Amanda looked at the barrel of the gun, feeling her heart constrict in her chest. She tried to figure out what she should do, where she could run, or how she could block what was about to happen to her.
In the seconds she had, Amanda drew a blank. The pain in her stomach seemed to increase every second, and moving even an inch seemed like an impossible task. Even if she put her hand up, she knew it wouldn't be enough to stop the bullet.
She thought of Megan, and looked over slightly, just so she could meet her eyes. God, she looked so scared. Amanda wanted to cry out to her that she was sorry, sorry for not protecting her better. It looked like, while they had tried to flee those who would spit on Megan or use her to fight for their amusement, they'd run right into the arms of her sisters.
Although her lips were dry, her throat sandpaper, Amanda smiled. She didn't know if it looked convincing at all, but she had to try. She couldn't let Megan's last memory of her be of a terrified face. Was Kodi here? There was no time to find him. He would have to remember that night on the deck, her smiles since then.
There was a soft explosion next to her. Amanda turned, not understanding, as curls of black smoke and the smell of sulphur surrounded her. Something long and thin wrapped around her wrist, and she saw a blue tail encircling her hand like a bracelet.
Blinking several times, she saw a three-fingered hand knock the gun out of Martinique's hand. She saw Martinique turn around, each of her movements unnaturally slow in her mind's eye.
It was then that she realized it was Kodi. How'd he get there? What was with the smoke, with his tail wrapped around her forearm? She wanted to ask what was happening, or at least get a better idea, but there was another explosion.
Her world rattled. She coughed and looked to her side. Kodi was standing there, his eyes wide and concerned, but when the smoke cleared, relief melted onto his face. His tail slithered away from her arm, and she blinked several more times.
"I will get Megan," he said.
Amanda didn't get a chance to respond, to warn him about what Martinique was. He was gone so soon, and she rushed to the rail and looked down. There was a matching cloud dissipating on the deck as crew members looked around, as Martinique knelt to pick up her gun.
Kodi appeared in front of the man holding Megan, a few feet above the ground. He pushed out with his legs as his tail grabbed Megan's arm. The man was pushed back, but Kodi's tail held Megan. He flipped in the air once before his tail flung Megan into his arms.
She gaped, because Kodi had always seemed so peaceful. Besides that, she hadn't known he could disappear and reappear like that. He had never told her, never said that was his mutation. True, she had hidden things from him, but that had been different. Why had he felt the need to hide his mutation?
But she forgot all of that, because Martinique was getting up, cracking her neck. She hadn't gone for the gun, and Amanda knew what that meant.
"Kodi! Behind you!" she screamed.
He turned, but Martinique was smiling, and he fell, clutching his head. Amanda was running for the ladder, but as she slid down the rungs, she could see Megan kick at Martinique's feet. She swept her aside, and Kodi was making a low moaning sound.
Crew members were beginning to converge and, as she reached the bottom of the ladder, Amanda knew it was a lost cause. If she ran to his side, if she took him and Megan in her arms, stood between them and Martinique, she would only die. Megan would be taken anyway, and Kodi would likely be murdered seconds later.
But she didn't have a choice. She wouldn't watch that, so she moved forward anyway, her worn-out sneakers smacking down on the frozen metal. Martinique saw her coming, smiled, lit a cigarette.
Then Martinique's head was slammed down into the rail, and two shots rang out.
Mystique was furious. She'd tried to pull Kurt away from what she'd known would be a shit show, but he'd moved forward anyway. And, because of that, it was likely he'd ruined their cover, that this would be radioed in.
But the damage had already been done. So she'd moved toward the ladder, moving as discreetly as she could. Her idea had been to move down to the boat before anyone could radio in what had happened. She also had to check if the woman had some sort of radio herself. If they moved quickly, they might be able to pull it off.
At the same time, she'd kept a close eye on the fight. She'd been half-impressed when he saw Kurt's techniques, pulling Amanda away from danger, making it so the woman couldn't respond. But he'd taken her out of the equation after that, which was why he'd ended up in trouble.
And when she saw him writhing on the ground, her mind went to that night in East Germany, watching that winged brute advance on her son. For so long she'd been unable to protect him, having only allowed herself to give him to people she thought would do the job for her.
Now though, he was in pain. Now, he was going to die. She'd known the mission was ruined then, known that her next actions would likely condemn Moira to death, but God knew she couldn't sacrifice her brother's love for her son.
So, silently apologizing to her brother, she moved forward, scooping up the gun from where it had fallen, where the woman hadn't picked it up. All thoughts of the radio went out of her head. Instea,d she slammed the woman's head into the rail, fired the gun at the two advancing crew members.
They dropped and she looked back at the woman. She was wiping away the remains of a smashed cigarette from her face, her eyes narrowing. For a minute she saw someone appear in front of her, fire a bullet.
