Disclaimer and Acknowledgements: These characters belong to Marvel. No
infringement is intended and no money is being made from this. This is
merely for entertainment purposes only. This story was inspired by the
"Eternal Monday" drabble challenge found at the x_men100 Livejournal
community.
Rated R for some language and violence.
Please send all comments to gigigalaxie@hotmail.com
Eternal Monday
By Gigi Galaxie
There were lines on her face that weren't there when the day started. Along with several gray strands in her black hair. Her entire body slumped as a great weariness sat on her shoulders. "I give up," she sighed as she just stopped where she was and sat down. Rocks in the asphalt dug into her legs.
"Is that it then? You're just quittin' on me, darlin?"
"What's the fucking point, Logan? Huh? We are in the fucking middle of nowhere. This road will never end. This day will never end. And there's not a fucking soul here to help us."
Logan said nothing but balled his fists tightly. His teeth ground together in rising anger. He refused to look at her, sitting cross-legged in the middle of a country highway that held no travelers but them. They have gone at least two dozen sleep cycles on this eternal day where the sun held its position at high noon and did not ever set.
The silence was driving him crazy. He could feel the rage scratching at the back of his head like it was trying to shred his sanity. No birds chirped. No wind blew his wild hair. The clouds were rigid in the sky. Never moving.
"Face it. This is hell," Jubilee spat.
"Listen," Logan said sharply, squatting down beside her. His eyes were cold with tinges of something darker lurking in them. Jubilee just looked back at him in defiance. "I've been seeing something different in the horizon. Perhaps a city. Perhaps nothing. But it could be the others. We both received the telepathic call when we first got here so that's got to mean one of the telepaths survived. Maybe some of the others did too. My instinct tells me we should go for what's ahead. So that's where I'm going, darlin'. You do what you want."
She could hear the contempt in his voice but it did nothing except deepen her sneer. "I'm. Not. Fucking. Going."
"Fine. Good luck to you then," He hitched his small makeshift pack on his back and started walking away from her. He kept his eyes forward as his boot heels made flat clicks on the highway.
Click.
Click.
She held her hands over her ears and bowed her head in negation. "Let me die," she whispered in tears. "God, just please let me die."
* * *
It begins with an incredible searing pain that starts from his groin and flashes upward. He is doubled over as the world around him goes blinding white. Something has gone wrong with the temporal anomaly. An implosion of some sort. And it is somehow dragging him closer to it.
Jubilee calls out his name. He can hear the terror in her voice. The others are screaming as they are sucked into the vortex that has been created by the implosion. There is nothing to hold on to. There is no help to be had.
He is pulled closer and closer and he cannot stop it. The pain intensifies and soon he hears himself screaming as well. Thick blood runs down from his nose and eyes. The white world takes on an angry reddish hue. And as he is about to be sucked into the void, he feels himself ripping apart from the inside out.
* * *
He awoke from the nightmare with a strangled cry and found himself in a ready stance with his claws extended. His eyes darted around madly from side to side. His nose twitched, hoping for a lingering scent.
There was no one. There was nothing.
He almost cried out for Jubilee but then remembered that he left her several sleep cycles ago. Part of him, the part that wasn't controlled by his anger, had hoped that she was just bluffing and would run after him like a child needing reassurance after throwing a tantrum. But she hadn't. She had chosen despair and he was left to take the highway alone under the gaze of the never-ending sun.
Before setting off again, he allowed himself a quick breakfast of the venison from his pack. He tried not to think of Jubilee, left alone without food, as he tried to stomach the old meat. It had already gone bad. The deer itself had not looked very good when he had killed it. Old and slow, it was a reflection of this strange world. A world that seemed to suck the life out of all that lived there. Jubilee even shown signs of rapid aging, but he didn't. His healing factor protected him from this harsh world's effects.
He resumed his endless walk, every now and then humming a tune that flitted through his mind. But most of the walk was made in silence as he retreated into his increasingly chaotic thoughts. He too felt the despair of hopelessness. It threatened to pull him under but he kept remembering the telepathic burst. It had been nonsensical and gray, but nevertheless, he felt that some sort of direction was put upon him.
Go this way.
He hadn't felt one since though and that worried him. But he was alive. Jubilee was alive, last he knew. So others had to have survived as well. He had to just keep walking towards the blurry horizon, hoping that the dark hulk he saw was his salvation and not his damnation.
* * *
The trees that lined the road were dead and did nothing to protect him from the glaring sun. He sat with his back against a tree, taking a bit of a break before continuing on. It wasn't as if he was physically tired but he needed to break up his "day" from the maddening monotony. Chewing on a dry stalk of wheat, he closed his eyes.
The snap of a branch behind him was so loud in the deafening silence that he almost shouted in surprise.
He was up in quick fluid motion, claws out, mouth in a sneer. "Who's there?"
* * *
She didn't know how long she was there on the asphalt but she instinctively knew that quite a bit of time had passed. She had fallen asleep and woke up to find herself lying on the rocky ground. Groaning, she stood up on legs that tingled from the lack of circulation and glanced around.
No one. Nothing.
But what did she expect? Logan was gone. And she was left here to die.
"Fuck you!" she screamed at the nothing. "Fuck you to hell!"
Hot tears began welling in her eyes. The surrounding silence was claustrophobic, closing in on her, squeezing her into a panic. Her heart started to race. The world was too open. Too empty. Her terror rose as she realized that she was to be the nothing's next victim.
She took off running down the highway, tears streaming down her wrinkled cheeks.
* * *
An angry stitch gripped her side and her lungs burned from exhaustion. Jubilee stopped her run and bent over, hands on her knees, breathing in short gasps. She had only gone about a quarter of a mile. Already, she was done. She could go no farther. And the realization of it frightened her.
She used to be able to run a mile with ease. Her training as an X-Man ensured her the pinnacle of fitness and endurance. It was like the strength of her body was being sucked out little by little. She looked down at her hands. They were wrinkled with age spots spreading over them. Not the smooth porcelain hands she had when she first came here.
This was how she was going to die. Alone. In a strange world. Rapidly aging until she was nothing but dust. She had not the strength to try to catch up with Logan now.
Standing back up, ignoring the pain in her back, she glanced around. Thickets of dead brush and field. Dying trees standing like grotesque sentinels dotted the landscape. Everything here was dead or dying. But there was something else and it gave her hope. She saw what looked to be an old lake. Perhaps it had some water left in it. Saliva rushed into her mouth at the prospect.
