Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men or The Hunger Games.
Note: Thank you to Axe Smelling God, BamItsTyler, dyloccupy, IVolunteerAsAuthor, and symphorophilia for Emery, Florence, Seb, Savannah, and Vi, respectively.
Also, Happy Pi Day! I'd normally be in school enjoying some pie with my students, but this is our sixth snow day of the year. So ... virtual pie for all of you!
Monsters
Colonel Judah Burgess, 52
March 15th, 05:30 EST
They were just a different kind of monsters.
Judah stretched his arms as he climbed out of the plane. It was still dark outside, but somehow that seemed fitting. He'd wanted to get an early start, anyway. The sooner he and the others got back to Calpet, the sooner they could make sure everything was running smoothly there. Besides, he would have one of the longer flights back, considering the locations of the mutants he'd been assigned.
He would have made the same call, though. He had the experience that the others lacked. The closest any of the others came to combat experience was Anita, who was minding things back in Wyoming while they were gone. While she was an experienced combat medic and cool under pressure, she was a doctor, not a soldier. Even Nicholas, for all his skill and intelligence, was a scientist first. He was always thinking in terms of the big picture, which was all well and good if what you wanted was a plan, a neat set of instructions developed in a calculating manner.
But when people wanted someone who would have the nerve to follow those instructions, they needed a soldier. When they needed someone to take on a monster, they needed a fighter. And these were monsters; he was certain of that. He'd been skeptical, at first, when he'd seen the reports on some of their powers. They seemed like creatures out of legend.
Maybe there was some truth to those legends. Vampires and werewolves, witches and wizards. Maybe they had been mutants all along, and the scientific explanation had just taken a bit longer to make its way to the surface. But the danger that such creatures posed remained the same, no matter what they were called.
They would always be monsters.
And ordinary people, innocent people, innocent humans – they would always need someone to protect them from the monsters. That was his job. By the end of today, there would be four fewer monsters on the streets, threatening the lives of everyone around them.
Judah glanced around as he made his way down the streets of Springfield. Not many people were awake yet, and those who were paid little attention to him or the Sentinels who were following him. They didn't care. Whatever he was up to, it wasn't their problem.
People like him were the reason it wasn't their problem. People like him were the reason they were safe. People who were willing to do what had to be done – like him and the rest of the MAAB – were the reason the rest of the country could go on with their lives despite the danger. It was a thankless job, but someone had to do it.
Judah turned a corner, and he could finally see the orphanage in the distance, at the end of a dimly lit street. He shook his head. Where else would it be? The lights were off, the children still asleep. Well, maybe not the one he was after. That would be best – if he could simply take her without disturbing any of the other children. Hell, they would probably thank him if they knew what sort of monster he was saving them from.
Judah shook the thought from his head. No, they wouldn't thank him. People rarely did. But that wasn't why he had signed on for this job. He was here to protect people, to keep them safe.
Even if they didn't realize it.
Emery Mullins, 15
Springfield, VA
05:43 EST
She wasn't the real monster.
Emery closed her eyes for a moment, lying on her back in the grass. No one had noticed her sneaking out into the yard, and it would be hours before anyone else was awake. It was always a bit too stuffy inside, and she'd wanted to see the stars. Well, as much of the stars as she could see with the city lights. Still, it was better than what she'd had before. Better than scavenging in the woods or trying to survive on garbage. And it was certainly better than when she and her brother Hunter had lived with their parents.
It had taken her years to realize that it hadn't been her fault. The beatings, the burning, the screams when she or her brother did the slightest thing wrong. Their father, a local preacher, had kept the two of them isolated, insisting on perfection. A perfection no one could have achieved. Finally, she had realized it had nothing to do with them. No one could have met his demands. No one could have made him happy.
One night, when the beatings had gotten particularly fierce, something inside her had snapped. Something she later realized had been her mutation. When her father had turned his attention to Hunter, she had lunged, her wolf form half-emerging as she bit her father's arm. It had only lasted a moment that time, but that had been enough to enrage their father. He'd beaten her senseless and left the two of them in the woods to starve.
