This long chapter is even longer than the last long chapter. If that makes any sense. In which there is much exhaustion, a little crouton warfare, and the beginnings of some well-founded paranoia on several fronts.
Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, Marie was tired as hell. Once upon a time, that wouldn't have fazed her, but she was still so out-of-condition from all that damn time in the camps, and all she wanted to do was nap. It wouldn't exactly be fair to the others, though, when they were all - mostly all - trying so hard to actually communicate with their new...guests. Kitty and Magneto appeared to each be off in their own worlds, plotting murder. As far as she was concerned, they were just protesting too much.
She took a seat next to Ororo (who kept darting nervous glances at the furious pair), inspecting their fellow time-travelers. Most of them looked as tired as she felt, and she wondered just what the French "authorities" had done to them.
They had food now, at least, although the remnants of the mini-fridge weren't going to go far. Ororo, unsurprisingly, had had to eat a little of it herself, to show it wasn't poisoned, and Marie drank some of the water. She wanted to check them for injuries, but they probably wouldn't want strangers touching them just yet. There were a few bruises, but nothing worse was visible.
Of course not, she thought, a little bitterly, they weren't there long enough for the really nasty shit. Wouldn't want to damage the captives right away, after all. Not before they'd given up some information.
The two dark-haired girls had fallen asleep, curled up with their heads together. Though they had to be in their twenties, they looked so young. Young and far too thin, though not as close to emaciation as she herself. One had a long scar running the entire length of her face, and the other looked like she'd had a second-degree burn on her neck. One of the men was almost sacked out as well, but the other, the one that looked like his twin, was staring at Marie with unveiled hostility.
"Trust me," she said, though she had no idea if he'd understand her, "you'll thank us later."
His expression suggested that was not likely, but whatever. He could sulk all he liked, until they reached the mansion.
The little blonde girl, the only one who seemed to understand more than half of what was said, tapped her arm. "Safe?" she asked, sounding like she didn't want to believe it. Given how they'd been rescued, Marie supposed she couldn't blame her.
"Safe. You're going to our home." She didn't want to go into the time travel tenses involved, since, honestly, the thought gave her a headache. "Some of us came from the future, too. Just not as far forward as you."
The girl was quiet a moment, probably trying to translate that in her head. Marie could tell when it clicked, because her eyes widened. "Sentinels?" she said.
"Yeah. The first time, since I guess there's another war. Did you get sent back for Trask?"
Again, another pause, but eventually she nodded. "Did you kill him?"
Marie shook her head. "No. We drugged him and dropped him off in Paris. He won't get what he wants, now, 'cause I'm not sure he'll want it anymore."
That earned her a blank look, but that was rather understandable, considering how badly mangled that sentence was. "Nevermind. Point is, you're safe, and you're gonna be safe where we're goin'. Were ya'll just gonna stay back here, or were you goin' home when you were done?"
It had to be the accent, Marie thought. The girl didn't seem to have this much difficulty understanding Ororo. "Anyway, just rest. You hurt, any of you? Injured?"
The girl hesitated. "Bruised. And my leg." She pulled up the leg of her grey prison-pants, revealing a rather ugly laceration that probably needed a stitch or two. "Accident," she said.
Marie wasn't quite so convinced, but if she wanted to play it that way, it was her business. "Kitty, I need you take a few minutes away from plannin' how to murder Clarice," she said. "You're still our team medic."
Kitty visibly twitched as she snapped out of whatever elaborate revenge she was spinning in her mind. She hauled herself out of her seat and hobbled over, wincing when she saw the girl's leg.
"Ouch. Rogue, can you get the first aid kit? If I tried to walk through here I'd probably break my neck. Shut up," she added, glaring at Magneto.
"I didn't say anything," he said, attempting innocence and failing. Badly.
"You didn't need to. Here, let me see that." She knelt down, somewhat awkwardly. "Need to wash this out," she called to Marie. "I can bandage it up for now, but it's going to need a real doctor to look at it later. And probably a tetanus shot."
Great. "Do what you can. We've got seven hours to come up with a better plan." She left Kitty to it, detouring to grab and deliver the first aid kit, then creeping up the aisle toward the cockpit, trying not to step on anyone. The Professor had shut himself in with Hank, but Logan was lurking by the door, no doubt listening for whatever might be said between them.
