Chapter 3.
I was cruisin' aimlessly through the town, just gettin' a feel for the place. It was serious nighttime by now, so the streets were pretty deserted an' that's always the best time to do a little recon on unfamiliar turf. There's a lot less chance that you'll be seen an' since I was new here, it wouldn't be out o' place even if I were to be pulled over by a curious cop. However, I assumed there wouldn't be many police on patrol in a town this small an' I was right. In two hours, I only saw one patrol car an' it passed me without so much as a glance.
This town was much like every other small town that I'd been through. I tended to stay in ones even smaller than this, just places on the road for long-haul truckers an' other migrant types to rest for a few days between jobs an' those mostly in Canada. Anything larger usually had a police presence that I tried to avoid, but since Stryker was long gone, the feelin' of constant pursuit that I'd had for so long was fading. I know in the back of my mind that there has to be other people out there that know who an' what I am, but I ain't runnin' from 'em anymore. They want me, they can come find me. It doesn't mean they'll get me.
The streets were laid out in your basic grid pattern an' there wasn't really a "bad" neighborhood. It was like this whole town was a Midwestern subdivision that had been plucked out o' Bumfuck, Ohio an' came to rest here on the central California coast. I'm sure I woulda been stir crazy within the first five minutes if I knew for a fact I'd be stayin' here the rest o' my life, but since I was just visitin' I figured I'd be all right. It seemed to be a very nice town, but I kept havin' the eerie feelin' that I was bein' watched. I looked 'round as I rode, but I never caught another person anywhere within sight or scent o' me. I knew I couldn't rely on hearing over the sound o' my motorcycle, but it was really startin' to creep me out. I made up my mind to ignore it as best as I could til I could get a bead on it.
There were few houses with lights or televisions on at this time of night, which didn't overly surprise me. It woulda been creepy in a larger town, but it's par for the course in these smaller ones. I made my way back towards where I'd come into town, figurin' I could use the gas an' grab somethin' to eat besides the beef jerky snack I'd had earlier. I would need both types of fuel if I was gonna find that base before the end o' the century. I decided to use the other gas station this time, since the gas was a penny cheaper (gotta save what you can with prices bein' the way they are these days). Once I finished that task, I pulled into one of the fast food places an' ordered enough food to last me til morning. I don't normally like to eat in those places, everythin' tastes over-processed, but I didn't see anythin' like a real restaurant or even a mom-an'-pop diner still open at this time of night.
I took my food outside an' ate at a table that was chained to a tree in the grassy area near the parking lot. It felt like the night had gotten as cool as it was gonna get, so I lingered there a bit, sippin' my soft drink an' smokin' a cigar. I wondered absently if anyone in there had made an abrupt phone call to someone as soon as I left, but I didn't worry 'bout it too much. Sometimes, bein' what I am, I feel like a freak among other freaks anyway an' if these small-town assholes wanted ta gossip about me, that was fine. As long as I didn't get too much unwanted attention from anyone over it.
I finally decided to get movin' again an' cruised back in the vague direction of my motel, but instead of goin' back there, I rode through what passed as "downtown" in this place. It wasn't much, just a small collection o' boutiques an' souvenir shops for the real tourists, a surfing gear shop, the expected mom-an'-pop restaurant, a bank an' not much else. A few blocks later, I came to what looked like the high school, complete with baseball an' football fields. Again, it coulda been any school anywhere in the country. It probably smelled just like all the others do. I think it's somethin' they put in the floor polish to make 'em all smell the same. I took a right, goin' past the school an' saw a few lights on inside. Probably just the janitorial staff doin' its job. The school fell behind me an' I was once again in a residential area. I took the next left an' continued my aimless ridin'.
