It was the rumble of thunder in a clear sky that made Hank wonder about the mansion, then he saw the plume of dark smoke rising over the trees.
Fire.
Whatever had happened had destroyed the mansion, the people around him were nervous as it was, several vehicles had left earlier with children. Their faces pinched and drawn, Peiter was still here with him guarding the body bag that held Xaiver. Kitty had gone on ahead with a bus full of quiet kids, she'd told the big man she loved him and if the worst happened she'd raise their baby well. The moment was so full of love he'd had to turn away from it, that something so full of hope had been born out of so much death.
He wasn't stupid, he knew what forces would have come to the mansion and it wouldn't just be The Brotherhood. They don't have artillery and he heard artillery pieces firing. Something had changed in the grand scheme of things and now being different was a matter of life and death. If you were different, you died.
When the first lot of injured came through he almost went to help but they scattered, flying, transporting, running or just hobbling away as fast as possible. There were no attempts made to stop them by those waiting for Emma; faces that were shell-shocked and stunned passed by silently. They made no noise but the movement of their passage, wounds glared at him as they passed but if he'd attempted to stopthem he'd have been in danger. They didn't trust anyone, not even him, everyone was coming to terms with how the world had changed for them in just a few hours.
Peiter touched his arm and motioned to the bag, it was time to check the fluids. Making sure the larger man was in front of the bag Hank opened the zipper, the face of their destroyer laid there for all to see if they passed close enough. Lifting the sugar/saline mix Hank noticed the level had dropped significantly, there was plumpness back to his skin. Looking over at the large man he nodded to him and put the bag back, touching the warm body Hank felt a brush over his mind. A dreamlike touch, but definitely from the man below him, quickly Hank drew an amount of drugs out and pushed it direct into the body. Checking the pupils as they dilated, finally happy he drew the zipper closed again, the last thing they needed was Xavier waking up.
It was Peiter who spoke first as the last few came through the forest, Jubilee, Bobby, Kurt, Spectar, Emma and Ororo. "Storm!"
Every single one of them looked like they'd been through hell and it was still chasing them, Emma barked out orders to those who were still waiting for her. "Get the vehicles going, we're going to have to ride hard out of here. Get your shields up and make sure everyone in your group knows where they're meeting up with everyone else. We don't know if they have a telepath with them and if they'll be following us." People moved quietly, quickly and Hank was surprised how fast everything was done, he was ensconced within a truck with his precious cargo. Jubilee was with him, her happiness long gone making her look the complete opposite of the person he'd seen yesterday. A song rose unbidden in his mind 'What a difference a day makes' but this was no happy lovers ending. It was the beginning of hostilities and after today it would only get worse.
Emma's face plunged into their vehicle, her face was serious and her words clipped "Your heading up to Speculator, Hamilton County, mountain country, theres not much up there so you'll be hard to track. It'll be a couple of days before we can come and get you, is there anything you need for 'it'." Emma's eyes dropped to the bag laid out at their feet. Hank pulled his frame toward Emma and she backed off a little as the bulk of Hank's angry frame filled her space.
"Yes, fluids. I can't keep him stable without them." Emma looked at their driver, a man with dreadlocks that shifted without a breeze.
"Get them what they need Howard, do it quiet but get it." The man nodded his assent and Emma just patted Jubilee on the arm, "You'll be okay, Howard is one of my best, we'll be meeting up in about four days. Just enough time to get everyone safe and across the border, we're going to have to cross illegally and that'll be risky. They'll be expecting it, that’s why the kids have already left." She looked at her watch before continuing, "We've got papers for kids going on fieldtrips so they should be safe, it's just the adults I have to worry about. Keep yourselves hidden if possible," her gaze went to Hank who just smiled without a piece of humour in it.
"Of course."
"Good luck and safe journey. See you on Tuesday!" Emma slammed the door shut on them and watched as they drove out of the forest. She only hoped that they'd be something to find when they went to get them but something was telling her that it wasn't over yet.
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Men were doing their best picking up bodies of mutants, piling them high on the destroyed lawn. Their own dead were wrapped in black body bags, flashing lights were coming down the mangled road. The fire that had consumed the large mansion was now seriously out of control, the sparks of ash were spiralling high and floating out over the forest. A danger of forest fire and as such had to be dealt with immediately, the fire trucks were let through but they had an armed escort that kept the fire-fighters at their job and not straying into things that didn't concern them. When it was out the bodies of the soldiers were gone, as were the rest of the artillery that had caused the destruction of the once proud school.
