Logan's Tale pt. V

"Jean"

It took a little bit of work, but I managed to get Jubilee out of the hole where the window bars used to be. I quickly crawled out behind her.

A police chopper kicks up cold desert wind as it approached the farm. A bright searchlight flashed from the chopper as we ran by a broken down fence. The light passed over us and I reflexively froze beneath the light and pulled Jubilee closer. The light passed on and I picked Jubilee up and took off towards the woods. Jubilee's like a kitten under my arm, soft and weightless and warm. We make it to the woods and I crouch down behind a tree.

The chopper lands in a small square of space beside the house and seven men, all packin' Uzi's, jump out of it with military precision. Six of 'em were cops: each in full riot gear with their dopey plastic visors down. The seventh, the leader looked more beast than man. He was tall, nearly seven feet and had long, golden-blonde hair, almost like a mane. He was big, hiding most of his muscle beneath a long black coat, but just barely. He had clawed hands, vicious looking things that ended in curved talons. His face was more savage and feral than mine with erratic tribal tattoos around his eyes, but it seemed vaguely familiar to me.

Snikt!

My claws popped all on their own, like they remember something I don't. I can't sheathe them, my claws won't go back. That cold thing in my gut explodes into raging fire. I hate this man. Don't know why, but every nerve, every instinct is telling me to rip him apart slowly and show him his own guts.

-X-

The troop of cops and their mangy leader ran directly into the house. I can here 'em tearing the place apart lookin' for us. They soon came back outside. I could see the leader pointing towards the woods and barking orders to his men.

"They're done checking the house," I whispered to Jubilee. "They're comin' this way…" I rose to my feet and brandished my claws. "Bastards…I'll show 'em."

KUDD!

I only took one step towards the cops before Jubilee hit me in the back of the head with the biggest rock she could lift with one hand. Everything went out of focus for a minute and my claws finally retracted.

"You're not gonna get either of us killed, Wolvie," Jubilee said. She trotted away from me and out of the woods. The cops saw her immediately and they all turned to fire upon her.

"No! Don't shoot!" she shouted over the whine of the helicopter. "Please, listen to me," she said as she approached, her good hand and stump raised above her head innocently. "I'm his parole officer," she explained. "He's unconscious and unarmed, er well sort of. So there's no need to kill him."

Tattoo looked at Jubilee curiously before a massive clawed hand sprang up and seized her by the throat. Jubilee's eyes widened in terror as he roughly pulled her close to him.

"Scream for me," he growled through his fang-like teeth. Jubilee opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Tattoo squeezed tighter and easily lifted her off the ground. Jubilee's feet danced in the air as she tried to pry the clawed fingers off her throat. Tattoo grinned at her futile attempts and slowly, deliberately raised his Uzi from his side and showed it to her. Jubilee tried to scream at the sight of the gun and struggled harder. Tattoo's fanged grin grew even larger as he aimed the Uzi at her chest and pulled the trigger.

BREKK! BREKK! BREKK!

Waves of bullets slammed into Jubilee's chest and her body danced while Tattoo held her by the neck. He let go and her body flopped to the ground, dead. But he didn't stop.

BREKK! BREKK!

The son of a bitch kept firing; kept blasting away with his Uzi until Jubilee's beautiful face was almost unrecognizable. And all the while, Tattoo grinned. That ugly, fang-ridden smile was etched across his features and he loved it all. The blood, the death, the pain; he drank it in like a connoisseur drinks wine.

-X-

I was still reeling from Jubilee's shot to my head when he killed her. It was the smell that brought me around. The stench of blood mixed with the cold desert wind and made me wanna puke. And then I saw what that tattooed freak had done to my Jubilee. That made me mad. But seeing him enjoying it so much, taking such satisfaction and pleasure in her death, that made me feral…

My vision turned red as I leapt to my feet, claws springing out of my clenched fists. Blood still trickled from the back of my head, but it barely registered in my brain. My bestial side took over and the rest of the world faded into the background. Nothing mattered anymore: not Red, not Toad, not the mysterious man in the car. The only thing that mattered was the utter destruction of the tattooed beast that butchered my Jubilee.