She struggled through the dead brush, enduring scratches from the thorns. Blood beads glistened brightly in the sunlight. When she came up to it, her heart did a leap of joy. It was indeed an old lakebed and there was just a little bit of water left. She hurried as much as she could to the glorious puddle. There were tracks leading up to it and she thought of Logan. He too had found this waterhole.
The water was warm but foul. She coughed up the first swallow because of its nastiness. But her need was too great and she drunk again quickly. Her stomach clenched as she laid down beside the water. She closed her eyes in rest.
* * *
Time immeasurable passed. Her eyes fluttered open as a feeling of great unease crept over her. The hairs on the back of her neck rose from the undeniable sense of being watched. Slowly she rose to a sitting position. Her breath caught in her throat as she turned her head.
"Oh, thank God!" She sighed with relief. "You're really here."
A growl, low and menacing, was her only answer.
Jubilee's blood suddenly ran cold. His eyes. They were cold blue orbs with nothing but a bestial hunger in them. Any sign of his previous human intelligence and warmth was gone. Crouching near her, like a tiger ready to strike, he growled at her again.
Oh shit, she thought in her rising panic. Ohshitohshitohshit.
She took a small, hesitant step back. "Please stop. This isn't funny. What happened to you?"
He advanced slowly, no comprehension dawning. No recognition at all. She realized just how small she was compared to him. And how sharp his claws were.
Blast him! Her mind cried out. Blast him!
She held out her hands, heart beating like a wild drum, and fired her pyrotechnics.
Nothing but a faint sputter.
She cried out in horror, confused at her failure, as he snarled and leapt at her. Screaming, she tried to run but he easily overtook her. Hot rank breath flooded her senses and he bit down hard on her neck. Her scream died on her lips. Blood and pieces of gore flew as he took one set of claws and ripped her stomach open. Her hands scratched at him, trying vainly to fend him off. But he kept digging his teeth in deeper and deeper. Eating at her.
Her strength was failing. Her vision was failing. The world was turning gray. Logan, she tried to whisper but only bloody bubbles came forth.
The day finally turned into an endless black night.
* * *
There was only silence.
"Who's there?" Logan demanded again. A rustle came from the thick tangle of brush in front of him. "Jubilee?"
A very old woman, shriveled and starving, stumbled out. Her clothes were shredded almost indecently, covered in dried blood, and there were seeping scars all over her emaciated body. Like a wild animal had attacked her. Her voice was brittle when she spoke. "Help me please."
Logan approached her with caution, retracting his claws but still keeping primed for any possible attack. The woman took one step towards him and fell. Her cry split through his head like a dagger. He looked at her lying on the ground and winced. Several of her wounds had broken open and her hipbones stood out in strange angles. One was almost poking though her skin.
"Help me please." she whispered again. Her eyes were clouded with tears but he could see the desperation in them just the same. She was in an incredible amount of pain.
Logan turned from her for a moment, torn between emotions. Leave her. She's a good as dead, one part said. Another part disagreed. Put her out of her misery. As you would a wounded deer.
Fresh meat, the darker third whispered seductively. Food.
* * *
It took him seven more sleep cycles before he reached the crumbling town. The time till then had passed without incident. Jubilee had not come back, and he felt her absence more and more.
The highway that he followed was the main road to this small town. Two stoplights divided the intersections. Neither of them worked. There was no traffic to direct. Except him. The lonely traveler.
He studied the houses and buildings. All crumbling. All falling back to the earth to become dust. No movement anywhere. He walked on. The glint of hope in his heart was fading. This was where he thought the telepathic burst led him. Perhaps he was supposed to go beyond this place. Follow the highway to the edge of the world.
He stopped in the middle of the first intersection and looked down the other road. Another highway just like the one he followed stretched from one point of the horizon to the other. Was this the yellow brick road? Where was the path to Oz?
Any urgency he had to keep walking left him. This was the first place that wasn't field or brush and he allowed himself a curious look around. As he checked the first set of buildings, he stopped suddenly at the catch of a familiar scent. He followed it, coming to a small grocery that looked like it was more stable than the other buildings.
He paused at the front. The scent was much stronger here. Slowly he opened the door.
And was struck by plasma gunfire.
* * *
When he awoke, Logan felt himself lying on the floor with a large gun to his temple.
"The first shot was set to stun," Bishop said coldly. "This time I don't think even you can survive it."
Logan tried to move, but his body was still recovering from the harsh stun attack. Bishop held the gun harder against his skull. "Do you know who I am?"
Logan's eyes darted over to Bishop. The large man had definitely aged. His skin had taken on an ashy color and his facial hair was completely gray. His jowls were soft and drooping but his eyes were as hard as ever. "Yeah, Bishop. But I've seen you look better."
Bishop gave a small, joyless smile and retracted his gun. "Good to see you too, Logan."
He helped Logan sit up. "Sorry about the warm welcome, but I had to be sure."
"Sure of what?"
"That you were of sound mind."
"What makes you think that I'm not?"
Bishop just studied him for a moment. "I can see it in your eyes. There's something there, probably the beast inside of you that you've always struggled with. But I do see sanity."
Logan frowned unable to reply. Bishop stood up and waved for him to follow. They walked into the main part of the building. The shelves were empty and smashed. Some of them reduced to nothing but splinters. Logan wondered if Bishop had broken them. In frustration? Or did something else happen?
Blankets and a few cans of food were piled in the middle of the faded linoleum floor. Bishop offered him to sit down. "Anybody else with you?" Bishop asked, throwing him a can of old franks and beans.
Logan popped a single claw and tore an opening. He didn't look at Bishop when he replied. "Jubilee. But she didn't make it."
Bishop sighed. "You're the first person I've seen in.a long time. There's no way to tell is there? No days to count. But I know it's been a long time. Scott and Rogue left to search for survivors not long after we got here. Neither of them made it back yet. Jean, Hank, and I stayed back here."
"Was it Jean that sent that telepathic call?"
"Yes, but doing so messed with her mind. Her powers had started to malfunction. Short circuit. It was getting really bad because she started messing with our minds too. And Hank, he ended up." his voice trailed off almost in shame.
Logan felt his suspicion rising. "Hank did what?" he demanded.
Bishop bowed his head and pointed over to the corner. There was Jean, sitting limp against the wall, head lolling to the side. Logan ran over to her. "Jeanie!"
She made no movement except for the occasional blink of her unfocused eyes. Her face was pale and she too hadn't escaped the aging effects. Logan cradled her head in his hands. That was when he saw the angry, twisting scar. "He lobotomized her?" he yelled in fury. "Hank did this to her?"