Except they hadn't starved. Between the animals she'd learned to kill in her wolf form and the garbage they'd found, they'd managed to survive until the police found them. Since their parents couldn't be found, the officers had brought them to the orphanage. And maybe life here wasn't perfect, but it was certainly better. She and Hunter could tough it out until they were old enough to make it on their own.
For the most part, they kept to themselves. The others had no idea that she was a mutant, and she intended to keep it that way. It was their little secret, and Hunter was good at keeping secrets. He'd learned to keep his mouth shut early on, thinking it would protect him from their parents, and it was a habit that he'd never really been able to shake, even now that they were safe.
Safe. Emery couldn't help a little chuckle as she opened her eyes. It was strange to think of an orphanage as a place she and Hunter could consider safe, but it was probably the best place they'd been. The people who were supposed to protect them – their parents – had done the exact opposite. They were the real monsters, no matter what people thought of mutants like her. People who turned on their children because of who they were – they were the problem.
A problem she didn't have to deal with anymore.
Suddenly, she heard something – something in the distance. Even in human form, her hearing was better than most. She rolled over a little, pressing an ear to the ground. Footsteps. There were definitely footsteps, and heavy ones at that. And, even worse, they didn't sound human. That could only mean one thing.
"Shit," Emery muttered under her breath as the Sentinels appeared in the distance, their eyes glowing bright red in the night. She could feel the fur starting to prickle through her skin before she even had a chance to think. They were here for her; there was no doubt about that. None of the others were mutants. Or at least, she was pretty sure they weren't. How would she know? It wasn't as if she went around telling people she was a mutant, so why should she expect anyone else to do the same?
Emery shook herself free from the tangle of her nightclothes as her wolf form emerged. If they were here for her, she could run. In her wolf form, she could probably make it pretty far. Maybe they hadn't even seen her yet. But that would mean leaving Hunter, who was still safely asleep inside. If the Sentinels didn't realize she had left, if they went looking through the school, they might hurt him. They might hurt the rest of the children if they believed she was still hiding somewhere.
No, there was no point in hiding. Now fully in wolf form, Emery gave a loud howl and took off towards the Sentinels. If she could make it past them back into the city streets, she might be able to lose them in the alleyways somewhere. If not … well, if they caught her, at least no one else would be hurt. Hunter wouldn't be hurt.
Her legs pumped furiously as she charged into the night. She could see the first Sentinel clearly now, and the one after that. How many of them were there? It didn't matter. The first one was already reaching down to grab her. She lunged out of the way and kept running, her senses exploding with the smells and sounds of the city streets. Even this early in the morning, there were plenty of distractions.
Focus. The wolf's mind was hard to control sometimes. Sometimes, it was better not to try. The wolf's instincts were quicker, its thought processes much simpler. Run. That was all she had to do right now.
Suddenly, a metal hand reached down behind her and clamped around one of her hind legs. Emery let out a howl, her jaws finding only metal as she struggled to free herself. It was no use. The Sentinel held her tightly, lifting her off the ground. She could see a man standing near the Sentinel, reaching towards her, holding something plastic. Some sort of collar.
Emery growled, her teeth closing around his arm. But instead of flesh, her jaws closed around something thick and hard. Some sort of thick protective armor. The man chuckled. "Yes, we took a few more precautions this year. Had a little incident last year with another dog who liked to bite." He slipped the collar around Emery's neck and pushed a button.
Instantly, Emery could feel the wolf slipping away as her body started to shift back to human form. The Sentinel lowered her to the ground, where she lay for a moment, shaking, before the man draped a blanket over her. She'd figured out how to emerge from wolf form wearing skintight clothes, but anything else simply fell away when she changed.
Emery staggered to her feet, the blanket draped around her shoulders. "What do you want?" she asked, glaring at the man in front of her. No point in running now, so she might as well find out what she was up against.
"You, Emery. We want you. And I do appreciate you making it easier on the others at the orphanage. Your howling probably woke one or two of them, but not nearly as many as a few Sentinels storming the building would have."
Emery clenched her fists. "So they're safe."
The stranger nodded. "Perfectly safe. From me, and from you."
