Landing was a bit tricky, front of the gas station was riddled with abandoned cars. Summers managed to bring the jet down with a narrow marginal, they’d had to move few of the trucks blocking their way before they could rest, but that had to wait. Patrons of the gas station had obviously heard about them. As soon as Summers lowered the loading ramp to let Marie and Logan out they attacked, wielding improvised weapons. Shovels, baseball bats and even shotguns. At some point they had run out of shells so there was no real threat involved. Logan was able to fend them off easily.
“Two got away. We better keep an eye on them. They’ll be back, sooner or later,” he grunted, eyeing the carnage laid out on the ramp in front of them.
“Ready to go, kid?” He asked. Marie standing at his side merely nodded and skipped down the ramp after him. Now she was jittery, even more so when she realized exactly how easy it was to hide between cars and buildings.
“I’ll move those trucks, watch my back,” he said.
If they were lucky the trucks would have keys and enough gas in them. If not, he’d have to haul them aside by sheer willpower. Jean had nearly burnt off her telekinetic abilities few weeks earlier and was still slowly recovering.
Lady Luck was for once favouring them. Both of the trucks were cooperating and in no time the landing zone was clear, they could take off as soon as the need to do so arose. They held a brief meeting in front of the jet. An important, high-level meeting, like they did every time when an opportunity to spend a night in real bed presented itself.
“Heads and I’ll take the bed with the Kid,” Logan said. Summers tossed the coin. For a fleeting second Logan considered calling off the bet, Scott and Jean really could have used a night together, but one look at Marie confirmed him that she deserved at least a chance for a night off.
Coin fell.
“Heads,” Summers called it. Logan smelt a lie on him, but didn’t call it. Summers probably had a good reason for wanting to spend the night in the jet with Jean.
It wasn’t much, but it was their first chance of privacy in three whole weeks. Small and dingy backroom of the gas station with one narrow bed and the adjoining bathroom. Air in there smelt a bit stale, but for some reason the people who had taken shelter from the station hadn’t used the small apartment so it was clean. They walked in and Logan closed the door, then barricaded it with a heavy dresser that he dragged in front of it. Marie was already undressing, tearing off her clothes as she walked towards the bathroom.
“You want to fuck?” He asked. Considering the injuries she sustained at the mercies of the dogs earlier it was highly unlikely, but it couldn’t hurt to ask.
“I think about it,” she promised, then closed the bathroom door.
Fuck. A bit crass, but that’s all there really was. After you spend your days slaughtering people like they were cattle you really had no tender feelings left, only something vaguely resembling the need of comfort.
He could hear the water running. He could see her in his mind’s eye, curled over the sink, rinsing the ivory skin of her face, arms and breasts with cold tap water. She’d throw back her head to keep her hair from getting wet. She’d complain that the water was cold. In the end she’d send him to hunt a bottle of shampoo because she wanted to wash her hair too.
The door of the bathroom cracked partially open.
“Logan?”
“Yeah. I’ll go and see if they have any shampoo in there,” he huffed and grabbed the dresser, moving it carefully aside.
“Thanks.”
“No prob, kid. Just be careful. Those two sick morons are still out there. If somebody tries to get in, make sure it’s me before you open the door.”
He was standing in a small convenient store in front of two bottles of shampoo that were left on the shelf when his receiver crackled.
“Radar picked up movement behind the station,” Summers’ voice carried over, a mere whisper.
“Copy that. Will check it out,” he answered with equally quiet and low voice. Again the receiver crackled.
“Logan? Is that you behind the door?” Marie.
“No. I’m still trying to decide if you want apple or strawberry,” he answered.
“Bring both. And be careful. There are two customers waiting,” she warned him.
“Copy that, darling. Anything else you need?”
“Just you.”
“Over and out.”
He crept quietly to the back door of the small apartment he now shared with Marie. There were two men standing, one of them trying to open the door, the other standing in lookout. He walked to them calmly, the small basket with Marie’s shampoos in it hanging over his arm. Just a regular guy returning home from a brief shopping spree.
“What’s up, fellows?” He asked. Both men turned to look at him. Their eyes took in his appearance. Black leather uniform. Radio mounted on his shoulder. Rust coloured blood splatter adorning his hands and chest. For a long moment they just stared at him. Then suddenly realization dawned on them.
“Shit. You’re one of them, aren’t you?” Taller of the two men asked.
“I guess I am.”
“And that broad inside... She’s with you?”
“Yeah.”
“And you’re here to... Kill us?”
“Yeah.”
Two men posed no real threat to him. He didn’t even have to drop the basket he was carrying, they were dumb enough to try and attack him. One he left with a broken neck, the other died of broken heart, quite literally. Logan’s claws made short work of his ribcage. After it was over he knocked on to the door.
“Kid? It’s me. Open up.”
The door cracked open and Marie stepped aside to let him in. Her gaze swept over the two corpses, then she closed the door.
“This is madness, Logan. This... This is insane,” she said.
“You have a better way to deal with them?” He asked.
“We could just let them die on their own.”
“And risk the Legacy mutating again? Thanks, but no thanks, kid. I rather take care of it now than wait for it to turn against us again.”
“But do we really have to kill them all?”
“Um... Shit. I’m going to wash up and get in to bed. You can stay up and play twenty questions with Scott. I’m sure he’d appreciate your newly found morale far better than I...”
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