November 26
Oh, what a day! I'm so tired and all seems very quiet so far, with the occasional shot being heard from afar. The dimming lights above me are soothing, but it does not compare to the unusual day that I had with Logan. He's been out constantly looking for something or someone before today, but he has yet to find it or has and will not tell us. Either way, no information has been forthwith, people have been cautious of us and Michael and Riley seem lonely without the kids they befriended on the truck. But trust is a long road and I am hoping it would be a fruitful one.
Indeed, everything is not going according to plan and everything about ours need to change. I have yet to meet with the person I want to, Mae has been busy with the nurses and Devon and Rogue have been getting their reputation out there. All according to the plan, I suppose, but today was not on the list of things to do and most certainly not what should be going on with a war outside our doors. Honestly, it all started with Logan this morning, a seemingly innocent time which differed greatly from now. About the time we got up, he went in search of Rogue and Devon and dragged them back to our cubicle about fifteen minutes later by their ears (literally), demanding that they watch Michael and Riley after breakfast.
"Why, Dad?" Devon demanded as he and Rogue were released, wanting to pick a fight and annoyed perhaps that his time with Rogue was interrupted.
"Because I fuckin' said so." Logan's word seemed final and his face a mask of what he truly felt. "Now, get on with breakfast."
Devon wanted to get the last word in, but I shot him a face that said the same message, which made him shut up. Rogue did not bother to add anything although her nonverbal motions said a lot more than simple annoyance. She flipped her long brown and white hair and searched for the breakfast line, Devon soon behind her and eying her ass (amongst others things). Mae was with the other nurses, so Logan and I took Michael and Riley through the lines this time. However, when we were finished, Rogue and Devon took over. Logan pulled me in another direction and made me leave without a goodbye. He then grabbed our winter gear, stopping and giving enough time to get them on. We then went outside, signing our names to those going outside the fence.
It was an oddly sunny day. Logan led me to a car that he seemed to be borrowing for the day. He opened the door on the passenger side for me, pulling a set of keys out of his pocket as he closed the door for me. He then entered the driver side and started the car. He drove on, stopping only to allow the gate to open for us, and began a long trip into the unknown.
I was not familiar with the area like Logan was. It didn't take too long to figure out where he was going though. He was going west, heading right over the border to British Columbia within the hour. He drove like this in silence for some time, not telling me where we were going and why. I didn't bother asking or connecting with him. I figured this to be private and didn't ask any questions, seeing the serious determination on his face. Mostly, conversation was about the weather and maybe a word or two about the mountains. From afar, I found the landscape pretty and wanted to say something other than a complaint about the cold. Logan didn't respond, but he nodded a few times. He was listening.
About noon, when I was getting hungry for lunch and asking where the nearest convenience store was, Logan turned sharply into a snowy driveway. I didn't think it was there if we passed it, but it looked like it hadn't been seeing usage in recent years, even though the way seems plowed somewhat. Logan had to dodge all of the potholes filled with some snow, avoid skidding off the way a few times and once stopped the car to move aside some broken tree branches. It took some time, but we soon reached a large clearing, fields on both sides opening up to grey skies. From there, we passed some small rundown buildings, sheds and even a small cottage or two. Down the way, as Logan drove through and over some snow drifts and piles, was a huge house, buried in dead trees and some winter-like foliage.
It took some time for Logan to find a spot to park the car safely and have a place to turn around in. I was sure that someone was here recently to clear out the snow though. Footprints littered the foundation of the house and a shovel stood haphazardly in the doorway. Logan ignored this and turned the car off, getting out to help me. I stepped out and sensed the area, sensing some danger, but nothing immediate and with no clear objection for this trip yet. Logan showed the same attitude as well (he cleared his mind of all purpose, it seemed), taking my hand and leading me to the door. Once he opened it, a flood of memories crawled out from him, all of them good and bad. From there, I deduced that we were at the home in which he spent his childhood, a home that has seen generation after generation of families try to make it theirs, but never succeeding.
The door opened with an eerie creek. Logan went in first (the heavier out of the two of us), his hand still holding mine, testing each floorboard to ensure safety. However, I knew the place to still be sound for the most part. I followed behind him, looking around at the wide, open space above our heads, the nineteenth century chandelier sparkling dust above our heads and the snow sprinkling white glitter from the tiny cracks from overhead down in our faces. Logan past all of this, his chest squeezing tightly as we went up the stairs (even I felt it), our footsteps sounding heavy. We managed it, making holes a few times with our feet (panicking as we did), but navigated the hallway with more ease.
It was then that Logan directed me down the hallway upstairs, turned to the right towards the end and entered a room that used to be a library. Abandoned bookcases without the books lined the walls and an antique desk sat in the center. However, I was surprised to see Parker sitting in the chair at the desk, his hands folded against the cold and his body bundled into layers of clothing to battle it. He stared at us with urgency. It was then and there that I saw the danger, one that Parker was going to warn us of.
"I apologize for bringing you here, Jimmy," Parker began uncertainly, seeing perhaps the pain in Logan's eyes. "It was the only place they didn't know you stayed."
"What do you want?" I blurted out, finally seeing the purpose of this trip.
Parker turned to me. "Even without you friend's help, Department H has publically stated that they are buying Trask's Sentinel program and are now infiltrating the Canadian government as we speak. They already have held official hostages and are willing to exchange them for others they want more. Here."