I was about to charge when a gleam of metal caught my eye. I stopped to look. It was a hatchet wedged in a tree stump. A delightful idea sprang into my mind and my claws slowly slid back into their housings. I pop the hatchet out of the stump and begin to stalk silently towards the cops.

One of the cops ran up besides Tattoo as he finally stopped shooting Jubilee. "Captain, the target—there's no sign of him," the cop reported.

"Here's a sign!" I roar as I leap to attack. The 1st cop had his back to me. I lowered the hatchet and swung it up in-between his legs. It connected with a gross squelch and he screamed and sank to his knees. By now all the cops were comin' at me. I pop the claws in my left hand and slash across the chest of the first one to reach my, while the hatchet in my right hand gashed the belly of the cop right behind him. His guts came streaming out and landed in a gross pile upon the lawn.

After that it got fun…

The 3rd cop came at me sideways, like I wouldn't notice him or somethin'. I sidestepped in front of him and swung the hatchet down onto his head, cleaving his helmet and skull in half.

I kicked cop number 4 in the chest and spun around to surprise number 5 while he snuck up on me. My hatched sliced through his throat, nearly decapitating him.

I turned my attention back to number 4 and started hacking at his chest with the hatchet while he lay on the ground. Blood squirted onto my arms and stained my t-shirt red, but I didn't care. It was payback time and these bastards deserved everything they got.

BREKK! BREKK!

More Uzi fire. I don't even pick up my head. With my healing factor, the only thing an Uzi is going to do to me is piss me off even more. Not a single bullet came close to me anyway. Cop number 6 accidentally ran into the line of fire when his Tattooed Captain was trying to shoot me. Cop took the bullets for me. How sweet.

I finish hacking up the cop and leave the hatchet buried in the gaping hole that used to be his chest. I stood up and stared down the Tattooed Captain. He was fiddling with his Uzi. The damn thing had jammed on him. He threw the worthless weapon away and stared back at me, his beady little eyes bloodshot with hate.

I pop the claws from my right hand and brandish all six razor sharp blades at him.

"Now that's a fine looking coat you're wearing, bub."

-X-

Tattoo looked at his coat then back at me. Then he threw his back and laughed. He laughter was dark and gruesome, like this was all a tragic joke that only he understood. He was laughing so hard he doubled over and held his stomach. His laughter threw me off and I stopped my attack. I waited just outside of arm's reach until he pulled himself back together and stopped laughing.

"Who are you?" I growled angrily. "How do you know me, you egg-suckin' piece of gutter trash?"

"Hoo-ha!" he laughed again. "Ya know, for someone who can't remember me at all, you sure have prejudged me some." He laughed again. "You'd think I came over to your house and ripped your girlfriend's throat out or something!

"What did you say?" I snapped. My surprised reaction must have been hysterical cuz Tattoo burst into laughter again.

"I'm sorry," he said. "But this is so damn funny!" He started laughing again. "After all these years and all the shit between us that's all you can say?" He snorted while laughing and doubled over again. "That's a fine looking coat you're wearing," he mocked, matching my tone and voice almost perfectly. "I heard they did a number on you back in the slammer, but I never excepted you to forget me. HAHAHAHA! It's like I never even broke into your house and killed your girl at all! HAHAHAHA!"

Blood began to flow from my tightly clenched fists and my hands started to shake. Memories long forgotten flashed before my eyes:

A cabin in the North Woods…

Happiness…

Peace…

A girl…Silver Fox…

Bloody claws…

Murder…

"Sabretooth…" I muttered.

"Ding, Ding, Ding!" he laughed. He threw his arms dramatically up into the air like an old game show host. "The answer is your ol' pal Sabretooth! Johnny, tell the runt what he's won!"

I couldn't take it anymore: the laughing, the mocking, the flashbacks and memories, the stench of blood in the air.

"RRROOAARRRRRRGH!"

I leapt at Sabretooth claws first and caught him by surprise. My claws sank into his barrel chest all the way to my knuckles. He roared in pain and snarled at me. He grabbed my wrists and slowly pulled my claws out of his chest. Blood squirted from the wounds before the gashes stopped bleeding and healed before my eyes.

