Lights. Cameras. And the Word.
Reverend William Stryker was a soldier in a past life, and a showman in this one.
The church was flooded with members and guests, all of them awed by the spectacle before them. Enormous digital screens surrounded the main stage, magnifying the camera’s feed to larger than life. Flood lights, lasers and strobe flashed and illuminated the gathering while popular Christian music filled the air from myriad speakers set into the columns.
In a nearby opera box, Senator Kelly looked on in amusement.
“I haven’t seen special effects like these since my wife and I took in the Phantom at the Met,” he murmured. His aide smiled and nodded.
“I’ve heard the Reverend gets wordy.”
“He’s pretty devout. Great speaker, but it’s his motives that worry me.”
“He has a pretty big demographic following him, Senator. Read last week’s issue of Time. His approval ratings just shot up eight points.”
“People are afraid of mutants.”
“That goes without saying, sir.”
“More accurately, they’re afraid of what they can do.”
“Aren’t you?”
“No. I’m afraid of what they could do if they were provoked. And who’s to say something like this won’t provoke them?”
“It’s an organized gathering at a church, what’s the harm in that? It’s not like these people are outside, picketing in the streets! No sandwich boards, no pitchforks. It’s practically a picnic!”
“You mean a rock concert,” he shot back, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Earplugs?”
“Here you go, sir.” He pressed a pair of small green foam buds into his palm and smiled.
*
The maintenance workers marked their latest chore up to one more detail that Human Resources never filled them in on during orientation.
“Union contract doesn’t say anything about handling a corpse,” one of them muttered.
“Least they aren’t old. Heard they stink ta high heaven once they get ripe.”
“Whoo. Nasty.” He made a sour face as he peered under the shroud covering the gurney. “Shame, though.”
“What?”
“Have ya seen this one? Mutie or not, she’s damned fine. What a waste of a body.”
“Can’t mark it up to good genes.”
“Who can’t?”
“She’s a mutie freak! The Reverend’s right, they don’t deserve to live.”
“So what you’re telling me is that if you saw a woman who looked like this, and you didn’t know she was a mutie, you wouldn’t buy her a drink and take her home?” He smirked and licked his lips as he gazed down at the cold, still face peeking through the zippered fold of the shroud. “Don’t want to try any mutie booty?”
“Man, you’re sick.”
“C’mon!”
“You’re not right in the head. Don’t make me use the company’s one-whiff policy to make ‘em can you.”
“Take the stick out of your ass. C’mon. You know you’ve thought about it.”
“Uh-uh.”
“Pussy.”
“Up yours. Let’s go. Rollin’ these two around is giving me the heebie-jeebies.” They stood and waited for the center elevator, which would take them down to the sub-basement.
The doors dinged and slid open smoothly, letting Anne out to nearly collide with them. She was out of breath and bleeding from a gash in her cheek. Her hair was wild and she was out of breath.
“What’s that?” she cried, eyeing the wide pallet gurney.
“Muties. Dead ones. We’ve gotta get rid of ‘em.”
“Go, Quick. Don’t stop for anyone, and if anyone asks you to, use this.” She slapped a sidearm into the taller one’s palm. He was so startled he nearly dropped it.
“I ain’t licensed t’pack heat!”
“Consider this your license: More muties are on their way inside and they’re gunning for the Reverend. If they make it into the auditorium, it’s our collective ass. You get me?”
“Y-yeah, sweetheart, I get it.”
“Good.” She peered down at the gurney again. “Where are you going with these?”
“Basement. Incinerator.”
“That’s extreme,” she said, but her voice was approving and thoughtful. She opened the shroud further and peered into Scott’s face. His face was handsome without the freakish red glasses he’d worn when they processed him. “But whatever you do, hurry it up. We don’t want the press getting wind of this and tracing it back to us. No one sees you go downstairs, understand?”
“Downstairs where?” one of the men mocked. “We don’t have a downstairs.” They shared a measured look.
“Good boy.” She left them and ran toward the stairwells to check the security exits. They couldn’t be compromised. She stopped at a phone by the door and punched in the code for backup.
“I need you up on thirty-fifth. Copy?”
They could manage the X-Men, even if it was just to divert them. They had to keep them away from Xavier.
*
In William’s dressing room, his stylist put the finishing touches on his suit and makeup, smoothing the lapels.
“Very dapper. You look nice.”
“You’re making me blush.”
“Careful with the lights over the podium; don’t let your tech make them too yellow. It doesn’t work for your coloring, sir.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Make sure to seat yourself up front!” He smiled and patted her fondly before she packed up her case to leave.