"Bad?" she asked, figuring he'd know what she meant. The Professor had to have seen at least some of what lay in their heads, and if their future was anything like the one she and Logan had come from...well. This Professor didn't have the weight of experience to fortify himself against that much horror.
Logan nodded. "Think he just needs some time," he said. "We were bad enough, and now there's these guys. Gotta keep in mind, a few days ago he was a drug-addicted recluse. Think this might all be just a bit much."
Marie winced. She still knew nothing of what had happened before Logan almost ran her over - how long he'd been in the past, and just what he, Hank, and the Professor had been up to. There hadn't exactly been a chance to ask.
"Still think we shoulda killed Trask," Logan muttered. "I know the Professor - our Professor - said we shouldn't, but still...as long's that little bastard's alive, there's a chance he'll finish cookin' up the Sentinels."
"He's got to have had his reasons," she said. "And, like Ororo said, so far as he knows, he got kidnapped by some crazy humans. Once the acid wears off, that's all he's gonna think about."
Logan snorted. "True. And if these guys really are human, he doesn't even have that to go off of. It ain't like we don't have our own shit to worry about, anyway. We can hack it, livin' in 1973, but those goons? From everythin' I've seen, not a chance. They must have come back a helluva long time."
"They're not goons," she scolded. "They're kids, most of 'em, and they're scared. How would you react, if some strangers came in and dragged you out, just to stuff you in another van? Don't tell me you wouldn't punch someone, too."
He had the grace to look slightly abashed. "Guess you're right," he said, a little grudgingly. "You usually are, and I don't admit that to just anyone."
His words warmed her more than anything had in a very long time. She was about to say so, but Clarice scurried over to join them, pale-faced and wild-eyed. "They're planning something," she hissed. "I know it. I'm sticking with you until I can find somewhere to hide."
Marie grimaced in sympathy, but Logan just looked bewildered. "Who, what, and why?"
Clarice shuddered, but didn't answer, so Marie did it for her. "She thought Kitty and Magneto were, you know, attached to each other in a creepy way, and made the mistake of sayin' somethin'," she said. "Now they're both pissed and out for blood. 'Ro's, too."
He looked at Clarice like she'd grown a second head, and promptly ripped it off and stomped on it. "Why in hell would you think that?" he demanded, incredulous.
She shifted from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable. "You know, they bicker all the time," she said vaguely. "And they're always going after one another, to throw stuff. I figured it was like kids on the playground, or something."
He shook his head. "Kid, if I thought that'd be a problem, I woulda said somethin'." He tapped his nose, and Marie know what he meant, even if Clarice might be fuzzy on it. She tried not to think about the fact that he could smell...well, a lot of things most people wouldn't want known.
"You're sure?" Clarice said, dubious. "Because seriously. It wasn't just me. 'Ro and Marie thought so, too, but neither of them is stupid enough to try to haze her. So they're down to two targets, but honestly - can you blame us? Really?"
Logan snorted. "I know you can't smell shit like I do, but seriously? They're somethin', I'll give you that one. They're just not...that. You ask me, they both need a target, and until they got pissed at you, they were each other's. Now you and 'Ro have that job. I'd say start plannin' your funeral, but knowin' them, they won't kill you 'cause if you were dead, they couldn't pick on you anymore."
Clarice made a face. "That? Really not helpful."
"No, but it's honest. If you're smart, you'll stick near the Professor. Neither of 'em's dumb enough to pull any shit while he's around."
I hope, Marie thought. Logan hadn't seen their expressions. All things considered, she was damn glad she had him as a deterrent. Kitty had sometimes been a devious little critter even before she spent several years dodging Sentinels, and Magneto was...well, him. The thought of them working in tandem, rather than being pitted against each other...it didn't bear thinking about.
Evidently, Clarice had come to the same conclusion, because she shuddered. "I'm going to go hide with the new guys," she said. "I don't think even Magneto would mess with them - he'd know it would bring the Professor down on their heads."
"Fair enough. I'll throw somethin' at you, if they look like they'll do anythin' stupid," Marie promised.
"Thanks," she said, and scooted off.
Logan shook his head again. "To be honest, I would worry, if Kitty didn't look like she was twelve," he said. "He was in prison a long time, if you catch my drift, but she looks like a damn kid, and she's been actin' like one, too."
"Thanks for that mental image," she said dryly. "They're creepy enough as it is."