About twenty minutes later, I decided to pull over for a few minutes, get the blood goin' in my legs an' have a smoke when I felt like someone was watchin' me again. I slowed my bike to a speed just fast enough to stay upright an' scented the air, but I didn't smell anythin' out o' place. Lucky for me, there was a stop sign, so I used the opportunity to take a look 'round, but that wasn't helpful either. My vision is just as good at night as it is in full daylight, but I didn't see anythin' lurkin' in any o' the shadows in my immediate area. I decided to nix the smoke idea an' turned right at the intersection, keepin' the speed legal. After 'bout ten minutes, I had just about decided that maybe it had been my imagination when somethin' darted out in the road in front o' me. The limit on this street was thirty-five, but I was so surprised by the appearance of somethin' that fast that I hit the brakes a little too hard, flew over the handlebars an' slid at least twenty feet down the road. I was a little stunned an' my nose felt broken, but my healin' factor was already workin' on the road rash on my hands an' face. Before I could sit up, I heard the sound o' feet behind me. I thought it might be a good Samaritan comin' up to see if I was all right, so I was surprised when I saw…a monkey.
It looked just like a regular rhesus monkey, maybe a little on the large size for the species. I raised my head to get a good look at it, then started to get myself in a sittin' position. That was my first clue that this wasn't a normal monkey, because the rhesus can be skittish an' this guy didn't even move a muscle. In fact, he sat there givin' me a serious once-over. I finally got myself seated when another sound caught my attention: a bike chain an' what sounded like claws on pavement, comin' in fast. A second later, I heard barking (confirmin' the claws) followed by a pretty mean snarl. The monkey an' I both looked in the direction of the sound an' my little friend did the strangest thing. He made a sound somewhere between a human scream an' an angry growl an' took off runnin' in the opposite direction. I tried to stand to pursue him, but a hand on my shoulder pushed me back to the pavement. It took a great deal o' effort not to shove it away, but I managed.
"Jesus, pal, are you ok?" The man asked. I looked up at him an' was a little taken aback. He was about my height with blond hair, dressed all in black including gloves an' sunglasses. Wait, sunglasses? In the middle o' the night? What the hell is that about?
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just give me a minute." I turned away from him as I felt my nose beginnin' to right itself an' the last thing I needed was some small-town mutant witch huntin'. I heard the guy lean his bike against a nearby tree an' come back. As he approached, I detected some oddities about his scent. Underneath the normal human scent, I smelled coconut (suntan lotion?), gun oil an'…somethin' else. It eluded me for a bit until it clicked. This guy had no scent o' sun on him. For those who don't realize it, the sun affects your body chemistry in very subtle ways. Even if you're not one o' those crazy sun-worshippers who try to bake themselves into shoe leather, it still burns you a little bit. It's the same with your hair. But if this guy had seen the sun in the past twenty years or so, I'd have been extremely surprised. Finally, my nose finished healin' an' I turned to him. "Didn't think there'd be any nightowls 'round here." I said.
He sighed heavily. "No, not many. Mostly it's just the two of us." He nodded to the dog.
"Ah, daytime's overrated anyway. Too damn many people out." I looked around for the monkey, but it was long gone. "Where'd our friend go? He all right?"
He shrugged. "Hell if I know. But shit man, how are you? I saw you dump your bike, are you okay?"
I nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Skull's made out o' steel, I swear." Ok, adamantium, but close enough.
"Weren't you bleeding a minute ago? I could have sworn you were bleeding." About then, a black Labrador mix came over to him an' sat down. As with the monkey, I got the same feelin' of being scrutinized from the dog, but with less hostility.
"I dunno, maybe my nose a little bit." I reached up an' felt my forehead. Shit, there was a pretty good streak o' blood on it, probably from a cut I didn't feel 'cause healin' a broken nose hurts like a bitch. As I did that, the dog took a step towards me an' sniffed for a few seconds before sittin' back down an' giving a chuff.
"Hm. Still, why don't you come to my house, get some of that blood off you. It's not that far, just a couple doors down."
I weighed my options here. I couldn't just pretend like I hadn't had an accident, 'cause he'd seen it. Also, this guy here had seen the monkey an' the dog had gone out o' its way to scare it off for some reason. That made me think back to what Xavier had said 'bout a troop o' monkeys that had escaped Fort Wyvern an' taken somethin' out with 'em. Could that have been one of 'em? "Sure, why not?" I said, gettin' to my feet an' actin' a lot shakier than I actually felt. "So, what's the story with the monkey? Someone's pet get away?"
