Chapter 8.

"Well Major, you've really impressed everyone here with your talents," Dr. Snow said as she sat down across from me. "Now, I have a few questions I'd like to ask about your healing factor."

"Save your breath, doctor," I replied as I lit a cigar. "I heal fast from everythin', I don't get sick an' most toxins don't work on me. In fact, if ya find a drug or a poison I haven't been exposed to, it'll only work once at regular strength. It adapts to everythin' eventually."

"I see." She made a few more notes on that clipboard o' hers, then looked back at me. "Do you know if it has any effect on genetic anomalies?"

I snorted bitterly. "Lady, I am a genetic anomaly, or did ya forget that already?"

"Major, regardless of what the popular opinion on mutation may be, I do not look at you that way. Genetic mutations have been occurring for decades, which you are living proof of. But the sad truth is that most genetic mutations are not nearly as kind as the ones that those who are referred to as 'mutants' have. By definition, a person who is considered an albino is a mutant, for example, but there's no explaining that to most people."

"Most albinos don't have claws or read minds either," I pointed out. "Back in the middle ages, people born with extra fingers an' toes were considered evil an' the babies killed, but now we know it's just a mutation."

"Exactly my point." She leaned forward an' put her clipboard on the table between us. "Did you know that about a tenth of a percent of all babies are born with one or both of their small toes underdeveloped or simply missing? Some doctors consider it a birth defect, but my research indicates that it's simply part of the evolutionary process. I could cut the small toes off of everyone stationed at this base and it wouldn't have any adverse affects to their ability to stand or walk. It's an unnecessary appendage and we are starting to get rid of it. Now, I haven't done much research into mutation as a whole, but just as we had an evolutionary leap thousands of years ago that eventually allowed us to become homo sapiens in the first place, there is no reason to believe that the X gene is anything other than another leap."

"Look, I get what you're sayin', but it don't change the fact that mutants will always be considered monsters to most o' you normal humans."

"But not to me." She folded her hands an' took a deep breath like she was steelin' herself for what she was about to say. "Major, you have a remarkable gift. I believe that it may be possible to isolate your healing factor and use it to generate cures for diseases that are currently incurable, even those that are caused by genetic anomalies. If possible, I would like your permission to try doing just that."

I let out a long stream of smoke an' stubbed out my cigar. For a hundred years, I'd felt like some kinda monster, this thing that was more animal than man half the time, all instinct an' rage. This healin' factor had kept me alive way past when I shoulda been worm food an' it always felt like a kind o' curse, somethin' that wouldn't let me die even when I wanted to. Now, for the first time in a century, I had someone lookin' at me not like a freak, not like a monster, but like someone who could save more people than I'll ever know, no matter how long I lived. For the first time, it didn't feel like a curse. "Dr. Snow, if you think ya got a chance in hell o' makin' it work, go for it. Ain't like it could hurt anyone, right?"

"Thank you, Major. I promise, you won't regret this."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I woke up sweatin' bullets, a sick feelin' in the pit o' my stomach. Dr. Wisteria Snow, Chris's mom, had no idea what she was talkin' about back then. I was a fool to think that anyone connected with the military would ever use any part o' me for somethin' good. But in her defense, she didn't know what would happen then, she couldn't have known. But that's the problem with most doctors – they like to play god, even though they're only human.

I threw the covers off me an' went to take a shower. I'd only been asleep about five hours, which is somethin' of a miracle for me, but I couldn't stand the smell o' myself anymore. Besides, I was a little shaken up over that conversation I'd just remembered. An' there was the part where I didn't know if I should say anythin' to Chris about it. That memory was all the proof I needed that she was really tryin' to help her son, tryin' to find a way to give him a life that he could live in the light. But the fact remained that she'd unknowingly been the architect o' destruction an' I was the main building block. To say it made me feel sick is a major understatement.

I stood in the shower til the water started to get too cold, even for me, an' I still hadn't made up my mind what I should tell him. Dr. Snow had had the best o' intentions, creatin' that virus to cure her son an' who knows how many other people, but it sent her to hell all the same. I shut off the water an' wrapped one o' the scratchy motel towels around my waist. When I got back into the main part o' the room, I had the strangest feelin' that I was bein' watched. I pulled on a pair o' clean boxers an' proceeded to search every inch o' the place an' I didn't find anythin' like a bug or a camera, but I couldn't shake the feelin'. I chanced a peek out the window an' I didn't see anythin' right away, but a second later somethin' jumped up on the narrow sill on the outside an' I leaped back from the window.

