Chapter 5: Alone

Images flashed in her mind. Newspapers blowing down empty streets. Broken glass sparkling in the sunlight on the counter tops in vacant shops. Her heartbeat drummed a steady tattoo in her head, as she searched for some other living soul. She was alone. She felt nothing. Morgan knew this nightmare, she forced herself to awaken.

This one reoccurred for over a year now. It came from the movie, 28 Days Later. She had watched it with Jubilee, Rogue and Kitty down in the Rec Room one night. The girls were scared by the zombies, Morgan was not. Something else had frightened her. Morgan did not sleep well for several nights after seeing the movie. She couldn't imagine anything more terrifying than waking up to a world devoid of people. The images of a bustle metropolis such as London turned into a ghost town shook her to the core. She spent a great deal of time, analyzing why those particular scenes frightened her so much. Morgan determined that, as an empath, she needed a constant stream of emotions flowing through her. It was like her need for oxygen.

She felt nothing. There was nobody left on the earth. She felt nothing. Morgan forced her eyes to open, to truly awaken herself from the nightmare. Her eyes met grey concrete. She still felt nothing, but now she knew that this was not a dream.

Morgan's quickly realized that her wrists were cuffed behind her and secured over her head. Her shoulders ached because they were supporting most of her weight, and had for a long time. She shifted most of her weight to her legs and that alleviated some of the pain. There was something heavy and cold strapped to her head. Morgan felt nothing flowing through her. No one's emotions, no emotional climate at all. She tried to reach out empathically, a searing pain shot through her brain, she cried out. She tried shaking her head in an attempt to jar the contraption loose. It didn't budge. Whatever this thing was, it was preventing her from using her empathy.

Somebody knew.

The position that her body was in, made her feel intensely vulnerable. Even though she could recognize the psychology, her understanding didn't prevent her from reacting emotionally. Morgan's breathing became shallow as she began to panic. Her heart was pounding in her ears, so she tried concentrating on slowing her breathing down; it would do no good if she passed out. Morgan struggled to calm herself.

"Hello?" she whispered. Her voice was raspy from nonuse. How long had she been here? No one answered. She could hear some muffled voices from some other room. Even though her situation was grave, it was comforting to know that she wasn't totally alone. Morgan forced herself to take a few deep breaths over several minutes to try to calm down. She attempted to use her empathy again, she cried out from the pain.

"That is called a neural inhibitor. I wasn't sure that it would actually work on an empath."

For the first time in her life, somebody startled her. She turned her head toward the voice.

It was a tall man dressed in a military uniform. She gasped as memories came back to her in a flood. She remembered her last moments of consciousness- the school invasion, her killing of the soldiers, the children. Morgan focused on the man in the room and tried to hit him as hard as she could with everything that she had. The pain took her breath away and her knees gave out from under her.

"I'd advise you not to use your powers, Ms. McGowan. The pain will only increase each time you try," he said calmly as walked towards her, "I apologize about the discomfort of the position, you won't be in it for too much longer."

He gently gathered her hair up in a hand, she tried to pull away from his touch, but his grip was firm. He pulled it into a high ponytail, exposing her neck. The cool air felt oppressive on her newly uncovered skin. It was such an odd thing to do, to pull her hair back and up, many thoughts crossed her mind as to the reason why. None of them were good. Staring down at his highly polished boots, Morgan swallowed hard and decided to see if she could get any information from this soldier. He already knew about her empathy and her name.

"Where am I?" she asked quietly.

"You are at a military base called Alkali Lake, Ms. McGowan," he replied, walking over to a cabinet. It creaked loudly when he opened it.

"Why am I here?"

"You attacked and killed seven of my men last night," he answered coolly, evading her question.

"You invaded my home… you kidnapped our students… I had to protect them," she replied softly, wishing that the tone of her voice could convey strength. She just sounded scared.

"Touché."

Morgan jumped when his radio loudly squawked, she learned that his name was Sergeant Lyman, and he was needed elsewhere. She breathed a sigh of relief, with that soldier gone; it gave her some time to think.

"No Jones, just leave her alone."

Morgan jumped again; she hadn't realized that there were guards standing at the other side of the room. She was discovering that she used her empathy more than she thought she did. It was another sense for her. Morgan kept her eyes down as the soldier approached her. She didn't need her power to know that his intensions could not be good. She could see his shiny black boots and camouflage fatigues, in her peripheral vision as her circled her.

"Jones," the other soldier whispered, "Lyman will have your balls if you touch her," he warned.

"Fucking mutie," Jones muttered under his breath, ignoring the other one. When he reached out and touched her hip, she took a shaky breath in and jerked away. He chuckled. It was a cruel sound. He continued to circle her. This can't be happening; Morgan thought to herself, this is not happening.

While standing behind her, he grabbed her by her hips and pulled her flush with his body. He then reached forward and grabbed her by the hair; she forced herself to not cry out by clenching her jaw and keeping her lips closed.

"You killed Williamson, I saw you do it. You made him not give a shit about anything before you stuck him like a pig," he whispered, as he rubbed himself into her. Morgan was absolutely defenseless. She now found herself in a position that in the past, and considering her given her abilities, she was never afraid of. She could walk down a dark alley late at night; she could even go on date with a serial rapist and have no fear of anything bad happening. In the past, she always had the upper hand.

Fear.

It ripped through her psyche.

"Jones! Step away from the prisoner!" Lyman barked, running into the room, hoping that it wasn't too late. He had felt her projected fear from three doors down, he had assumed that the inhibitor had dislodged or malfunctioned.

"You are relieved of duty, return to the barracks! Travis, go let Smith know what just happened here and then wait outside!" He ordered; as he crouched down to examine the inhibitor. It was functioning perfectly.

"Yes sir."

He stood up and glanced at the clock, and decided that Stryker needed to get here as soon as possible. They needed to get this one under control before something else happens. She might even figure out that she is strong enough to overload the inhibitor.

"I apologize for his behavior," he spoke in a low voice, "I certainly do not condone it and would never allow anything like that to happen under my command."

"Is there a problem Sergeant?" Stryker asked, walking quickly into the small room. He was flanked my Yuriko and Cyclops. He decided to not mention the feeling of fear that had just ripped through the compound. He didn't want the prisoner to know what she was still capable of.

"One of my soldiers, over stepped a boundary, I relieved him of his duty," Lyman replied, his eyes darting down to Morgan who was still visibly trembling. "She is ready for serum administration," he added.

Morgan could not stop shaking. It was the combination of being sexually assaulted, having these men talk about something that they were going to do her, the physical position that she was in, the absence of her empathy, and now seeing that Scott was under their control.

The older man said nothing as he approached Morgan; she turned her head slightly to the side and saw that he was holding a large syringe in his hand. The room was silent except the sound of her erratic breathing. When he grabbed roughly by her hair, her knees gave away. She felt a warm liquid on the back of her neck and then she only knew pain.