To answer your question, Guin, this is set at roughly the same time as X2, before Xavier talks to the President, when mutant predjudice was in the Federal Government. I probably won't mention it too much, except in passing, because they won't meet the X-men till after the President... well, that would be giving things away.
Anyway, here's chapter 4. Read and review!
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Theo, whose real surname was Jenkins and who was really eighteen, leaned out the open window of the tractor-trailer's cab, as much to get away from the stink of greasy fast food wrappers and cigarette smoke as to keep himself awake. He didn't trust this particular trucker enough to sleep in his presense, though he seemed like a pretty decent fellow, albeit an unwashed chainsmoker.
He'd washed himself off in a gas station bathroom and changed clothes, knowing that he was more likely to get a ride if he looked at least halfways decent. He kept his hands in his pockets and avoided eye contact, and had suceeded in hitching a ride with the third trucker he'd asked. He had no clue where he was headed, but knew it was away from Philedelphia, which was what he wanted. He knew he was lucky that the social worker hadn't questioned him more closely, but it was only a matter of time before someone more attentive caught the lie, and it was best that he wasn't to be found when they did.
He had wanted to risk a call to his sister back in Jersey, but had gotten picked up before he could collect enough change to do so, and it was probably for the best. If his dad found out he was talking to Deanna, it was Dee who would pay for it.
Last time they'd talked, she had said Mom was secretly feeling sorry about making him leave, but he knew that he could never come back unless Dad capitulated, and that was pretty friggin' unlikely. He knew he had ceased to be a son the day his hands had changed. His eyes, with the enlarged pupil and strange color, could be explained away. Mom thought they were pretty. But when the four longest fingers on each of his hands had joined together into one scoop-like appendage, it was over. Theo was denounced as a freak, and as such could never go back home.
Never mind that with hands like that, he could dig tunnels- tunnels!- faster than humanly or mechanically possible, even in hard-packed clay. Never mind that he could see in complete darkness. He was a mutant, and mutants were bad. As evidence, he had in his pocket- he couldn't take it out right now or the trucker'd see his hands- a WANTED poster he'd snitched from a shelter's notice board. On it was a picture of a girl- she'd be pretty if she didn't scowl- wanted for 'suspected mutantcy.' And she looked relatively normal. If she could be arrested for mutantcy, then he sure could, and he'd heard about what the government did to mutants, innocent or not. He'd best keep the lowest profile possible.
It was nearly dark when the trucker stopped at a little town somewhere in Massachusetts, to sleep. Theo had already hopped out of the cab when the trucker called out to him. "There's an old quarry up that road a ways. Might be a good place to camp out for a while."
Theo broke into the first realy grateful smile he'd displayed in a while. "Hey, thanks, sir. I'll go see."
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Review.
Anyway, here's chapter 4. Read and review!
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Theo, whose real surname was Jenkins and who was really eighteen, leaned out the open window of the tractor-trailer's cab, as much to get away from the stink of greasy fast food wrappers and cigarette smoke as to keep himself awake. He didn't trust this particular trucker enough to sleep in his presense, though he seemed like a pretty decent fellow, albeit an unwashed chainsmoker.
He'd washed himself off in a gas station bathroom and changed clothes, knowing that he was more likely to get a ride if he looked at least halfways decent. He kept his hands in his pockets and avoided eye contact, and had suceeded in hitching a ride with the third trucker he'd asked. He had no clue where he was headed, but knew it was away from Philedelphia, which was what he wanted. He knew he was lucky that the social worker hadn't questioned him more closely, but it was only a matter of time before someone more attentive caught the lie, and it was best that he wasn't to be found when they did.
He had wanted to risk a call to his sister back in Jersey, but had gotten picked up before he could collect enough change to do so, and it was probably for the best. If his dad found out he was talking to Deanna, it was Dee who would pay for it.
Last time they'd talked, she had said Mom was secretly feeling sorry about making him leave, but he knew that he could never come back unless Dad capitulated, and that was pretty friggin' unlikely. He knew he had ceased to be a son the day his hands had changed. His eyes, with the enlarged pupil and strange color, could be explained away. Mom thought they were pretty. But when the four longest fingers on each of his hands had joined together into one scoop-like appendage, it was over. Theo was denounced as a freak, and as such could never go back home.
Never mind that with hands like that, he could dig tunnels- tunnels!- faster than humanly or mechanically possible, even in hard-packed clay. Never mind that he could see in complete darkness. He was a mutant, and mutants were bad. As evidence, he had in his pocket- he couldn't take it out right now or the trucker'd see his hands- a WANTED poster he'd snitched from a shelter's notice board. On it was a picture of a girl- she'd be pretty if she didn't scowl- wanted for 'suspected mutantcy.' And she looked relatively normal. If she could be arrested for mutantcy, then he sure could, and he'd heard about what the government did to mutants, innocent or not. He'd best keep the lowest profile possible.
It was nearly dark when the trucker stopped at a little town somewhere in Massachusetts, to sleep. Theo had already hopped out of the cab when the trucker called out to him. "There's an old quarry up that road a ways. Might be a good place to camp out for a while."
Theo broke into the first realy grateful smile he'd displayed in a while. "Hey, thanks, sir. I'll go see."
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Review.