He was still fuming from the sight that had greeted him when he had finally managed to shoulder open the door. The girl on the floor, drooling carcass writhing and squirming between her thighs, its waxy buttocks bobbing up and down while it ate her breasts. He let out a breathy growl, claws forcing their way out involuntarily. He wanted… He needed to sink them in to something. Anything to clear off the haze of rage from his mind. He was no good to anybody in this condition. He’d have to focus and find a goddamned map, and preferably some sort of universal key for every door and elevator there was in this beehive.
The girl kept crying. He let her. He’d probably be screaming his lungs out right now if it were him at her place. She was actually pretty decent crier. None of that civilized sniffling crap with box of tissues involved, but full-blown tears, screams and snot that came from rage rather than sorrow. Good for her. Better just get it all out of her system now. He’d need her sober and coherent once they got out of here.
When he spotted a sturdy looking column sticking partly out of wall he let go of the gurney and sunk his claws to it with satisfied growl. Solid concrete that screeched against the metal, crumbling under his knuckles, flaying the skin and baring glinting metal from underneath. Pain from it brought back his focus, and he could actually think past the claws and how good it would feel to sink them in to something living and feel the soft slide of tissue and the heart as it started to slow down.
When he turned back to grab the gurney again he met her eyes. She’d stopped crying.
“Better?” She asked. He shrugged his shoulders and cracked his neck.
“Almost. You?”
“Almost. I think I can walk. Lets go and find that fucking map.”
“Do lets.”
They found it from a small hall. Hidden under nurse’s desk. Nurse stationed at the desk had probably been new in here. Map was hand-made, quite badly drawn, but it gave out the basic layout of the facility. And revealed quite an interesting fact. He had been going to right direction all along. There was an air conditioning shaft that started from the janitorial level, climbing the side of the building, all the way up to the ground level. There would undoubtedly be several obstacles in that shaft, but it was their best and only chance of getting out.
There were five floors separating them from the janitorial level. Five floors and god knew what hiding in each of those levels. And the keycard she had used to get in here wasn’t working on any of the elevators they tried anymore. It had gotten scratched and bent during their little tumble with the dead doctor. And for some reason the architect responsible for the design of this facility had seen it fit to place stairs at opposite sides of the building, rather than add two whole staircases on both sides. They’d have to find a new keycard or go through all five levels. And he just knew he wasn’t up to it. If those five levels were anything like they had seen up until now he’d be torn up after first two, and they could kiss their asses good bye at the third.
“We’ll find a key,” the girl said when he told her about their little dilemma. Then took his hands that weren’t still quite healed from his little lapse of sanity with the support column. His wrists and forearms were dark and swollen, as were his palms as well. Ragged holes on his knuckles and cleanly sliced wounds between them were bleeding sluggishly clear liquid with some clotted blood coloring it. His healing had already been impaired; he really hadn’t had any extra to borrow when he had touched her to let her heal from the damage the dead doctor had dealt upon her. It had been sheer stupidity from his part to pulverize that column afterwards.
“Is there anything we can do?” She asked, stroking his arms gently, her fingers barely touching his skin. He suppressed a shiver.
“Nothing much. We could wait. But if we don’t find that key… They put me through some scenarios. My body can take only so much before it stops healing. After that it’s toss and go which one will do me in first; blood loss or poisoning.”
“Poisoning?” She asked.
“This shit they put in to me… Adamantium. Yeah, that it was… It’s toxic. Durable as hell, they still haven’t found anything that would break it, but put a rat in to a cage made out of it and it’s dead in five minutes.”
He had no idea of what made him share that with her. He had no reason to trust her. Nor had she to raise his fists and kiss his still bleeding knuckles, but that she did.
“I don’t want you to touch me anymore. I have already taken too much from you,” she whispered. He yanked his hands from her grip, stuffing them in to pockets of his jeans.
“If you’re going to die, I’m going to touch you. I need you. Your memories and stuff. I’m not stupid. In here I may be the meanest fucker there is, but out there… It’s another ballgame. You know the rules to it, I don’t.” She looked like she was about to say something.
“I’ll keep you alive, but cross me, and that’s going to change. What I did to that bastard earlier is going to look like a pat on the head compared to what happens to you if you try to sneak around behind my back.”
“I could say the same to you. Try anything and I’ll suck you dry. And not in a good way…” She snarled, her eyes narrowing. He nodded.
“Fair enough. Lets find that fucking key and get the fuck out of here.”
“And some fresh clothes… These pants are chafing already…” She said grimacing and picking the rigid crotch of the pants Logan had somehow wrestled back on her while she had been unconscious.