I slid my claws out slowly on my right hand to minimize the noise an' peeked out again, suddenly afraid it might be one o' those homicidal monkeys, but sittin' there, neat as ya please, was a pale gray cat. It stared at me for a long moment before pawin' at the glass an' jumpin' down. I craned my head to see where it went, but it was long gone. I shook my head an' let the curtain fall back into place; Orson made me believe in really smart dogs an' Big Head proved the really smart monkey theory, but a really smart cat? I just wasn't ready to believe in that.

More fool me. I finished gettin' dressed an' opened the door to leave. As I stepped out, my foot came down on somethin'. I stepped back an' bent down, then picked up the laminated card that was sittin' there. The name on it read "Colonel Mitchell Barton" an' sure enough, there was a picture o' ol' Old Spice Barton himself on it. At the bottom was a bar code an' a magnetic stripe with a number was the only thing on the back. Damned if that cat hadn't given me just what I would need to move through the active parts o' the base freely. The world had been a weird enough place without all o' this, but this town had its own special corner on the weird market. I shook my head an' smiled, shovin' the key card in my jacket pocket. I locked the door behind me, got on my bike an' took off.

I rode around aimlessly for a while, tryin' to get a feel for the town itself. Everywhere from one stoplight villages to huge cities has its own general atmosphere, a strange combination o' the people who live there, the places they work an' the way it's set up. Moonlight Bay felt almost artificial, a façade to hide a deeper problem. The people seemed to have a kind o' wariness 'bout them that one usually doesn't find in small towns. You have to expect a certain amount, since most towns this size tend to be close knit, an "everyone knows everyone else" kinda thing, so outsiders are usually viewed with some caution. But this was different, nothin' I could really put my finger on, but there all the same. I woulda thought a town that gets a pretty decent tourist trade in surfers if nothin' else would be a little less hesitant 'bout a stranger in town, but maybe the fact that I am obviously not a surfer added to the strange looks I got everywhere I went. Or maybe it's just 'cause I'm paranoid.

I finally got hungry an' stopped at a diner I'd noticed the night before. The waitress looked the same as dozens o' others that work at small diners like this, with carrot colored hair piled on top o' her head, pale blue uniform, crackin' a piece o' gum like it was goin' outta style. She brought me a glass o' water an' a menu. "Just holler when you're ready to order honey," she said with a wink. I just nodded an' she went away. I was lookin' over the menu when the cell phone in my pocket chirped loudly. I scowled an' pulled it out. "Yeah?" I said, annoyed.

"Is that any way to answer the phone?" Marie chided. "Didn't your mother teach you any manners?"

I grinned. "I don't know, kid, I don't remember her." I noticed the waitress lookin' over at me, so I turned away an' lowered my voice. "Is somethin' wrong?"

"No, I was just checkin' to see if you'd gotten in trouble yet."

I rolled my eyes an' sighed. "An' why would you think I'd get in trouble in the first place?"

"Logan, get real." I could almost hear her rollin' her eyes. "This is you we're talkin' about. If you ain't lookin' for trouble, then it's lookin' for you."

"Hey now! That ain't entirely true."

"Hmm, let me go through some of these bits of you I have floatin' around in my head and then we'll see."

I groaned. "Forget it kid. You don't wanna see more'n you already have."

"Yeah, you're probably right." I heard someone in the background, Kitty I think, tellin' her it was her turn in the bathroom. "Whoops, I gotta go."

"Sure thing kid. An' Rogue?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't call me unless it's an emergency, all right? It ain't that I don't wanna talk to ya, it's just I might be somewhere that I can't talk, okay?" Or where a cell phone ringin' might give me away, but I didn't say that part out loud.

She sighed an' I thought she was gonna argue with me, but surprised me when she didn't. "All right, I won't. But you promise me you'll call the Professor if ya need help or somethin', all right? Let us help you if we can."

"I ain't gonna need help, Rogue."

"You don't know that! Who knows what'll happen if you find what you're lookin' for out there?"

"All right, if it'll make ya feel better, I'll call if I run into anythin' I can't handle myself."

"Good. I gotta run. Take care Logan."

"You too kid." I closed the phone an' stuck it back in my pocket with a shake o' my head. There was no way I was gonna call the X-Men for any reason on this one. For one thing, I didn't need the help. For another, I really didn't wanna expose 'em to whatever this virus was out here. I didn't know if it was airborne or not, so better safe than sorry in my mind.

