*******************
Fourth Fragment ~ 'Fools and Children'
*******************
Pietro looked up as the glass door slid open. "Hey, Robyn," he greeted the little cat-girl.
Robyn smiled, clutching onto Kurti's hand and scuffing her claws. "Hey, Pie-Pie. You feeling better?"
The albino nodded, then cocked his head to one side. "What're you wearing?"
At once, Robyn beamed, twirling as best she could while still holding fast to Kurti. "It's that new dress you brought me. Like it?"
"Love it. Suits you."
Lance crossed the sterile room and made as if to dump the heavy cardboard box on the waiting couch next to Kitty. However, he was halted mid-action by a blur of silver and someone catching his arm.
"Don't do that! They're asleep!"
The elder boy looked at new mother and child dubiously. "How can you tell? She's still holding the baby."
Pietro frowned. "Listen."
Lance did, and presently the sound of dulcet snoring came to his ears, matching the rhythm of Kitty's rising and falling chest. He blushed, conscious of his mistake in front of their new companions, and hiding it by waggling the box and asking; "So what should I do with this, then?"
Kurt deposited Robyn with the long-abandoned children's toys doctors' always have, sitting her down with a quiet puzzle, and padded over to the reception area.
"Here," he said, quickly clearing a space amongst all the cobwebby files and old phones disconnected from their sockets.
Lance grunted with exertion as he dumped the stuff, dragging a filthy hand across his forehead to remove the sweat gathered there. He turned around, and abruptly stifled a cry. "Hey, what's she doing?"
Both Kurt and Pietro looked to where Robyn, disregarding the puzzles, had crawled to the slumbering Kitty's side, and was now sniffing tentatively at baby Hope. Her hands rested on the side of the leather couch, claws retracted, and on her face was an expression of intense concentration as her pink nose worked furiously.
She startled as the three youths came towards her, dropping from her perch and scuttling backwards on all fours.
"Wasn't doin' nuthin'," she mumbled hastily.
Kurt dropped into a crouch beside the five-year-old and reached out to stroke her hair. "We know, poppet. It's all right. That's Kitty, but she's very tired. She's had a very busy day."
Robyn twitched her snout. "Kitty's all pink and wrinkly."
Kurt's fangs showed a little as he smiled. "Nein, liebchen. That's Baby Hope. Kitty is the lady."
"Oh." Robyn sat for a moment, then reached up with one clawed foot to scratch behind her left ear. Lance and Pietro both looked on in amazement that she could even bend that way, but neither girl nor elf paid them any heed. Instead, Robyn turned mournful brown eyes to her 'brother', and asked innocently; "Kurti, what's a baby? Did you find it? Where did it come from?"
Pietro uttered a muffled "snerk!" behind his hand.
Kurt rocked back on his haunches for a moment, face thoughtful. "A baby," he said at last, "Is a tiny, brand new person. You were only a baby when I found you, liebling."
"I thought you said you found me when I was just small?" Robyn said, confusion showing plainly on her furry face.
"Ja, you were small because you were a baby."
"Oh. Was I all pink and wrinkly too, like baby Hope?"
"Nein, you had lovely soft brown fur, the colour of sunlight."
"Oh," Robyn looked at the floor. "Was that because I'm a mutant?"
Kurt drew her close into a warm hug, which she returned rather bemusedly after a moment. The elf's expression was slightly sad, but he was still smiling, which made for an odd facial combination.
"Jawohl, Robyn," he said simply. "Jawohl."
*******************
"Loganloganloganloganloganlogan!"
Logan blanched, and caught the flying bundle as it careered towards him. "Whoa, hold up there, short-stuff. Whassamatter?"
Daisy looked up at him, reptilian eyes as wide as they could go. "I found another one!"
"Another what?"
"Another *sign*!" She dropped from his arms and grabbed his hand, dragging him towards the empty building by the side of the desolate road. "Lookit! Lookit!"
Logan did indeed 'lookit'. And then he looked again, reading the words daubed across the wall in flaking black paint. He said nothing, but Daisy happily sounded them out for him.
"The God-dess will hee-aaal the wer... wer..."
"World," Logan supplied. "The Goddess will heal the world." There was something screwy about this. That made four signs they'd found in this berg alone, all of them referring to some mysterious 'Goddess'.
Daisy turned shining eyes upon him. "Didn't I do good, finding it?" she asked, suddenly wondering by the look on his face whether she should've told him about her discovery.
Logan started, broken from his reverie. "You did plenty good, Daisy," he replied, ruffling her hair. In return, she clung to his leg - the only part of him she could reach - and hugged him tight.
"Good. I only wanna do good for you, Logan, 'cause you're my Fairy Godfather." Despite his negations, it was a refrain she'd picked up on, and refused to let go. Not that he really minded. It was nice to have a nickname that wasn't 'mutie scum'. Reminded him of the old days. Before it all went bad.
"Come on, Daisy. Let's get movin' an' find somewhere to sleep for the night. Or what's left of it, anyway."
"Okie-dokie," she sang, skipping after him and waving her long, thick tail in the air.
*******************
Kätzchen and baby Hope were still asleep. Outside, the world was dark as pitch.
Lance cooked something soup-esque on a portable stove and Pietro zipped between windows, looking out.
"Hunters, Kurti," said Robyn.
"Ja. I can hear them."
Lance began to fret that Hope would fuss or cry, but so far, the infant slept secure in her borrowed crib. Robyn could tell by the way he looked over at the two every handful of seconds.
Light flaring at the window made them all duck. Pietro zipped out of the way of the light so he could look.
"Eh, the fearsome fivesome," he cooed under his breath. "Shemp, Larry, Moe, Curly and Bubba."
"You know them?" Lance hissed.
"Avoided them a coupla dozen times. Maybe a coupla dozen dozen. They have a pig farm to the southeast of the old high school. Feed the pigs on the old cafeteria stuff. And leftover pigs. Amongst other things."
"Oh," said Kurti. "Them. We met raiding the same market, once. I lead them a wild chase and then 'liberated' half their stuff," he grinned at the memory. "They're hardly a threat at all."
"Tenacious, though," said Pietro. "Lord knows what'll happen if they find someone to breed with."
Kurti snorted.
"What's breed mean?" whispered Robyn.
Lance went pink. "That's making babies," he hissed. "You'll get the finer details, later."
"Can't they make babies on their own?" she insisted. "Bubba looks fat enough."
Pietro sniggered.
"It's something men and women do," said Kurti. "You need both, or there's no babies."
Robyn thought about that. It seemed logical. "So I had a Mom and Dad?"