"He only wanted to help," Bishop said softly. "But he had a hard time getting the courage to do it. And she struggled with him. Fought with him. When he saw that she was still alive after what he did, he fled. I haven't seen him since. I tried to help her best I could. She's all the company I had. I didn't want her to die."
"But look at her!"
"I did what I thought I had to."
* * *
Face it, she says, smiling. This is hell.
* * *
Bishop was staring at him with a thoughtful expression. "You have not aged at all since I last saw you," he said. "I suppose it's your healing factor."
Logan said nothing but ripped a piece of jerky, savoring the saltiness in his mouth.
"I heard you talking in your sleep," Bishop continued. "You said the name Rose several times."
"An old woman I met several days ago," Logan said slowly, disturbed by the mention of the name. "She found me in the fields. She said her name was Rose and that she was from some place I had never heard of before. A wild creature had attacked her but somehow she got away. A lot of good it did though. All she wanted was for me to help her. And I did. I stopped the pain for her."
Bishop raised his eyebrows in question but saw that Logan would say nothing else. A heavy silence weighed between them.
"Something happened when you were sleeping," Bishop said, changing the subject. "Come on out with me."
They walked out of the sanctuary that was the quaint grocery. As Logan stepped outside, he was dumbstruck by the view in front of him. What had once been the other half of the street, littered with gray dilapidated buildings, was now a lush patch of tropical forest. Bright green tree fronds stood out brilliantly from the dead landscape surrounding it. He heard the cawing of birds and rummaging of wildlife from within.
"How?" Logan asked.
"From a vortex like the one we encountered, I imagine. Hank had his theories about this place. Not long after we came here, another piece of land appeared off the horizon there." Logan followed to where Bishop was pointing. Far off in the distance was a patch of dying woods. But not completely dead like the surrounding area. There were still touches of green dotted within it.
"Hank believed this planet to be alive, specifically a single creature needing food. And these vortexes serve to nourish it. The planet sucks the life out anything living on it and then when nothing more can be drained from a place, the vortex opens and teleports in another patch of healthy land. At least that is what Hank thought."
"Was that before or after he snapped?" Logan's words were harsh.
Bishop sighed and chose to ignore the remark. "The only way out of this world would be to use the vortexes somehow. But there is no guarantee where we would end up or when. But to stay here would be a death sentence. At least for me. You, on the other hand, seem to be an endless supply of food. "
* * *
They searched the tropical oasis for any sign of human life but found no one. Logan could see that Bishop held a small bit of hope ever since he told him about Rose. As he searched, he found that he too had been hoping to find someone. Sifting through the lush greenery, he sensed nothing.
Except.
He turned around as he caught the slightest hint of a scent. It had an angry, rabid tinge to it. But it was so faint he could not say for sure what it was or where it was coming from. Still, he felt a cold chill. Someone, something was watching him.
"Perhaps there are others out there that could help us," Bishop said, stepping over the foliage to join Logan.
Logan remained still for a moment. The feeling of being watched was now gone. "Or not," he replied softly.
* * *
She is impaled on his claws. Adamatium dripping with her blood. Her eyes wide with pain and understanding. He watches as she dies.
* * *
Her eyes remained unfocused, staring into her lap. Holding her cold hands, he simply sat with her. He ignored the fact that her skin had taken a disquieting bluish tint. He ignored her lack of pulse.
Sometime during their last sleep cycle, Jean had died.
They were all leaving him, one by one. Jubilee. Jean. Soon it would be Bishop, if they didn't get out of this place, as his health was declining at a rapid pace. His weakness became more evident even by each passing hour and his movements were slower, jerkier. Twice he had slipped and spoke of the strangest things. Such as asking for peanut butter sandwiches.
Dementia. Logan wondered if it was contagious.
* * *
There was a ringing in his head. A sound that wouldn't go away. It made him furious with rage as he couldn't escape it. He howled. He slashed. He destroyed everything around him in a vain attempt to kill whatever had torn apart his sanity.
Th red had taken over. It saturated his mind like the blood of his prey saturated his fur.
The Beast was set free.
* * *
"We can't stay here."
"I know," Logan said. "But you aren't looking so good."
Bishop laughed. The laughter was harsh and led to violent coughing. When he could speak again, Bishop replied, "We have to go. There's something not right."
Logan nodded. "Something's watching us. Probably hunting us."
There was a pause of silence before Bishop said softly, "I don't think the others will ever make it back."
Logan said nothing as he watched the sadness consume the other man. The once tough-as-nails X.S.E. officer sat withered before him, losing his mind a small piece at a time. Facing death as his life was being eaten away. And now coming to face the likely death of his teammates. The rare bit of hope that Logan had seen in him when the tropical oasis first appeared was gone.
"Look," Logan said in a voice roughened by emotion. "It's up to us now. We've held out for the others long enough. It's time we start doing something instead of sitting here on our asses waiting for whatever the hell is out there."
"Before it's too late," Bishop whispered.
"Before it's too late."
* * *
They packed what little supplies were left. It was done mostly in silence that was only interrupted once. Bishop had tried to lift his plasma rifle only to find out that he no longer had the strength to carry it. He cried out in fury, let out a string of curses, and finally threw it to the ground.
Logan watched this display discreetly as he finished tying up his makeshift pack. He kept quiet until the other man cooled down. Then he went over and picked up the plasma rifle. It was heavy, but not too heavy that Logan would have problems carrying it. He slung the gun across his back using the strap. It was just another sign of Bishop's growing weakness. Logan wondered just how far Bishop could travel in his condition.
Would he end up sitting in the middle of the highway, declaring that he would not go any farther, just as Jubilee had?
"You ready?" Logan asked, pushing the thought away. Bishop gave a small nod. His eyes flicked to the gun on Logan's back, but he said nothing.
They left the building and began following the highway that Logan had came in on not so long ago. Two travelers now instead of one. Every now and then, Logan would look back to make sure that there wasn't an unwanted third traveler following them.
* * *
He watched them leave. He watched them as they set out down the highway. Predatory hunger burned in his eyes. They were now out in the open. Vulnerable. While the short stocky one would be a threat, the other one would be an easy kill.
He licked his lips in anticipation and set off on their trail.
* * * Bishop was able to go a lot farther than Logan thought. But towards the end the old man was struggling with every step. He didn't complain though. His pride alone kept him going.
It was Logan that called for the halt.
Bishop collapsed on the asphalt as Logan set their gear down. Logan handed the plasma rifle over to him. "Just in case."
Logan then set off into the wild countryside. His senses primed, he felt the predator within him come forward and take control. He ran low to the ground, quick and quiet, trying to catch a scent. He knew their situation would turn critical soon. They had eaten the last can of food before leaving. And wildlife was sparse in this world.