From a pocket, Parker pulled out a paper, similar to a wanted poster from the olden days, and handed it to me. I took it, but was surprised that it was not one person, they were searching for, but many and all of them mutants or humans known for equality. An X was put on a picture when noting that they were captured or dead, but many more were at large, including us…us…and all of the X-Men and the Brotherhood. I even saw pictures of Jean and Scott, shivering when I recalled that they too were killed by the tragic Dark Phoenix, and some mutants I recalled were from communities across the globe. When I reached the bottom, shocked into a wordless silence, I saw Parker's picture there.
I looked up, handing it to Logan. He took a quick glance and said nothing, crumbling the paper in his hands and putting it in his pocket.
"What does it mean for us?" he asked Parker, his face a mask.
"It means that there will be no refuge for the mutants anymore," Parker simply stated. "We are all hunted people. Other countries are slowly falling and the wrong people are put in charge. Spain, England, Wales, Ireland, Portugal, France, Iceland, Denmark, Russia…you think these countries who've hated the United States will stand back and allow a safe zone for all people from there, the starting point? You think they don't have their jealousy and fear of mutants and those who helped them?"
"What about the Red Cross?" My stomach was twisting in a million directions. "They have been authorized to have a safe area for mutants."
Parker waved his hand in dismissal. "It's to be no more. You have a few hours, at most a day, before an assault will begin. The workers are aware and not telling the population anything without panic, but it won't be long before it'll get to them and become more obvious. Men will want to take arms and defend what's theirs. The fear will leave them and bring to reality what they need to protect. But before long, when there are too many women and children, they will take up what's been left behind to them."
"This can't be happening." I couldn't believe it, refused to. "This really can't be happening. We just got here."
"Because you've been followed," Parker replied, matter-of-factly. "Since the agreement with Canada and Mexico, the United States has been following up with more and more treaties and laws of the continent. Trask has been said to be teamed up with the president and Congress. So far, they are debating getting rid of the judicial branch. Soon, those in Congress would be working to get rid of the president too."
Logan was quiet for a moment, thinking.
"Just like that?" I asked dumbly. "They start with the Canadian government after they feel secure with the United States? They teaming up to form one government?"
"The legislative branches of all governments have been in control for years, raising their wages and increasing the wealth and pockets of those around them," Parker pointed out. "It's just coming together in a power play that might soon take control over all. I'm sure that Trask will put people in there that they like and those people will turn to them to solve the mutant problems. It's an equal give-and-take for all."
"When should we expect the start?" Logan asked, his thoughts hidden again behind the mask. "Where will you go?"
Park shrugged his shoulders, standing up as a whisper of snow whizzed by his ears from above. "I'm an old man. I may be wanted, but my life isn't worth that much anymore and hasn't been since my wife was killed. I've done what I needed to do, started a mess in the process and need to finish it. It may be the last time I see you all, but it won't be in vain."
A rumbling was soon heard outside. I jumped in fright, but Logan held me, to calm down my fears. However, I soon felt him shaking too and it wasn't from the cold either.
"It'll be slow at first," Parker continued, sensing the same things we had. "They'll do a buck shot here and there, maybe send in a sniper when they're really desperate. As the months go by though, it'll get heavier. They'll send in more and more people, kidnap someone, maybe a kid or someone who doesn't mean much. But you'll suddenly wake up one morning and it'll be done. The place will be in ruins and everyone will be in chains."
"And the help you promised?" I asked, scared of the answer.
"Nothing heard from him yet," Parker confirmed sadly. "So far as I can tell, he might have been captured with the rest of the ministers in Parliament."
Parker and Logan exchanged a look, the two knowing the person and not saying the name, in hopes that it would not incriminate them. Then, we all heard another rumbling noise, closer than the last. Now that it was closer, I could identify the sound. I had heard it many time before, when Leon was still alive, and could never forget it.
"Tanks," Logan stated dully.
"That was too quick," I added, looking at Parker.
"They know you're here," Parker whispered, motioning that we stay quiet too. "Get out of here."
"And you?" Logan asked again.
"I'll be fine," Parker reassured him, pushing him and me out physically. "Out! And do me a favor and live through this."
Logan and I didn't need to be told twice. We both went out the way we came, careful of the steps and holes in the floor. Towards the door, Logan picked me up mid-run and started moving quicker, getting us to the car and starting it up just as a tank rolled over the hill behind the house. Before I knew it, Logan was darting out of the way and driving down the road out of the property as an army of tanks started shooting at the house. The noise was enough to make me jump in my seat and get my heart beating faster in my throat, but I dared not look back.
In seconds, we were on the main road and driving away, faster than the normal speed limit. Logan said nothing during the way out, but I sensed that he was upset in a way. It wasn't just seeing his childhood home. It was the warnings that Parker gave us and the sudden attack. It was suspicious in the worst way, like Parker led them here. And to what purpose? It could be that Parker is now dead, a man off of their list.
After a while, nearing Alberta once more, I started talking. "You knew what this was about."
"No," Logan admitted, the word feeling like the truth. "I wish I did. Otherwise, I would not have come or brought you here. It was too dangerous."
"Are you telling me that Parker asked only for a meeting?" I asked, curious.
"No details," Logan confirmed. "We both thought it was a location nobody could find yet. Nobody knew where I came from and everyone who did is now dead. But that wanted poster clued me into something. If they were so eager to find us and knew what happened to each of us, they would eventually discover us."
I said nothing more. Instead, I stared out the window, watching the scenery. I now saw it in a different light than earlier in the day. I was watching as what we knew and loved would be destroyed in a flurry of military tanks and fire.
One of the Red Cross workers said it's now time for the lights to go out. The shots have increased and one went through a window, I heard. Everyone has to lay as flat as they can and stay there for the night except in emergencies. For the time being, I will close, but with a heavy heart. I don't know when I can write next, but it will hopefully say that we have been victorious and on the next step.