"Can't argue with that," he said. "Least they're smart enough to stay away from you."
"I know. It's just...poor Clarice and Ororo. So not gonna end well."
He gave her shoulder a light squeeze. "That's their problem. We've got enough of our own."
That was certainly true enough.
Remarkably, the rest of the flight progressed without any major incidents, but Ororo did not find that at all comforting. It just meant there was Plotting going on, with a capital P. The newcomers eventually fell asleep, and as time wore on, their own people started nodding off, one by one.
Logan and Rogue had taken up the "corner", insofar as there was one, where the fuselage met the wall to the cockpit. Apparently having them near for protection was enough to give Clarice at least some security, because dared take a nap. It probably helped that Kitty had gone to sleep herself, thus reducing the immediate danger by half.
Magneto, however, was wide awake, and appeared to be lost in thought. Ororo wasn't quite sure why the thought of their retribution unnerved her so much - no matter how angry Kitty was, she would never actually hurt any of them. And while Magneto probably would, he was smart enough to know he'd incur the wrath of the Professor if he did. Except...there were myriad ways to psychologically torment someone that wouldn't require any physical contact at all. It would probably be best if she and Clarice took rooms near Logan and Marie, in the hope that their presence would somehow act as a ward against dual, vindictive evil.
She glanced down the cabin. Raven was still awake, reading a book she'd nabbed from God knew where - Ororo wasn't surprised she wouldn't sleep around so many strangers. It was rare that she wasn't almost hyper-vigilant.
Ororo wondered, yet again, just what the hell had been in that box - the bomb that wasn't a normal bomb. Would they ever hear about what happened to it, what it did? How had Hank and Raven known to make it? Sooner or later, she'd have to ask
Did it take anything from the house with it?
She shivered. That was a slightly horrifying thought. Why would she think it? Because the bomb had been made from things already in the house? Though it was very far behind them now, her skin still crawled at the memory of it.
Glancing at Clarice, she saw the girl was twitching slightly, frowning in her sleep. Clarice had actually gone down into that basement, had been directly exposed to...whatever was there. Even asleep, her face had gone grey with terror.
Rogue must have noticed it, too. She poked Clarice on the shoulder, once, twice. "You're dreamin', sugar," she said gently. "C'mon, wake up. Nothin' to be scared of."
She couldn't see Logan's expression, but Ororo could; while it was often hard to read him, in this instance his eyes seemed to say that actually, there was in fact something to be afraid of. Had his feral senses picked up something the others hadn't noticed?
I hope not. All things considered, she was very glad that the New York mansion didn't have a basement so much as an underground garage. And that there was an ocean and three thousand miles between it and France.
Clarice blinked, and made a little sound very like a whimper. Rogue gave her shoulder a slight squeeze. "C'mon, wake up. You're with this flyin' circus, not back...there." Trust Rogue to intuit the source of Clarice's nightmare. Then again, what else had they encountered here, that would be worthy of a nightmare?
Clarice shuddered, but she also smiled. "Flying circus is right," she said. "I'd want a drink if I wasn't still recovering from Vlad."
It took Ororo a moment to work out what she actually meant, and when she had, she smothered a smile. Perhaps, if it became necessary, she could make the drink for their new arrivals. Whatever else it did, it certainly loosened people up.
When Kitty finally woke up, it was dark outside the plane, and rather dim in it. Aside from Logan and Raven, she was also the only one awake. Clarice, in some ways at least wiser than she appeared, had gone to sleep next to Rogue; Ororo, equally intelligent, was napping beside Raven.
Kitty's eyes narrowed. Were those two going to have allies in this war? Did she and Magneto need to worry about outside interference? Logan would probably just sit back and laugh, but she wasn't so sure about Rogue and Raven. While Kitty knew what Rogue was capable of, and how she thought, Raven was an unknown. Aside, that was, from the fact that she seemed to be a complete badass. That could be...problematic.
Deal with it later, she thought, levering herself to her feet. Her knee had stiffened up while she slept, her head felt like a tiny gnome was pounding on her brain with a sledgehammer, and her ribs were practically on fire. She needed a sandwich and a painkiller, ASAP.
Between her walking stick/cane and some creative, one-footed hopping, she actually managed to get to the back of the plane without stepping on anyone. "Please, please tell me there's aspirin or something," she whispered to Raven, almost plaintively. "Right now I kind of wish I was dead."
