Chapter Nine
Austin always kept at least one hand on his gun. He could use his right hand as well as his left, each with the same mobility. Call it a bad habit. Of course, there was always Mark to call shots for him, during which Austin would draw his gun and shoot Mark straight through the head, earning praise from the ghost.
KO was a title well-fitted to him.
The only one Austin had never shot was Mimic. It took him a long time to get used to the black creature creeping around at night, back when they went to sleep during the night and plagued the world during the day. No matter how many times his reflexes occurred, she had never been hit. There was no armor on her body to protect her from his bullets. How any mortal creature could gain that sort of speed was beyond him, but then again, the Mimic was an enigma to all.
He wasn't certain if he was the reason that she went to live outside, but he had some hand it in, he was sure. It wasn't exactly his fault. Most of it was a reflex. He was very good at those and had quite a few. He often shot Mark upon command without even looking. He knew where everyone and everything was in a room at one time. It was just the gift of an ex assassin.
By time he had gotten to breakfast, Mark had turned into a floating mass of Fruit Loops, and Elizabeth was writing in her book. Wanda was also in the room, sitting in the chair across from Elizabeth with her eyes closed and hands folded. He stared at the newcomer for a second, then made his way into the kitchen.
************************************
After seeing Bobby's curious face first thing in the morning, Lance was pretty sure he'd come as close as possible to a heart attack. Now it was over, and the little rascal was sitting on the headboard of his bed staring at him like a stranger. Pietro was watching Bobby as closely as possible, but Lance was only shocked for a few minutes.
"Breakfast in the meeting room," Bobby chirped, his wings stretching to their full potential.
"What's for breakfast?" Lance groaned as he stretched.
"Kix! Kix! Cocoa-Puffs! Fruity Pebbles and Kix!" he sang happily.
"Cereal? That's-all-you-guys-have-here?"
Bobby dashed across the room and jumped on the ceiling. "Cereal!"
He was out of the door in an instant, making his way to the meeting room to see if he could talk Elizabeth out of another box of Kix. Pietro grumbled and shook his head.
"Stupid-kid..."
Lance rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Pietro. You don't even know what the mutant camps are like. He was in it for one week!"
"One-week? Pansy."
Lance shook his head. "You don't come back out sane, Pietro. I've never been in there. Mimic's never been in there. None of them have except for that little guy. It's the worst place for a mutant to be."
"Whatever."
Lance grumbled and stormed out of the room, but Pietro was ahead of him before he even left his stance.
**************************************
The concentration camps in underground Vegas made Hitler look like a saint. No one knew what went down there except for Bobby, and he was never telling. The others had never been inside one. Mimic was making plans to try and take it down, but if she lost any of the other members to it, they might all just be trapped there.
One week of no sleep no food, little water. It had been obvious from his bad condition when he was rescued that he was starved. For three days he barely moved in his nest. Elizabeth brought him food, and Mimic stayed inside the base for a few days afterwards to make sure he was okay. He would shiver at night. He was deathly still and quiet, barely moving even in his waking hours.
Once, Bobby had been much like Elizabeth, having some amount of maturity and a really good taste for a good prank.
Afterwards, he acted like he was seven. No one complained, not even Jim. No one really asked anything. They just dealt with it. That's when he began to follow Mimic around, looking up to her.
Elizabeth had started teaching him the alphabet and numbers to give him something to do. Since he was abandoned early in life, he had never been through elementary school or any kind of school. His transformation occured very close to birth, and that was also impossible to get around.
Bobby knew about the number too. He knew what it meant. They had tried to burn a number on him, but his scales were too hard. He never asked her about it, like no one had asked him about his, well not that often anyway. Mark and Elizabeth had tried to coax an answer around him, but there was none they'd understand.
The camps were the nightmare of all; even the great Mimic had trouble talking about them. It was a danger too horrible to know.
No one wanted to know.
*****************************
Bobby had come to the construction site to find his friend and talk. He found her, but she spotted him long beforehand. He left slight scratches in the steel, but those stupid people wouldn't notice them. His tail waved through the cool night air, and he sat on the opposite edge of the beam.
She was silent, staring over the bright lights of the city with an almost lazy look. She was crouched almost dangerously close to the edge, but that wasn't unusual for Mimic. She was known for living on the edge.
"What's Snidva?" he asked softly.
She froze, cringing as the two syllables escaped his lips. She turned to face him, her tail wrapping insanely tight around the beam.
"What's a Snidva?"
She looked down and shook her head. He crawled to her and sat beside her.
"That's what the letters spell. At least, that's what I think they spell."
Mimic sighed. "The word I recognize," she said slowly, "but there is no memory behind it."
Basically, she had heard it before, but she didn't remember. It wasn't a surprise.
"I want to know what is it, Mimic. Is it a name?"