"Ja," said Kurti. "You had to. But... they weren't with you." Kurti had a sad moment, staring at nothing.
Baby Hope whimpered and sniffled. Lance made to get up, but Kurti held him down. "Wait."
Outside, another flash scoured the area. "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty," said Bubba. "Here, kitty."
"Yeah, we could use some stew," cackled Shemp.
Kurti held up a hand.
"Dang thing musta run off," said Moe. "Stoopid cats. Aughta skin 'em all."
The flashlights went away.
"Babies sometimes whimper or murmur in their sleep," Kurti explained. "She probably won't wake up for another hour or so."
"Thanks for telling *me*," murmured Lance. "I almost ate my *heart* back there."
"There wasn't time," said Kurti. "The pig brothers are stupid, but their ears make up for their lack of brains."
"They got the biggest ears ever," said Robyn. "They can hear a cat at fifty paces." And, considering how wily the local cat populations were, that was some pretty sharp hearing.
"Lance?" Kätzchen murmured. "Izzat dinner?"
"Yeah. Don't get up," he cautioned. "You need to rest for a while."
"Don't worry," she said. "I don't wanna move." Tentative, she felt around her. "Hope. Where's - "
"She's in a crib nearby," assured Lance. "She's asleep." Now he got up, and guided her hand to the crib, and the pink little human within. "See? She's okay."
Hope murmured a little. One hand had escaped her swaddling.
"Still asleep?" Kätzchen asked.
"Yeah. I'll dish you up some dinner. I remember reading somewhere that you had to let 'em cry a while. But - considering the sitch - they might not be very good."
"Mutie-hunters," said Kurti. "So far, we've seen the pig brothers; but there's still the Vanguard and the Chains."
"They mostly fight each other, though," said Pietro. "They don't often go here. There's nothing they need."
Lance handed Kitty a bowl and a spork. She ate with quick efficiency.
Then the unthinkable happened.
A madman entered the scene. Robyn could tell by the distant singing.
"Loooooooove. Changes all. Love cha-anges all... I never knew it would eeeeever co-o-ome... Love changes all--"
Bubba sprang into action, leaping from the shadows and sending a load of shot over the newcomer's head.
Robyn peeked out the window. There was a lit wagon full of green things. And a man in a dress with a funny hat.
"Gott im Himmel," whispered Kurti.
She felt inclined to agree.
"Sounds like your kinda guy," Lance muttered, nodding at Pietro. The albino whipped around, glaring.
"Hardly," he said. "That guy's not only nuts, he's crazy! Walking into the middle of the street making that much noise?"
"They wouldn't... shoot him, would they?" Kitty asked nervously. "I mean, he could just be a human, like them. Not mutant at all."
"Kätzchen, the pig brothers don't care what they're shooting at, as long as it's edible," Kurt whispered forebodingly, eyes fixed out of the window. "Why do you think there are so few survivors around here?"
Behind her glasses, Kitty's sightless eyes widened in horror, and her grasp tightened on the side of Hope's crib.
"Good God," Lance cursed. "What kind of a place *is* this?!"
Nobody answered his question, but Pietro's voice cut through the gloom like a knife. "What the hell - the guy's going up to them! He's spreading his arms, like he wants to *hug* them, or something."
"Or something," Kurt muttered. "Shhh, I'm trying to hear what they're saying."
Silence settled on the little group for a moment, and both Kurt and Robyn strained their extra-sensitive hearing trying to pick up the words spoken outside. A faint burble filtered through into their makeshift haven, though the six men outside were too quiet for most to hear properly. The assembled mutants looked expectantly at elf and cat-girl alike, watching and waiting.
Finally; "What does 'salvation' mean?"
"It means being saved, or rescued," Lance replied when nobody else did.
"Oh," said Robyn. Then; "So what's a 'Goddess'?"
"Huh?"
"Well, the man in the funny hat said; 'the Goddess will bring salvation to this land', but I dunno what he means. Do you?"
Lance blinked. "Uh... I...."
"Scheisse!" hissed Kurt suddenly, cutting off all further conversation. His curse was closely followed by the sound of gunshot from outside, and a cry.
"What happened? What happened?" Robyn whimpered, trying to get to the window. Kurt pushed her away again, forcing her to crouch low on the floor where she wouldn't see.
"They shot him. In the leg. Guy's gone down like a sack of potatoes!"
Pietro dropped near them, switching to survival mode in an instant. "Dead?"
Kurt shook his head. "No, wounded. Won't last long against those thugs, though. He can't move, and from what I can tell, he carries no weapons, just... *plants*. They're moving in on him right now." The elf turned to his pale companion. "I'm going after him."
"What?" Lance was incredulous, but wily enough to keep his voice low. "But the guy's a nutso!"
"He's harmless. A religious fool, from what I saw. Preacher of some kind. He doesn't deserve their 'tender mercy'."
"What about us?"
"I'll lead the Pig Brothers away, you get the plant guy to safety. He's a human being, Lance Alvers," Kurt's golden eyes flashed in the murk, "And where I come from, *every* life is precious."
He made as if to get up, but Robyn grabbed his wrist. "Kurti, no!" she pleaded. "Please don't go! I'm scared!"
"I have to," Kurt said firmly, prising her grasp away. "Stay here with Pie-Pie, liebchen. Remember the rules. Whatever you do, *don't* go outside!" And with that, he darted away, out the disused back door of the surgery, and skirted around the side of the building so that the Pig Brothers wouldn't be able to tell from which direction he'd come.
Lance opened and shut his mouth like a fish, devoid of anything useful to say. "Shit!"
*******************
The Pig Brothers weren't exactly a clever bunch. But they were savage, and each was a crack-shot - which more than made up for their lack of smarts in this new world they found themselves in.
Anybody even slightly cultured probably would've likened them to the characters in 'Lord of The Flies' at that moment, especially given their porcine orientated background. They crowded in on the robed newcomer, leering madly and preparing for a little sport with him.
For his part, the man only stared blankly, before looking at the hole in his gown and blood seeping slowly through it. He didn't shout out in pain, nor cuss them as a normal person would. Instead, he simply seemed unable to understand their actions, and kept looking between the five brothers and his wound incredulously.
Curly stepped forward. As the eldest sibling, he had invariably become their leader in these dark times, and he pointed the barrel of 'Old Greta' as he called his shotgun, under the man's chin.
Confused blue eyes stared back at him from beneath the hat's wide brim. "Have you no faith in the Goddess?"
"Whut Goddess?" asked Bubba from behind them.
"She who will reign deliverance down upon us all, should we tend the seeds of mercy, as she so decreed."