“I’ll be back later, Reverend.”
“Phillip? You’re leaving?”
The doctor sighed and stretched, working a kink out of his neck. “I’m bushed. I need some fresh air and the light of day. I’ve been working around the clock.”
“Of course you have! Go ahead, then, rest up, have a nice dinner! You’ve earned it, Phil.”
“Likewise. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t miss the festivities.”
He took his leave, accompanied by two guards. He never went anywhere without them since beginning his assignment, and he didn’t regret it.
He climbed into the back of a silver limousine in the parking garage, glad it was one of the few cars that William had in his fleet that didn’t bear the FOH insignia, tags or plates. It helped to keep a low profile.
“Home, please,” he nodded to his driver.
An unfamiliar pair of golden eyes peered back at him from the rearview mirror.
“Not yet, herr doctor,” he crooned.
“You’re not Smith!” he cried as he backed as far into the rear seat as he could, trying to scramble back out the door. “Get back…GUARD!” The two staffers who’d escorted him were already heading back through the gate before they heard his voice. They looked panicked and drew their guns from their holsters.
They could have sworn they saw a dark form in the front seat…flicking a tail back and forth?
“FREEZE, MUTIE!”
“Stay back…I’m warning you…I know how to deal with your kind!”
“Jerk,” Kitty hissed as she rose up ghostlike through the upholstery. His heart nearly stopped at the sight of her young face scowling up at him. “No one wants to listen to you.”
“What? MMMMPPHH!” She clapped her hand over his mouth and concentrated as hard as she could.
She phased him through the car. Her entire body tingled with the effort and she fell limp, dropping him against the pavement. “OH!” Then, “OW!”
“Get away from me, freak! Go! Tell the Reverend! Shoot them!”
“I think not.” Kurt ‘ported ahead of him and stopped him in his tracks. His fanged smile gleamed in the darkness of the garage. “That’s no way to talk to a child.”
“M’not a child,” Kitty complained faintly.
“That’s no child, and you’re both freaks! You’re filth!”
“So quick to judge,” Kurt tsked. He grabbed him with one thick-fingered hand and hauled Kitty to her feet with the other. “Hold on. This won’t be pleasant. At least not for you.”
BAMF!
The guards choked and sputtered on the thick cloud of noxious brimstone. The doctor was gone.
He’d told William he’d wanted fresh air.
This wasn’t how…
“AAAGGGHHHH!”
“Enjoying the view?” Logan called over the howling wind. It sang through his blood. It felt like ‘Ro, but he was restless. He needed to find her, come hell or high water.
He was about to visit some of the former on this guy’s ass.
“Please…you can’t do this!”
“Yer the one danglin’,” Logan shrugged. “Unless ya don’t believe the big guy’s strong enough ta hold onto ya. Guy doesn’t have a lot of faith in ya, Petey.” Piotr sighed and shook his head. He found this method questionable, not enjoying their dizzying vantage point from forty stories up, but remembering how they’d treated Kitty strengthened his resolve.
“You won’t get anything out of me, mutie!”
“Why? Who said we wanted anything outta ya, anyway? Ya got somethin’ ta hide?”
“No. No, I’m not telling you a bloody thing!”
“Bloody’s the key word, bub.” SNIKT… Gleaming, razor-sharp talons extended themselves inch by inch, held too close to his face for Phillip’s comfort.
“Where have you taken the Professor and our friends?” Kurt demanded.
“They’re dead! You’ll be too, soon! It doesn’t matter what you try to do to me!”
“Ya think?”
“You’re an X-Man, you people don’t kill.”
“Guess I missed the memo,” Logan muttered. “Ain’t always been an X-Man, so the rest of ‘em can’t really vouch for me. I’ve been killin’ since you were a twinkle in yer daddy’s eye, pal. Maybe before that.”
“Logan, quit it,” Kurt complained. Philip was unnerved by the fanged, blue-furred demon’s appearance as it was, and the precarious angle at which he perched from the ledge “ dangling upside down to meet his eyes. Blood flow made Philip’s head feel like it was going to explode. The view of the ground, the people and cars resembling ants, made him nauseous. The wind snatched away his screams. If the people below thought it was odd to see what looked like a man dangling from the roof, then they were obviously tourists.
This was New York.
“We know yer workin’ fer Stryker. And we know ya have our professor in this place somewhere, don’t ya?”