Fortunately, he caught the trail of a small bear. It was slow but not completely starved yet. He came upon it quickly, tackled it, and slammed his claws into its heart. The bear let out a dying grunt as Logan held it until it died. Already in a weakened state, it gave little struggle. Using his claws, Logan gutted him carefully and chiseled off pieces of meat that he wrapped in plastic to carry back.
When he returned to the highway, Logan saw that Bishop was struggling to stay awake. There was relief in the old man's eyes as he watched Logan approach with the bloodied plastic. "Care for a piece?" Logan asked.
"Only if it's cooked," Bishop said with a small smile. "I'm not eating it raw."
Logan smirked and threw down the kindling that he had picked up on the way back. Bishop arranged the small fire in the middle of the highway. With the landscape dead and dry, they had no doubt that the whole world would burst into flame if they let it get out of hand. Logan thought of this as he struck one of his last matches. He looked thoughtfully at the growing flames as they danced and snapped.
Set the world on fire.
* * *
He saw their fire burning off into the distance as he poked at the carcass of a dead bear. Not much meat left, but there was some. He dipped his head back into the flesh and continued feeding. It wouldn't be enough though.
The buzzing in his head increased, cutting off all thought. It was all about the hunger now. All about the taste of flesh. The girl he had at the waterhole wasn't enough. The broken dead woman that he found on the way to town wasn't enough. Neither was this dead bear.
He hungered for the flesh that currently sat around the small fire.
* * *
Logan kept watch as Bishop slept. The cold chill had returned and he could almost feel the eyes watching his every move. He packed the last of the cooked meat. The fire had died and he kicked apart the remains. Then he just stood there, surveying the landscape.
He hated the feeling of being the prey. Part of him wanted to end this strange standoff and hunt the hunter himself. But he wouldn't leave Bishop, vulnerable and weak. Instead he would just have to keep his guard until the hunter made his move.
* * *
Under the eternal sun, they walked. * * *
It took some convincing, but Bishop finally persuaded Logan to sleep for a bit when they stopped again. "I'll keep watch," Bishop said, propping the plasma rifle up into a comfortable position. "I may be old and lame, but I can still shoot."
Logan finally agreed but found that he had no troubles falling asleep. However, he was only able to rest a short time before intuition pulled him back to consciousness. A strange chill rippled through his body. Something was going to happen. The hunter was going to strike.
He didn't move, but only watched through narrowed eyes. Bishop's shoulders were slumping in fatigue. The man was going to fall asleep soon. He was going to say something but he stopped. That was when he caught it. His nostrils flared as the fevered scent overwhelmed him. It was raw. It was angry. And worse, it was familiar.
Logan saw a blur of bold blue from the corner of his eyes. He was on his feet in a ready stance, claws extended, when Bishop fired the rifle. The shot went slightly wide. He saw with sinking horror the snarling Beast in front of him.
"Oh my God," he heard Bishop say in horror. "Hank?"
Hank McCoy stood there large and imposing with his rough feline features drawn in a sneer. Saliva dripped from his twisted mouth. The once brilliant X-Man was nothing more now than a raging animal. Logan could no sign of the gentle doctor anywhere in Beast's eyes.
Beast flicked his gaze from Bishop to him back to Bishop. Realization dawned. "Hell, no," Logan growled. With a cry, he launched himself at Beast who then dodged Logan's attack with incredible agility. Logan somersaulted on the ground and was on his feet in an instant. But it was an instant too late.
Bishop fired the plasma rifle again but Beast was too quick. With a giant paw, he smacked the weapon away and grabbed for Bishop. Knifelike claws swept across his back as Bishop threw himself to the side and tumbled onto the highway's shoulder.
From behind, Logan charged and stabbed both claws into Beast's back. Beast roared in pain and tried to buck Logan from his back like a wild stallion would a rider. Logan was thrown to the ground.
"So this is the way it goes, huh, McCoy?" he said, picking himself back up. "And everyone was always worried about me going berserk. All along there was you who had the same predatory instincts and urges. You did nothing but denied they existed. I made peace with what I am. You never did, did you? Not the good doctor McCoy."
His words were not hateful but rather full of pity with a touch of sadness. He saw nothing but dumb hatred in return. No recognition. Not even a flicker. He knew looking back at Beast that Hank was too far-gone. Past the point that he always feared crossing. The Hank McCoy he knew was gone.
Logan kept his eyes locked with Beast as they stood at a tentative standoff. Both challenged the other to make the next move. From behind, Bishop picked himself slowly back up and limped to where the rifle had been thrown.
Take the shot, Bishop, Logan thought. Take it now.
And he did.
He fired twice. Both shots struck Beast in the back, knocking the large mutant to the ground. Beast howled with anger and pain. Logan ran over to the slumped form. With a quick swipe, Beast lashed out with his right hand and slashed at Logan. The claws raked across his stomach, digging deep. Logan doubled over and fell to the ground. "Finish him!" Logan shouted. "Do it now, damn it!"
Bishop stumbled over as Beast was preparing to strike Logan again. Blood ran down Bishop's back from the claw wounds, but he kept on. It took all his effort to raise the rifle again and he fired several more times, this time at the Beast's head. It exploded in a shower of blood and brains. The large blue body crumpled to the ground and remained still.
Bishop collapsed and let the gun clatter on the asphalt. "Please tell me," he said in a broken voice. "There was no other way, right? Please tell me there was no other way."
Logan crawled awkwardly, cradling his wounds that were slowly trying to close. He fell beside him on the highway and their blood mingled together in a glittering puddle. "No, Hank was gone. Hank was long gone."
* * *
Logan stood there with the last flickering match in his hand. "You sure?" he asked.
Bishop nodded wearily. The movement caused him to wince as the crude bandages on his back pulled. His wounds were serious but Logan had taken care of them while praying that the man still had strength left in him to heal. "The fire will consume everything. All that's alive or dead. The planet will have no choice but to teleport more nourishment in. We'll make the vortexes come to us now. How we'll use them when they come.I don't know yet."
"Hey, you're the time travelling one here. I'm counting on you to get us out."
Bishop gave a rusty laugh and then winced again. "Do it," he said hoarsely.
Logan let the match fall into a pile of dead brush. At first nothing happened. Then he saw the smoke grow thicker until the flames ignited with hunger.
"Come on," Bishop said. "Let's get a head of it while we can."