"Aw, shit," I muttered. Sabretooth bared his fangs in a sadistic smile and threw me into a nearby tree. I broke right through the tree and collapsed on the ground.

Sabretooth calmly took off his jacket and stood on the ruined tree stump. ""I hate you, Wolverine. I've hated you ever since the second you waltzed into Weapon X with powers like mine and fooled everybody into thinkin' you were the top dog. The only laughs I remember were when I offed your wife and that ugly little kid of yours."

"You're lying."

"Guess that's something you'll never know, precious," taunted Sabretooth.

"You son of a bitch!" I back on my feet and charging wildly. Sabretooth met my charge, ducking under my claws and using his own. I fell to the ground under his attack, my chest torn to ribbons. I wheezed for air as blood poured into my lungs, drowning me. It took a moment, but my healing factor kicked in and saved me. Meanwhile, Sabretooth took the opportunity to taunt me again. He stood directly over me and looked down at my face.

"Ya know, me and you runt, we're a lot alike. We're both killers. We both love the hunt and the kill and the feel of blood on our hands.

"NO!" I shout back at him.

"See that's the attitude that's always held you down runt. You've never given in to that beast inside; you're always fighting against it, always afraid of being your true self. You're an animal Wolverine, just like me. Except I accepted what I am and its made all the difference. You'll always be only second best. I've always been bigger, stronger, faster than you. You're nothing more than a stupid runt," he sneered.

"That maybe true, bub," I coughed. I snapped my arm up and jabbed my claws in-between Sabretooth's legs.

"AAUGGH!" he roars in pain and drops to his knees, clutching the tattered remains of his groin. I slowly get back to my feet.

"At least I've got enough brains to cover my family jewels in a fight!" I got back up on my feet and held my still healing chest. With my free hand I grabbed Sabretooth's thick mane of hair and dragged him to the remains of the tree he put me through. Spotting a pair of heavy-duty handcuffs on one of the cops' belt, I slapped them around Sabretooth's think wrists and bound him to the stump, leaving his head exposed like a man on a chopping block just waiting for an axe.

"Not bad for a runt, huh bub?" I ask as I rummage through his coat pockets. I produce a pack of cigarettes and one of those cheap plastic lighters. "Don't you know these are very bad for you," I mock and light one up.

"RRRROOOWWW! Let me go!" snarled Sabretooth.

"In a minute," I reply, taking a drag off the cigarette. "But I got some questions for you first."

-X-

The rain is comin' down in sheets by the time I walked back to town. Rain doesn't come to Sin City real often. And when it does, it's usually pretty lame stuff: warm as sweat and lucky if gets to the pavement before it evaporates.

But maybe twice a year the desert sky really coughs it up and spits it out, like right now. A cold, mean torrent that turns the streets to glass and chills you to the bone. Most people hate the rain when it's cold and nasty like this. But me, I love it. It helps me think.

I'm not real smart, but I feel a whole lot smarter when everything goes slick and everybody skitters off the streets and gets out of my way.

I love the rain. I love the icy way it creeps down my neck. The way the air goes electric and everything goes clear. The way it washes your sins away…

I felt real bad about what happened to Jubilee back there on the farm. I know it's not my fault she died; Sabretooth's the one who killed her. But I'm the one who got her involved and got into this mess.

And now I'm walkin' down the Basin City Bridge in the rain and I keep coming back to what Sabretooth and what he told me. I was pretty feral between all the bad memories he brought back and what he'd done to Jubilee, so I took my time with that son of a bitch. It wasn't till I showed him all those pieces of himself that he said it. Just a name at first. Back when the freaky priest said it I figured he was jerkin' my chain. But hearin' it from Sabretooth I knew it couldn't be coincidence.

Just a name.

Xavier.

Then he said some nonsense 'bout seein' me on my birthday. Whatever the hell that means…

Charles Francis Xavier, man of the cloth.

"Saint Charlie," they call him, but it's just a nickname. The Pope hasn't gotten around to makin' it official…not yet anyway. Maybe he's waiting for me to kill him first.