"I can't remember."
She said it in a way that hushed him. He sad behind her and curled his arms and tail around her in an ever-so-loving hug.
"Mimic, you'll always be here, won't you? Even if you can't remember anything?"
"It isn't that I can't remember...," she whispered. "It's just that I forgot..."
Bobby nodded against her back. "When are you gonna teach me how to fly?"
A smile replaced the puzzled look on her face. "Soon."
"Soon?"
"I have to do some research, first. I'll break into the library tomorrow night."
"What do you have to research?"
"Well, dragons, actually. I wanna see what I can find out about them. Maybe there's something in there about how the babies developed."
"Why do you come up here?" he asked.
"To see the sky."
"Can't you see the sky from the ground?"
"No."
Bobby, truthfully, had never tried to look up at the sky, but when he caught himself doing so, there was no sky, only light pollution. There was sky up here with stars, not just a blurry brown run of gunk.
Mimic stirred, and out of habit he released her, since she usually moved every five minutes at least, ten at most. Indeed she jumped below them onto another beam, and he swung down after her, slower so as not to fall. Mimic had never fallen. She had never done anything clumsey before, even when she was tripped. She'd land on her hands or use her tail as a spring and bounce back. It was rather interesting to watch, actually. Bobby had never made his tail into a spring, and she had told him that there was enough muscle and bone in her tail that allowed it to do that. He wasn't one for technical terms, but that seemed to make sense.
No one knew why Bobby looked up to Mimic, not even himself. She just seemed to be the one that made the most sense. She didn't know any of the fancy stuff that humans taught in their schools. She had never been to school herself, and she learned to read by listening to his lessons from another room and practicing. It was funny. No one knew she couldn't read. No one except her. She learned to write as she learned how to read, but numbers had always been easy for her, even at the tiny level she was at.
Mimic had never been to any kind of school, and maybe that was a flaw in her, but no one took notice.
Bobby perched on the beam next to her, looking at the moon. She turned her head and followed his sight, then let her eyes fall on the bright gleam of light called Las Vegas.
Bobby had seen the sky rarely, since most of his time was spent either underground or fighting.
"It's...big..."
The night sky he had seen before, but it was locked away in the back of his head much like the camp experience. So much space up there.
His wings flapped uncontrollably, something that Mimic did notice, and his urge to jump off the skeleton structure was hindered by Mimic's tail, who had tied both his feet to the beam.
Austin always kept at least one hand on his gun. He could use his right hand as well as his left, each with the same mobility. Call it a bad habit. Of course, there was always Mark to call shots for him, during which Austin would draw his gun and shoot Mark straight through the head, earning praise from the ghost.
KO was a title well-fitted to him.
The only one Austin had never shot was Mimic. It took him a long time to get used to the black creature creeping around at night, back when they went to sleep during the night and plagued the world during the day. No matter how many times his reflexes occurred, she had never been hit. There was no armor on her body to protect her from his bullets. How any mortal creature could gain that sort of speed was beyond him, but then again, the Mimic was an enigma to all.
He wasn't certain if he was the reason that she went to live outside, but he had some hand it in, he was sure. It wasn't exactly his fault. Most of it was a reflex. He was very good at those and had quite a few. He often shot Mark upon command without even looking. He knew where everyone and everything was in a room at one time. It was just the gift of an ex assassin.
By time he had gotten to breakfast, Mark had turned into a floating mass of Fruit Loops, and Elizabeth was writing in her book. Wanda was also in the room, sitting in the chair across from Elizabeth with her eyes closed and hands folded. He stared at the newcomer for a second, then made his way into the kitchen.
************************************
After seeing Bobby's curious face first thing in the morning, Lance was pretty sure he'd come as close as possible to a heart attack. Now it was over, and the little rascal was sitting on the headboard of his bed staring at him like a stranger. Pietro was watching Bobby as closely as possible, but Lance was only shocked for a few minutes.
"Breakfast in the meeting room," Bobby chirped, his wings stretching to their full potential.
"What's for breakfast?" Lance groaned as he stretched.
"Kix! Kix! Cocoa-Puffs! Fruity Pebbles and Kix!" he sang happily.
"Cereal? That's-all-you-guys-have-here?"
Bobby dashed across the room and jumped on the ceiling. "Cereal!"
He was out of the door in an instant, making his way to the meeting room to see if he could talk Elizabeth out of another box of Kix. Pietro grumbled and shook his head.
"Stupid-kid..."
Lance rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Pietro. You don't even know what the mutant camps are like. He was in it for one week!"
"One-week? Pansy."
Lance shook his head. "You don't come back out sane, Pietro. I've never been in there. Mimic's never been in there. None of them have except for that little guy. It's the worst place for a mutant to be."
"Whatever."