All that was left was the pile of mutant terrorists, stacked high like a pyre, sightless eyes all looking into the sun that had just past it's zenith. Armed men surrounded the pyre, just as the police and swat teams arrived. A man dressed in deep green fatigues saluted the officer in charge and passed something over, it took only moments to read but the message was clear.
He waved his men to the pyre; they changed places and the soldiers melted away as if they'd never been there. Not even a shell casing was left behind, they were never there, this never happened. It was a battle between mutant terrorists against a school filled with children. That was the message the police would give over when the newscrews turned up, there never was a military presence here. It was pointed out perfectly in black and white, to think any differently would end up with things going badly wrong for someone above and as the officer knew, shit always rolls *down* the chain of command.
As the last man in green drove away, the commander looked at his men, their faces were drawn and their skin pallid. The whole thing was a massacre; his fingers went to the small golden chain around his neck and the small symbol that hung on it. A six pointed star, given to him by a fraternal uncle when he'd been recognised as a 'man'. He'd always liked his uncle, he'd been strange to many other kids in the family but he'd understood. He'd seen the marks on his skin, the scars on his back, the ink on his arm the five-digit number that he'd cover every time someone's eyes dropped to it.
Remembering the words of the Rabbi when he'd been a young angry man, his words of wisdom only reaching him now when he too had grandchildren to lose. "My son, there are many mistakes a man can make but the biggest of all is not to remember how such things started. It started out of fear of the different, when a man fears the different he fears God. And a man who fears God but destroys his creations is a man to watch." His fingers dropped the golden Shield of David around his neck and he barked out an order to the police standing around the pyre.
"Get those bodies laid out, for God's sake they're humans not animals!"
He knew he'd pay for this later but his own conscience wouldn't allow him to leave them like this. They were human no matter what others thought; they'd thought his own people were animals once. Over five million had died and he looked at the pile of bodies in front of him, for those in power this was a good start but he'd be damned if he'd help turn them into animals.
It was late afternoon when the newscrews came, by then they had enough dead to lay over the once fertile garden with cooling flesh. A garden of broken flowers that had once been breathing smiling people, when the newscrews took pictures he didn't stop them talking to his men. Covered in blood and mud from handling the corpses, seeing the damage done to them and their questions about how it had happened.
All he'd seen was one of his men go down to a small figure, no more than a child really and plunge his fingers inside her body. His eyes filled with tears; red-faced he dropped a bullet into the reporter’s hand. Pulled his own weapon free and slid a bullet into her hand and asked her if they matched. The silence that filled the entire field was enough to make the heavens roar with it. He was making it clear that they didn't do this, they hadn't been here and killed so many as if they were pests to be destroyed.
The newscaster had just held up the bullets, one obviously a rifle round the other a revolver. Her eyes drifting to the field of dead that stretched away into the distance. Behind her the scene of policemen trying to identify the bodies, pulling fingerprints, searching for wallets. Hardened men crying openly as they went through the lines of bodies, a field of the dead, laid out for the camera's to record. Even after the sun had fallen the newscrews were here from around the world, taking picture after picture of the faces. And as the news spread out across the world so did the hunt for the perpetrators of this massacre.
Yet sat watching in his car the chief knew the truth would never come out, all that would be seen was the death of a thousand or so mutants and the destruction of a school for mutants. Flicking his radio to life in his car he asked to be put through to his home. He told his wife to get their granddaughter out of the city, to go visit his uncle in England. To take everyone they could and go, she didn't question him the only sign of her distress was a small quaver in her voice. But she did as he asked and they flew out before he'd even made it home. He'd done the best he could for his family now he had to deal with the flack about his men and those he was going up against had more power than he had but he'd do his best for every single one of them. They weren't perfect, he knew that but there were many like him with family members who were 'different'. He'd given a small speech to each group under his command and several had sloped off for a few hours to sort out 'things'. When they'd returned they'd all checked in with him and he could see that he had their loyalty. In times like this he needed every piece of luck and loyalty he could get. Things would only get worse from here.
