Chapter 12

Gambit made to move past Sabretooth, to dash down the NYC-bound tunnel. As Sabretooth advanced however, Gambit spied something coming from the City. A tall form, muscular shoulders and arms. A scraping sound could be heard as the man dragged something behind him. Sickly green sparks danced from where the tip of a barbed metal staff dragged on the tunnel floor. Gambit knew him: Harpoon. A second figure flanked Harpoon, lanky, ropy, malnourished-looking, tangle of greasy white hair hung limply on either side of his gaunt face: Riptide.

And Gambit thought he'd couldn't be more terrified after having been pinned between Essex and Magneto. This was far, far worse.

Sabretooth leapt high, Gambit went low, springing forward to his hands, propelling himself in a front-flip to land before the wall. Above him, a pipe no more than four-feet in diameter, about seven feet over his head. He leapt upwards, caught the edge of the pipe. Feet scrambling on the wall, he launched himself into the pipe. He felt Sabretooth's claws grip him by the end of his cape, fabric tore. He ripped the cape and cowl from his face and head, let Sabretooth have it before he could be yanked back. He was running half folded over, half crawling down the length of the corrugated pipe. A light at the end, the length of a football field away. Sabretooth and Harpoon would be too big to get him here. Not Riptide, however.

"The..itsy...bitsy...spiiiider," Riptide sang, his raspy insane voice echoing down the tube. Gambit struggled to quicken his pace. "Climbed up...the….water spout…"

"Please, God in Heaven," Gambit gasped, the end of the tunnel coming closer.

"Down...came...the rain...and…" here Riptide paused. Knowing what was about to happen, Gambit launched himself at the end of the pipe, gripped the edge, yanked himself forward. "Washed...the spider out!"

As Gambit unfolded himself from the pipe, hundreds of bone spikes exploded from the pipe above like buckshot from a hunting rifle, peppering the wall beyond. Gambit now found himself in a long rectangular corridor. Below the pipe was a walkway with a rusting iron railing. Beyond the railing, a swift moving flow of water, runoff from the city streets, flowing like an underground river. When Gambit fell from the pipe to hit the walkway, he found his feet flew out from underneath him. He hit the ground forcefully, feeling waves of nausea. The tunnel twisted, inverted, began to spin.

Gambit groaned, crawling in an unknown direction, eyes squeezed shut. His stomach heaved, but having nothing in it, he only retched bile.

"Don't go, widdle Wemykins," said a taunting voice. "Stay and pway with me."

Gambit retched again: Vertigo. He struggled in the direction he thought would take him away from her. Then realized his mistake and not a moment too soon. He rolled onto his back as the heel of her foot crashed down beside his head. The river should be to his left. He rolled right, grasped the iron railing, heaved himself into the drink.

The current swept him away and out of Vertigo's influence. He was propelled along, feeling debris and trash buffer him in the filthy water. Gambit's legs scrambled for purchase, if he could just stand… Up ahead, a drop off. Water cascaded off the edge into a dark void. As he passed over the lip of the waterfall, he grabbed at a pipe to stop his fall. He could feel flakes of rust and corroded pipe crumble in his gloved grip. The pipe came away from the wall on one side, and for a moment, he dangled over empty space. All around him, inside this great interior tower, water flowed in from all directions. Below him, a whirlpool. The pipe gave way with a screech and Gambit was falling down, down, down, to land in the water below; he was submerged.

Immediately, he felt himself drawn towards the center of the whirlpool. His life, literally circling the drain. Kicking, reaching with strong strokes, he struggled away from the suction. As he spun round and round, he spotted a ladder going upwards. He struggled against the current for it, his fingers brushed the metal but could not grasp it. Again he circled. This time he readied himself, launched himself toward the ladder, muscles in his sides tearing in effort. Right hand grasped and held firm. He pulled himself from the current, and began to climb.

At the top of the ladder, he collapsed. Finding himself in yet another tunnel, this one tall with an arched top. At one end, he saw a keyhole shaped passage. The light beyond was warm flickering red-yellow, a fire. He pulled himself to his feet, staggered towards the light. Behind him, a noise. He turned. Arclight, Prism: a dynamic duo. Arclight clapped her hands, and a bright light flashed, amplified by Prism's body. Gambit watched a glow build within Prism's crystalline form. Gambit ran.