Curly hucked a gob and spat it onto the ground in contempt. "Whut you be talkin' 'bout, stranger?"
But the stranger said no more.
*******************
_If God protects fools and children,_ Kurt thought, _I must qualify for both. Hey, Boss. I need an extra contingent of Guardian Angels, right here. For him and me, both. Deliver us safely from the Pig Brothers and their ilk._ Then he launched himself off the roof, straight towards Curly, howling like a demon fresh from Hell.
The pig brothers reacted predictably - shooting first and asking questions later - though their aim was off owing to adrenaline. He landed on Curly and made quick use of his sharp nails to tear the Pig Brothers clothes and scratch skin. He *could* have killed the man with a quick poke to the jugular, but Kurt much preferred to give each soul a solid chance for repentance.
That, and he'd seen what the Pig Brothers did when they were upset about something. The gang that had come to Bayville and shot their best sow was still creatively strung up on the side of a building somewhere, as far as he knew.
The Pig Brothers may not have been smart, but they were definitely ingenious when it came to alternate uses for bailing wire.
Kurt launched off of Curly and gave Bubba something to think about, and nicked the other three on general principals before haring off at all possible speed towards the old industrial district. He still bayed madly, though, so that the Pig Brothers would have something to follow.
Which they did.
_I'll give the others a quarter of an hour,_ he thought. _That ought to be plenty of time._
*******************
The madman in the khaftan was trying to move the barrow. In a past life, it had been the sort of thing hotdogs were sold out of. Only now the trays held fruit seedlings and flowers and dirt and other things Pietro had thought were extinct.
"Easy, now, hombre," he soothed. "You don't want to bleed to death, now, do you?"
"If I do, I will nourish the Earth and my soul will fly to the Goddess," muttered the zealot. "But I must protect her bounty. Must save the fruits of her labours..."
Lance finally arrived and held him down. "Nothing's gonna get saved if you don't sit still." He improvised a tourniquet out of the Khaftan's hem and bound the wound. Quick, practised movements, Pietro noticed. But then, he'd evolved the same sorts of skills. Even *buckshot* could hit a quick target at a wide enough scatter pattern.
Pietro inspected the wagon. Nothing seemed to be hurt. "Don't worry, pal," he said. "The fruits of your Goddess are going to a nice safe place. And so are you." He was careful, but he was still fast, and had the cart safely hidden inside the hospital room with Kitty and the kids, then he was out again to assist Lance.
"This place," said Lance, "Is seriously fucked up."
"Yup," Pietro agreed. "That sort of thing happens all the time in Ground Zero. Fucked up fuck-uppishness. *All* over the place."
Lance boggled at him. "This is *Bayville*? Where it all started? Holy *fuck*..."
"...less blasphemy, please?" said the Zealot. "My Goddess won't want to hear foul words when I report to her."
"You aren't going to die," said Lance, hauling him towards the back doors. "You're in luck. There's a doctor's surgery here. If all goes well, we can even get the bullet outta ya."
"Yeah," agreed Pietro. "It's just a flesh wound. Heck, we could probably even make sure you don't get a limp."
"...you don't unnerst'nd..." mumbled the Zealot. And then he passed out.
*******************
Robyn boggled. "*More* people..." she whispered, explaining things to Kätzchen. "It's the man in the dress who came with the cart. He's bleeding from his leg and he's sleeping."
"I boarded up the doors again," said Pietro. "Our man Friday's in shock, I think. It'll be easier for us to patch 'im up while he's out."
"Looks like twenty-two," said Lance. "Only one bullet, and only a hassle if it hit anything major."
"Doesn't look it," said Pietro. They put the man on the floor.
In all the confusion, the fighting and carrying and whatnot, he still had his hat on. It was a conical thing, apparently made of dried reeds. Robyn took it off him, examining his face.
The man was - ordinaryish. He had curly hair and more than a hint of a beard. It was prickly and rough, not soft and smooth like Kurti's face. The curls fascinated her. Robyn had never seen springy hair up close, before. The way it kept moving back into shape was fascinating.
"*Kid*... outta the way, willya?" Lance and Pie-Pie had found a bed on wheels and some lamps and some tools.
Robyn skittered out of the way, still clinging tight to the hat. It had a name inside it.
"Al-vinn... Sk-sk-skeithe... Be-loved of the Goddess," she read.
Had Alvin Skeithe fallen to the Pig Brothers, he wouldn't have even been buried with his name. He'd have been buried in a pig[1].
Pietro aimed lamps while Lance fished out the bullet and washed and sewed. Then they both wrapped the wound.
Pietro handed Robyn a bowl of soup; then gave one to Lance before he took anything for himself.
Robyn took up a post by the window, watching the night outside and waiting for Kurti. "I hope he comes back," she whispered.
Baby Hope woke up at last, protesting against the unfairness of an empty tummy and, judging by the smell, a full diaper.
Robyn let Lance and Pietro fuss over Kätzchen and Baby Hope. She was worried about Kurti. If he didn't come back, then everything she knew would vanish. She'd be in the company of strangers and a time of peril. Kurti *had* to come back. It was the way of the world.
But even Robyn knew that the world was a dangerous place.
Alvin Skeithe had proved it.
*******************
_Scheisse!_
Kurt pattered through the deserted streets, four-footer style. This way, he could at least put some distance between himself and the Pig Brothers without losing them completely.
A shot rang out as he rounded a bend, and he heard the haphazard 'ratatatatatatat' of buckshot striking and bouncing off a brick wall, closely followed by a yell of frustration from Moe at having missed *again*.
Kurt smiled grimly to himself. That was the fourth time they'd tried for him and missed. Each time had been a near thing, but it gave him a sort of sick satisfaction to put another stone in their proverbial shoe. He darted up a wall, running sideways along it above face level.
{THUNDERTHUNDERTHUNDERTHUNDER}
"There 'ee is!" shouted someone who sounded distinctly like Shemp, the youngest pig boy. More shots were fired, but Kurt leapt clear, twirling artistically and calling on his acrobatic history to land at a run and keep on going.
"Y'missed!" shouted Curly, and the sound of a slap echoed along the street. "Lemme get a shot in at 'im! That durn critter's got away frum us too many tahms as 'tis."
_More times than you even know,_ the elf quipped silently, thinking of all those occasions when he'd spotted them and clung high to walls while they passed by, unmindful of his presence.
His breath was coming in short, sharp gasps now, and the telltale signs of stitch began to twinge in his side. _Not now!_ he ordered it, dodging left down a small alleyway that would've been a dead end for anybody else because of the tall wire mesh fence strung across the way.
