger on it) on his handsome features. "The MRD are expecting retaliation. They want us to incite a war."

Scott rises in spite of Jean's effort to stay him, "A war they started!" Scott says, his face flushed in anger.

The room erupts in an intense dispute; more than half of the room wants to fight back, the rest argue that it would be incredibly stupid and reckless to bother. And I'm just sitting here, my face aching and my head buzzing from the pain killers. I run a finger over the tiny bandages that seal the cut on my cheek. I've been staring out the window, watching the snow fall, and only vaguely listening this entire time. I only look up when Dimitri takes my hand from my face and gently sets it down on the couch, where he continues to hold my hand in his. I give a tiny smile and return to the conversation. Logan, Scott, Warren and a few others are trying to leave and the Professor, Jean, Storm and Hank are attempting to get them to stay.

"Do what you want," Logan growls, snatching his arm away from Hank, who is physically trying to bar him from leaving the room. "I'm not just gonna let this go."

"Yes," I speak up for the first time since relaying all the gritty details of the almost-kidnapping, getting to my feet for emphasis. "You are."

"Liz, they hurt you!" Rogue exclaims, reaching out for me with a gloved hand and she takes hold of my forearm and pushes back my sleeve to reveal a hand-shaped bruise encircling my wrist like a big, purple bracelet. "They did this to you!"

"I think we all know it could have been a lot worse," I murmur, locking eyes with Logan as I readjust the sleeve back over my wrist. "This is a fight that can't be won with brute force alone. We have to smart about this." My gaze turns from firm and harsh to pleading, "Stay. There are still some things we need to discuss."

"Like what?" Tabitha asks uncertainly, having been one of the ones itching for a fight. She's gotten so protective. Especially over me. She nearly burst into tears when she first saw my face and her pale face burned red with rage when I began telling them all about what happened shortly after parting ways with Warren.

"Glenn." I say simply.

"What's there to discuss?" Angel asks, irritated that we're not going already. "He saved your life. That must mean he still cares about you."

It would make sense, but nonetheless I shake my head. "No, he hates my guts. He blames me for what happened to him." I breathe a sigh, remembering how I'd thought Glenn was going to tear my throat out back in the van; the look of pure, vengeful desire in his reptilian eyes, but, at the last second, went for the collar instead; tearing it off with his razor-like teeth into mere shreds of twisted metal. "What I want to know is why he rescued me when he hates me so much."

The room goes still for a moment. The diverting question seems to have done its' job in distracting the others from wanting to fight. Everyone seems lost in thought for a moment and I allow myself to sit back down, warn out from all the excitement. I just want to lay down and take a nap. Now that I know I can. Finally, Hank says what no one else has the nerve to suggest, "It must have something to do with Sinister."

"I had a similar thought." Says the Professor, who seems to have been lost in his own thoughts. If he hadn't received my mental shout-out, I'd probably have been picked up by another MRD squad before Trask's little team could recover. Only Michaels will never recover. Not with his belly slashed open, that is.

"But what would he want from you?" Rogue asks, moving to sit beside me tentatively.

"Revenge, probably." I say bluntly, more annoyed by the fact than unnerved by it. "I did stab him in the neck once..."

"That doesn't make sense." Bobby says, looking confused as usual.

"Oh, it was with a syringe. Not a knife." I assure him but Bobby shakes his head, saying, "No, no, I get that. But why would he save you…if he just wants revenge? Wouldn't he have, like, taken you out right then or at least—I don't know, kidnapped you, or-or something…?"

Bobby lets his words trail of as he's met with nothing but stares. But the Professor acknowledges one sure truth, saying, "You may have a point, Bobby. The question is: why? Or rather: Why not? Why not exact his revenge while he had the chance?"

Suddenly, I feel all eyes on me and I look up in a mixture of confusion and annoyance, "Don't look at me," I say. "I don't know and I don't care. All I want is to forget about it, okay?" I say, getting to my feet once more. I don't know why, but I feel incredibly antsy; like I need to get away from everyone for a while. "And I don't want anyone going on any sort of…manhunt either." I'm looking at you, Logan. "It's not worth it."