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Logan was tired, they'd been going south for a couple of hours now, and they were dangerously near New York. Approaching the highway they slunk along the edge as the sun began to heat up the air. Keeping to the edges they watched traffic go by, hoping for a gap so they could get across and into the mess of storage on the other side. Just over the edge of the road lay a goldmine for them, a truckers rest stop, they could jump aboard a truck and go somewhere away from here. Looking for Canadian plates would be best; they'd hopefully find a truck on its way back and jump aboard.
Marie was numb, hair strung back with cord she was about to snap, skin cracking with dirt and blood she needed to get clean, soon. Resting her hand on Logan's shoulder she motioned to the small block that sat at the far edge of the park. There were always rest places here, a place a trucker could get a shower, eat, and rest up before taking the long journey back home. Twenty-four hours a day they were open and at the moment it looked like heaven, there even looked to be a small motel too. "Logan...." she whispered to him her voice close to breaking. "Ah need to get clean...please...." her tears ran hot and fierce as he turned his grim face to look into her red eyed gaze. She watched his anger fading as her realised her state of mind.
They'd been travelling fast, covering ground so quickly; he'd dragged her along, not caring if she was hurt. They had to get away, had to survive, it was all he'd been concentrating on. Now they looked as if they'd made it, he just wanted to get out of the US and back into Canada. He had friends there; places they could hide in while this blew over, if it ever did. He nodded to her, "Okay, a couple of hours no more." Her eyes lightened a little as he gripped her hand, "Come on, we'll get us a ride."
Covering the ground quickly they got over the road, dodging traffic to lose themselves in the vast mixture of trucks and containers. Using his sense of smell Logan found a container they might need, slashing through the seals he opened a door. Clothing wrapped in plastic and tagged lined the rails inside. Moving quickly he snatched two large down jackets, three pairs of trousers, some shirts, jumpers and t-shirts. Giving them for Marie to hold as he shut the door again, she was already unwrapping them and throwing the plastic behind the container. Shedding her military greens fast and bundling them into a ball, using a plastic bag to carry them in. Soon she looked as if she's just dropped in from the woods, her figure hidden by the large sizes but it looked better than a named tunic.
Logan did the same, carrying his own down jacket in hand they walked toward the small motel. Plucking out the cash he'd liberated from the dead soldiers he motioned Marie to the one on the far end, the small little red door beckoning her. He went direct to the office, paid for the room for six hours, got the key, pushed it into her shaking hand. "Get washed, sleep and I'll be back soon. Lock the door behind you, I'll make my own way in." She understood what he was saying; he'd pick the lock to get in later. Checking the area for unusual things and finding it clear he kissed her quickly, then he was gone.
Shaking she opened the door, leaning on it when she snapped the lock home. Taking the sturdy wooden chair she braced it against the doorknob, if anyone tried to get in while she was in the shower she'd hear it. Shaking she caught her reflection, blood was caked in her hair, it streaked down her skin. She looked like a crash survivor, thing is the only thing she'd seen had been the death she'd dealt herself. Her stomach flipped at the memory and she fought the urge to throw up hot bile, holding her stomach for what seemed like an age while she breathed in the stale air of the room.
Taking a good look around she didn't see a tv only a radio chained to the wall. Snapping it on she let the music fill the space around her as she undid the large coat. Dropping it onto the bed she went into the tiny bathroom, it was cramped, stained and leaky but at the moment it looked like heaven.
Stripping her new clothing stepping into the tub as she turned on the water, letting it run through her matted hair. Turning her back to the water as it flowed over her, pink water ran down, suddenly turning brown as she dislodged a chunk of dried blood. Bits of leaf litter fell out of her curls, turning herself to clean the skin of her face. As the water ran across her skin she felt it light up, her memory suddenly filled with the faces of the men she'd killed. Every one of them there with her, trapped in the moment of their deaths. Under the water she herded them together inside her mind, burning them up, destroying what they were until there was nothing left of them but the small residuals they always left her with. She had a feeling she could strip an M-4 in her sleep and she knew how a M-107 felt when it kicked like a mule into your shoulder. Pieces of knowledge were stuck to her soul like the blood in her hair, picking up the worn soap next to the tiny sink she scrubbed her hair.