His impeccable sense of timing told him approximately ten minutes had passed since this merry chase began. Not yet time to go back, but much longer than he was used to exerting himself of late. All those times he'd given up his food to Robyn began to make themselves known as his muscles protested at having no fuel, and his lungs started to burn.
_I *said*, not now! Can't afford to flag. Have to keep going._
He shimmied up the fence as if he were running on flat ground, fingers and toes finding holds expertly in the hooked metal. His tail, too, provided a useful levering tool, and the spaded tip hauled the rest of him up as his limbs grew heavy and began to drag.
Too fast, too fast, a part of his mind whispered. Not enough energy for this much exercise. Too much, too fast.
But if Kurt was anything, he was stubborn, and gamely clambered upwards, squirrel-like.
However, when black spots invaded his vision, things became just that little bit more difficult. For once in his life, Kurt's famous grip failed, and he missed a handhold long enough to lose his balance and tumble backward off the netting. Throwing out his other hand, tridactyl fingers laced through the wire, snagging a hold and securing his place above the ground.
But luck didn't stay with him long, as Kurt found out to his cost.
"Got 'im!" exalted a voice, and a blast rent the air.
Kurt tried to swing himself out of the way, and *did* manage to save himself from any serious injury. Stinging pain erupted from his backside, however, as the buckshot either glanced off or buried itself in his flesh. Thanks to his fur, it didn't go very far past the skin, but hurt like hell. He was wincing visibly as he dived over the top and scurried away down the passage.
Glaring up into the dust-ridden sky, Kurt shouted; "You and I have gotta have a *serious* talk later, Boss!"
Thirteen minutes gone. Just a few more to go. _Better give the others an extra five, just to make sure._
Kurt paused in a doorway, taking advantage of the distance he'd gained to inspect his wounds. His backside was like Swiss Cheese, and thin slivers of red could be seen here and there through the back of his clothes. There was nothing too major, but the aesthetic hurts were bad enough. He had enough trouble sitting down without *this* kind of thing added to the mix as well.
A shout some way off signalled that the more agile of the Pig Brothers had followed his lead and scaled the fence, and Kurt sighed. Bubba would no doubt still be on the other side, jumping up and down like an idiot, like he did every time Kurt led them down those fenced alleys. _You'd think they'd have learned by now,_ he mused wryly, and padded to crouch in the middle of the street where they could see, but not shoot at him - well, at least not hit him, anyway.
He'd gone no more than a few feet when something hard cracked him from behind. Stars exploded inside his skull, and with a muffled "Unk!" Kurt's nose hit concrete.
"Stinkin' mutie!" snarled a voice, and Kurt looked blearily up from the dust to see Moe glaring down at him, gun cocked and at the ready.
The tap-tap-tapping of footsteps heralded the arrival of the other Pig Brothers, and Kurt listened, only half being able to actually see anything, as they encircled his prone form. His tail flopped lazily, like a worm caught in a dry patch and he rubbed at the back of his head where Moe had caught him.
Bubba grinned, jowls wobbling as he brandished the wire cutters previously tucked into his belt. He was the only one of them without a gun in hand, but the rifle was still slung over one shoulder, close to hand should he also decide to take a pot shot.
Curly stepped forward once more. The situation was exactly the same as earlier, save for the change in victim from a bemused zealot with a leg wound, to a dazed elf with a sore bottom. Old Greta snapped to the ready, and the eldest brother squeezed one eye shut as he aimed down the barrel.
For the briefest of moments, Kurt considered teleporting, but almost immediately realised it was impossible. His body felt almost numb, weak and drained by hunger and physical exertion. He could barely move, and his vision was blurry already. If he tried to 'port, no doubt the consequences would be disastrous.
Old Greta poked into his face, dark circles to his fuzzy sight.
_Uh-oh._
*******************
"He's late," Robyn whimpered. "He's never late."
"Hhhsssshhh," Lance soothed. "It's okay. He's probably on his way back right now."
Alvin stirred on his bed. "...ooowwww..."
Pie-pie made to serve another bowl of soup.
"Please?" Robyn begged, stopping him. "Leave some for Kurti?"
"*Ow*!" said the Zealot. "Oh, Goddess... such trials you send the faithful..."
"Don't move," said Pietro. "You've got a hole in your leg. Better not make it angry."
"The plants! My Goddess' plants? Are they--?"
"They're fine," said Robyn. "But Kurti isn't back yet."
"You mean the blessed one who saved me?" said Alvin. "The one sent by the Divine?"
"His name's Kurt," said Pietro. "He lead the Pig Brothers off and he said he'd be fifteen minutes and it's been almost half an hour."
"Kurti's never late," said Robyn.
Alvin appeared to notice her for the first time. He gasped and viewed her in awe. "A child of the blessed ones." He smiled, tears gathering in his eyes. "I never thought I'd see one so close... May I - touch you?"
This guy was *strange*... "I don't wanna leave the window," she said. "Kurti might come back."
"I'll pray for him," said Alvin. "The Goddess will provide." He clutched at a symbol at his neck. An X inside a circle.
Robyn froze. There was a place she and Kurti went, sometimes, when the Pig Brothers and the Vanguards and the Chains were off fighting their turf wars. It was a quiet place in amongst a ruined forest, marked by three crosses, and that symbol.
"Professor Xavier," Robyn whispered. "You're wearing a li'l wheel like the Professor had when he was alive."
If the Zealot's face could have opened any further, it would have burst. "You - you know of the Great Teacher? The one who bought together the Blessed in the Dream of Peace?"
"...um..." said Robyn, inching a little away. "Maybe not like *that*... Kurti told me about him is all."
"This guy's *nu-uts*..." Pietro sang under his breath.
Alvin was struggling to get up. "If your Kurt is a student of the Great Teacher," he panted, stopping to clutch at his wound, "Then it's my holy duty to save him! All the students of the Great Teacher must be found! Found alive! For the Goddess' comfort and peace! She lost her family to the Plague and the wars, but she will not lose the students! We must--ARGH!"
Pietro caught him on the way down. "Easy, there nutso," he soothed. "You aren't going nowhere right now. Goddess or not, you need to rest up a bit."
"But I left a Blessed Student in the hands of the Tainted," Alvin protested. "My beloved Goddess would never forgive me if I allowed him to perish. And after he risked his life for *me*, a mere missionary..."
Lance looked at Pietro. Pietro looked back.
"We are *so* frikkin' screwed," Lance sighed.
*******************
To Be Continued...
*******************
[1] That is, fed to it. In a post-apocalyptic world, one does not waste protein.