I didn't do it on purpose, but in my walking back into town I ended up in the middle of Main Street Square and the hundred-foot statue dedicated to the great Cardinal Xavier. I stared up at the likeness and laughed a bit. It's a statue of a man standing up and extending his hand to the masses. Funny part is that Xavier hasn't stood up since he did a tour in Vietnam. Land mine or somethin' messed us his spine, but a cripple ever since.

The Xavier family has owned Sin City since the days of wagon trains and six-guns. Over the generations their millions have grown to billions. They're kinda like our own Royal Family.

A while back, you couldn't walk into a bar or restaurant or hell anywhere without hearin' people goin' on about him. Man of the cloth. War hero in the medical corps. Philanthropist. World-renowned geneticist. Man could've become president, but he chose to serve God instead.

And along the way, he happened to become the most powerful man in the state. He's brought down mayors and governors like they were nothing. He even made his rotten brother a US senator without breakin' a sweat.

And here he's gonna get killed in the name of a dead hooker.

I walk up the stairs to the base of the statue and take it all in. There's a faceplate on the base that reads: CARDINAL CHARLES XAVIER: THE RIGHT HAND OF GOD

Snikt!

I pop my claws and slash across the lettering, leaving deep gashes in the text. I step back from the mutilated faceplate and laugh.

"Man of God killed over you Red," I laugh. I'm getting used to the idea. More and more, I'm liking the sound of it. I turn and step away from the statue and back into the icy rain.

Then it hits me like a kick in the nuts. I fall to my knees and hold my head up towards the heavens.

What if I'm wrong? I've got a condition; my memory is all jumbled up. And with Jubilee dead, I can't get my medicine.

What if I've imagined all of this? If I could forget someone like Sabretooth and what he did to me, I could have easily imagined all of this. Even Red. Hell, it's been a while since I was with a woman, especially one like her. She could have been a dream, a silly pipedream brought on from too many nights of watchin' Emma at Kadie's.

What if I've finally turned into what they've always said I was gonna turn into? A maniac. A psycho killer. What if what Sabretooth said was true? What if I am turning into a bloodthirsty, sadistic animal like him?

I stand up and shake some rain out of my hair. Can't kill a man, especially one as important as Xavier, without know for sure you ought to. I've got to know for sure.

-X-

The rain's sputtered to a stop and the streets have come back to life by the time I make my way to Old Town. The merchandise is on display, a collection of skimpy lingerie and very reveling outfits, never mind the wet cold. Pretty soon everything from pickups to limos will be pulling in and business will be booming.

Old Town is the reason why nobody calls this burg "Basin City" like it says on the maps. It was Saint Charlie's great-grandfather who made it happen. Back when this was a gold rush town on its way to becoming a ghost town.

Then old man Xavier got an idea. He spent every silver dollar he had, importing the top hookers from France and places like that. Word got around and pretty soon Sin City was the hottest stop in the west. People would come from miles around for one night in hooker heaven. They still do and it's easy to see why. Old Town's kept its traditions, handed down from gorgeous mother to gorgeous daughter.

For an hour or so I ask around about Red. I don't get any answers, but I know I'm bound to. Jubilee said red was a hooker and if she was she has roots here. Friends. Maybe even family.

I was interrogatin' some broad in a Wonder Woman costume when suddenly Red stepped out of the shadows, holding a revolver and aiming right at me. Before I could do anything a shot rang out and my right shoulder exploded in gore and went dead for a moment.

I stared at the red-haired angel as she walked closer to me. "You can't be Red," I winced. "Red's dead."

She doesn't say a word, just raises her pistol and takes aim again.

BAM!

The bullet slammed into my forehead, right about my right eye. The force of impact knocked me off my feet, twisting me as I fell so that I landed partially on my face. The last thing I heard was the bullet ringing off the adamantium in my head before the world spiraled into blackness.

-X-

After awhile the world stopped spinning and somebody turned the lights back on in my head. I shook my head and blinked a couple times to get it back together. I tried to stretch my aching muscles, but I couldn't move. Think ropes bound me to a wooden chair, wrapping around my neck, shoulders, wrists, and ankles. I licked my parched lips and tasted fresh blood. Between that and the soreness on my checks and nose, someone's been workin' me over while I was out.