“You’ll give him a heart attack before we get any answers out of him,” Erik muttered. “They didn’t teach you anything about subtlety in the program, Wolverine?” Logan turned toward the sound of the voice and moved back from the ledge.
An elderly man with hard silver eyes replaced him in Philip’s line of vision. “Hello, doctor.”
“W-who…?”
“We’re going to be the best of friends. Take a load off your feet.” Without asking Piotr’s permission, Erik manipulated his steely grip, forcing him to release his captive.
“BOSZHE MOI!” His heart jerked in his chest as he saw the man being pulled from his grip.
He hovered in mid-air, tears streaming down his face and screaming prayers.
“Maybe you can tell us more about this rally the Reverend’s hosting today…”
Twenty minutes later, Philip was bundled into a locked room, bound and gagged, grateful to be unconscious.
“Yer a little too good at interrogatin’ fer comfort, bub.”
“I learned from the best, from the wrong end, my friend.” They hurried down the east corridor, following Logan in hot pursuit. “Where are we going?”
“Followin’ my nose.”
“I don’t have time for games; the doctor said Charles is being kept in a lab…”
“I ain’t lookin’ for a lab. I’m lookin’ for Charley, and for two of our team that went missin’ along with him.”
Erik watched him in wonder as he scouted the building, suite after suite. “You sense them?”
“Yup. Smell ‘em.” He jerked to a stop as he caught a vestige of Ororo and Scott’s scents, faint but there. “That way.”
“This is weird. I hate this place, it gives me the creeps.”
“We’ll take care of you, Katschen.”
“Thanks,” she muttered back. Kurt also gave her the creeps, but she didn’t say as much.
Logan’s adrenaline rang in his his ears and quickened his pace as her scent grew stronger. “They went into the elevator!”
“They could be anywhere,” Kitty complained.
The button display was old-fashioned, each one lighting up when the car landed on each floor.
The center car was headed downstairs without stopping. 10. 9. 8. 7…
“We’ve gotta head ‘em off!”
CRRUNNK! Piotr didn’t hesitate, punching through the door and peeling both of them apart like tin foil.
“Yer the man,” Logan told him.
“Should I ‘port into the car?” Kurt suggested.
“That won’t be necessary,” Erik told him.
He gestured, and they watched as the car began to ascend the shaft, squealing as it rode the cable.
Its occupants were confused and stunned, sickened by the change in direction.
“I don’t like this!”
“Aw, man, I’m gonna be sick…”
The gurney slipped from their grasp and banged into the wall. The ride back up was jerky and stiff, faster than the pace they’d traveled down.
The elevator stopped, making slight creaking sounds on the groaning cable.
“Damn…what happened?”
CRUNCH!
“Holy SHIT!” BAMF! SNIKT!
They were hastily yanked from the ruined car. Each of them felt a low thud before blacking out.
“Outta the way…” Logan warned them, shoving his way inside.
There they were. There were their scents, clear and thick, mingled with the stench of chemicals that made his nostrils burn.
He tugged at the shroud, impatient with the zippers holding it shut. With a lone claw, he tore through the heavy, insulated canvas. It felt away from its burden.
“Oh, no, no!” Kitty wailed, covering her mouth with her fists. Tears streaked down her cheeks as Piotr held her back.
“Gott in himmel,” Kurt prayed, clutching his crucifix and swallowing around a lump. They’d come so far…he’s placed so much faith in finding them…fate wouldn’t be so cruel.
Logan rocked back on his heels, knees suddenly weak. “Darlin’? C’mon, darlin’, open up yer pretty eyes and tell me yer all right! ‘Ro? ‘Ro!” He reached for her bare shoulder and shook it. His palm gently cupped her cheeks and scraped back her fall of lank hair. “Don’t just play possum, woman, open yer eyes! Damn it, OPEN YER EYES!” He reached out and shook Scott roughly. “You heard me, Scooter, tell her ta wake up, damn it! I know yer not dead! Ya can’t fuckin’ be dead, do ya hear me?”
His growl of denial was guttural and chilling, graduating to a roar that echoed off the walls of the elevator. He banged his fist against the useless button pad, sending off sparks from the panel.
“She’s gone,” Piotr whispered.
“I don’t believe you,” Kitty sobbed. “You all told me she’d be okay, and that we’d find her. You promised.”
“Katya, I’m sorry!” Piotr soothed. She was inconsolable. He felt helpless, devastated.