Logan watched as the fire began to spread. Then he turned his back to the fire and to the town way off in the blurry distance and to Jubilee lost somewhere in the nothing. He joined Bishop on the highway as the smoke billowed.
Set the world on fire.
Rated R for some language and violence.
Please send all comments to gigigalaxie@hotmail.com
Eternal Monday
By Gigi Galaxie
There were lines on her face that weren't there when the day started. Along with several gray strands in her black hair. Her entire body slumped as a great weariness sat on her shoulders. "I give up," she sighed as she just stopped where she was and sat down. Rocks in the asphalt dug into her legs.
"Is that it then? You're just quittin' on me, darlin?"
"What's the fucking point, Logan? Huh? We are in the fucking middle of nowhere. This road will never end. This day will never end. And there's not a fucking soul here to help us."
Logan said nothing but balled his fists tightly. His teeth ground together in rising anger. He refused to look at her, sitting cross-legged in the middle of a country highway that held no travelers but them. They have gone at least two dozen sleep cycles on this eternal day where the sun held its position at high noon and did not ever set.
The silence was driving him crazy. He could feel the rage scratching at the back of his head like it was trying to shred his sanity. No birds chirped. No wind blew his wild hair. The clouds were rigid in the sky. Never moving.
"Face it. This is hell," Jubilee spat.
"Listen," Logan said sharply, squatting down beside her. His eyes were cold with tinges of something darker lurking in them. Jubilee just looked back at him in defiance. "I've been seeing something different in the horizon. Perhaps a city. Perhaps nothing. But it could be the others. We both received the telepathic call when we first got here so that's got to mean one of the telepaths survived. Maybe some of the others did too. My instinct tells me we should go for what's ahead. So that's where I'm going, darlin'. You do what you want."
She could hear the contempt in his voice but it did nothing except deepen her sneer. "I'm. Not. Fucking. Going."
"Fine. Good luck to you then," He hitched his small makeshift pack on his back and started walking away from her. He kept his eyes forward as his boot heels made flat clicks on the highway.
Click.
Click.
She held her hands over her ears and bowed her head in negation. "Let me die," she whispered in tears. "God, just please let me die."
* * *
It begins with an incredible searing pain that starts from his groin and flashes upward. He is doubled over as the world around him goes blinding white. Something has gone wrong with the temporal anomaly. An implosion of some sort. And it is somehow dragging him closer to it.
Jubilee calls out his name. He can hear the terror in her voice. The others are screaming as they are sucked into the vortex that has been created by the implosion. There is nothing to hold on to. There is no help to be had.
He is pulled closer and closer and he cannot stop it. The pain intensifies and soon he hears himself screaming as well. Thick blood runs down from his nose and eyes. The white world takes on an angry reddish hue. And as he is about to be sucked into the void, he feels himself ripping apart from the inside out.
* * *
He awoke from the nightmare with a strangled cry and found himself in a ready stance with his claws extended. His eyes darted around madly from side to side. His nose twitched, hoping for a lingering scent.
There was no one. There was nothing.
He almost cried out for Jubilee but then remembered that he left her several sleep cycles ago. Part of him, the part that wasn't controlled by his anger, had hoped that she was just bluffing and would run after him like a child needing reassurance after throwing a tantrum. But she hadn't. She had chosen despair and he was left to take the highway alone under the gaze of the never-ending sun.
Before setting off again, he allowed himself a quick breakfast of the venison from his pack. He tried not to think of Jubilee, left alone without food, as he tried to stomach the old meat. It had already gone bad. The deer itself had not looked very good when he had killed it. Old and slow, it was a reflection of this strange world. A world that seemed to suck the life out of all that lived there. Jubilee even shown signs of rapid aging, but he didn't. His healing factor protected him from this harsh world's effects.
He resumed his endless walk, every now and then humming a tune that flitted through his mind. But most of the walk was made in silence as he retreated into his increasingly chaotic thoughts. He too felt the despair of hopelessness. It threatened to pull him under but he kept remembering the telepathic burst. It had been nonsensical and gray, but nevertheless, he felt that some sort of direction was put upon him.
Go this way.
He hadn't felt one since though and that worried him. But he was alive. Jubilee was alive, last he knew. So others had to have survived as well. He had to just keep walking towards the blurry horizon, hoping that the dark hulk he saw was his salvation and not his damnation.
* * *
The trees that lined the road were dead and did nothing to protect him from the glaring sun. He sat with his back against a tree, taking a bit of a break before continuing on. It wasn't as if he was physically tired but he needed to break up his "day" from the maddening monotony. Chewing on a dry stalk of wheat, he closed his eyes.
The snap of a branch behind him was so loud in the deafening silence that he almost shouted in surprise.
He was up in quick fluid motion, claws out, mouth in a sneer. "Who's there?"
* * *
She didn't know how long she was there on the asphalt but she instinctively knew that quite a bit of time had passed. She had fallen asleep and woke up to find herself lying on the rocky ground. Groaning, she stood up on legs that tingled from the lack of circulation and glanced around.
No one. Nothing.
But what did she expect? Logan was gone. And she was left here to die.
"Fuck you!" she screamed at the nothing. "Fuck you to hell!"
Hot tears began welling in her eyes. The surrounding silence was claustrophobic, closing in on her, squeezing her into a panic. Her heart started to race. The world was too open. Too empty. Her terror rose as she realized that she was to be the nothing's next victim.
She took off running down the highway, tears streaming down her wrinkled cheeks.
* * *
An angry stitch gripped her side and her lungs burned from exhaustion. Jubilee stopped her run and bent over, hands on her knees, breathing in short gasps. She had only gone about a quarter of a mile. Already, she was done. She could go no farther. And the realization of it frightened her.
She used to be able to run a mile with ease. Her training as an X-Man ensured her the pinnacle of fitness and endurance. It was like the strength of her body was being sucked out little by little. She looked down at her hands. They were wrinkled with age spots spreading over them. Not the smooth porcelain hands she had when she first came here.
This was how she was going to die. Alone. In a strange world. Rapidly aging until she was nothing but dust. She had not the strength to try to catch up with Logan now.
Standing back up, ignoring the pain in her back, she glanced around. Thickets of dead brush and field. Dying trees standing like grotesque sentinels dotted the landscape. Everything here was dead or dying. But there was something else and it gave her hope. She saw what looked to be an old lake. Perhaps it had some water left in it. Saliva rushed into her mouth at the prospect.
She struggled through the dead brush, enduring scratches from the thorns. Blood beads glistened brightly in the sunlight. When she came up to it, her heart did a leap of joy. It was indeed an old lakebed and there was just a little bit of water left. She hurried as much as she could to the glorious puddle. There were tracks leading up to it and she thought of Logan. He too had found this waterhole.