The waitress wandered back over to take my order, then brought my drink a minute later. I sat back in the booth, keepin' one eye on the diner, the other out the window to watch the people out there. From in here, it almost looked normal, but I still had that naggin' feelin' that it was all a pose. Maybe most o' the people in this town had no idea that they lived at ground zero of some nasty shit, but I seriously doubted that Chris an' Bobby were the only ones who knew everythin'. The trick would be findin' someone else willin' to talk to me 'bout it.

My food arrived a few minutes later an' I dug in, lettin' my attention wander from people watchin'. I glanced up whenever I heard the bell over the door ring, which wasn't often, but I dismissed everyone until the third time it happened. I was nearly done with my Western omelet when a couple uniformed cops came wanderin' in, sittin' down at the counter just a few feet from my booth. They spared a long glance at me before turnin' to the waitress behind the counter to place their own orders an' I kept half an ear turned to 'em, but kept my attention on my own plate. If they didn't fuck with me, I wouldn't fuck with them. I don't like cops at the best o' times, but I don't go outta my way to tangle with 'em either. I counted the seconds til they decided to question the new face in town an' they set a landspeed record. Took 'em ten whole seconds.

They turned as one to face me an' the one on the left, a big Hispanic guy with the name "Ramirez" on his nametag, spoke first. "You're new in town."

I looked up with a scowl. "You talkin' to me?"

"Yeah, I'm talking to you. What're you here for?"

"Vacation."

"Hm. Where you from?"

I shoved my empty plate aside an' picked up my soda. "Canada."

"I see. That your bike out there?"

"Yeah it is, why?"

His partner, whose nametag said he was "Feeney" picked up the thread. "If you're Canadian, why's it got New York plates?"

"That's where I'm livin' now."

"And what do you do out there in New York?"

I reached into my pocket, retrieved my wallet an' threw some money on the table before standin' up. "I'm a teacher," I said an' managed to do so with a straight face.

The two cops looked at each other an' Feeney snorted, but it was Ramirez who spoke. "You don't look like a teacher."

"Yeah well, we come in all shapes an' sizes nowadays." I went to move past 'em, but Feeney suddenly stood, blockin' my path. "Is there a problem officer?" I asked, just a hint o' growl in my voice.

"I don't know," he replied, pullin' himself up to his full height, which was still a few inches shorter than me. "Never heard of a teacher that could afford a bike like that."

"I work at a private school," I said, looming over him just a bit. "They pay better."

Ramirez joined his partner an' crossed his arms. "How about we run the plates and see for ourselves?"

"Be my guest," I hissed

The three o' us stood there for a moment, the tension so thick I coulda cut it with my claws, but it was Ramirez who backed down first. "You just watch yourself around here."

I raised an eyebrow. "Is that a threat?" Oh, I really hoped so.

"Call it a friendly warning."

"Right." I shouldered past 'em to the cash register an' paid my bill while the two of 'em sat back down. The waitress gave me a smile an' I turned to leave.

As I pushed the door open, Feeney spoke up again. "We'll be watching you."

I turned back to 'em with a scowl. "Ditto." I shoved my way outta the diner an' walked to my bike. I could feel their eyes on me the whole time an' I resisted the urge to flip 'em off as I rode off. Barely.

I still had a good long time til sundown, at least seven hours, but I couldn't see myself sittin' 'round in my motel room all that time an' this town just wasn't big enough to ride around til then. I headed out to the open highway, hopin' to burn off some o' my anger with speed.

I rode til I was pretty sure I was outta Moonlight Bay's jurisdiction, then found myself a nice open stretch o' highway an' opened her up. I didn't bother with the turbo boost thing that Cyke had installed on the bike – she's pretty fast without it anyway – but I did top out the speedometer on more'n one occasion an' I think I nearly scared a coyote to death when I whizzed past it. I rode like that til the sun was 'bout halfway set before turnin' back towards town. I wanted to get a shower an' some dinner before meetin' up with Chris, Bobby an' their mysterious friends.

When I got back to my motel room, the manager was waitin' outside my door. "Mr. Sharpe, can I talk to you for a minute?"

He seemed a bit edgy, lookin' everywhere but directly at me. "Is there a problem?" Second time I had to ask that in one day an' I was already tired of it.

"The police were here asking about you, they seem to think you might be some kind of drug dealer or something."

I chuckled under my breath. Of all the things I've been mistaken for, this was the first time drug dealer came up. "I promise, I ain't no drug dealer. Drugs are stupid." An' they don't affect me anyway, so what's the point?

"Still, would you mind if I looked around your room a bit? I didn't let them in before, but if I could tell them there was nothing there…" He trailed off, lookin' even more uncomfortable than before.