Raven snorted. "Don't say that," she said quietly. "It's tempting fate. And if there wasn't any aspirin in the first aid kit, I don't think there's any on the plane. There is some leftover vodka in the fridge, though."
Kitty had had more than enough of being drunk the last few days, but when weighed against the sheer amount of sore she was, booze won out. She hopped over to the mini-fridge and opened it as quietly as she could. "Are you going to protect Ororo from what's coming?" she asked, taking a swig and grimacing. Vodka had never been her thing.
Raven's eyebrows went up. "You mean, your revenge? That's not really my job. Besides, I thought she was r -"
"Don't say it," Kitty cut her off, with a slight groan. "I don't want to add you to the list, because I know I'd lose. I knew we were all some varying degree of insane, but there's crazy, and then there's crazy. Anyway, he started it."
"Seriously?" Raven asked, clearly dubious.
"Seriously. He threw garlic bread at me after I got hit by a truck. He definitely started it."
Raven blinked. "Maybe he went nuts in prison," she said, shaking her head. "Just don't drag all the new people into it."
Kitty was downright affronted. "Hey, I might be vindictive, but I'm not a total asshole. Those poor bastards haven't done anything to me - and even if they had, they're miserable enough as it is. I'm not sure how the hell they're going to handle it, being in 1973. The technology's a little primitive compared to what I grew up with, and the less said about the fashion, the better, but otherwise it's not really that different. But if they spent their entire lives in the kind of crapsack future we came from...well, no wonder they seem freaked out by a plane ride. They might never be able to live away from the mansion."
"You might have a hard time of it, too," Raven pointed out. "Legally, you don't exist. You're going to need a lot of false paperwork. Way more than all my forged ID's."
Kitty grimaced. She'd thought of that, but only fleetingly. "Do you know anyone who could do that? I mean, right now I don't really want to leave the mansion, but I might someday. I'd like the option, at least."
"I have some people I can talk to." She smirked a little when Kitty yawned. "Go get some more sleep. I think this is going to turn into a zoo, when we land."
"You're probably right," Kitty grumbled. "And thanks - I appreciate it. I mean it."
Now Raven gave her an actual smile - small, like all her smiles, but it was there nonetheless. "I know. Now go nap."
Kitty accordingly hopped off. She hadn't had much to drink, but at her size, a little was more than enough, and there was a precarious moment where she almost fell face-first onto the blonde girl.
Her balance almost gave out entirely when someone kicked her good leg. Somehow, she managed not to yelp, but it was a near thing. She turned, flailing a little, eyes searching the darkened cabin, and realized it was (of course) Magneto who'd kicked her.
Her first instinct was to whack him with her cane, before he saw it coming - because seriously, they'd had a cease-fire, hadn't they? - but she realized he was asleep. Really asleep, not faking - she'd learned, over all the years of Sentinel-dodging, how to tell when one of her companions was awake and worried. He was definitely out, and he was also definitely not happy. Nightmares? He'd been down in the basement with Logan, Hank, and Clarice.
"Dude." She poked him with the cane, actually taking care not to just jab him in the ribs. "Wake up. You're dreaming."
Of course, he didn't. He just frowned, trying to shove the cane away, nearly overbalancing her again in the process. Exasperated, she poked him harder. "You. Are. Dreeeaming," she enunciated. "Wake the fuck up, or I'll spit in your ear." Poke. Poke.
His eyes abruptly snapped open, and he halfway lunged to his feet, but stopped when Kitty thwacked him on the shoulder. "Nightmare, dude," she said. "Just a nightmare. There's vodka in the fridge."
He shook his head, rubbing his eyes. Even in the low light of the cabin, he looked like hell. This time, however, Kitty managed to stay diplomatic and not actually say anything about it. Satisfied that he wasn't going to fall back asleep and kill someone, she hopped her way to her seat, sitting with a wince. "What was it?" she asked.
Magneto leaned foward, elbows rested on his knees, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What was what?"
"Your nightmare. Was it the basement?"
To her surprise, he actually shuddered. There was a thing she'd never thought she'd see. For a moment, she didn't think he was going to answer. "Yes," he said, eventually. "It was the basement. And that's all I'm going to say."
She actually managed to keep herself from pushing the subject, which was something of a minor miracle. "Vodka," she reiterated, pointing at the fridge with her cane.