As it cleaned away the blood from her body she felt the presence of these men fade but it didn't do anything for her. She'd killed, her vengeance on Xavier and Scott paled into insignificance now, she'd killed *soldiers*, men trained to kill, she'd enjoyed it, loved the feeling of their fear, the sharp tang of it around their bodies as they'd died. What was she? Stood under the warm rain of the shower she looked at her reflection in the metal mirror over the sink. Warped and puckered out of proportion she looked like a harpy, an image of a demon filled her mind. Something from Asia, a woman dark skinned with a tongue poking out of her mouth, blood and bodies everywhere she went. Something one of the men she'd killed had seen, something he'd compared her to when she'd killed him. Kali, that was the name, Kali. Looking at her reflection she turned away and cleaned the rest of the death from her body, her mind was another matter entirely and she knew no matter how much Logan held her she'd be feeling cold for a long time to come.
Logan went to the trucks, walking around the place he fitted in a man hunched over, minding his own business as his eyes scanned for a Canadian truck. A group of men were clustered around a small television ahead of him and the commentary caught his hearing. "Attack on a school, at this moment we aren't sure what prompted the attack but as you can see the fire is under control now and the crews are pulling out now that damping down has been finished." Logan moved up with a couple of others, their bodies unwashed and filling his nose with the scent of tobacco and sweat. His eyes though were locked onto the screen, what it showed was what was left of the mansion. A burned out piece of rubble, but it was the bodies laid out along the lawn that had the men around him shaking their heads. They didn't comment about what was on screen they just listened to the commentator, who seemed to repeat the same things over and over. "We have no comments at all from the police chief, his men are starting to take steps to identify the dead, at the moment the body count is around 400 individuals, mainly adults. Of the students that were registered here there is no sign and as yet no one had been able to contact Mr Xavier or knows of his whereabouts. Whatever occurred here has been a shock for local residents who saw the smoke rising and called the fire department." The screen showed the fire trucks beginning to move away, the faces of the men streaked with ash and soot. Yet there was something else in their gaze that Logan recognised, anger. They were angry, normal men were being told what they could and could not say and that meant only one thing to Logan.... Government. The pictures settled on a small body just being zipped up into a black bag, the camera man being jostled out of the way by two policemen, their faces saying what their voices couldn't. All the bodies were mutants, all the dead soldiers had been removed already, there was no sign of them anywhere. All that there was was a driveway that looked like it had been ploughed, tank tracks will do that if the road surface can't take the weight.
Looking around the men he was stood with he felt the change in the air as the woman reporter came back on screen her face suddenly full of life. "We've just been told by our head office that a group has claimed responsibility for the massacre here at Xaivers School for the Gifted. A group calling themselves The Brotherhood of Mutants has just released a video online, their spokesperson a mutant known by the name of Mystique has just released a statement.....We’re just lining it up now so please stay with us....." Logan put his hand on the man in front of him and pushed him aside. Eyes locked onto the screen he waited like the rest of them for the announcement.
A backdrop with the symbol of The Brotherhood was there behind a desk with a seated Mystique, her eyes blazing out at the viewers, in front of her was empty space. But her skin was covered by a suit; her blue face was incongruous with the white of the blouse she was wearing. Her sneer though was usual; he listened as she spoke her litany of hate toward Xavier and his tolerance of humankind. That if she had her way there would be no other kind but hers, that today they'd struck a blow for mutantkind everywhere. That now there were no more places for tolerance, that there was only the fight. Logan caught her eyes as they narrowed slightly, seeing her twitch a little as something stopped her flow of words. He'd fought this bitch more than once and she never stopped talking unless she was finished, plus she was so damn proud of her skin she'd shown her ass to the president more than once. So why the hell was she dressed up now? Her hand jumped on the table and he knew why she was dressed, why she was stressing words like 'fight', 'freedom', 'tolerance'and 'humankind'. She was being shocked; pads on her sensitive skin were being shocked while she delivered her speech of hatred to the world. Mystique ended her tirade with the usual; 'We will fight until there is no one left to stand against us' speech. He'd heard it from Magneto often enough to know that it was from rote. They had her and the video was a plant, all to stir up trouble, all to make life more difficult and to give the assholes out there a reason to kill mutants.
