Trip To Battlefield
Journey to Westchester was long and hard. Several times they had to fend off crazed survivors. Couple times they lost all their equipment, but luckily they were easily replaced. Even though towns and cities meant greater risk to be attacked they stayed close to them, replacing supplies when needed. Either of them got sick. It was nearly summer when they arrived at Xavier’s.
“It was this bad?” She whispered, taking in her surroundings with disbelieving eyes. Nearly twenty years had passed from the battle. Nobody had yet claimed the land where mansion had once stood. Remains of it could still be seen. Part of foundation, pieces of wall here and there. Grass had covered the battlefield, but he had no difficulties to remember what it had looked like back then. He still remembered where every body had laid, position of every disfigured corpse.
“Yeah. It was bad. But at least they died quickly,” he croaked a partial lie. They hadn’t died quick enough.
Everything had started on a beautiful Sunday morning. They had been in Xavier’s office, for traditional tea and biscuits –breakfast. He still remembered.
“Careful, Logan!” He glanced up from the tiny porcelain cup he was holding and grinned to Scott.
“One morning I break one of these things,” he muttered, trying to cradle delicate cup as carefully as possible. Biscuits were like pieces of cardboard, tea wasn’t his thing, but he actually liked these get-togethers. Then, suddenly, the cup Professor was holding fell to floor, breaking to dozens of little pieces. His body slumped forward, and now everybody could see large, gaping hole at the back of his head. Next one to go was Jean…
He shivered despite of the warmness of the day. Marie didn’t seem to notice it. She was too busy scurrying around, trying to remember what it had been before. Before the fateful day. He could hear her talking.
“I think this was the rec room… Kitchen. Must be, because… Remember? How Kitty and Pjotr…” Sound of jet engines and explosions soon drowned her voice. He was in complete darkness, coughing up blood and concrete dust, trying to ease off heavy pillar that had pinned him down from his waist. He could hear people screaming. Wound on his chest had been healed ages ago, but pillar refused to let him go. It had been part of Cerebro at one point. His claws didn’t even make a scratch on its gleaming surface. When he finally managed to squirm loose from under it, there were no voices anymore. No screams and explosions. No moaning. No pleading. No whispers. Just silence.
He shrugged himself out of his memories.
“After they… Killed you guys, they demolished this whole place. Maybe to get rid of possible resistance groups. No Xavier’s School For The Gifted Youngsters, no people who remember it, no reason to protest and fight over what happened.”
“Can you show me where… Where you found us? I would like to say good bye to Bobby?” It was the first time she mentioned him.
“Over there. See that small branch?” He asked pointing to a right direction.
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