"I don't need it." He pulled a silver flask out of his pocket, unscrewed the cap, and downed what had to be half the contents at one go.
"You stole that from the Professor, didn't you?" Kitty said with a smirk.
"I didn't steal it, I borrowed it," he said, a touch imperiously. "It's not as though anyone else was using it."
"True." Had he brought it with them from the house? For some reason, the thought of having anything that had once belonged to that place with them was...unsettling. "But...if it came from the house, maybe when we land, you should lose it. Not sure how well any of us could sleep, knowing we had something from there still with us."
He paused, eyeing it a little askance. She knew he wouldn't want to admit she might be right, and she was definitely certain he'd never say so, but she didn't really care. So long as he ditched the thing, he could think whatever he liked.
"So, what do we do about those two?" she asked, pointing from Clarice to Ororo. "I mean, I have some ideas, but this is supposed to be a joint effort. They're smart enough that they'll probably take every tiny bit of metal out of their rooms. None of us survived the Sentinels this long by being stupid. Shut up," she added, seeing his expression.
"I wasn't going to say anything," he said, with an attempt at innocence that would have fooled absolutely no one.
"You didn't need to," she grumbled. "You're easier to read than you think you are."
"Says you," he retorted, and she choked on a laugh. He sounded a little too much like Clarice. "I have...thoughts. I'll have more once we reach the mansion, especially when we know where they'll both sleep. Psychological warfare can be just as devastating as physical torment."
Well, that was a very...him thing to say. The worst part was that he was right. "One thing," she said. "When Clarice has a nightmare like that - like the one you just had - I don't want to fuck with her then." She was pissed at Clarice, sure, but there was a difference between being vindictive and outright cruel.
He turned his head, looked her dead in the eye, and, said, very solemnly, "That's what she said."
Logan, who had been dozing, woke to what sounded like a cat gacking up a hairball. When he opened his eyes, he discovered that, rather fittingly, the sound was coming from Kitty, who looked torn between hilarity and indignation. She seemed to be trying to keep quiet, so as not to wake anyone else, but she wasn't doing a very good job of it.
He debated saying something, but he felt the plane start to descend. Great. They'd have to wake up all the goons pretty soon. (He didn't care what Marie said; as far as he was concerned, they were goons, and would remain so until they gave him reason to think otherwise.)
Speaking of Marie, she'd fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder, and he gently shook her. "Wake up, darlin'," he said. "We're on our way down."
She opened her eyes, sat up, and yawned. Her movements jostled Clarice, who jerked awake and automatically tensed.
"Nobody's dead," Logan assured her. Not yet, anyway: most of the goons seemed pretty inoffensive, but he'd love to clock that carrot-top bastard into next week. He just needed a reason.
"How're we gonna get back to the mansion?" Marie asked. "Way too many of us for one car."
"That's the Professor's problem. He could probably buy us each a unicorn that shoots rainbows out its ass."
Marie coughed, and dissolved into a fit of giggling so loud it woke up the dark-haired girls. They looked at her warily, but it was hard to feel threatened by Marie when she was laughing.
"Sugar, the shit that sometimes comes outta your mouth," she said, shaking her head. "There's a mental image I'll never get rid of."
"Why would you want - eep!" Clarice twitched, and scraped a soggy crouton off her face. It smelled like it had been soaked in booze.
Logan glanced at the Evil Duo, but both were studiously looking elsewhere. A startled yelp from the other end of the plane indicated they'd nailed Ororo as well. How had they managed that? Neither had moved.
He picked up the crouton and sniffed, and suddenly it made sense. Actually, he almost had to respect the sheer deviousness behind it.
"What?" Marie asked.
"It's full of metal shavings," he said, holding it out to her. She grimaced, and made no move to take it.
"I'll take your word for it," she said. "Clarice, as much as I'd love to help you, you did sorta bring this on yourself."
"Hey, you thought the same thing," Clarice said indignantly, wiping at her face with her sleeve.
"Yeah, but I knew better than to say anythin'."
"Still don't know how any of you made that mistake to begin with," Logan muttered.
Marie elbowed him. "We can't all smell pheromones, you know. Though speakin' of that, you still gettin' anythin' from Raven and Hank?"
Now he was the one who grimaced. "A little more than I'd like," he said. "Sometimes these senses are a goddamn curse."