The men around him began to talk, some were on the side of the government but there were some like him that smelled a rodent. The group quickly split into two groups and anger was colouring the air thickly, moving himself away from the centre of it he continued his search for a truck.
Three rows down he spotted one, a huge sky blue Kenworth, it looked a little road soiled but it's plates read Manitoba Province. It'd hauled a long way in a short time and Logan hoped that this was its home voyage. As he approached a man dressed in warm clothing even though the sun was shining down on the large tarmaced area walked from the back of the Kenworth. Seeing Logan he stopped dead and straightened his shoulders, he knew trouble when he saw it and looked Logan dead centre as he approached him.
Silence reigned for a while as both men sized the other up, they were a near match for weight but Logan could sense the trepidation coming off the man in front of him. "I need passage north, you headin' back?" The driver looked Logan over, seeing the new clothes, the mess of his hair and just nodded. Logan continued while looking over the truck, "Me and my girl, we need to get to Poplar River? You know it?" Finally the driver spoke his voice old and gravel rich, his eyes flashing at the man who was brave enough to ask for help from him.
"Yeah I know it," the accent was one he hadn't heard for a while and it soothed his nerves a little. "I ain't going anywhere near it though, I'm due at Swan River, other side of the Province." He squared up to Logan, folding his arms to prove the point he wasn't going to be budged about his destination.
"What time you leavin?" The man was taken aback a little when Logan still pressed the question to him.
"Not till this evenin' got another three hours to kill before I'm back out on the road."
"You willin to take payin' guests?" The trucker narrowed his eyes.
"You got passports?" When Logan didn't answer him the trucker just winced and whistled to himself, turning his head down he looked at Logan through his eyelashes. Shaking his head he looked at Logan, making his mind up he put his hand out to him "Mason Grabner."
Logan took the hand and felt the mans grip nearly matched his own, "Patch."
"Just Patch huh?" Logan nodded and Mason let go of his hand, "Well 'Patch' it'll cost ya three hundred US for both of ya. You'll be in the back of my rig, theres a place I store food in you can squeeze into but it'll only be for three miles. Hope your woman ain’t any bigger than you."
"No she's smallish, anything else you need from us?" Logan was looking into the man as he began to turn away from him. Seeing and sensing nothing apart from honesty.
"Nope, just be here before the sun goes down that's all. When that ball sets we're gone." Logan watched the man walk back to his truck; he had to get three hundred dollars from the fifty he had on him right now. Food came next for Marie, then it looked like he'd be doing a little bare knuckle bettin'. Nothing like truckers after a hard day at the wheel, they always needed someone to let their frustrations out on. Smiling he went to get some food then he'd be getting the money for their trip north. Bloodsport would wait; it wasn't as if he didn't have the time to find him later. He survived it was what he did best.
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Ro' woke to the feeling of a towel on her skin, shaking off the feeling of being enclosed she opened her eyes. She was laid on a back seat; Emma was with her leaning over from the front passenger seat. "How you feeling?"
Ro' pushed herself up from the seat and looked through the windscreen; they were in a queue for a tollgate. Emma quickly looked forward and back at Ro' before talking to her. "We're on the border, I need you to keep quiet and drop back down on the seat. You can keep your eyes open just don't speak, I'm having a hard time keeping everyone together as it is."
Ro' knew about Emma, she was supposed to be in league with Magneto, well that was what Scott had told her in the weekly briefings. But when she'd gone to her school she'd been allowed to wander around with impunity and it looked as if she'd known who she was from the start. If she'd been part of Magneto's Brotherhood why did she allow her to do that? Answering her question Emma spoke to the car as the line moved forward. "Because I wouldn't play ball with Charles, I preferred my students to have a choice about who they consorted with, human or mutant. I didn't make that choice for them; I never made either set of students better than the other. And as for me being on the side of Erik, the only side he was ever on was his own. The death camps taught him that." Emma was still looking out of the window when she just told her to lay down. Ro' did it; her mind still filled with the images of death and disaster all around her. Closing her eyes she drifted off into a dreamless sleep, her body recovering from the strain she'd put on it earlier.
