Donald Pierce was running for his life.
The man who was normally so good at keeping his cool was utterly terrified.
He didn't dare look over his shoulder. He kept running. Breath coming in short gasps, his eyes fixed on the gate exiting the Weapon X facility.
The warning bells and flashing lights were both deafening and blinding.
What the hell had happened back there?
He didn't know. He hadn't really had time to process it.
Now he leapt at the wire fence, scrabbling to climb up the wire netting, not caring about cutting himself.
Beside him were three more men, all desperate, all scared. Scared wasn't even the right word…there was no word to describe it.
Donald swallowed and blinked, everything was going foggy…
No. He couldn't lose focus! Keep going. Or else he'd end up like the men back inside…dead, slaughtered before a scream could erupt from their mouths.
….
He'd stood there on the balcony as Aldo Ferro's body slumped to the floor, the men were in a bustle, then someone declared him dead.
Dead? Dead?!
"How?!"
Donald ran down the stairs, demanding to check for himself.
No one looked behind them, no one paid attention to the patient on the table.
Until it was smashed into pieces.
A low, blood-chilling snarl came from behind.
One man spun to look, eyes widening and mouth open to warn but the words never came from his mouth.
Donald was frozen, watching scarlet, sticky blood drip from shining claws to the floor. His eyes slowly travelled up to meet the Wolverine' gaze. Dark, blood thirsty.
His lips quivered, his hands started to shake. Then he managed to snap free, backing up hastily toward the stairs. "Someone shoot him! This is a Code 9! CODE 9!"
The sirens sounded, gates slammed shut, lights flashed.
He ran up the stairs to the men in the office, bursting through the doors. "Someone tell me how he broke free of adamantium restraints?!"
The men at the desk were pale, eyes unable to move from the scene below. No matter how gruesome. Blood flew and splattered across the glass window.
Donald flinched.
"The table…sir…it wasn't…"
"It wasn't adamantium." Donald's voice was low, almost shaking. With anger or fear…maybe both. "What the hell were you thinking?!"
He turned his gaze to the scene below, knuckles white as they gripped the desk.
A body was flung across the room, bodies lay strewn on the slick floor, ragdolls with white coats.
None of their weapons were working. He was healing. Fast.
Donald swore under his breath. "We're all gonna die."
…..
They made it over the gate and ran through the trees, Donald could hear his heart pounding and pulse roaring.
Keep running. Don't look back.
A shadow in the corner of his eye. One of the men was dragged into the darkness, his scream cut off.
Keep running. Don't look back!
Donald put on a burst of speed. A man behind him stumbles over a tree root. A terrified cry. Blood splattered.
Keep running…don't look back!
Just two. Two of them left.
Donald blinked, sweat dripping down his face.
Adamantium restraints and table…was it really that hard?!
His eyes darted to the bushes and trees around them.
It had gone quiet. Too quiet. Where had Aaron gone?
He slowed, heart pounding, hardly able to breathe. His fingers shakily moved to his belt were the gun was kept.
His eyes scanned the shadows. A small breeze ruffled the leaves and branches but other than that, not a sound.
He swallowed and turned—
He staggered back, grabbing his gun and pointing it at the figure crouched in the shadows, eyes gleaming.
"l-Logan…" His mouth was quivering. "Hey…we can work this out, right? Y-you know we were only t-trying to…h-help." He started to back up faster. "Must be nice…h-having your healing factor back…" his back hit the rough bark of a tree.
Donald Pierce's body slumped to the ground.