Somehow, she managed not to laugh. "What about the new people?" she asked. "I don't mean like that, but just...well, anythin' weird, that we don't have."
"Not much more than the obvious. They're all pissed and scared and malnourished. There's somethin' chemical around 'em, but I smelled that in the place we grabbed 'em from. Doubt they brought that back from the future."
"Huh. Wish it was easier to talk to 'em," Marie said. "They might be less freaked out. Even the blonde kid's got a hard time, and she's the only one who seems to understand a damn thing."
"Let the Professor talk to 'em," he said. "They can show him what they can't tell. He can tell us."
"Honestly, I'm not so sure I want to know," Clarice said. "I mean, our future's bad enough." She jumped, with another strange eep-ing noise. "Goddammit, you two!" she hissed, glaring at Kitty and Magneto while she tried to dig a crouton out of her ear.
"There are worse things than croutons," Kitty said flatly.
Logan laughed before he could help it - mostly at Clarice's suddenly terrified expression, but also partly at Kitty. Consciously or not, she was mimicking Magneto's speech patterns as closely as her higher voice would allow.
Marie must have noticed it, too, because she choked on a snicker and failed to contain it. "Kitty, all you'd need to be a supervillain is a long-haired white cat to pet."
"Don't say that," Clarice whimpered. "I'd spend the rest of my life checking my shoes for hairballs before I put them on."
To Logan's (this time silent) amusement, Kitty looked thoughtful. She elbowed Magneto, who seemed occupied with flinging more soggy bread bits at Ororo. "How do you feel about adopting a cat?"
He blinked, but apparently the last few days had taught him to just roll with the weird non-sequiturs. He glanced at the rather petrified Clarice. "I'm not sure I'm ready to be a parent," he deadpanned.
Marie burst into full-throated laughter, jolting the rest of the newcomers awake. While the two girls still looked uncertain, at least they weren't afraid, which was more than could be said for the others.
"Don't ask," Logan said, looking at the blonde kid. "It's a long story, and honestly, it doesn't make that much sense even to us."
She was quiet a moment, then turned to chatter at her companions. They relaxed - mostly. He couldn't really blame them for still being a little wary, especially with this group.
The plane touched down, taxiing to a stop so smooth that he figured Hank must have gotten over his hangover. Their disembarking, however, was a lot rougher, since Clarice was trying to stick to Marie like glue, and the goon squad seemed afraid to go back out into the open air. Logan remained behind, waiting to help get the Professor and his wheelchair out.
Hank opened the cabin door, looking indescribably weary. "Everyone still alive?" he asked, glancing around the empty plane.
"For now," Logan said. "Professor, how are we gonna get everybody back to the mansion?"
The Professor gave him a small, almost beatific smile. "We're taking a bus. And no, you are not driving."
Marie yawned, back cracking as she stretched. She had no idea what time it was, but the moon was well up, gilding the tarmac with a slight silvery sheen. It was still warm, the air humid and breathless, but she didn't mind - it was a tangible reminder that they were no longer in France.
Clarice was stuck to her like a second shadow, but that didn't keep the croutons away - one dropped right down the back of the poor girl's shirt, while another lodged itself in her hair. After that she apparently gave up, because she portaled herself to the other end of the tarmac.
"You can run," Kitty said, "but you can't hide."
"Exactly how long are you gonna keep this up?" Marie asked.
Kitty shrugged. "Until I feel like stopping. Don't worry, Rogue - we aren't going to hurt anyone. And I already put down that if she's having nightmares from the house, she's temporarily off-limits. She was actually in the basement, after all."
Marie shivered. "Good." She wasn't looking forward to Logan's nightmares - and she knew he'd have them. He couldn't stay awake forever. "Part of me wishes I knew what the hell was behind it all, and another part doesn't ever wanna find out." She had, however, an unfortunate feeling that sooner or later they would.
"I don't even want to think about it. With all these people to deal with, none of us might have much time."
"I hope you're right." Marie looked at Raven, who was talking to the blonde girl and gesturing at the bus - probably trying to convince them that it was safe to ride. Her companions ran the gamut from nervous to mutinous. She just hoped that they wouldn't all run away as soon as they'd reached the mansion.
Aaand they have returned to America! Now they just need to figure out how to communicate with their new houseguests, and find out just what the hell happened in the far future. They'll also get some idea of what's happened to Trask.