The man smiled bitterly an' shook his head. "No, nothing that simple." He said cryptically an' went to retrieve his bike. I walked back an' righted the motorcycle, once again marveling that Summers had built this thing to take abuse. What, did he have a touch o' psychic himself? Did he know that it was gonna be stolen by someone with a history o' gettin' hurt in a variety of ways? I decided to walk the bike so this guy could keep up with me, so I wheeled it over to where he an' the dog were waitin'.
"That's a nice mutt you got there. What's his name?" I asked.
"This is Orson. He's more like family to me than a pet. He's kind of…special." What was with this guy an' the cryptic? "I'm Chris." He held out his hand an' I shook it.
"Logan. Just here for vacation. Didn't expect wild monkeys." We started walkin'. "So, they here for atmosphere or was there a mass defection from a zoo or somethin'?"
Again he smiled bitterly. "No, not a zoo, but they are escapees of a sort." He sighed. "It's just a really long story is all."
I nodded. "Fair enough." I followed him as he turned up a driveway to a very nice lookin' Craftsmen-style house with trees crowdin' the front yard. I noticed that all the shades were drawn, which was odd even for California. Most people like to be able to see out, even if it means everyone else can see in, but this guy seemed to live like a hermit. He looked vaguely familiar, but nothin' about him stood out in my living memory. I compared his face to those I'd seen in the dream that brought me here, but he didn't match any o' those people either. Curiosity finally won out. "Hey, ya look familiar. Ya ever get out ta New York?"
He chuckled an' it came out soundin' bitter. What the hell's with this guy an' all the bitter? An' I thought I was cynical. "No, never. I've never left Moonlight Bay in my entire life." That brought me up short an' he chuckled again. "But you might have seen me in Time magazine a few years ago." He opened the door an' the dog went in ahead of us. He stopped in the entry an' lit a candle, preceding me through the house an' lightin' at least one in every room. I hung back a little to let my eyes adjust an' took a look around. Hangin' on the wall was a photo that had been taken when he was just a toddler. It was a family portrait, him with his parents, but what shocked me was the fact that he was sittin' on the lap o' someone I knew. It was Dr. Snow from Fort Wyvern all those years ago. I stared at it for a long moment, more than a little shocked, then turned to follow him into the kitchen. When I did, I saw I was starin' down the barrel o' a Glock 9-millimeter.
"Who the fuck are you and how did you know my mother?" He asked.
AN: Hehehehehe...cliffie...:) But not the first one, i promise...yeah, i'm evil...but ya love me anyway...:) (or at least like me enough to keep reading!) Special thanks to Zac for beta reading, such as it is...it's really more like hand-holding, since this is my first crossover and he's the only person i know who's read the books that spawned most of the characters Logan will be dealing with...But my Super Swanky Special thanks go to my reviewers, who were Dee (MidLifeCrisis...if you haven't read her stories, you really should!), Levanna and Tahlmorra...now, if you're reading and haven't reviewed, please do! I can't promise an immediate update like i do with my main series, but i do like to hear from new people...it just make me happy...:) I'll try to have the next update out in a week to ten days max, i still have some kinks to work out...:) Like finishing the story...:)
Also, i previously reported that i started a Yahoo! group to send out alerts for my stories because the alert system here wasn't working...that will remain in place, since we all know the alert system will go down again...it's only a matter of time...so, if you'd like to join, the address is http://movies.groups. or you can send an email to instead...i may even post teasers of my other stories as well...:) Lastly, if there's enough interest, we can use the list to discuss not just my stories, but yours as well! Get tips on writing, finding a good beta reader or just talk about the X-Men movies/comics/cartoons or heck, just chatter away...:) But no matter what, i will keep it there for the next time the alerts here stop working...hope to see you there!