"I wouldn't have hurt them."
The man shrugged. "I'm sure you believe that. But it was only a matter of time. Now they're safe, and you…" He shook his head.
"At least you can put that wolf of yours to good use."
Florence Roos, 114
Tonawanda, NY
07:37 EST
The monsters were coming.
Florence gave Ethel's hand a squeeze as the two of them stood outside, waiting for the sunrise. Waiting for what was coming. Ethel had seen it in a vision – a man approaching, leading an army of giants – and Ethel's visions had never been wrong before. Her childhood friend came from a long line of mutants with the gift of foresight, just as Florence had inherited her powers from her own father.
That had been a long time ago, of course. Her own parents were long gone, killed in a blaze when their house was set on fire by people who didn't understand. People who were afraid. All that remained of them was an amulet, tucked safely around Florence's neck. Ethel's parents had taken her in, raised her, helped her come to terms with her gifts. She and Ethel had grown up alongside each other.
While Ethel had aged like any other human, however, Florence's own mutation slowed her aging. A year for every decade or so – that was what the professor had said. It had been Ethel's advice that had led her to his school a few decades ago. She had enjoyed her time there, but…
But then the more unstable parts of her power had started to emerge. It had all been good fun before that. Enhanced speed and agility, hypnosis, and even shapeshifting. It was at the school that she'd finally mastered her ability to shapeshift into a bat.
Then the hunger had emerged. A deep, insatiable lust for blood. The professor had tried to help her control it, but it had been too strong. After nearly killing one of her classmates, she had fled into the night, leaving the school behind. It was better that way – better for all of them. She hadn't wanted to hurt them.
She couldn't avoid hurting people entirely, of course. But she could ensure that her victims were people she didn't know. People who wouldn't be missed. She had spent years drifting from place to place, avoiding detection, killing when she couldn't stand the thirst any longer. She had never wanted to kill. She didn't want to be the monster that the humans surely thought she was. But every time she tried to hold back, the hunger only grew stronger. More intense. Eventually, she gave in.
She always gave in.
A little over a year ago, she had found her way back to the school, hoping that maybe the professor would be able to help her. But she'd returned to find the school burning, the Sentinels surrounding it. She had fled before they could notice her, and, in her desperation, had come back to Ethel. They had drifted apart over the years, but Ethel had taken her in. She understood. Ethel had always been kind to her.
And now she had a chance to return the favor. Ethel had warned her that someone was coming. Someone dangerous. Leading an army of giants. Probably Sentinels. If they were coming for her, there was no way to fight without putting Ethel's life in danger – as well as the lives of her family. She didn't have a choice.
No, that wasn't quite right. There was always a choice. What she had was a chance to make the right choice. The choice that would save the life of her friend. The Sentinels were going to take her, no matter what she did. It was just a matter of whether she was going to put up a fight first, and how many people might be killed in the process.
Ethel squeezed Florence's hand gently. "You don't have to do this."
No. No, she didn't have to. But she wanted to. And she was going to. "I know," Florence whispered as the first rays of light began to creep over the houses. She could see them in the distance now – giant shapes looming towards her. Florence wrapped her arms around Ethel. "It's all right," Florence whispered, holding her old friend close. "I'll be fine."
It was probably a lie. If the Sentinels had caught up with her, it probably meant that they had figured out who was behind the killings. There had been stories of mutants – ones who had committed crimes, at least – who had simply disappeared without a trace. What had happened to them? What was going to happen to her? Yes, she had killed those people, but it wasn't her fault. Not really. She'd just been hungry.
Ethel squeezed Florence tightly, as if she might never let go. When she finally did, however, Florence turned to see a man approaching them, flanked by nearly a dozen Sentinels. Okay. This was it. She took a few steps towards the man, holding up her hands. Hoping that would be enough to signal her intentions – that she wasn't looking for a fight.
The man raised an eyebrow. Clearly, this wasn't the greeting he'd been expecting. "Florence Roos?"
Florence nodded. "Yes." Her voice was shakier than she would have liked, but she cleared her throat and tried again. "Yes. I'm Florence Roos."