I look up and take in the room. It's a dive, sort of like the room Red and I stayed in. I look around and see my captor. I let out a humorless laugh and smiled. "Heh. Red. Yeah, sure, right." She takes a drag off a cigarette and stares down at my coldly, all the light I saw in those eyes before long burned out. "It's okay, Red. I got nobody to blame but me. I brought it all this on myself and there's no use denying it. I haven't had anything to eat or gotten any sleep or taken my medicine for days now. So it's no wonder I'm seeing thing, is it?" I swipe my head from side to side to get the blood out of my eyes. I look up at the angel, but she says nothing, just continues to smoke her cigarette. So I just kept talking. "I'm no brain surgeon, but I'm smart enough to know it when I'm crazy. Right now I'm probably lying in a gutter someplace talkin' to myself. All I know for sure is I don't know nothing about nothing. But I don't care because if you can't trust what you see there's no call to take anything seriously." I stopped to take a look around the room. There were several other girls, hookers from the looks of them, standing around. "Who the hell are they?" I asked Red.

"Bastard!" she answered me and pistol-whipped me in the face. The butt of the gun smacked off my skull with a loud crack. I saw stars for a minute then started to laugh. Nothing was funny; in fact my face was really starting to hurt. But I found the fact that my angel had shot me, tied me up, and was beating the shit out of me to be hilarious.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" my laughter grew louder and grimmer. One of the girls was sitting backwards on a chair besides me. She was young, probably not even 20 yet, had bright blue eyes, and at least a dozen crosses hanging from her neck. She cringed at the sound of my laughter.

"He's crazy," she whispered.

Another girl stood up. Her flowing white hair was a drastic contrast to her flawless coffee skin. She was a wearing black leather bondage outfit, clearly designed to leave little to the imagination. Pure sexiness and attitude radiated off her in waves. She smiled at my laughter and her slightly younger companion's uneasiness.

"Relax Kitty. He's just trying to mess with us. Hit him again, Jean," she said. "Harder."

The pistol came down again. This time is wasn't the wooden butt that hit me; it was the cold steel barrel across the bridge of my nose. I heard the cartilage crack and then re-crack as my healing factor fixed it immediately. I laughed again.

"You know, you shouldn't ought to hit me that way, Red. With the barrel I mean. You'll knick it out of whack and the gun'll be useless," I tell her. "If you're going to pistol-whip somebody, do it right and use the handle like you did the first time."

KRACK!

She didn't listen to me. She hit me with the barrel again; this time in the temple.

"Wait a minute," I said, interrupting her next swing. "Why did she call you Jean?"

Red leaned in close, got right in my face. "Because that's my name, you ape. Red was my sister," she explained. Her voice was dripping venom and hatred for me. "My twin sister."

"I guess she was the nice one," I grumbled.

A new fire ignited in Red's, no Jean's eyes and she started hitting me again. The pistol came down across my face, then back across the other side, and then across my nose again. I spit up a wad of blood when she backed off.

Red and the other six—where are they?" she asked. "What did you do to them?"

So that's what all this is about. The dames that Toad killed. And these damn hookers thought it was me. I shook my and glared up at Jean.

"You crazy goddamn broad. Just take a look at this mug," I growled. "Would any of you dames let me get close enough to you to kill you?" I didn't give her a chance to answer. "None of you would, but Red. And she only did because she thought I could protect her." Jean rolled her eyes at me. She didn't believe a word I was sayin'. So I began to really lay it on her.

"And I bet those cops didn't do a damn thing about those other girls, did they? Damn straight they didn't. But as soon as they had me for a fall guy, they showed up, guns blazing. But they didn't get me, and I've been killing my way to the truth ever since."

I looked her dead in the eye and gave her my best death glare. "So, go ahead, doll. Shoot me now, or get the hell out of my way."

Jean raised the pistol and cocked the hammer back. I didn't even blink. I just glared into her eyes. Kitty sat up in her chair, she eyes filled with fear. The bondage queen grinned in anticipation. I don't think she likes me.