I had nothin' to hide. At least, nothin' he'd find in the room. "Sure bub, go ahead." I unlocked the door an' he followed me inside. Housekeepin' had been by while I was gone an' the bed was made with almost military precision, fresh towels sittin' on the counter just outside the bathroom. I tossed my keys on the scarred dresser, then sat down on the edge o' the bed while the manager made his inspection. I had no worries that he'd find anythin'; I hadn't smelled any planted drugs or weapons when I walked in, so at least no one was settin' me up. Yet.

He ended his tour in the bathroom an' came out lookin' beyond relieved. "Sorry about that, Mr. Sharpe."

"Hey, no problem. I know how I look." I pulled off my boots an' stood up. "Looks can be deceivin' though, right?"

"Sure thing. Have a good night." He left the room an' I locked the door behind him. I still wasn't sure if this guy was totally on the up an' up, but til I had a little more than a suspicion, I wasn't gonna confront him with anythin'.

I peeled off my clothes, tossin' 'em in a heap on the floor an' went to take my shower. I started the water runnin', but instead o' jumpin' right in, I did a quick sweep o' the room. With everythin' that had happened in the short time I'd been in Moonlight Bay, I wasn't leavin' anythin' to chance anymore. Yeah, the maid had been through, but what guarantee did I have that she hadn't planted somethin' in here anyway, like a bug? Lettin' the water run in the background would help cover any sounds that I made, an' since I was naked, there wouldn't even be the sounds of my clothes rustling to give away my movements. Not for the first time, my paranoia paid off an' I found bugs under the phone, on the lamp an' even one in the drawer that held those Bibles that appear from nowhere. I considered takin' 'em an' flushin' 'em down the toilet, but I paused. I really didn't have this room for anythin' more'n the occasional shower an' nap, so it wasn't like they'd learn anythin' from me. An' if it came down to it, I could probably crash at Chris or Bobby's if I felt my room wasn't safe. I decided to just leave 'em where they were; if they wanted to use 'em to come for me, let 'em come. I wasn't afraid of 'em.

I took my shower an' got dressed again, makin' as much noise as I could. When nothin' happened in half an hour, I left the room an' went to get some dinner at the same diner I'd gone to for breakfast. The sun was just settin' as I finished up, so I set out for Chris' house an' the meeting with these friends that he thought could help us out. I still didn't know if I wanted to involve any more civilians in this thing, but they'd all been to the base an' if Chris an' Bobby were to be believed, they'd had some pretty weird ass shit happen to 'em out there. Maybe they'd be all right, maybe they wouldn't, but it really wasn't my problem. I just wanted to get into that lab an' see what they still had on me. With or without 'em, I didn't care.

AN: Hey everyone...i saw that i had a TON of reviews and thought "holy crap! when was my last update?" So, here it is...:) Thanks everyone for piping up with your thoughts, i really appreciate it! Andromeda Jones: I have NO idea what 300lbs is in kilos! Ummm, a lot:) mychemicalromancefreak29: Thanks for the compliment! You're making me blush:) CaptMacKenzie: Good to see you here! Let's see if i can answer your questions...:) 1) Orson belongs to Dean Koontz...but he's not even Koontz's coolest dog ever! He's in another story...:) Re: Time travel...they didn't know that's what the thing did...in the book, the people at the base invented the device AFTER the plague got out, so they could see what the future would hold...but they screwed up and it didn't just go through time, but space...it's described as "sideways", and isn't really important to the story here, so i'm not bothering with much more than that...:) Re: Logan's DNA and the virus...The animal DNA is actually from the lab animals (dogs and cats mostly, though now that it's gotten out you could add a whole lot more)...the virus itself was supposed to be crippled, but the batch with Logan's DNA in it healed itself...i'll get into a little more with that later...:) Chris trusts Logan because of his mother...Bobby trusts Logan because of Chris...and they both trust Logan because Orson does...remember, "animals know things"...:) Yes, they're trying to find a cure for the plague, but the fact remains that Logan's not always rational when it comes to the people who did what they did to him...also, keep in mind that just because someone SAYS they want to cure it, doesn't mean that's the whole truth...again, more on that later...:) As for drinking beer and blasting the radio, well...that's really how they are...at least the way they seem to me from the books...after all, if YOU knew the world was ending, would you run around all "Oh Lordy!", waving your hands about, or would you try to grab what joy you could before the end? That's Chris and Bobby in a nutshell...:) You should think about picking these books up some time...they're in my top 10 favorites of all time!

That's all for now, please review!