Fourth Fragment ~ 'Fools and Children'
*******************
Pietro looked up as the glass door slid open. "Hey, Robyn," he greeted the little cat-girl.
Robyn smiled, clutching onto Kurti's hand and scuffing her claws. "Hey, Pie-Pie. You feeling better?"
The albino nodded, then cocked his head to one side. "What're you wearing?"
At once, Robyn beamed, twirling as best she could while still holding fast to Kurti. "It's that new dress you brought me. Like it?"
"Love it. Suits you."
Lance crossed the sterile room and made as if to dump the heavy cardboard box on the waiting couch next to Kitty. However, he was halted mid-action by a blur of silver and someone catching his arm.
"Don't do that! They're asleep!"
The elder boy looked at new mother and child dubiously. "How can you tell? She's still holding the baby."
Pietro frowned. "Listen."
Lance did, and presently the sound of dulcet snoring came to his ears, matching the rhythm of Kitty's rising and falling chest. He blushed, conscious of his mistake in front of their new companions, and hiding it by waggling the box and asking; "So what should I do with this, then?"
Kurt deposited Robyn with the long-abandoned children's toys doctors' always have, sitting her down with a quiet puzzle, and padded over to the reception area.
"Here," he said, quickly clearing a space amongst all the cobwebby files and old phones disconnected from their sockets.
Lance grunted with exertion as he dumped the stuff, dragging a filthy hand across his forehead to remove the sweat gathered there. He turned around, and abruptly stifled a cry. "Hey, what's she doing?"
Both Kurt and Pietro looked to where Robyn, disregarding the puzzles, had crawled to the slumbering Kitty's side, and was now sniffing tentatively at baby Hope. Her hands rested on the side of the leather couch, claws retracted, and on her face was an expression of intense concentration as her pink nose worked furiously.
She startled as the three youths came towards her, dropping from her perch and scuttling backwards on all fours.
"Wasn't doin' nuthin'," she mumbled hastily.
Kurt dropped into a crouch beside the five-year-old and reached out to stroke her hair. "We know, poppet. It's all right. That's Kitty, but she's very tired. She's had a very busy day."
Robyn twitched her snout. "Kitty's all pink and wrinkly."
Kurt's fangs showed a little as he smiled. "Nein, liebchen. That's Baby Hope. Kitty is the lady."
"Oh." Robyn sat for a moment, then reached up with one clawed foot to scratch behind her left ear. Lance and Pietro both looked on in amazement that she could even bend that way, but neither girl nor elf paid them any heed. Instead, Robyn turned mournful brown eyes to her 'brother', and asked innocently; "Kurti, what's a baby? Did you find it? Where did it come from?"
Pietro uttered a muffled "snerk!" behind his hand.
Kurt rocked back on his haunches for a moment, face thoughtful. "A baby," he said at last, "Is a tiny, brand new person. You were only a baby when I found you, liebling."
"I thought you said you found me when I was just small?" Robyn said, confusion showing plainly on her furry face.
"Ja, you were small because you were a baby."
"Oh. Was I all pink and wrinkly too, like baby Hope?"
"Nein, you had lovely soft brown fur, the colour of sunlight."
"Oh," Robyn looked at the floor. "Was that because I'm a mutant?"
Kurt drew her close into a warm hug, which she returned rather bemusedly after a moment. The elf's expression was slightly sad, but he was still smiling, which made for an odd facial combination.
"Jawohl, Robyn," he said simply. "Jawohl."
*******************
"Loganloganloganloganloganlogan!"
Logan blanched, and caught the flying bundle as it careered towards him. "Whoa, hold up there, short-stuff. Whassamatter?"
Daisy looked up at him, reptilian eyes as wide as they could go. "I found another one!"
"Another what?"
"Another *sign*!" She dropped from his arms and grabbed his hand, dragging him towards the empty building by the side of the desolate road. "Lookit! Lookit!"
Logan did indeed 'lookit'. And then he looked again, reading the words daubed across the wall in flaking black paint. He said nothing, but Daisy happily sounded them out for him.
"The God-dess will hee-aaal the wer... wer..."
"World," Logan supplied. "The Goddess will heal the world." There was something screwy about this. That made four signs they'd found in this berg alone, all of them referring to some mysterious 'Goddess'.
Daisy turned shining eyes upon him. "Didn't I do good, finding it?" she asked, suddenly wondering by the look on his face whether she should've told him about her discovery.
Logan started, broken from his reverie. "You did plenty good, Daisy," he replied, ruffling her hair. In return, she clung to his leg - the only part of him she could reach - and hugged him tight.
"Good. I only wanna do good for you, Logan, 'cause you're my Fairy Godfather." Despite his negations, it was a refrain she'd picked up on, and refused to let go. Not that he really minded. It was nice to have a nickname that wasn't 'mutie scum'. Reminded him of the old days. Before it all went bad.
"Come on, Daisy. Let's get movin' an' find somewhere to sleep for the night. Or what's left of it, anyway."
"Okie-dokie," she sang, skipping after him and waving her long, thick tail in the air.
*******************
Kätzchen and baby Hope were still asleep. Outside, the world was dark as pitch.
Lance cooked something soup-esque on a portable stove and Pietro zipped between windows, looking out.
"Hunters, Kurti," said Robyn.
"Ja. I can hear them."
Lance began to fret that Hope would fuss or cry, but so far, the infant slept secure in her borrowed crib. Robyn could tell by the way he looked over at the two every handful of seconds.
Light flaring at the window made them all duck. Pietro zipped out of the way of the light so he could look.
"Eh, the fearsome fivesome," he cooed under his breath. "Shemp, Larry, Moe, Curly and Bubba."
"You know them?" Lance hissed.
"Avoided them a coupla dozen times. Maybe a coupla dozen dozen. They have a pig farm to the southeast of the old high school. Feed the pigs on the old cafeteria stuff. And leftover pigs. Amongst other things."
"Oh," said Kurti. "Them. We met raiding the same market, once. I lead them a wild chase and then 'liberated' half their stuff," he grinned at the memory. "They're hardly a threat at all."
"Tenacious, though," said Pietro. "Lord knows what'll happen if they find someone to breed with."
Kurti snorted.
"What's breed mean?" whispered Robyn.
Lance went pink. "That's making babies," he hissed. "You'll get the finer details, later."
"Can't they make babies on their own?" she insisted. "Bubba looks fat enough."
Pietro sniggered.
"It's something men and women do," said Kurti. "You need both, or there's no babies."
Robyn thought about that. It seemed logical. "So I had a Mom and Dad?"