Jean keeps her pistol leveled at me for another moment before slowly easing back the hammer and lowering the gun.

"Aw, nuts," complained the Lil' Miss Bondage.

"Ok," I said cheerfully. "I'm glad we got all that sorted out." I raised my arms and easily tossed off the thick ropes that were "holding me down."

"What the hell?" exclaimed Jean.

"I tied those knots!" cried Bondage girl in disbelief. "That's my specialty!"

I stood up and stretched my tired muscles. Jean stared at me like I suddenly grew a second head or something. "You sat there and took it," she said. "You could've taken my gun away from me any time you wanted to."

I took a cigar out of my pocket and sparked a match. "Well, sure," I said. "I thought I might be able to talk some sense into you. And I probably would have had to paste you one, and I don't hurt girls.

-X-

I excused myself and walked into the bathroom. I hunch over the sink and stare at my reflection in the mirror. Urgh. Even I think I look like shit. I wipe the blood off and I take a deep breath and I take a good long look at the monster in the mirror.

"Don't screw up this time, Logan," I say to myself. "It's too important. Right now, while you're alone, feel the fear and get past it. Go ahead. Shake like a junkie. Let your heart crawl up into your throat. Let your stomach squeeze itself into a gold ball, into one of those black holes that sucks everything into it. Think about dying. Think hard. Picture it. Something quick, something painless, if you're lucky."

I sigh heavily and hang my head against the cool surface of the mirror. I'm just foolin' myself. I know what I have to do and I know exactly how it's going to end. It's going to be a long, bad joke of a trail and a longer wait in a cell until they strap you into that chair and a million volts send you straight to hell and they'll call you a psycho killer who got what was coming to him.

Picture that. Feel it. Get used to it. Then put it back inside where it belongs. You've got some people to kill, people who really deserve it. And if you do it right you it wont matter what anybody says. You'll go to the grave a winner.

"Yeah right," I mutter to my reflection. I throw up a couple of times and then I'm ready.

-X-

I went back to the girls, grabbed my coat and hatchet off the floor. I slung on my coat and started to tie the belt, when I realized all three girls were starring at me. I tried my hardest to ignore them.

"I need a pair of handcuffs," I gruffly demand.

"What style you want?" asks the Bondage girl. "I got a collection."

No surprise there.

"Just give him the ones you've got with you, Ororo," said jean impatiently as she put on her own coat. Ororo shrugged and pouted, but handed over the silver cuffs she had clipped to her skimpy leathers.

"Let's go," said Jean and we headed down to her car. I smiled when I saw it. The front end was still banged up from her hit-and-run attack on me the other night.

-X-

I try not to look at her too much while she drives. It makes it worse when I do. But when I close my eyes for too long it happens anyway. I get confused and start thinkin' she's Red. She's got the smell and the voice just like she's got the looks. Everything's telling me she's Red and I have to keep reminding myself she isn't. Red's dead and the angel sitting next to me, she's Jean. Red's twin sister.

And she's one tough bird. She's bounced me around a parking lot with her cute little Porsche. She's shot me and pistol-whipped the hell out of me and it took some fast-talking to keep her from putting a bullet in my brainpan, squish.

"She's Jean, red's twin sister.

I can't let myself get confused about that.

"It was a farm boy named Toad who killed Red," I said, trying to break the uneasy silence between us. "Never seen anything like him. Knocked me flat. But it's Xavier who's behind it and I don't know why."

"Xavier. No kidding," replied Jean in disbelief.

"I know that sounds crazy," I tell her, but mostly I just said it to reassure myself.

"No, it doesn't. Red worked the clergy."

"Red worked the clergy..." Just like that a whopper of a puzzle piece falls smack in my lap. I'm too dumb to put the whole picture together yet but…

But she fires up two cigarettes and hands me one and I taste her lipstick on it and suddenly my hearts pounding so loud I cant hear anything else. I want to cry and I want to laugh at the craziness of it all. But mostly I want to reach over and touch her and taste Red's sweat one more time.

But she isn't Red.