The water was warm but foul. She coughed up the first swallow because of its nastiness. But her need was too great and she drunk again quickly. Her stomach clenched as she laid down beside the water. She closed her eyes in rest.
* * *
Time immeasurable passed. Her eyes fluttered open as a feeling of great unease crept over her. The hairs on the back of her neck rose from the undeniable sense of being watched. Slowly she rose to a sitting position. Her breath caught in her throat as she turned her head.
"Oh, thank God!" She sighed with relief. "You're really here."
A growl, low and menacing, was her only answer.
Jubilee's blood suddenly ran cold. His eyes. They were cold blue orbs with nothing but a bestial hunger in them. Any sign of his previous human intelligence and warmth was gone. Crouching near her, like a tiger ready to strike, he growled at her again.
Oh shit, she thought in her rising panic. Ohshitohshitohshit.
She took a small, hesitant step back. "Please stop. This isn't funny. What happened to you?"
He advanced slowly, no comprehension dawning. No recognition at all. She realized just how small she was compared to him. And how sharp his claws were.
Blast him! Her mind cried out. Blast him!
She held out her hands, heart beating like a wild drum, and fired her pyrotechnics.
Nothing but a faint sputter.
She cried out in horror, confused at her failure, as he snarled and leapt at her. Screaming, she tried to run but he easily overtook her. Hot rank breath flooded her senses and he bit down hard on her neck. Her scream died on her lips. Blood and pieces of gore flew as he took one set of claws and ripped her stomach open. Her hands scratched at him, trying vainly to fend him off. But he kept digging his teeth in deeper and deeper. Eating at her.
Her strength was failing. Her vision was failing. The world was turning gray. Logan, she tried to whisper but only bloody bubbles came forth.
The day finally turned into an endless black night.
* * *
There was only silence.
"Who's there?" Logan demanded again. A rustle came from the thick tangle of brush in front of him. "Jubilee?"
A very old woman, shriveled and starving, stumbled out. Her clothes were shredded almost indecently, covered in dried blood, and there were seeping scars all over her emaciated body. Like a wild animal had attacked her. Her voice was brittle when she spoke. "Help me please."
Logan approached her with caution, retracting his claws but still keeping primed for any possible attack. The woman took one step towards him and fell. Her cry split through his head like a dagger. He looked at her lying on the ground and winced. Several of her wounds had broken open and her hipbones stood out in strange angles. One was almost poking though her skin.
"Help me please." she whispered again. Her eyes were clouded with tears but he could see the desperation in them just the same. She was in an incredible amount of pain.
Logan turned from her for a moment, torn between emotions. Leave her. She's a good as dead, one part said. Another part disagreed. Put her out of her misery. As you would a wounded deer.
Fresh meat, the darker third whispered seductively. Food.
* * *
It took him seven more sleep cycles before he reached the crumbling town. The time till then had passed without incident. Jubilee had not come back, and he felt her absence more and more.
The highway that he followed was the main road to this small town. Two stoplights divided the intersections. Neither of them worked. There was no traffic to direct. Except him. The lonely traveler.
He studied the houses and buildings. All crumbling. All falling back to the earth to become dust. No movement anywhere. He walked on. The glint of hope in his heart was fading. This was where he thought the telepathic burst led him. Perhaps he was supposed to go beyond this place. Follow the highway to the edge of the world.
He stopped in the middle of the first intersection and looked down the other road. Another highway just like the one he followed stretched from one point of the horizon to the other. Was this the yellow brick road? Where was the path to Oz?
Any urgency he had to keep walking left him. This was the first place that wasn't field or brush and he allowed himself a curious look around. As he checked the first set of buildings, he stopped suddenly at the catch of a familiar scent. He followed it, coming to a small grocery that looked like it was more stable than the other buildings.
He paused at the front. The scent was much stronger here. Slowly he opened the door.
And was struck by plasma gunfire.
* * *
When he awoke, Logan felt himself lying on the floor with a large gun to his temple.
"The first shot was set to stun," Bishop said coldly. "This time I don't think even you can survive it."
Logan tried to move, but his body was still recovering from the harsh stun attack. Bishop held the gun harder against his skull. "Do you know who I am?"
Logan's eyes darted over to Bishop. The large man had definitely aged. His skin had taken on an ashy color and his facial hair was completely gray. His jowls were soft and drooping but his eyes were as hard as ever. "Yeah, Bishop. But I've seen you look better."
Bishop gave a small, joyless smile and retracted his gun. "Good to see you too, Logan."
He helped Logan sit up. "Sorry about the warm welcome, but I had to be sure."
"Sure of what?"
"That you were of sound mind."
"What makes you think that I'm not?"
Bishop just studied him for a moment. "I can see it in your eyes. There's something there, probably the beast inside of you that you've always struggled with. But I do see sanity."
Logan frowned unable to reply. Bishop stood up and waved for him to follow. They walked into the main part of the building. The shelves were empty and smashed. Some of them reduced to nothing but splinters. Logan wondered if Bishop had broken them. In frustration? Or did something else happen?
Blankets and a few cans of food were piled in the middle of the faded linoleum floor. Bishop offered him to sit down. "Anybody else with you?" Bishop asked, throwing him a can of old franks and beans.
Logan popped a single claw and tore an opening. He didn't look at Bishop when he replied. "Jubilee. But she didn't make it."
Bishop sighed. "You're the first person I've seen in.a long time. There's no way to tell is there? No days to count. But I know it's been a long time. Scott and Rogue left to search for survivors not long after we got here. Neither of them made it back yet. Jean, Hank, and I stayed back here."
"Was it Jean that sent that telepathic call?"
"Yes, but doing so messed with her mind. Her powers had started to malfunction. Short circuit. It was getting really bad because she started messing with our minds too. And Hank, he ended up." his voice trailed off almost in shame.
Logan felt his suspicion rising. "Hank did what?" he demanded.
Bishop bowed his head and pointed over to the corner. There was Jean, sitting limp against the wall, head lolling to the side. Logan ran over to her. "Jeanie!"
She made no movement except for the occasional blink of her unfocused eyes. Her face was pale and she too hadn't escaped the aging effects. Logan cradled her head in his hands. That was when he saw the angry, twisting scar. "He lobotomized her?" he yelled in fury. "Hank did this to her?"
"He only wanted to help," Bishop said softly. "But he had a hard time getting the courage to do it. And she struggled with him. Fought with him. When he saw that she was still alive after what he did, he fled. I haven't seen him since. I tried to help her best I could. She's all the company I had. I didn't want her to die."