“I’m not going to kiss it better. Take them off, I’m sure we’ll find something for you to wear soon enough.”
“Uhh…” She blushed furiously.
“Take them off. It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before.”
Naked, skin smeared with blood and other bodily fluids, like some sort of perverse war paint. He could see his own handprints on her both thighs, now dry and flaking off when she moved. More handprints on her stomach and sides, as well as around her throat. And those were not his. He swallowed the growl before it made its way out from his throat.
“I need a shower…” She hissed, trying to rub off layer of grime and dirt. And suddenly he was itching all over, his whole body feeling sticky, taut and sore.
“We both need a shower. And I think we just got lucky…” He grunted slicing a lock from a door labeled ‘locker room’.
Row after row plain grey steel lockers. He started prying them open. Several of them were empty, but then he hit a jackpot. Two lockers, side by side. One seemed to belong to a woman, the other for a man. When the girl reached over his shoulder towards clothes that hung in the locker he swatted her hand away.
“Tut-tut… Shower first…”
He stalked in to the shower room. It was empty. No doctors, living or dead variety in there.
“You’ll go first. I’ll wait out here and keep watch. Don’t take too long.” She shook her head and dashed in to nearest stall, and he could hear water gushing down, splattering on to her skin and from there down to tiled floor. He closed his eyes and leaned against locker behind his back. He was quite sure that none of the scenarios they had taught him had had anything about taking a shower in a middle of fucking operation. But her sudden desire for cleanliness was actually a good idea. It would be easier for him to detect possible threats when ripe scent of their own blood wasn’t blocking his senses.
“Your turn,” he heard her whispering and felt her stepping over him, droplets of water falling on him. He opened his eyes and let his gaze roam over her body. Curves and muscles in all the right places. Creamy skin. Long, brown hair falling down over her back. He dragged himself up from the floor and shuffled in to shower when his cock started to show signs of life. Not a good idea. Not the time or place to start drooling after her. He knew he wouldn’t be able to concentrate anything else but her if he stuck his cock in to that warm body of hers.
He tore of chafing armor of blood and cloth and stepped under the shower. Water was only lukewarm, and coupled with the excess heat his regenerative ability created it felt freezing, but he stood stubbornly under the spray, scrubbing off traces of his kills from his skin.
When he couldn’t smell blood anymore he turned his attention to his cock. It had taken rising interest to the fact that there was a fuckable female in the next room. Even the cold water pelting down on him didn’t have any power over it. He shut off the water and cursed his overactive libido before patting back in to the locker room.
The girl had already gotten dressed and was sitting on a bench in front of the lockers, facing the closed door that led to the corridor. Her whole posture screamed of attention and alertness. She was taking her watch seriously.
He noted slightly amused that she had finally found some clothes that fit. Pair of black jeans that hugged her hips and shapely legs like a second skin, and long-sleeved white shirt that looked like it was tailored for her.
“Cut off sleeves from that shirt and jeans.” She let her gaze flicker briefly over him upon his command and nodded.
“I thought about it, but I wasn’t sure if you’d like that…” She said picking up a pair of scissors that lay next to her on the bench and started clipping off parts from her clothes.
“Just don’t get too close to me when your skin is on and it’s just fine.”
He couldn’t deny that his command to reveal more of her body had most likely more to do with his basic urge to throw her down and fuck her senseless rather than anything else, but it gave her more protection from their living opponents. They couldn’t grab her that easily.
“I found this when I was looking for these scissors,” she said, waving a small plastic rectangular in the air. A keycard. Finally something was working as it should.
“Good. What about the codes?” He asked, pulling on jeans and a shirt he had found from the locker. They were a tight fit, jeans even tighter because of his almost painful erection, but he managed to tuck himself in relatively comfortably. She pulled out a small notebook.
“I can’t believe how stupid these people were. What good are all these locks and codes when anybody can get their hands on them?” She huffed, grinning from ear to ear. He grunted.
“Their loss, our gain. Ready to go?” He asked, stifling quite unmanly whimper when she stood up and twirled around.
She had cut her jeans high from her thighs, and currently they reminded more underpants than trousers. White shirt was sleeveless and tied under her breasts to reveal as much skin as possible. She had gathered her long hair to a messy bun on top of her head, and few tendrils had escaped, hanging loosely around her face. If she had replaced the blood soaked sneakers with knee-high boots nobody would have looked her twice out on the streets.
“I guess we’re ready…” He grunted, tearing his gaze off from her breasts and reached for the door handle. Her hand landed on his arm and he froze.
“We’re not ready yet.”
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