"Colonel Judah Burgess," the man replied, taking a few steps closer, the Sentinels still close behind. "Come with us peacefully, and there won't be any trouble." His eye was on Ethel, still standing close behind Florence. Maybe the sight of an old lady nearby had given him pause. Whatever he was here for, it wouldn't look good if there were civilian casualties.
Florence took a deep breath, giving Ethel one last nervous smile as she took a few more steps towards Judah, the sidewalk cold against her bare feet. "What's the catch?" she asked shakily.
"The catch?"
"You're not just going to take my word that I'm not going to cause any trouble, are you?" Surely he was smarter than that.
Judah chuckled a little, producing something from inside one of his pockets. A plastic collar. He held it out to her. "Put this on."
"What does it do?"
"It's an inhibitor collar. It blocks your powers if it's turned on."
Interesting. She took the collar and examined it. "Why plastic?" Surely there had to be stronger materials they could have built it out of.
Judah shook his head. "It's not plastic, exactly. Just looks like it. At least, that's what our expert tells me. It's more flexible than metal, which is a useful if you want to, say, adjust it to change shape. For example, if you wanted it to fit snugly around someone's neck even if they shrank to the size of a bat or if they suddenly sprouted fur and turned into a wolf."
"A wolf?"
Judah chuckled. "It's been an interesting morning. So far, though, I'd say it's gone pretty smoothly." He shook his head as Florence slid the collar on.
"I might be the first one back yet."
Seb Krause, 16
Charlotte, NC
10:42 EST
They didn't have to be monsters.
Seb shook his head as his gaze strayed to the television in the corner. The news was on, as it usually was in his family's furniture store. They liked to stay up-to-date on current events, especially now that much of the news concerned the government's actions regarding mutants. Anything they decided, after all, was likely to affect both him and his uncle. They could try to ignore it, of course; some people did. But it was better to know what was going on. That way, they could be prepared.
Sometimes, though, it was just so frustrating. The mutants who ended up on the news were always the ones who had used their powers to do something dangerous. Right now, the images were those of an earthquake that had occurred the week before – an earthquake that many believed had been caused by a mutant. There was no way to know, really, whether or not that was true. But ever since last year, when a young mutant had destroyed an entire island up in Alaska, it was tempting to blame any disaster on some sort of mutant, rather than assuming it was a natural event.
Seb sighed. If it was a mutant, they certainly weren't helping. The government certainly wasn't going to relax its stance on mutants if they kept making scenes like this. This was the sort of thing that kept the whole problem from simply blowing over, from running its course through the news and then disappearing. If he could learn to control his power, then surely other mutants could do the same.
He'd only been five years old, after all, when his power had first appeared. He had been learning to write along with his classmates, and had written the word "fire." To everyone's astonishment, a fire had appeared out of nowhere in the classroom. The teachers had managed to evacuate everyone in time, but a large part of the school had been destroyed.
But that had been an accident. Ever since then, he'd been careful. He took precautions. Most of the time, he simply used a computer to type his notes and assignments. On the rare occasions when he did use his power, he was careful not to make anything dangerous appear. A candy bar if he wanted a snack. A pair of clean socks if he'd forgotten to bring a change of clothes for gym class. Nothing that would hurt anyone.
It didn't stop the other students from teasing him, but he'd gotten used to that. The incident in kindergarten had been all over the news at the time, so they all knew. When the Mutant Registration Act had been passed, he had been one of the first mutants in the county to register. Everyone knew, anyway, so there was no reason to pretend otherwise.
Since then, he'd done everything right. He'd kept his registration up-to-date. He hadn't hurt anyone. He'd kept a low profile and, for the most part, things had worked out. Sure, the other kids avoided him at school, but that was just how teenagers were, wasn't it? If they weren't singling him out because of his mutation, it would be because of something else.
There was always something.
That was what most people didn't seem to understand. Mutations were just one more thing that made some people different. And as long as they weren't using their power to hurt anyone, there was no reason to treat them any differently.