As he dashed into the great alley beyond the passage, he dove to one side. A white-hot beam of light blasted from the corridor behind him, scorching the floor and far wall of the alley. Gambit was blinded. He blinked and tumbled down a set of concrete steps, landing on the ground on his back. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision while also crawling backwards and away from where he knew Arclight and Prism to be, where they would soon be coming for him. Gambit's hand came down in something soft. Wetness saturated his glove. He blinked spots, looked down. His hand was in someone's face, that is, if the person still had a face to begin with. With a horrified cry, he lurched away from the corpse. He saw then he was in an enormous space, with an arching ceiling overhead. At even intervals all along the walls were keyhole-shaped passageways like the one he'd come through. Several fires burned along the center of the alley in barrel-like containers. The passage was littered with bodies of the deceased, men, women...children. Blood splattered the walls, a rivulet of red ran down the center of the alley.

Gambit struggled to breathe through his panic. All along the alley, figures were appearing, seemingly within every open doorway. A rogue's gallery of horror. Every face he could put a name to. Every face was turned in his direction, eyes shining with malicious, malevolent glee. He knew with certainty that he was about to die. Horribly, painfully. There would be no corpse to return home to his family's crypt. The monsters delighted in his very obvious terror, closing in on him from all sides.

"I call dibs on his heart," Sabretooth said.

"That's fine," Vertigo said airily. "It's not the part of him I was interested in anyway."

Sabretooth's hand closed on Gambit's right upper arm. To his left, yet another monster stood, Blockbuster. Together they pulled Gambit to his feet. He was unable to stand on his own. Slowly, and almost gently, they walked him toward a wall, pinned him there against it.

"Little help, Harpoon?" Sabretooth said.

Gambit released a strangled sound, struggling against the hands gripping him. Harpoon readed a weapon, jammed it through Gambit's right shoulder joint and pinned him to the wall. He screamed and his legs collapsed. He hung by his shoulder from the weapon. A second harpoon went through his left armpit. Absolute agony. It seemed he was not bleeding. Instead, he felt his body try to knit itself back together, around the murder weapons pinning him to the wall, making them a part of himself. Gambit did not recognize the sounds he was making as coming from a human. Sabretooth leaned close, his fetid breath hot in Gambit's face. He usually preceded his actions with some kind of threat, but this time he simply raked his claws down Gambit's chest, from the base of his throat to his groin, shredding his uniform, the elastic bandages hidden beneath.

As one, the murderers looked down at Gambit's glowing chest.

"That's new," said Blockbuster slowly.

There was no blood, just ribbons of pink and white energy shining from wounds. They knit themselves back together. Light was bleeding from Gambit's shoulders where he was pinned by the two harpoons. The monsters considered this carefully, looked at one another quizzically.

"So it'll just take that much longer to rip him to shreds," Sabretooth shrugged.

"The boss man said not to kill him," Blockbuster intoned.

"Sinister can get fucked," Sabretooth said. "He's not given me a dime. I'm taking my payment in blood. His," he jabbed a claw into Gambit's gut.

"What Sinny doesn't know, won't kill him!" Riptide announced shrilly.

Sabretooth grinned. "And I won't forget that runt shitbrick, Wolverine. I can't wait. Sinister said the back door to the School would be open. Those stupid mutie kids will never see us coming!"

Gambit felt a hot wash of dread, of terror beyond his previous imaginings.

Once more, the killers closed in. Across the alley, past the bodies and the burning barrels, another figure appeared. Gambit recognized him. His blood-spattered face was a rictus of murderous glee, unleashed in his element. Gambit's heart collapsed.

"John," he said quietly, miserably, with defeat. "Why did you do this?"

Apparently, the alley was a whispering gallery. Greycrow heard Gambit's voice as if he'd spoken directly into his ear. His expression changed. His black eyes met Gambit's red and black ones. He looked surprised.

"H-hey," Greycrow said, haltingly. "Hey! Let him go."

"Fuck off, Injun," Sabretooth said. "This doesn't concern you. We got beef with this punk."

Greycrow raised his rifle, shot Sabretooth in the shoulder. The huge cat snarled. "You're going to pay for that!"

Greycrow fired again, and in a fury, Sabretooth grasped Gambit by the throat, choking off his air. Claws dug into his flesh. "You want this kid so bad?" Sabretooth said. "You can have him back in pieces!"

Greycrow's teeth were bared in a snarl of hatred. His gaze shifted from Sabretooth to Gambit. He took in the sight of Gambit's glowing heart. Greycrow changed his target, pointing his weapon at Gambit's chest.

"'Bye, Remy," he heard Greycrow whisper.

"John," Gambit croaked. "Don't-."

"Don't feel bad. You tried. Fought for me. This is how I can thank you."

"Please. Don't."

The rifle fired. The round flew. Then the world exploded.

Next: Knocked for a loop.