She sat on the porch with Sam. Bleeding had stopped and she had cleaned and bandaged the wound on his shoulder. Sam was still weak and disoriented, pale as a sheet. His paleness had probably more to do with what was going on in front of the stable than the blood loss.
“He’s your real father. The monster they made.” Marie spoke with toneless voice, her eyes glued to the sight in front of them.
“Destroyer? But how… What is he doing?” Sam asked, wincing when the noise of snapping bones and tearing flesh reached his ears.
“Taking care of the situation. Making sure that nobody can fix them,” Marie said.
Something had happened. Last thing he could remember was lying on a cool slab of metal, excruciating pain tearing through his whole body. Machine had been working, trying to pull out something that wasn’t there anymore. Last hours it had been guzzling his blood instead of sperm it had been designed to collect. He had tried to tell them, tell them to stop and let him rest and recover, he’d be able to continue after a while, but they hadn’t listened.
Next thing he realized he was laying face down, his head still ringing from the blow, and stench of blood and fear were nearly strong enough to gag him. Breeder’s fear. Cub’s blood. It was clear that something had happened. Full-grown cub was living proof that quite some time had passed since he had been conscious the last time. And there was no stench of Army. Gunpowder, yes. Group that had attacked them were civilians.
“He… He already killed them. Is that really necessary?” Sam asked with quivering voice.
“I don’t know.” She was too tired and dazed to think. For her relief Wolverine hadn’t demanded that they’d continue following the program. Looked like Sam was enough proof for him, made him satisfied.
“Should I go and help?” Sam asked.
“No. You don’t go to him. You don’t talk to him. Not unless he approaches you first. Try not to look in to his eyes or his face. Stay small and harmless.”
He could hear them talking. Breeder and the cub. They were talking about him. How the cub should stay away from him. How they both should stay away from him. That was probably the wisest. He wasn’t built to deal with them.
He swiped off long strands of hair that kept falling over his eyes. Sticky mess of blood, shit and other fluids glued them back against his skull. Much better. He’d have to ask the breeder cut them shorter when he was done with this.
“He told me… When we were driving in his truck that night… Told me about everything he could remember. At first I didn’t believe. I didn’t want to believe and tried not to listen. It was too… Oh, my God. I think I’m going to be sick… Can we go inside?” Sam asked. Marie shook her head.
“I don’t want to aggravate him. We’d better stay where he can see us.” She wanted to go back inside. She wanted to take the truck and run, but that would have been futile. Wolverine would hunt them down no matter where they went.
He could smell his own scent, heavily imprinted on everything surrounding him. He had spent quite some time in here. The man had spent quite some time in here with the breeder. Cub was newer arrival. And from the looks of it seen some real battles. The War was still going on. He couldn’t bring himself to care anymore. He was through with them. Through with the Army. He had given them everything he had to give, and they had taken even more. Not anymore. He was finished.
Thighbone of this one was little trickier to chop up, but he managed to crush it. Had to make small pieces. They would rot faster. If he let the carcasses here like this, place would crawl with rats and other small critters, and judging from the condition of this place, the man and the Breeder had worked hard to get this far. He wouldn’t stick around much longer, but he was going to make sure they could keep on living in here before he left.
It looked like Wolverine was finally finished. For a moment he just stood there, covered to grit and grime, surveying his handiwork. Stepped closer to the sticky, slippery pile of mutilated bodies and hacked open a ribcage he had missed earlier, then sheathed his claws.
“Do you have any gasoline?” She heard him shout.
“No. We use solar power,” she answered. Wolverine grimaced.
“These will draw rats. They’ll eat you out of the house before you even notice.” And why the fuck should he care? It wasn’t like he was a farmer. Far from it. Before she had the time to stop him, Sam stood up shakily, clearing his throat.
“I think I saw something at the back of the stable. I’ll come and show it to you…” Cub was walking closer. Nearly stumbling over his own feet. Breeder had made a good work bandaging his wound, but he was still weak. He extended his hand, claws straining at their sheaths. Every instinct screaming to release them, but he kept himself checked. Urged the cub to wrap his arm around his neck and lean on to him. Cub’s closeness was unnerving at least. To be this close to another unit, bleeding and dying unit was tantamount to suicide in the battlefield.
“Show me.” She could hear Wolverine command with low voice. Sam threw a glance towards her over his shoulder. Wolverine’s right hand curled around his waist when the boy threw his arm around Destroyer’s neck. They walked slowly towards the stable, then disappeared from her view through the door in to darkness inside.
“I know what you did to her. I don’t want you to touch her anymore. Is that clear?” Cub growled when they got out of Breeder’s hearing range. That alone should have alerted him that something wasn’t right. He put it away as delirious rambling and kept walking, half carrying the cub towards the corner he had pointed. Cub’s hand started to slide lower from his shoulders, and he was getting heavier, leaning against him even more than before. Suddenly something sharp pierced his back, just under his right shoulder blade, slicing open tissues and lodging firmly between his metal-coated bones, shredding his right lung.
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