As long as they weren't using their power to hurt anyone. That was the problem, really. A few mutants who couldn't – or wouldn't – control their powers were making everything more difficult for the rest of them. How were they supposed to convince the government that mutants weren't dangerous when a few of them were running around blowing up islands or leveling towns? How was any group supposed to recover from that sort of negative publicity? Maybe if they could just stop being a threat for a while, the government would stop treating them like one.
"You know what they really need?"
Seb looked up, startled. He hadn't realized his uncle Niklas had been watching him. "Who?"
"Those folks on the television. What they really need to do is set up a system to deal with this sort of thing. And I mean actually deal with it, not just complain about it afterwards. A group of mutants who will respond to this sort of thing. Like firefighters or policemen, except they wouldn't have to wait around with hoses. They could just summon a blast of water and boom! Fire's gone. Or if you've got a mutant running around causing earthquakes, you get another one who can calm those earthquakes. Let mutants help deal with the problems other mutants are causing, you know?"
Seb smiled. His uncle had all sorts of crazy ideas. "And who's going to convince the government to go along with that one? You?"
"Don't tempt me," Niklas chuckled, turning the television off. "If I had the chance, I bet I could talk some of them into seeing it my way."
Seb shook his head. His uncle's charmspeak made him an excellent salesman, but would even he be able to handle a room full of politicians?
Before he could voice any doubts, however, his parents burst through the door. "Seb! Niklas! They're coming. You have to hide."
"Whoa, easy, calm down," Niklas insisted, his voice instantly relaxing them. "Who's coming?"
"Sentinels – lots of them," his mother answered. Seb tensed. That was bad. One or two Sentinels wasn't an unusual sight, but when there were a lot of them, it meant they were prepared for a fight.
Even Niklas seemed to realize just how serious the situation was. "Hurry. Out the back door." He gave Seb a nudge in the right direction. "I'll hold them off."
"But they're ro—" was all Seb managed to get out before the first of the robots came crashing through the door, sending splinters flying everywhere.
Seb ducked behind the counter, but his uncle stepped calmly towards the robot. "You can turn around and go back now. There's nothing you want here." Seb could feel the urgency in his words, coursing through the shop, willing the robot to go back the way it had come.
It would have worked on a human.
Instead, the Sentinel's hand came down, swatting Niklas out of the way as easily as if was a rag doll. He almost looked like a doll, the way his body crumpled against the wall of the shop. Distantly, as if in a dream, he heard his mother's scream. Saw his father rush to his uncle's side. He could see the blood. But it was all out of focus, as if it were happening to someone else, and he was just watching. Watching as the Sentinel reached for him, its hand closing around him as if he too was just a child's plaything.
Then he blacked out.
Savannah Kingston, 19
Boston, MA
12:55 EST
People always enjoyed the ones with monsters.
Savannah smiled as she handed two tickets to the boys in front of her. The oldest couldn't be more than ten, and here they were, on their own, off to see a movie about some giant animal destroying a town. Or something of that sort. She'd lost track track around the third or fourth movie in the series. "Buttered or no?" she asked, scooping out some popcorn.
"Yeah," one of the boys answered, glancing at his phone. There were still five minutes until the movie started, and that wasn't even counting the previews. A line still stretched halfway out the door. Apparently, quite a few people had decided a movie was a good way to spend a chilly Sunday afternoon. This wasn't technically her shift, but she'd owed Daniel a favor. Besides, weekend shifts paid better anyway, and she would still be done in time to have dinner with her dad.
He made her promise that every weekend, even though she still lived with him. Between working shifts at the theater and taking night classes, she didn't always have time to sit down for a meal during the week – not at the same time as him, at least. But weekends … Well, it was always easier to find a little time on the weekends.
Her phone buzzed a little in her pocket as the line slowly dwindled. Probably her dad, wanting to check in on her again. Sometimes he worried a bit too much, but it was hard to blame him for that. Ever since her mom died, it had just been the two of them. And it hadn't helped that her power had started to complicate things.
She had been in school when she'd gotten called down to the office. Part of her had known it might be coming, that her mother's cancer was getting worse, that it was only a matter of time. But it had still hurt to hear the words. The principal had left her alone in the office for a moment to collect herself.