"Ja," said Kurti. "You had to. But... they weren't with you." Kurti had a sad moment, staring at nothing.
Baby Hope whimpered and sniffled. Lance made to get up, but Kurti held him down. "Wait."
Outside, another flash scoured the area. "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty," said Bubba. "Here, kitty."
"Yeah, we could use some stew," cackled Shemp.
Kurti held up a hand.
"Dang thing musta run off," said Moe. "Stoopid cats. Aughta skin 'em all."
The flashlights went away.
"Babies sometimes whimper or murmur in their sleep," Kurti explained. "She probably won't wake up for another hour or so."
"Thanks for telling *me*," murmured Lance. "I almost ate my *heart* back there."
"There wasn't time," said Kurti. "The pig brothers are stupid, but their ears make up for their lack of brains."
"They got the biggest ears ever," said Robyn. "They can hear a cat at fifty paces." And, considering how wily the local cat populations were, that was some pretty sharp hearing.
"Lance?" Kätzchen murmured. "Izzat dinner?"
"Yeah. Don't get up," he cautioned. "You need to rest for a while."
"Don't worry," she said. "I don't wanna move." Tentative, she felt around her. "Hope. Where's - "
"She's in a crib nearby," assured Lance. "She's asleep." Now he got up, and guided her hand to the crib, and the pink little human within. "See? She's okay."
Hope murmured a little. One hand had escaped her swaddling.
"Still asleep?" Kätzchen asked.
"Yeah. I'll dish you up some dinner. I remember reading somewhere that you had to let 'em cry a while. But - considering the sitch - they might not be very good."
"Mutie-hunters," said Kurti. "So far, we've seen the pig brothers; but there's still the Vanguard and the Chains."
"They mostly fight each other, though," said Pietro. "They don't often go here. There's nothing they need."
Lance handed Kitty a bowl and a spork. She ate with quick efficiency.
Then the unthinkable happened.
A madman entered the scene. Robyn could tell by the distant singing.
"Loooooooove. Changes all. Love cha-anges all... I never knew it would eeeeever co-o-ome... Love changes all--"
Bubba sprang into action, leaping from the shadows and sending a load of shot over the newcomer's head.
Robyn peeked out the window. There was a lit wagon full of green things. And a man in a dress with a funny hat.
"Gott im Himmel," whispered Kurti.
She felt inclined to agree.
"Sounds like your kinda guy," Lance muttered, nodding at Pietro. The albino whipped around, glaring.
"Hardly," he said. "That guy's not only nuts, he's crazy! Walking into the middle of the street making that much noise?"
"They wouldn't... shoot him, would they?" Kitty asked nervously. "I mean, he could just be a human, like them. Not mutant at all."
"Kätzchen, the pig brothers don't care what they're shooting at, as long as it's edible," Kurt whispered forebodingly, eyes fixed out of the window. "Why do you think there are so few survivors around here?"
Behind her glasses, Kitty's sightless eyes widened in horror, and her grasp tightened on the side of Hope's crib.
"Good God," Lance cursed. "What kind of a place *is* this?!"
Nobody answered his question, but Pietro's voice cut through the gloom like a knife. "What the hell - the guy's going up to them! He's spreading his arms, like he wants to *hug* them, or something."
"Or something," Kurt muttered. "Shhh, I'm trying to hear what they're saying."
Silence settled on the little group for a moment, and both Kurt and Robyn strained their extra-sensitive hearing trying to pick up the words spoken outside. A faint burble filtered through into their makeshift haven, though the six men outside were too quiet for most to hear properly. The assembled mutants looked expectantly at elf and cat-girl alike, watching and waiting.
Finally; "What does 'salvation' mean?"
"It means being saved, or rescued," Lance replied when nobody else did.
"Oh," said Robyn. Then; "So what's a 'Goddess'?"
"Huh?"
"Well, the man in the funny hat said; 'the Goddess will bring salvation to this land', but I dunno what he means. Do you?"
Lance blinked. "Uh... I...."
"Scheisse!" hissed Kurt suddenly, cutting off all further conversation. His curse was closely followed by the sound of gunshot from outside, and a cry.
"What happened? What happened?" Robyn whimpered, trying to get to the window. Kurt pushed her away again, forcing her to crouch low on the floor where she wouldn't see.
"They shot him. In the leg. Guy's gone down like a sack of potatoes!"
Pietro dropped near them, switching to survival mode in an instant. "Dead?"
Kurt shook his head. "No, wounded. Won't last long against those thugs, though. He can't move, and from what I can tell, he carries no weapons, just... *plants*. They're moving in on him right now." The elf turned to his pale companion. "I'm going after him."
"What?" Lance was incredulous, but wily enough to keep his voice low. "But the guy's a nutso!"
"He's harmless. A religious fool, from what I saw. Preacher of some kind. He doesn't deserve their 'tender mercy'."
"What about us?"
"I'll lead the Pig Brothers away, you get the plant guy to safety. He's a human being, Lance Alvers," Kurt's golden eyes flashed in the murk, "And where I come from, *every* life is precious."
He made as if to get up, but Robyn grabbed his wrist. "Kurti, no!" she pleaded. "Please don't go! I'm scared!"
"I have to," Kurt said firmly, prising her grasp away. "Stay here with Pie-Pie, liebchen. Remember the rules. Whatever you do, *don't* go outside!" And with that, he darted away, out the disused back door of the surgery, and skirted around the side of the building so that the Pig Brothers wouldn't be able to tell from which direction he'd come.
Lance opened and shut his mouth like a fish, devoid of anything useful to say. "Shit!"
*******************
The Pig Brothers weren't exactly a clever bunch. But they were savage, and each was a crack-shot - which more than made up for their lack of smarts in this new world they found themselves in.
Anybody even slightly cultured probably would've likened them to the characters in 'Lord of The Flies' at that moment, especially given their porcine orientated background. They crowded in on the robed newcomer, leering madly and preparing for a little sport with him.
For his part, the man only stared blankly, before looking at the hole in his gown and blood seeping slowly through it. He didn't shout out in pain, nor cuss them as a normal person would. Instead, he simply seemed unable to understand their actions, and kept looking between the five brothers and his wound incredulously.
Curly stepped forward. As the eldest sibling, he had invariably become their leader in these dark times, and he pointed the barrel of 'Old Greta' as he called his shotgun, under the man's chin.
Confused blue eyes stared back at him from beneath the hat's wide brim. "Have you no faith in the Goddess?"
"Whut Goddess?" asked Bubba from behind them.
"She who will reign deliverance down upon us all, should we tend the seeds of mercy, as she so decreed."