"But look at her!"
"I did what I thought I had to."
* * *
Face it, she says, smiling. This is hell.
* * *
Bishop was staring at him with a thoughtful expression. "You have not aged at all since I last saw you," he said. "I suppose it's your healing factor."
Logan said nothing but ripped a piece of jerky, savoring the saltiness in his mouth.
"I heard you talking in your sleep," Bishop continued. "You said the name Rose several times."
"An old woman I met several days ago," Logan said slowly, disturbed by the mention of the name. "She found me in the fields. She said her name was Rose and that she was from some place I had never heard of before. A wild creature had attacked her but somehow she got away. A lot of good it did though. All she wanted was for me to help her. And I did. I stopped the pain for her."
Bishop raised his eyebrows in question but saw that Logan would say nothing else. A heavy silence weighed between them.
"Something happened when you were sleeping," Bishop said, changing the subject. "Come on out with me."
They walked out of the sanctuary that was the quaint grocery. As Logan stepped outside, he was dumbstruck by the view in front of him. What had once been the other half of the street, littered with gray dilapidated buildings, was now a lush patch of tropical forest. Bright green tree fronds stood out brilliantly from the dead landscape surrounding it. He heard the cawing of birds and rummaging of wildlife from within.
"How?" Logan asked.
"From a vortex like the one we encountered, I imagine. Hank had his theories about this place. Not long after we came here, another piece of land appeared off the horizon there." Logan followed to where Bishop was pointing. Far off in the distance was a patch of dying woods. But not completely dead like the surrounding area. There were still touches of green dotted within it.
"Hank believed this planet to be alive, specifically a single creature needing food. And these vortexes serve to nourish it. The planet sucks the life out anything living on it and then when nothing more can be drained from a place, the vortex opens and teleports in another patch of healthy land. At least that is what Hank thought."
"Was that before or after he snapped?" Logan's words were harsh.
Bishop sighed and chose to ignore the remark. "The only way out of this world would be to use the vortexes somehow. But there is no guarantee where we would end up or when. But to stay here would be a death sentence. At least for me. You, on the other hand, seem to be an endless supply of food. "
* * *
They searched the tropical oasis for any sign of human life but found no one. Logan could see that Bishop held a small bit of hope ever since he told him about Rose. As he searched, he found that he too had been hoping to find someone. Sifting through the lush greenery, he sensed nothing.
Except.
He turned around as he caught the slightest hint of a scent. It had an angry, rabid tinge to it. But it was so faint he could not say for sure what it was or where it was coming from. Still, he felt a cold chill. Someone, something was watching him.
"Perhaps there are others out there that could help us," Bishop said, stepping over the foliage to join Logan.
Logan remained still for a moment. The feeling of being watched was now gone. "Or not," he replied softly.
* * *
She is impaled on his claws. Adamatium dripping with her blood. Her eyes wide with pain and understanding. He watches as she dies.
* * *
Her eyes remained unfocused, staring into her lap. Holding her cold hands, he simply sat with her. He ignored the fact that her skin had taken a disquieting bluish tint. He ignored her lack of pulse.
Sometime during their last sleep cycle, Jean had died.
They were all leaving him, one by one. Jubilee. Jean. Soon it would be Bishop, if they didn't get out of this place, as his health was declining at a rapid pace. His weakness became more evident even by each passing hour and his movements were slower, jerkier. Twice he had slipped and spoke of the strangest things. Such as asking for peanut butter sandwiches.
Dementia. Logan wondered if it was contagious.
* * *
There was a ringing in his head. A sound that wouldn't go away. It made him furious with rage as he couldn't escape it. He howled. He slashed. He destroyed everything around him in a vain attempt to kill whatever had torn apart his sanity.
Th red had taken over. It saturated his mind like the blood of his prey saturated his fur.
The Beast was set free.
* * *
"We can't stay here."
"I know," Logan said. "But you aren't looking so good."
Bishop laughed. The laughter was harsh and led to violent coughing. When he could speak again, Bishop replied, "We have to go. There's something not right."
Logan nodded. "Something's watching us. Probably hunting us."
There was a pause of silence before Bishop said softly, "I don't think the others will ever make it back."
Logan said nothing as he watched the sadness consume the other man. The once tough-as-nails X.S.E. officer sat withered before him, losing his mind a small piece at a time. Facing death as his life was being eaten away. And now coming to face the likely death of his teammates. The rare bit of hope that Logan had seen in him when the tropical oasis first appeared was gone.
"Look," Logan said in a voice roughened by emotion. "It's up to us now. We've held out for the others long enough. It's time we start doing something instead of sitting here on our asses waiting for whatever the hell is out there."
"Before it's too late," Bishop whispered.
"Before it's too late."
* * *
They packed what little supplies were left. It was done mostly in silence that was only interrupted once. Bishop had tried to lift his plasma rifle only to find out that he no longer had the strength to carry it. He cried out in fury, let out a string of curses, and finally threw it to the ground.
Logan watched this display discreetly as he finished tying up his makeshift pack. He kept quiet until the other man cooled down. Then he went over and picked up the plasma rifle. It was heavy, but not too heavy that Logan would have problems carrying it. He slung the gun across his back using the strap. It was just another sign of Bishop's growing weakness. Logan wondered just how far Bishop could travel in his condition.
Would he end up sitting in the middle of the highway, declaring that he would not go any farther, just as Jubilee had?
"You ready?" Logan asked, pushing the thought away. Bishop gave a small nod. His eyes flicked to the gun on Logan's back, but he said nothing.
They left the building and began following the highway that Logan had came in on not so long ago. Two travelers now instead of one. Every now and then, Logan would look back to make sure that there wasn't an unwanted third traveler following them.
* * *
He watched them leave. He watched them as they set out down the highway. Predatory hunger burned in his eyes. They were now out in the open. Vulnerable. While the short stocky one would be a threat, the other one would be an easy kill.
He licked his lips in anticipation and set off on their trail.
* * * Bishop was able to go a lot farther than Logan thought. But towards the end the old man was struggling with every step. He didn't complain though. His pride alone kept him going.
It was Logan that called for the halt.
Bishop collapsed on the asphalt as Logan set their gear down. Logan handed the plasma rifle over to him. "Just in case."
Logan then set off into the wild countryside. His senses primed, he felt the predator within him come forward and take control. He ran low to the ground, quick and quiet, trying to catch a scent. He knew their situation would turn critical soon. They had eaten the last can of food before leaving. And wildlife was sparse in this world.