She remembered feeling a tingling in her hands. A tingling that had spread through her whole body, shooting out in waves. She remembered a blue light, but she hadn't realized at the time that the light had been coming from her. Her dad had arrived to find her curled up in a ball on the floor, and the room on fire. Officially, the fire had been blamed on a faulty plug somewhere, but it hadn't taken her long to piece together the truth.
Every so often, the feeling would come back. Sometimes when she was sad, or angry, or just frustrated. At first, she hadn't even wanted to leave the house, for fear that she might hurt someone. But she couldn't stay locked up in her house forever, and just being outside and doing something again had helped a bit. It was easier to stay busy out here, and the busier she was, the less likely she was to get angry. That was her best theory, anyway, and for the most part, it seemed to be working.
Finally, the last person in line made her way through, and Savannah glanced down at her phone. Sure enough, it was her dad. Five messages from her dad, all asking the same thing. How are you?
Savannah smiled, typing back quickly. Good. Still on for dinner tonight?
The reply was immediate. Of course. Love you.
Love you, too. She tucked her phone back in her pocket as she saw someone coming through the door. Savannah froze. Not someone. Something. And, to make it worse, there was no more door. The Sentinel stepped closer as it was joined by a man in some sort of uniform. "Savannah Kingston?"
Savannah tensed. She could feel the tingling starting to grow in her hands. Not here. The last thing she needed was to lose control in front of a Sentinel. But how long could she hold it together? "Yes. How can I help you?"
"You need to come with us. It would probably be best if we got away from—"
That was all he had time to say. A bolt of lightning shot out of her hand and into the floor, sending sparks flying in every direction. Screaming, she raced for the door. To her surprise, she made it there before the Sentinel did. Or maybe that was the point. Maybe they wanted her outside so that she wouldn't hurt anyone.
Another bolt of lighting. And then another. People were watching now. Running. Maybe they were just as afraid as she was. She could feel her hair standing on end as electricity shot up into the sky. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the Sentinels. A bolt of lighting struck one of them, but the robot didn't even slow down. The man in the uniform, now perched atop the Sentinel's shoulder, was smiling a little.
Something shot out of the robot's hand. Some sort of dart. A tranquilizer? Maybe, she realized as it struck her in the neck. Savannah crumpled to her knees, lightning still flashing. She could hear screaming, but she couldn't tell if it was coming from the people around her or from her own throat.
Everything was getting fuzzy. As she slumped to the ground, she could see a pair of hands reaching towards her. Hands covered in rubber gloves. Smart. Something snapped around her neck. There was a sudden jolt, and immediately the lightning stopped. Even the tingling in her hands was gone.
Savannah looked down at her hands. "What … what did you do?" Her voice didn't sound quite right. Maybe that was the tranquilizer.
"Oh, don't worry. It's only temporary," the stranger assured her. "The collar blocks your power, and the tranquilizer will knock you out for a little while, but you'll be fine."
"Why…?" It didn't make any sense. He'd obviously known what he was up against. He'd had the sense to wear rubber clothes and had brought an entire army of Sentinels. Why hadn't he just walked into the theater, shot a dart in her from behind, and carried on without a fuss?
That was what she wanted to ask, but her tongue couldn't form the right words. The stranger knelt down at her side, smiling a little, as if he understood the question anyway. "Because sometimes it's good to show people what mutants like you are really capable of." He nodded at the crowd that was gathering.
"Sometimes they need to be reminded who the monsters are."
Vi Voclain, 18
Boston, MA
13:23 EST
"Sometimes they need to be reminded who the monsters are."
Vi stood watching along with the rest of the crowd as the girl finally passed out, the collar still fastened around her neck. She had been shooting lightning everywhere, but everything had stopped as soon as the man had put the collar on. Apparently, it did something to block her power. And if it could block hers, then maybe…
Vi took a deep breath, trying to process the sensation fluttering around the pit of his stomach. Was it … was it hope? Was this what it felt like? No. No, that was silly. Hope was silly, and it was meant for silly people who went around with their head in the clouds, believing that everything would work out in the end. But nothing ever did.