As Emma felt Ro's mind drift off she let her mental hold slip over the woman, the last thing they needed was for her to let her own mental guard down. Concentrating on the border guards she let their minds fill her own, she'd let them look inside her truck but they wouldn't find Ro' or the others in the back. All they'd see would be luggage; clear plastic boxes all labelled up for ease of movement later. There were three other trucks filled with her people, they had documents covering the others with them, even so she was stretched to her limits. She wasn't as powerful as Xavier but she had enough to fool a border guard or three. Seeing one of theirs pass through she smiled as it powered away, they wouldn't have long to wait and she couldn't help but wonder how Rogue and Wolverine had gotten on. She'd seen him just before Ro' had fallen, running with Rogue. She hoped they made it, if not she didn't think about the prospect of rescuing them. If the military had them they had no chance, she only hoped they'd gotten away in time. Pulling her thoughts to her own car she set the illusion and put a disinterested smile on her face. It was just another field trip, the kids were waiting for her ahead and she had a few moments peace. When she finally got to the guard she loosed her mind on his, never letting it go until all of them were ten miles away.
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Logan came back to find Marie sleeping in the bed, the radio on the wall was playing music but it was the news bulletins that kept his attention. Bruises were fading on his face but he had a decent amount now, nearly two thousand. They'd be okay as long as he guarded what they spent, He'd give the US money to the trucker, and he’d change it as he went, keeping the Canadian for their journey. The bag in his hand held food, high fat, high protein, high sugar, she'd be starving when she woke after healing all that damage. How she'd managed to get this far with him was a mark in her favour, before he'd taken her out into the wilds she'd have collapsed before now. Shaking her shoulder she came round with a start, pushing the cheese into her hand with an "Eat." She just wiped her face with the back of her hand and began in on the lump he'd given her. It didn't last long; her hand went back into the bag and came out with a lump just as big. It didn't make it any longer than the last one, next was jerky, two whole packets to herself while he ate the last of the cheese. "Slow down, you'll regret it when it hits." She finally noticed that the light was almost gone from the day, the final fingers of the light were weaving over room as Logan shifted around checking things and wiping stuff down. Taking a bottle from the bag he poured bleach down the sink, the toilet and the shower, every place she'd been he bleached. As they were cleaning up, the radio crackled into life, a voice harsh and hurried was running along with a reporter, obviously a tv newscast that was also going out via radio.
"We're here in Crotona Park, where a rally has suddenly started," voices were raised shouting out the commentary. The voice came back suddenly, "Their talking about the announcement made by the leader of The Brotherhood of Mutants, there's at least three thousand people here, all of them angry, all of them scared and frustrated at the governors approach to the massacre that occurred today at the grounds of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. The message here seems to be one of 'strike first ask questions later', never has the mood of the public been so rabid, so violent toward the mutant community. Reports of city-wide violence toward mutants and families with mutant children. It seems as if things have been suddenly escalated..." The commentary broke off there as something crashed into the middle distance. "JESUS CHRIST! MARCUS, Marcus get IN here!" Silence reigned as the sound of a door shutting and the noise of an engine rumbled through the small speaker as the images of the sounds ran through their minds.
Bricks, bottles hit the van, smashing glass and swerving tyres, then the shaky voice of the announcer came back. "I'm not sure how much of that actually got to you all but if you didn't let me describe it to, my camera man was filming the crowd when someone noticed him. A shout went up, something like 'mutie-lover'," the voice of the cameraman came in shakily confirming that was the word. "And they attacked him, I had to pull him out of range of the mob and ladies and gentlemen let me tell you what we have here in New York is a mob. Out for blood, out for vengeance or whatever but this reporter wonders if they actually thought about what they were saying or doing, seeing as the massacre today mainly affected the very people they're trying to hurt. As far as been reported out of the five hundred and forty deaths there has been no human casualty found. Although by the end of tonight there be many more before the night is over."
Logan looked at the radio and flicked it off, seeing the standing tears in Marie’s eyes and knowing she was blaming herself for some of those deaths. They'd been attacked and they'd survived, it was obvious she'd feel guilt but him? He'd been surviving so long it no longer bothered him but seeing Marie's tears he realised it should have. She didn't let him go as they left the small room and returned the key, he pulled her toward the blue Kenwood and the man who was patiently waiting outside his truck for his passengers. The night was coming and they had to be sharp, it wasn't over not by a long chalk.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
We catch up with Hank and Xavier, people flood in and scatter but where will Emma take all of those that want to come with her?