She expected Logan to bolt on his feet. Instead he stayed down on his back, leaning against his elbows, and it looked as if he tried to avoid Camo with his gaze, turning his head slightly every time the other mutant came to his field of vision. What the hell was he doing?
“I’m not going to look at you until you show yourself!” Logan shouted over Camo’s ranting. Sudden silence fell. Distorted patch of air in front of him started to solidify, until he could see faint outlines of a man. Few second more, and Camo stood there, panting, green eyes blazing from rage and grief, whole body shivering from pent up energy.
“She’s mine. You’re not going to touch her anymore,” Camo hissed, narrowing his eyes. He was naked. His skin was blotchy, with all imaginable colors imprinted on it. He was built much like Logan, muscular upper body, narrow waist and well-defined muscles bulging on his legs and arms. His face was oval-shaped. Dark, greenish hair slicked back, eyes glowing green.
“Bullshit. She belongs to nobody,” Logan spat, standing up slowly, eyeing Camo warily. He sheathed his claws and fastened his jeans. Camo’s nostrils flared.
“She’s not ready yet. But I’ll be taking her with me anyway. She’s better off with me than a savage like you,” he said, turning towards cabin.
“Like hell you will. I won’t let you take her. There’s no Adam. There’s no Eve. She terminated the project. Let her be, or…”
“Or what? You cut me up with your claws?” Camo snorted, twirling to face Logan, transforming until he was a perfect replica of him, slightly crouched, claws extending from his knuckles.
“That’s all you’re good for, Wolverine…”
She heard Camo calling Logan Wolverine. Logan tilted his head and his eyes narrowed.
“You have done your homework. You know what I do. You know I’m pretty damn impossible to put down. You really want to waltz with me?” He asked, mimicking Camo’s stance, claws sliding out once again.
It was unnerving, to not be able to smell your opponent. He had to play this by earshot, and good guessing never replaced the information you could collect from the scents coming off from the guy you were planning to chop up. Especially when said man was laughing at you.
“Big words from a small man! Yes, I want to have a go with you. In fact, I insist it. How else we are going to settle our little dispute?” Camo practically purred.
He had been waiting for it. Without scent he had been gouging Camo’s behavior, small telltales his body was sending. Camo was hard to read, but when he twitched slightly, Logan knew what to expect. When Camo charged towards him, claws so much like Logan’s extended, looking like he was planning to ram them through his gut, instead of retreating Logan stepped right on his path. Claws only nicked his side, and Camo barreled face first against his chest, making Logan stumble backwards before plunging his own claws through Camo’s back.
Instead of pained howl he had expected to hear, Camo was laughing again, spewing blood over Logan’s chest.
“My turn!” He fell on his knees in front of Logan, dove between his legs and before Logan had the time to react, Camo had plunged his claws straight through his back. He could see tips of them protruding from his stomach.
“Fuck, that hurts every time…” He gasped, twisting free, wounds already closing when he turned and kneed Camo under his jaw before other man had the time to stand up. He could hear bone fracturing, but he knew Camo’s jaw wouldn’t stay broken long.
It was brutal. Blood, gaping wounds, both men squirming and growling, teeth gnashing, limbs tangling, trading kicks and blows. She had no idea, which one of them was Logan; both looked the same, acted like mirror images of each other. That’s when she finally realized how serious the situation was. No matter who won, she would have to face the last one standing, alone. With no way of telling was it Logan or Camo. And she froze.
He could smell her fear. Marie was scared to shitless. Well, that made two of them. He couldn’t, wouldn’t let Camo take her, but what ever he threw to the guy, what ever moves he tried, Camo countered them. Laughed them off like they were nothing. Camo couldn’t get in his swipes and stabs either, but that wasn’t much of a consolation. Checkmate. They would beat each other up until one of them tired enough to make a mistake.
Finally he had that bastard pinned. He was straddling Camo’s thighs, both sets of claws rammed through his chest, tips of them sunken to the ground beneath them. Camo was struggling, and with every move Logan’s claws sliced the wounds on his chest little wider. He could feel Camo’s heart pulsing against the blades.
“Eve… I let her down… There were others… Keep her safe, Adam…” Man gurgled.
“I will.” Logan shifted a bit, lifting his right hand. Claws came out from Camo with sickening sound of metal grinding against bone. He sliced Camo’s head off before falling backwards on top of his legs. He lay there for a while, his knees bent, thighs stretching quite uncomfortably.
He was out of breath, covered with sweat and other bodily fluids, and not even half of that stuff was his. Yet when he rose back up he was staring at his own decapitated image. He managed to scramble off from the corpse and turn his back on it before acrid bile rising to the back of his throat made him gag. In the end Camo had lost one part of his mutation. Logan could now smell him. Smell blood, shit, puke and something dark and earthen underneath it all. Adam? So he was the fucking Adam now? Nominated to the job by the bastard who had stalked Marie. That thought made it impossible to brush back bile that was tickling his tonsils.
She had curled to a tight ball, deep under the cabin. Hiding her face behind her hands, trying to make herself disappear out of sheer willpower. Envying Camo. Fearing him. Fearing the outcome of the battle. When heavy footsteps approached and stopped in front of the porch, she didn’t look up. She nearly stopped breathing. She could hear small creaking sound, soaked denim chafing against skin. Somebody was crouching.
“I’m going to take care of few things. Stay put,” she heard Logan’s voice telling. Voice was his, but who she would see if she opened her eyes?
He dragged the body further to the forest, kicking the head in front of him as he went. Animals would take care of it, he was sure. He had seen several species of scavengers during the time they had spent in the cabin. He would just have to make sure Marie didn’t wander to this direction anytime soon.
That task taken care of he returned to cabin. Marie was still shivering under the porch. Good. He wouldn’t have to chase her down later. He walked around the cabin, going to the well at the backside of it. He had to get all the muck off before it dried on him. He couldn’t stand the stench of it any longer.
Water was cold, but it was fresh, clear and clean. After dousing several buckets of it on him Logan stripped off his jeans and boots. Boots were okay. Those he could wash. Jeans he would burn. Few more buckets of water, and he felt clean enough to enter the cabin. He crossed the porch carefully, making some noise so that Marie would realize he wasn’t trying to sneak around. Found a pair of black pants. Not as comfortable as jeans would have been, but he donned them, and loose fitting black shirt he found. Took a kettle filled with berries and walked outside with it. Sat on the ground, keeping good distance between him and the porch and started eating. Marie would come out eventually. He knew she needed this. Needed to see which one of her suitors had won.
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