Not for him, at least. Vi glanced around at the crowded street. Even just today, the sequence of events that had brought him here might have been ridiculous, if he hadn't been on the receiving end. The hospital had mixed up up his medication again. They must have, because he had found himself wandering out the door and down the street, looking for … something. He didn't know what.
He should have stayed away from the street. The reason he'd been in the hospital in the first place was because he'd been hit by a car after barely escaping from a murderer who had picked him up when he was trying to hitchhike away from town. The doctors hadn't believed that, of course, and one of them had taken it upon herself to assume that he was delusional, and prescribed the appropriate medication.
Or at least, the medication that would have been appropriate if he actually had been delusional. Instead, the reaction had nearly killed him, and when he'd started feeling the same way again today … maybe he had run. Maybe that was what had happened. Either way, he'd found himself stumbling through the streets. He'd noticed just in time that the wind had blown something out of his pocket – a picture of him and Alex. It was all he had left of the only friend he'd ever really had.
So he'd chased it for several blocks, until the wind had blown it into the luggage hold of a bus. He should have known better. He really should have. But he'd bent down to reach inside, tripped, and stumbled into the luggage hold. Immediately, the door had slammed closed behind him.
Because of course it had. That sort of thing happened all the time. At first, he'd thought that maybe he was cursed. It was one of the older kids in one of his many foster homes who had come up with a different idea very much by accident. After breaking Vi's nose, he'd remarked that now Vi looked like 'one of them muties on tv.' He hadn't meant it – probably – but the idea had stuck in Vi's head. Maybe he was a mutant. Maybe all this bad luck was really just a mutation.
Not that it had mattered much one way or the other – not until now. After hours of bumps and bruises and jostling his broken arm, which was still healing from the car crash, the bus had finally come to a stop, and the door had opened. He'd rolled out onto the sidewalk and staggered down the street. But he hadn't gotten far before he'd seen what looked like lightning. Blue lightning, shooting up into the sky and all around, all of it coming from a girl.
People were running away, but there was no point, really. If lightning was going to strike him, then it was going to strike him whether he ran or not. Instead, he'd watched as the man in the uniform had slipped a collar around the girl's neck, which apparently did something to her powers. Dampened them? Completely neutralized them?
And if a collar could stop her powers – if it could stop someone strong enough to shoot lightning out of her body – then maybe, just maybe, it could stop his.
Maybe.
"Hey!" Vi called after the man in the uniform, but he and the Sentinels were already heading in the opposite direction, one of the robots carrying the girl. Vi chased after them. He would probably have caught up quickly if he hadn't tripped twice. He was still dizzy from spending hours in a baggage hold. Still groggy from the medicine. He wasn't even sure where he was. He hadn't had time to ask where the bus was heading. But none of that mattered.
What mattered was that he had a chance.
He lost sight of the man in the uniform, but the Sentinels were easy to follow, even from several blocks behind. After maybe ten minutes, they came to a stop in a clearing. There was a large strip of bare land, almost like a … a runway. Yes, a runway, Vi realized as he spotted the plane. The man in the uniform was climbing into the plane, and the Sentinels had already taken off. The girl was probably already inside the plane. Okay. All he had to do was catch up. "Wait!" he called at the top of his lungs. "Wait!"
No one heard him. No wonder, since the propellers were already spinning. Vi raced towards the plane as fast as he could, banging on the side of the plane as soon as he reached it. No one heard him. Of course no one heard him. That was just his luck.
Then he saw the door. A small door on the side of the plane. A cargo hold, maybe. No point in trying the door. It would be locked. It would certainly be locked. But there was no harm in trying, either. Vi put his hand to the handle and pulled.
It opened.
It actually opened.
Vi nearly burst out laughing as he climbed inside and pulled the door shut behind him, then fastened the bolt. He certainly didn't want it opening during the flight; that would be just his luck. The space was cramped, but it certainly wasn't any worse than the luggage hold on the bus. After a few moments, the plane started to move. Faster. Faster.