The pain appeared, but Mystique just snarled. It was weak, not quite the same level as an actual gunshot. She wasn't completely sure what this woman's mutation was, but it was definitely something along the lines of a telepath.
She moved past it, knowing the pain wasn't real, pushing it out of her mind. Emma had insisted on practicing on her back in the Brotherhood, and Erik had let her. It was just another form of training. She had been the one who'd insisted they prepare to fight telepaths, although Mystique had never felt comfortable with that.
The woman seemed surprised, but Mystique just punched her in the head. It would, Emma had told her, disorient her. Any sort of disorientation they could create would be good. That way she wouldn't be able to keep screwing with people's minds.
From behind her, she heard fleeing footsteps. So everyone was running instead of helping. Great. Sometimes it made Mystique wonder, it really did. Was everyone really so happy to be sheep, so afraid that they would flee instead of fight?
But there was the sound of explosions, of gunshots being fired. Kurt had her back, which meant he was up on his feet. She looked at the woman, wondering if she could still solve this, if there was a way out of what was going on.
"I will kill you," Mystique murmured, "And I think you've already figured out your mind tricks aren't exactly effective on me. So, right now, I think it would be a good time to decide where your priorities lie."
The woman narrowed her eyes, looking over to where Kurt and Megan had been. Mystique didn't know if they were still there, but it didn't matter. She jerked the woman around, slamming her head again.
"Don't look at them, look at me," she snapped, "And think very carefully before you answer the next questions. Is there anyone on the island? Any prisoners?"
Someone moved close to her. Mystique turned the gun around in her hand, shot them without turning around. The made a thud when they dropped.
"Prisoners?" the woman said.
She smiled.
"Oh...so you're Xavier's pets then," she said, "Here to pick up his girlfriend?"
Mystique froze. God, had it been that obvious? Were there no other prisoners?
"I don't recognize you, so I think you're the shapeshifter who hangs out with them from time to time," she said, "The hero. Interesting. I hear you might be his sister. That true?"
She hit her with the butt of the gun, trying to go light enough so she wouldn't give her a concussion.
"Tell me, or you're going to be in a world of hurt," said Mystique.
"Mmmhm," the woman said.
Mystique leaned in closer.
"Have you ever been shot before?" she asked, "I don't think you have, or you would've been better at simulating the pain."
She cocked the gun.
"Want me to teach you how to make it more realistic?"
The woman looked at the gun, saw that Mystique was pointing it at her foot. Good. Mystique wanted her to know that she didn't have to kill her to make her feel pain. Judging by her expression, the woman understood that.
"Yes," the woman said, "You've come to the right place."
"Where's Essex?" demanded Mystique.
The woman smiled.
"What time is it?" she asked.
Fear trickled in. That was not the question she'd wanted to be asked. Footsteps came up behind her, but she recognized their tread. Kurt. It was just Kurt. There were other footsteps too, but they were calm. Amanda and Megan, for all the good they were.
"It's five thirty," she said.
"Oh, five thirty, of course," said the woman, still grinning, "So, in that case, he should be landing right about now. He thought you all might be coming soon. Asked to know the minute you did."
Mystique hoisted her up, drawing her close. As she did, a barely audible beeping reached her ears. She jerked the woman's collar to the side, saw the blinking light there. Mystique didn't need Hank there to tell her what it was. She recognized a panic button just as well as anyone.
"You're screwed," the woman said, "You, MacTaggert."
Her grin became more wild.
"That bastard she's carrying."
Mystique felt the gun shake in her grip. Moira was pregnant? Realistically, she knew it wasn't necessarily her brother's. They hadn't been back together for very long, and there was only one night that she was aware of that they'd been intimate. But the odds were against her on that.
Oh God. Charles's child. In Essex's custody. The thought filled her with a kind of nameless fear, one that pierced her heart. She thought of her pregnancy with Kurt, praying for the chance to protect the child, secretly resenting him, but wanting to keep him, because she knew in her heart she would never see his father again.
The woman smashed her head into Mystique's. Mystique stumbled away and the woman threw herself off the side of the boat. Reeling from the pain, Mystique looked over the side. Briefly, she saw someone with a cowboy hat on the deck move forward. Then there was a flicker, and he was gone. Another flicker, and the woman was gone.
"Kurt, get us on that damn island right now," she said, pushing away, "Grab your girlfriend, the pixie, me, but get us the hell over there!"
Inside her heart though, she was already screaming. She had botched the mission by not stopping Kurt. She had botched it again when she had decided to step in and save him, too panicked about his well-being to wonder if the woman had some sort of panic button.
Mystique had sacrificed the mission to protect her child. In doing so, she might have sacrificed her brother's child.