Logan collapsed. His legs wouldn’t hold him, and his senses wouldn’t stop lying to him. “I came for ya, darlin’, like I said I would. Came for you…” Her hand fell limply over the edge of the gurney and he clasped it, stroking it with his thumb.
“Logan…” Kurt hated himself for interrupting Logan’s grief, even for having to suspend his own. “Come. We must leave now. We can take them home…”
“Leave me be!”
“Move aside,” Erik ordered grimly, pushing past the others and flanking Logan’s back in the elevator.
Erik closed his eyes and focused on his surroundings, communing with it.
He saw everything in wavelengths of electromagnetic energy, not unlike Ororo’s perception of the earth’s water and air currents. He studied the matrices of energy in the elevator, examining its structure and metals.
“What’s he doing?” Kitty inquired.
“Shhhh.” Kurt motioned for them to be silent. He stiffened when Erik approached the gurney and lifted Scott’s hand.
His free one made a pass over his body, barely stirring the air. He felt his fur stand on end suddenly, as a current seemed to pass through them, rippling around them. Logan was torn from his stupor.
“What the fuck are ya doin’?”
“Things aren’t what they seem…”
“Have some respect for the dea…” Logan raised his hand, ready to extend his claws, but Erik was faster. He flew back against the wall, pinned immobile.
“Patience. I need room to work.”
The air thrummed with the current, pulsing and penetrating their cells.
Logan grunted and roared with the struggle to get free. “Sonofabitch!’
“Quiet!” Erik warned him. His face showed the strain of his own effort, but he forged on.
Someone was guiding him. A benign presence moved through him, channeling directing his power.
He released the energy as a single charge to their hearts, resuscitating them.
Ororo and Scott’s eyes snapped open and they choked and gasped for air. Logan ceased his struggles. At that instant, Erik released him.
Erik wasted no time; he removed his long coat and draped it over them and fumbled with the torn shroud.
“W-where…?” Scott stammered. His teeth chattered, but his skin was regaining color.
“We’ll tell ya on the way outta here,” Logan insisted. “Ya look like hell, Cyke.” The thought occurred to him that Scott’s glasses were missing. His dark eyes were drifting back into focus. A strange glow formed around his irises as his strength began to return.
“Charles…”
“It’s okay, darlin’, we’re gonna find him!”
“They’re hurting him!” Her voice was hoarse and frantic. Ororo’s hands shook as she reached for him. He rubbed her shoulder in an attempt to warm her up, knowing she was distraught at her current state.
“Where are they keeping him?” Erik asked. Her reflexes were still stiff; her eyes jerked toward the sound of his voice.
“Don’t know…tank. Kept us…in a tank…”
“I can still picture it,” Scott said. “Dark. C-cold. Floating in it…”
“That’s all you remember?”
“No. I can still feel it.” His eyes glazed over. “Jean?” he murmured.
“Scott?” Ororo sat up with some assistance, allowing Kitty to help drape her body in the shroud while Scott took the coat.
“Jean,” he insisted, and his face lit up with a beatific smile. “She’s with me.”
“Jean?” Erik looked to Logan for answers.
“She’s our resident spy. Telepath like Charley.”
“I know who she is. I want to know how she’s communicating with him,” he said, nodding to Scott.
“She’s his soul mate. That’s all you need to know.” Ororo was blunt.
“I can barely feel her-“ His words were cut off as his optic beams returned. His eyes glowed like red coals.
“DUCK!”
VRAAAMMFT
The blast took out an enormous chunk of drywall across the corridor, punching through the side of the building. They stared incredulously out at the sky that it revealed.
They struggled their way out of the elevator and hurried out through the roof. From there, Kurt signaled Henry to send them the Blackbird.
Once they were safely aboard the jet, Scott and Ororo were situated comfortably in the reclining seats. Scott’s eyes were restrained carefully until he could retrieve another visor.
“You found me,” Ororo said softly, taking Logan’s hand and squeezing it. She wore Logan’s jacket and was bundled under several blankets stocked in the compartments.
“Ya left me a sign.”
“I died.” Her face pleaded with him to tell her it wasn’t true.
“Don’t think yer gonna get away from me that easily, darlin’.” His eyes held no humor; his voice was filled with gravity and the unspeakable. He gently lifted her hand to his lips, brushing them over her knuckles.
Kurt watched them silently and sent up silent prayers of thanks. Erik had left them and promised to reconnoiter once they regrouped. Kurt was relieved.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that their problems had just begun.
[Reviews - 92]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story |
Has been viewed 1118 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story | - Text Size +
You must login () to review.