All he had to do was wait for the plane to land. And then … and then what? Someone would have to open the door at some point, wouldn't they? There was some luggage in here. Not a lot, but enough that someone would miss it. Probably. Maybe.
Or maybe he would just starve. Or run out of air. But there seemed to be air coming from somewhere – enough that he wouldn't suffocate for a while, at least.
But he had no way of knowing how long it would be before the plane landed. Vi closed his eyes, trying not to breathe too deeply. He really hadn't thought this through. He hadn't had time to. He just wanted…
What? He wasn't even entirely sure what it was he wanted, because he had no way of knowing what a normal life felt like. What would it be like to not expect the worst at every turn, to be constantly dreading the next terrible thing that was going to happen? He had no way of knowing what that would be like.
But more than anything, he wanted to find out.
Judah Burgess, 52
Calpet, WY
16:42 MST
They probably thought he was a monster.
Judah made his way to the back of the plane, bracing himself for a barrage of questions and protests and complaints from the passengers. But the worst part was over. Once the mutants were safely inside the base, they weren't his problem anymore. Not really. Explaining what was going on, training them, getting them ready for the Games – that was all the coaches' responsibility. All he had to do was make sure nothing got out of hand, and be ready to step in if it did.
Before he could open the door to let the mutants out, however, he heard something. Some sort of banging noise, coming from … the cargo hold? That didn't make any sense. Judah shook his head, unlocking the door. Maybe something had broken loose and was bumping around in there, but that wouldn't explain why it was still moving now that the plane had come to a stop. But the only other explanation was that there was something – or someone – alive in there.
In one quick move, Judah flung the door wide open and stepped back. Immediately, a boy tumbled out, groaning softly as he hit the ground. His arm was in a sling, and the rest of him seemed to be quite bruised. Not surprising, considering he'd just spent more than five hours in the cramped cargo hold. And that was assuming he'd gotten on the plane at their last stop.
Slowly, the boy got to his feet. "Where are we?"
Judah shook his head. Better not to answer that one until he had some idea what was going on. "Who are you?"
"My name's Vi. Well, Viorel, but no one calls me that."
Judah raised an eyebrow. He doubted anyone called the boy much of anything. His clothes were tattered, and he was only wearing one shoe. His hair was a mess, but that could have been the result of the flight. "Care to explain what you were doing on my plane, Vi?"
"Do you have any more of those collars?"
Judah let that sink in for a moment. "These?" He held up one of the spare inhibitor collars Nicholas had given them in case something unexpected happened to one of the others.
The boy's eyes grew wide with something that almost seemed like hunger. "Yes. Can I … can I have one?" He paused for a moment, as if struggling with the next word. "Please?"
"You're a mutant?"
"Yes."
"And you want one of these?"
"Yes."
"You realize they block your abilities, right?"
"That's why I want one. I'm…" He hesitated. "I'm unlucky." Judah's doubt must have made its way to his face, because the boy continued. "Look, I know. I know it sounds silly, when you say it like that, but you have to believe me. Why would I be lying?"
He had a point. Whatever the boy's powers were, he was so desperate to get rid of them that he'd hitched a ride on a plane without any idea where it was going or what would happen once he got there. Judah turned the collar over in his hand. "I'll have to get it cleared first, but I'd like to offer you a deal, Vi. We're holding a little … competition here. If you'd care to join us, you can wear one of these for the duration. If you win, it's yours to keep – for good. But you're either in or you're out – right now." He held out the collar. "What do you say?"
Vi snatched the collar out of his hand and slid it around his neck. "Deal."
Judah nodded, pressed a button on the remote that controlled the collars, and pulled out his phone. "Then I have a call to make."
Nicholas picked up almost immediately. "Everything all right, Judah?" Nicholas sounded tired, and there was some sort of sound in the background. Rain, maybe – and definitely coming down hard.
"Perfectly all right," Judah assured him. "A little better than expected, which is why I called. Figured I'd better run this by you first." He glanced over at Vi, who was already looking a little more relaxed.
"I've got an extra mutant here who wants to join our little party."
"If they think we're beasts and monsters … then perhaps we better live up to the name."