Curly hucked a gob and spat it onto the ground in contempt. "Whut you be talkin' 'bout, stranger?"
But the stranger said no more.
*******************
_If God protects fools and children,_ Kurt thought, _I must qualify for both. Hey, Boss. I need an extra contingent of Guardian Angels, right here. For him and me, both. Deliver us safely from the Pig Brothers and their ilk._ Then he launched himself off the roof, straight towards Curly, howling like a demon fresh from Hell.
The pig brothers reacted predictably - shooting first and asking questions later - though their aim was off owing to adrenaline. He landed on Curly and made quick use of his sharp nails to tear the Pig Brothers clothes and scratch skin. He *could* have killed the man with a quick poke to the jugular, but Kurt much preferred to give each soul a solid chance for repentance.
That, and he'd seen what the Pig Brothers did when they were upset about something. The gang that had come to Bayville and shot their best sow was still creatively strung up on the side of a building somewhere, as far as he knew.
The Pig Brothers may not have been smart, but they were definitely ingenious when it came to alternate uses for bailing wire.
Kurt launched off of Curly and gave Bubba something to think about, and nicked the other three on general principals before haring off at all possible speed towards the old industrial district. He still bayed madly, though, so that the Pig Brothers would have something to follow.
Which they did.
_I'll give the others a quarter of an hour,_ he thought. _That ought to be plenty of time._
*******************
The madman in the khaftan was trying to move the barrow. In a past life, it had been the sort of thing hotdogs were sold out of. Only now the trays held fruit seedlings and flowers and dirt and other things Pietro had thought were extinct.
"Easy, now, hombre," he soothed. "You don't want to bleed to death, now, do you?"
"If I do, I will nourish the Earth and my soul will fly to the Goddess," muttered the zealot. "But I must protect her bounty. Must save the fruits of her labours..."
Lance finally arrived and held him down. "Nothing's gonna get saved if you don't sit still." He improvised a tourniquet out of the Khaftan's hem and bound the wound. Quick, practised movements, Pietro noticed. But then, he'd evolved the same sorts of skills. Even *buckshot* could hit a quick target at a wide enough scatter pattern.
Pietro inspected the wagon. Nothing seemed to be hurt. "Don't worry, pal," he said. "The fruits of your Goddess are going to a nice safe place. And so are you." He was careful, but he was still fast, and had the cart safely hidden inside the hospital room with Kitty and the kids, then he was out again to assist Lance.
"This place," said Lance, "Is seriously fucked up."
"Yup," Pietro agreed. "That sort of thing happens all the time in Ground Zero. Fucked up fuck-uppishness. *All* over the place."
Lance boggled at him. "This is *Bayville*? Where it all started? Holy *fuck*..."
"...less blasphemy, please?" said the Zealot. "My Goddess won't want to hear foul words when I report to her."
"You aren't going to die," said Lance, hauling him towards the back doors. "You're in luck. There's a doctor's surgery here. If all goes well, we can even get the bullet outta ya."
"Yeah," agreed Pietro. "It's just a flesh wound. Heck, we could probably even make sure you don't get a limp."
"...you don't unnerst'nd..." mumbled the Zealot. And then he passed out.
*******************
Robyn boggled. "*More* people..." she whispered, explaining things to Kätzchen. "It's the man in the dress who came with the cart. He's bleeding from his leg and he's sleeping."
"I boarded up the doors again," said Pietro. "Our man Friday's in shock, I think. It'll be easier for us to patch 'im up while he's out."
"Looks like twenty-two," said Lance. "Only one bullet, and only a hassle if it hit anything major."
"Doesn't look it," said Pietro. They put the man on the floor.
In all the confusion, the fighting and carrying and whatnot, he still had his hat on. It was a conical thing, apparently made of dried reeds. Robyn took it off him, examining his face.
The man was - ordinaryish. He had curly hair and more than a hint of a beard. It was prickly and rough, not soft and smooth like Kurti's face. The curls fascinated her. Robyn had never seen springy hair up close, before. The way it kept moving back into shape was fascinating.
"*Kid*... outta the way, willya?" Lance and Pie-Pie had found a bed on wheels and some lamps and some tools.
Robyn skittered out of the way, still clinging tight to the hat. It had a name inside it.
"Al-vinn... Sk-sk-skeithe... Be-loved of the Goddess," she read.
Had Alvin Skeithe fallen to the Pig Brothers, he wouldn't have even been buried with his name. He'd have been buried in a pig[1].
Pietro aimed lamps while Lance fished out the bullet and washed and sewed. Then they both wrapped the wound.
Pietro handed Robyn a bowl of soup; then gave one to Lance before he took anything for himself.
Robyn took up a post by the window, watching the night outside and waiting for Kurti. "I hope he comes back," she whispered.
Baby Hope woke up at last, protesting against the unfairness of an empty tummy and, judging by the smell, a full diaper.
Robyn let Lance and Pietro fuss over Kätzchen and Baby Hope. She was worried about Kurti. If he didn't come back, then everything she knew would vanish. She'd be in the company of strangers and a time of peril. Kurti *had* to come back. It was the way of the world.
But even Robyn knew that the world was a dangerous place.
Alvin Skeithe had proved it.
*******************
_Scheisse!_
Kurt pattered through the deserted streets, four-footer style. This way, he could at least put some distance between himself and the Pig Brothers without losing them completely.
A shot rang out as he rounded a bend, and he heard the haphazard 'ratatatatatatat' of buckshot striking and bouncing off a brick wall, closely followed by a yell of frustration from Moe at having missed *again*.
Kurt smiled grimly to himself. That was the fourth time they'd tried for him and missed. Each time had been a near thing, but it gave him a sort of sick satisfaction to put another stone in their proverbial shoe. He darted up a wall, running sideways along it above face level.
{THUNDERTHUNDERTHUNDERTHUNDER}
"There 'ee is!" shouted someone who sounded distinctly like Shemp, the youngest pig boy. More shots were fired, but Kurt leapt clear, twirling artistically and calling on his acrobatic history to land at a run and keep on going.
"Y'missed!" shouted Curly, and the sound of a slap echoed along the street. "Lemme get a shot in at 'im! That durn critter's got away frum us too many tahms as 'tis."
_More times than you even know,_ the elf quipped silently, thinking of all those occasions when he'd spotted them and clung high to walls while they passed by, unmindful of his presence.
His breath was coming in short, sharp gasps now, and the telltale signs of stitch began to twinge in his side. _Not now!_ he ordered it, dodging left down a small alleyway that would've been a dead end for anybody else because of the tall wire mesh fence strung across the way.
