Thunderbird spent his time waxing poetical about how they just needed to communicate with the governments of the world, and then they could all play happy, happy families again.

Andy didn't believe it.

Thunderbird was a fucking liar.

"Do you really think people would accept us after what happened?" he asked.

"That was a small group of mutants-"

"Who ended the fucking world," Andy snarled.

Lauren rubbed her shoulder again, and for a moment he could have sworn he felt her ghostly pains.

His point was proven when Thunderbird woke them all up in the middle of the night.

"What is it?" James grumbled.

"Vans. Two of them. Nearby."

And suddenly they were all very, very awake.

"How nearby?"

"A mile or so."

James glanced round at the little group, the pale faces. "Start packing up."

"What?" snapped Polaris.

"We're leaving."

"You're going to leave this place? I thought this was your home!"

"We've lost people to the soldiers in the past. We're not losing anyone else."

"You won't have to. We can talk to them," Dreamer insisted.

"And when they start shooting?"

Polaris scowled. "Then they're the aggressors and we can protect ourselves."

"Absolutely not. We're not fighters; we're only trying to survive. If you lot thought we were going to be your own private military, you're sorely mistaken. I have children to think about."

They packed up the trucks with the essentials and climbed in. It hurt a little, leaving this place they'd built up into a home, but-

The soldiers didn't care about that.

The soldiers cared that they were mutants, muties, freaks.

The soldiers cared that they could shoot them.

They pulled out onto the track and were barely halfway up it when the large armoured van turned the corner.