Fortunately, he caught the trail of a small bear. It was slow but not completely starved yet. He came upon it quickly, tackled it, and slammed his claws into its heart. The bear let out a dying grunt as Logan held it until it died. Already in a weakened state, it gave little struggle. Using his claws, Logan gutted him carefully and chiseled off pieces of meat that he wrapped in plastic to carry back.
When he returned to the highway, Logan saw that Bishop was struggling to stay awake. There was relief in the old man's eyes as he watched Logan approach with the bloodied plastic. "Care for a piece?" Logan asked.
"Only if it's cooked," Bishop said with a small smile. "I'm not eating it raw."
Logan smirked and threw down the kindling that he had picked up on the way back. Bishop arranged the small fire in the middle of the highway. With the landscape dead and dry, they had no doubt that the whole world would burst into flame if they let it get out of hand. Logan thought of this as he struck one of his last matches. He looked thoughtfully at the growing flames as they danced and snapped.
Set the world on fire.
* * *
He saw their fire burning off into the distance as he poked at the carcass of a dead bear. Not much meat left, but there was some. He dipped his head back into the flesh and continued feeding. It wouldn't be enough though.
The buzzing in his head increased, cutting off all thought. It was all about the hunger now. All about the taste of flesh. The girl he had at the waterhole wasn't enough. The broken dead woman that he found on the way to town wasn't enough. Neither was this dead bear.
He hungered for the flesh that currently sat around the small fire.
* * *
Logan kept watch as Bishop slept. The cold chill had returned and he could almost feel the eyes watching his every move. He packed the last of the cooked meat. The fire had died and he kicked apart the remains. Then he just stood there, surveying the landscape.
He hated the feeling of being the prey. Part of him wanted to end this strange standoff and hunt the hunter himself. But he wouldn't leave Bishop, vulnerable and weak. Instead he would just have to keep his guard until the hunter made his move.
* * *
Under the eternal sun, they walked. * * *
It took some convincing, but Bishop finally persuaded Logan to sleep for a bit when they stopped again. "I'll keep watch," Bishop said, propping the plasma rifle up into a comfortable position. "I may be old and lame, but I can still shoot."
Logan finally agreed but found that he had no troubles falling asleep. However, he was only able to rest a short time before intuition pulled him back to consciousness. A strange chill rippled through his body. Something was going to happen. The hunter was going to strike.
He didn't move, but only watched through narrowed eyes. Bishop's shoulders were slumping in fatigue. The man was going to fall asleep soon. He was going to say something but he stopped. That was when he caught it. His nostrils flared as the fevered scent overwhelmed him. It was raw. It was angry. And worse, it was familiar.
Logan saw a blur of bold blue from the corner of his eyes. He was on his feet in a ready stance, claws extended, when Bishop fired the rifle. The shot went slightly wide. He saw with sinking horror the snarling Beast in front of him.
"Oh my God," he heard Bishop say in horror. "Hank?"
Hank McCoy stood there large and imposing with his rough feline features drawn in a sneer. Saliva dripped from his twisted mouth. The once brilliant X-Man was nothing more now than a raging animal. Logan could no sign of the gentle doctor anywhere in Beast's eyes.
Beast flicked his gaze from Bishop to him back to Bishop. Realization dawned. "Hell, no," Logan growled. With a cry, he launched himself at Beast who then dodged Logan's attack with incredible agility. Logan somersaulted on the ground and was on his feet in an instant. But it was an instant too late.
Bishop fired the plasma rifle again but Beast was too quick. With a giant paw, he smacked the weapon away and grabbed for Bishop. Knifelike claws swept across his back as Bishop threw himself to the side and tumbled onto the highway's shoulder.
From behind, Logan charged and stabbed both claws into Beast's back. Beast roared in pain and tried to buck Logan from his back like a wild stallion would a rider. Logan was thrown to the ground.
"So this is the way it goes, huh, McCoy?" he said, picking himself back up. "And everyone was always worried about me going berserk. All along there was you who had the same predatory instincts and urges. You did nothing but denied they existed. I made peace with what I am. You never did, did you? Not the good doctor McCoy."
His words were not hateful but rather full of pity with a touch of sadness. He saw nothing but dumb hatred in return. No recognition. Not even a flicker. He knew looking back at Beast that Hank was too far-gone. Past the point that he always feared crossing. The Hank McCoy he knew was gone.
Logan kept his eyes locked with Beast as they stood at a tentative standoff. Both challenged the other to make the next move. From behind, Bishop picked himself slowly back up and limped to where the rifle had been thrown.
Take the shot, Bishop, Logan thought. Take it now.
And he did.
He fired twice. Both shots struck Beast in the back, knocking the large mutant to the ground. Beast howled with anger and pain. Logan ran over to the slumped form. With a quick swipe, Beast lashed out with his right hand and slashed at Logan. The claws raked across his stomach, digging deep. Logan doubled over and fell to the ground. "Finish him!" Logan shouted. "Do it now, damn it!"
Bishop stumbled over as Beast was preparing to strike Logan again. Blood ran down Bishop's back from the claw wounds, but he kept on. It took all his effort to raise the rifle again and he fired several more times, this time at the Beast's head. It exploded in a shower of blood and brains. The large blue body crumpled to the ground and remained still.
Bishop collapsed and let the gun clatter on the asphalt. "Please tell me," he said in a broken voice. "There was no other way, right? Please tell me there was no other way."
Logan crawled awkwardly, cradling his wounds that were slowly trying to close. He fell beside him on the highway and their blood mingled together in a glittering puddle. "No, Hank was gone. Hank was long gone."
* * *
Logan stood there with the last flickering match in his hand. "You sure?" he asked.
Bishop nodded wearily. The movement caused him to wince as the crude bandages on his back pulled. His wounds were serious but Logan had taken care of them while praying that the man still had strength left in him to heal. "The fire will consume everything. All that's alive or dead. The planet will have no choice but to teleport more nourishment in. We'll make the vortexes come to us now. How we'll use them when they come.I don't know yet."
"Hey, you're the time travelling one here. I'm counting on you to get us out."
Bishop gave a rusty laugh and then winced again. "Do it," he said hoarsely.
Logan let the match fall into a pile of dead brush. At first nothing happened. Then he saw the smoke grow thicker until the flames ignited with hunger.
"Come on," Bishop said. "Let's get a head of it while we can."
Logan watched as the fire began to spread. Then he turned his back to the fire and to the town way off in the blurry distance and to Jubilee lost somewhere in the nothing. He joined Bishop on the highway as the smoke billowed.
Set the world on fire.