Lance grumbled and stormed out of the room, but Pietro was ahead of him before he even left his stance.
**************************************
The concentration camps in underground Vegas made Hitler look like a saint. No one knew what went down there except for Bobby, and he was never telling. The others had never been inside one. Mimic was making plans to try and take it down, but if she lost any of the other members to it, they might all just be trapped there.
One week of no sleep no food, little water. It had been obvious from his bad condition when he was rescued that he was starved. For three days he barely moved in his nest. Elizabeth brought him food, and Mimic stayed inside the base for a few days afterwards to make sure he was okay. He would shiver at night. He was deathly still and quiet, barely moving even in his waking hours.
Once, Bobby had been much like Elizabeth, having some amount of maturity and a really good taste for a good prank.
Afterwards, he acted like he was seven. No one complained, not even Jim. No one really asked anything. They just dealt with it. That's when he began to follow Mimic around, looking up to her.
Elizabeth had started teaching him the alphabet and numbers to give him something to do. Since he was abandoned early in life, he had never been through elementary school or any kind of school. His transformation occured very close to birth, and that was also impossible to get around.
Bobby knew about the number too. He knew what it meant. They had tried to burn a number on him, but his scales were too hard. He never asked her about it, like no one had asked him about his, well not that often anyway. Mark and Elizabeth had tried to coax an answer around him, but there was none they'd understand.
The camps were the nightmare of all; even the great Mimic had trouble talking about them. It was a danger too horrible to know.
No one wanted to know.
*****************************
Bobby had come to the construction site to find his friend and talk. He found her, but she spotted him long beforehand. He left slight scratches in the steel, but those stupid people wouldn't notice them. His tail waved through the cool night air, and he sat on the opposite edge of the beam.
She was silent, staring over the bright lights of the city with an almost lazy look. She was crouched almost dangerously close to the edge, but that wasn't unusual for Mimic. She was known for living on the edge.
"What's Snidva?" he asked softly.
She froze, cringing as the two syllables escaped his lips. She turned to face him, her tail wrapping insanely tight around the beam.
"What's a Snidva?"
She looked down and shook her head. He crawled to her and sat beside her.
"That's what the letters spell. At least, that's what I think they spell."
Mimic sighed. "The word I recognize," she said slowly, "but there is no memory behind it."
Basically, she had heard it before, but she didn't remember. It wasn't a surprise.
"I want to know what is it, Mimic. Is it a name?"
"I can't remember."
She said it in a way that hushed him. He sad behind her and curled his arms and tail around her in an ever-so-loving hug.
"Mimic, you'll always be here, won't you? Even if you can't remember anything?"
"It isn't that I can't remember...," she whispered. "It's just that I forgot..."
Bobby nodded against her back. "When are you gonna teach me how to fly?"
A smile replaced the puzzled look on her face. "Soon."
"Soon?"
"I have to do some research, first. I'll break into the library tomorrow night."
"What do you have to research?"
"Well, dragons, actually. I wanna see what I can find out about them. Maybe there's something in there about how the babies developed."
"Why do you come up here?" he asked.
"To see the sky."
"Can't you see the sky from the ground?"
"No."
Bobby, truthfully, had never tried to look up at the sky, but when he caught himself doing so, there was no sky, only light pollution. There was sky up here with stars, not just a blurry brown run of gunk.
Mimic stirred, and out of habit he released her, since she usually moved every five minutes at least, ten at most. Indeed she jumped below them onto another beam, and he swung down after her, slower so as not to fall. Mimic had never fallen. She had never done anything clumsey before, even when she was tripped. She'd land on her hands or use her tail as a spring and bounce back. It was rather interesting to watch, actually. Bobby had never made his tail into a spring, and she had told him that there was enough muscle and bone in her tail that allowed it to do that. He wasn't one for technical terms, but that seemed to make sense.
No one knew why Bobby looked up to Mimic, not even himself. She just seemed to be the one that made the most sense. She didn't know any of the fancy stuff that humans taught in their schools. She had never been to school herself, and she learned to read by listening to his lessons from another room and practicing. It was funny. No one knew she couldn't read. No one except her. She learned to write as she learned how to read, but numbers had always been easy for her, even at the tiny level she was at.
Mimic had never been to any kind of school, and maybe that was a flaw in her, but no one took notice.
Bobby perched on the beam next to her, looking at the moon. She turned her head and followed his sight, then let her eyes fall on the bright gleam of light called Las Vegas.
Bobby had seen the sky rarely, since most of his time was spent either underground or fighting.
"It's...big..."
The night sky he had seen before, but it was locked away in the back of his head much like the camp experience. So much space up there.
His wings flapped uncontrollably, something that Mimic did notice, and his urge to jump off the skeleton structure was hindered by Mimic's tail, who had tied both his feet to the beam.