I exit the room and pause outside the door. Sure enough, the arguing resumes.

Figures.

I walk into the living room, vacated due to the verbal battle raging on in the Professor's study, intent on throwing myself on the couch and resting for a while. However, before I reach the couch, a beeping noise catches my ear. I look around, confused for a moment. Then I hear it again. And again, more insistent this time. I follow the noise and discover it's coming from the long forgotten computer that I once sat at for nearly two nights in a row.

I blink, immediately suspicious, and move toward the computer. The screen is black and a single, vertical line blinks at me. For a moment, nothing happens and I shake my head, deciding it's just a malfunction. Then the computer beeps again, much louder than before and I watch , startled, as it begins to type on it's own. I read the following words: HAVE YOU GUESSED THE RIDDLE YET?

"What?" I whisper and then quickly glance over my shoulder to make sure I'm alone before responding with: WHAT RIDDLE?

3274743292

I give an exasperated sigh. I gave up on that a long time ago. What's the point?

Still, I type back: WHAT IS THE ANSWER?

THE CODE IS THE KEY BOARD TO FIND WHAT YOU SEEK

That's new.

I frown but for some reason, I can't tear myself away. I hate riddles, surprises, and guessing. Anything that isn't certain…But this seems like something I can crack.

It's obvious that the code is referring to the numbers Erik gave me. And the code is apparently the key to…what? That part I don't understand. Information, maybe. And the last bit—BOARD TO FIND WHAT YOU SEEK—means that I need to board a plane or something to look for…it. Whatever it is. What really is bothering me, however, is the punctuation. Why isn't there a comma or period or anything between KEY and BOARD? Was whoever messaging me in a rush? Or was it done on purpose? What could it mean, if it was?

I sit back in my chair, stroking my cheek absently as I read the sentence over and over in my head, using the computer to help my thought process: THE CODE IS THE KEY

THE CODE IS THE KEY The computer confirms.

THE KEY TO WHAT? I type back.

ACCESS DENIED

I almost flip the screen over, I'm so pissed. Access denied, indeed!

I return to the drawing board, typing: WHAT AM I LOOKING FOR?

ACCESS DENIED

I take a few calming breaths before returning to the keyboard, typing: WHERE IS THE PERIOD BETWEEN KEY AND BOARD?

THE CODE IS THE KEYBOARD TO FIND WHAT YOU SEEK The computer repeats but there's something wrong with that sentence. I type my concerns: WHERE IS THE SPACE BETWEEN KEY AND BOARD?

THERE IS NONE

"What?" I breathe aloud, and throw my hands on the keyboard. That was definitely not the answer I was expecting. I'm about to ask who the hell is messaging me and what they mean by THERE IS NONE, but the screen suddenly goes dark, the blinking light disappearing from view. "What?!" I repeat, giving the screen a little shake. Nothing happens. I try restarting it, clutching the screen with my hands; searching, but it just boots up like normal and a search engine greets me.

Looks like Q&A's over.

I stare at the screen for a while, mind racing. A head ache starts to rear its ugly head and I bury my face in my hands in exasperation.

"Are you okay?"

I jump about a foot in the air, sending my chair rolling backwards as I stand to find a startled Kitty standing a ways behind me, her cell phone in her hands.

"Whoa!" She says, raising her hands to calm me and I relax, bringing a hand to my head once more. "Easy there!"

"Sorry, Kitty," I murmur in embarrassment, checking to make sure the screen has been left blank. When I confirm this I turn back to the teenager, watching me curiously and ask, "What's going on?"

"Ugh! I couldn't stay in there another minute!" She tells me, plopping down on the couch with her cell phone, twiddling her thumbs at an alarming speed. "It's so dumb. It's not like we can do anything, anyway. We've already lost."

I feel a pang in my abdomen and my hand goes to my diaphragm where a sharp pain has spiked. It saddens me how she can say something so despairing and just…accept it. Like it's common knowledge. Maybe it is, and we just don't know it yet. I can see why everyone wants to fight.