Jean's driving was something to be desired. She ran every light and road sign on the road. She was weaving through cars like a downhill skier, pissing off every driver on the road. She took a hill at close to 90 mph and jumped over another car, scraping against the roof on the way down.

I saw her mouth moving, but couldn't hear a word over the endless honking and screeching of tires behind us. "…Did you saying something, Jean?"

"She was my sister. I loved her. So I'm in this to the end," she said seriously. But why you? Why are you willing to go up against Xavier for somebody you barely knew?" she asked.

"She was nice to me," I said simply.

"She was desperate. She needed protection and knew how to keep you around. It didn't work out. You don't owe her anything," argued Jean.

"She was nice to me. She gave me something I didn't know existed. She was kind to me when she didn't need to be and that's something I've never had in as long as I can remember. My whole life people been usin' me, treatin' me like a weapon or an animal. But she treated me like a man, a real human being, and I'll always owe her for that."

Jean just stared at me with a new light in her eyes. I knew she had only thought of me as a thug, a weapon, an animal. Jean was beginning to see the man beneath the Wolverine. I smiled a bit at that. Maybe she was more like Red than I thought.

I took a drag off the cigarette and looked off at the brightening horizon. "The sun's coming up. We better get out of sight. I know a place. It's a dive but they keep their mouths shit. Take El Redondo to the Bridge.

"Yes, Logan."

Author's notes:

Shout-outs for all my reviewers!

PoisonRogue: I'm glad to have created an addiction as powerful as drugs, booze, chocolate, etc. Thank you for enjoying my writing so much. I'll try to satisfy your addiction by updating often. Either that or you'll have to start paying me for your "fix."

The Frog Prince of Crime:Love your pen name. As for Phoenix, you're gonna see some flames in the next chapter. I'm not planning on using Ol' Bucket Head for a little while so you're going to have to wait on him. Keep reading and watch for him.

Coldqueen: I'm honored that this is officially your favorite story. Keep on reading. I'm going to do "The Big Fat Kill" with Dwight (Remy) and the girls next so stick around for that. Keep reviewing too, send me some suggestions on what you like and what I should include.

mazdamiatta:Glad you like the fic. I've been reading your "Xavier Rehabilitation Center for Gifted Youngsters" fic and I like it alot. Keep it up and keep reading and reviewing.

Raven Eyes1: Sorry but I had to have Sabretooth and Logan clash. It wouldn't be right if they didn't. The Marvel Gods would have come down and smited me with bolts of lightning if I didn't.

Tokyo Fox: Well, i'm glad you like my story despite hating SIN CITY in general. I hope you still are reading my fic and I hope you give me some more feedback on what you think.

CatLadyinTraining: When do you get to be a full Cat Lady? I'm glad you like my crossover idea. Keep reading and keep reviewing.

Etienne: Great minds think alike it seems. Scott-Hartigan and Emma-Nancy were natural choices, as was Logan-Marv and Jean-Goldie/Wendy. Some of the others I've had to think hard about. Let me know if you have any ideas for others.

MEGAN: Glad you like the story. Sorry, but I have no idea who Pete Wisdom is, so I don't see a love triangle working out.

MIke: glad you loved the story. I considered Nightcrawler for Kevin's role, but I thought Toad was a more disgusting and creepy choice. Plus Nightcrawler was perfect for the priest since he is the most spiritual character. Give me some more feedback.

Shockgoddess: Dwight and the girls is coming up in a few more chapters. It seems everybody is waiting on them so I'm going to get on that soon.

everwing: Glad you like the Sin City/ X-Men combo.

Old Slumber: Well, Angel made another apperance and will pop in for a bit every now and then. Maybe I'll break out the ol' steel bladed wings of Archangel.

FUCKtheFCC: great name. I happen to agree with you there. Glad you like the fic, keep on reading.

Simba317: Glad I have you intrigued, but I'm still waiting on that long review. Now you've got me intrigued.

I thank you all for your reviews and I can only say that I want more. Reviews are a writers bread and butter and they keep me going, keep me writing. Without you, the readers, this story means nothing. Thank you very much for your reviews.

Nataku's Wrath