His impeccable sense of timing told him approximately ten minutes had passed since this merry chase began. Not yet time to go back, but much longer than he was used to exerting himself of late. All those times he'd given up his food to Robyn began to make themselves known as his muscles protested at having no fuel, and his lungs started to burn.
_I *said*, not now! Can't afford to flag. Have to keep going._
He shimmied up the fence as if he were running on flat ground, fingers and toes finding holds expertly in the hooked metal. His tail, too, provided a useful levering tool, and the spaded tip hauled the rest of him up as his limbs grew heavy and began to drag.
Too fast, too fast, a part of his mind whispered. Not enough energy for this much exercise. Too much, too fast.
But if Kurt was anything, he was stubborn, and gamely clambered upwards, squirrel-like.
However, when black spots invaded his vision, things became just that little bit more difficult. For once in his life, Kurt's famous grip failed, and he missed a handhold long enough to lose his balance and tumble backward off the netting. Throwing out his other hand, tridactyl fingers laced through the wire, snagging a hold and securing his place above the ground.
But luck didn't stay with him long, as Kurt found out to his cost.
"Got 'im!" exalted a voice, and a blast rent the air.
Kurt tried to swing himself out of the way, and *did* manage to save himself from any serious injury. Stinging pain erupted from his backside, however, as the buckshot either glanced off or buried itself in his flesh. Thanks to his fur, it didn't go very far past the skin, but hurt like hell. He was wincing visibly as he dived over the top and scurried away down the passage.
Glaring up into the dust-ridden sky, Kurt shouted; "You and I have gotta have a *serious* talk later, Boss!"
Thirteen minutes gone. Just a few more to go. _Better give the others an extra five, just to make sure._
Kurt paused in a doorway, taking advantage of the distance he'd gained to inspect his wounds. His backside was like Swiss Cheese, and thin slivers of red could be seen here and there through the back of his clothes. There was nothing too major, but the aesthetic hurts were bad enough. He had enough trouble sitting down without *this* kind of thing added to the mix as well.
A shout some way off signalled that the more agile of the Pig Brothers had followed his lead and scaled the fence, and Kurt sighed. Bubba would no doubt still be on the other side, jumping up and down like an idiot, like he did every time Kurt led them down those fenced alleys. _You'd think they'd have learned by now,_ he mused wryly, and padded to crouch in the middle of the street where they could see, but not shoot at him - well, at least not hit him, anyway.
He'd gone no more than a few feet when something hard cracked him from behind. Stars exploded inside his skull, and with a muffled "Unk!" Kurt's nose hit concrete.
"Stinkin' mutie!" snarled a voice, and Kurt looked blearily up from the dust to see Moe glaring down at him, gun cocked and at the ready.
The tap-tap-tapping of footsteps heralded the arrival of the other Pig Brothers, and Kurt listened, only half being able to actually see anything, as they encircled his prone form. His tail flopped lazily, like a worm caught in a dry patch and he rubbed at the back of his head where Moe had caught him.
Bubba grinned, jowls wobbling as he brandished the wire cutters previously tucked into his belt. He was the only one of them without a gun in hand, but the rifle was still slung over one shoulder, close to hand should he also decide to take a pot shot.
Curly stepped forward once more. The situation was exactly the same as earlier, save for the change in victim from a bemused zealot with a leg wound, to a dazed elf with a sore bottom. Old Greta snapped to the ready, and the eldest brother squeezed one eye shut as he aimed down the barrel.
For the briefest of moments, Kurt considered teleporting, but almost immediately realised it was impossible. His body felt almost numb, weak and drained by hunger and physical exertion. He could barely move, and his vision was blurry already. If he tried to 'port, no doubt the consequences would be disastrous.
Old Greta poked into his face, dark circles to his fuzzy sight.
_Uh-oh._
*******************
"He's late," Robyn whimpered. "He's never late."
"Hhhsssshhh," Lance soothed. "It's okay. He's probably on his way back right now."
Alvin stirred on his bed. "...ooowwww..."
Pie-pie made to serve another bowl of soup.
"Please?" Robyn begged, stopping him. "Leave some for Kurti?"
"*Ow*!" said the Zealot. "Oh, Goddess... such trials you send the faithful..."
"Don't move," said Pietro. "You've got a hole in your leg. Better not make it angry."
"The plants! My Goddess' plants? Are they--?"
"They're fine," said Robyn. "But Kurti isn't back yet."
"You mean the blessed one who saved me?" said Alvin. "The one sent by the Divine?"
"His name's Kurt," said Pietro. "He lead the Pig Brothers off and he said he'd be fifteen minutes and it's been almost half an hour."
"Kurti's never late," said Robyn.
Alvin appeared to notice her for the first time. He gasped and viewed her in awe. "A child of the blessed ones." He smiled, tears gathering in his eyes. "I never thought I'd see one so close... May I - touch you?"
This guy was *strange*... "I don't wanna leave the window," she said. "Kurti might come back."
"I'll pray for him," said Alvin. "The Goddess will provide." He clutched at a symbol at his neck. An X inside a circle.
Robyn froze. There was a place she and Kurti went, sometimes, when the Pig Brothers and the Vanguards and the Chains were off fighting their turf wars. It was a quiet place in amongst a ruined forest, marked by three crosses, and that symbol.
"Professor Xavier," Robyn whispered. "You're wearing a li'l wheel like the Professor had when he was alive."
If the Zealot's face could have opened any further, it would have burst. "You - you know of the Great Teacher? The one who bought together the Blessed in the Dream of Peace?"
"...um..." said Robyn, inching a little away. "Maybe not like *that*... Kurti told me about him is all."
"This guy's *nu-uts*..." Pietro sang under his breath.
Alvin was struggling to get up. "If your Kurt is a student of the Great Teacher," he panted, stopping to clutch at his wound, "Then it's my holy duty to save him! All the students of the Great Teacher must be found! Found alive! For the Goddess' comfort and peace! She lost her family to the Plague and the wars, but she will not lose the students! We must--ARGH!"
Pietro caught him on the way down. "Easy, there nutso," he soothed. "You aren't going nowhere right now. Goddess or not, you need to rest up a bit."
"But I left a Blessed Student in the hands of the Tainted," Alvin protested. "My beloved Goddess would never forgive me if I allowed him to perish. And after he risked his life for *me*, a mere missionary..."
Lance looked at Pietro. Pietro looked back.
"We are *so* frikkin' screwed," Lance sighed.
*******************
To Be Continued...
*******************
[1] That is, fed to it. In a post-apocalyptic world, one does not waste protein.