It's the only thing they can do.

Kitty suddenly throws out a curse word and I glance at her sharply, disapprovingly, and she offers an apologetic smile from the couch."Sorry," She says, sitting up from her previous, slumped position. She gives her cell an irritated shake, groaning as she says, "My stupid keyboard's acting up."

Keyboard.

THERE IS NO SPACE…

"Kitty?" I ask in an odd voice, barely above a whisper.

"Yeah?"

"Could I…see your phone?" Kitty looks up from her cell and gives me a curious look, but eventually shrugs and (after deleting or sending whatever it was she was writing) hands over the small cellular device.

I take it in my hands and observe the keys.

"It's a total fossil, I know," Kitty is saying beside me, flipping on the television to a news channel (going on about some huge blizzard or something) as I slowly sit down beside her, but I hardly hear her. On the keys, beneath the numbers, are letters; 3 under some numbers and 4 under others. "I've been meaning to get a new one but the Professor says…"

I tune her out.

THE CODE IS THE KEY BOARD TO FIND WHAT YOU SEEK. THE CODE IS THE KEY. BOARD TO FIND WHAT YOU SEEK. THE KEY. BOARD TO. KEY. BOARD. KEYBOARD.

Keyboard.

I start typing 3274743292, but all that comes out of the code is: Dapgpgdawa….that doesn't make sense.

THE CODE IS THE KEY.

"Scott's lucky he has a part time job. He can afford his own phone…" I hear Kitty saying distantly as I clear the screen, thinking back to the first time Kitty explained texting to me and how you have to press a number a certain number of times to spell out a word.

THE CODE IS THE KEY. BOARD...

Let's see…3 twice is E…and 7 four times is S…And that'll be another S since it repeats…3 twice again is E and finally…9 twice is—

"Maybe I'll get a new phone for Christmas," Kitty says as I continue to stare at the letters on the tiny, glowing screen before me; processing. This can't be for real. There's no way…"Wouldn't that be cool, Liz?"

I stand up, slowly as a tingling, jittery feeling spreads from my fingertips to my stomach and then to my toes. I can feel a steady heat creep up the back of my neck and my hands are shaking. "Liz?" Kitty repeats, standing up with me, and I turn to her suddenly, my eyes involuntarily glowing with a rage so sudden that I don't blame Kitty for taking a staggering step back.

"Can you fly the jet?" I manage to ask, my voice sounding thick and foreign to my own ears. It's taking all my power to keep my voice steady but I have to remain calm. Must remain calm…

"Uhhh…no," Kitty admits, looking a bit embarrassed, then she says, "But Rogue knows how to set it on autopilot and everything."

"Perfect!" I whisper, thrusting Kitty's phone back into her hands. "Thanks, Kitty!"

"Wait!" She calls, following me down the hall. I'm going to find Rogue. Hopefully they've all finished with their arguing by now… "Are you, like, going on some kinda secret mission?"

I stop dead in my tracks and turn around to look at her, my eyes finally returning to normal as I say pleadingly, "Kitty…please—"

"Relax!" Kitty reassures me before I can even beg her to keep quiet. "You're not the only one to sneak off when no one's looking. By the way," She adds, lowering her voice. "Rogue's in her room. We left at the same time when Logan started throwing things. But you'd better get going now. I'm still looking forward to getting your present on Christmas Eve." She adds with a wink and a smile.

I can only stare at her. Grateful doesn't even encompass my feelings toward Kitty right now.

She seems to understand this because she giggles and says, "I'll go distract the senior citizens...And Bobby. Now get outta here!" She starts to flounce away, and I start to head in the opposite direction (where I know Rogue's room is) but before I do, Kitty suddenly calls back, "And bring me a souvenir!"

I smile to myself and wave but when I turn back, my smile is replaced by a thin line of determination.

BOARD TO FIND WHAT YOU SEEK.

I intend to.

More chapters coming up sooner than you think. And Happy New Year Everybody!

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