“Sure yer in the shape ta fly this thing, Cyke?”
“Ready and willing. Never better,” he assured Logan from the cockpit.
Logan grunted under his breath and eased himself back in his seat. He took his customary place beside Piotr, letting the bigger man have the window seat.
Ororo’s profile was serene and lined in sunlight as it filtered through the porthole. If Logan had his way, she wouldn’t be suited up, sitting across the aisle from him and backing up Scott as co-leader. She’d be back home in bed with the covers pulled up to her chin where she belonged, recovering from her ordeal.
Did she listen to him? No.
Did she listen to Moira? Hell, no. Henry? Nope.
Even the sight of Jean, still unconscious in the infirmary, didn’t weaken her resolve to go back for Charles. She’d been stoic and pragmatic. Strong. Tight-lipped.
It drove him nuts. Logan wanted to shake her.
*
Her initial reaction was automatic. “Sister…” Her voice was low and weak as she padded on bare feet across the cold steel floor. Her blue eyes raked over her still form. “Jean?”
“Aye, lass, she’s still in there,” Sean informed her. He joined her as Ororo took Jean’s limp hand. “And how are ye holdin’ up yuirself?”
“I’ll live.” Her voice was full of irony. He gave her shoulder a squeeze, then patted it.
“Ye nearly sent Moira an’ me into cardiac arrest.”
“My apologies.”
“No harm done.”
“How long has she been like this?” Scott interjected. He flanked Jean’s other side, clean and freshly dressed in his school-issued track suit. The crimson lenses of his glasses reflected the readings of the monitors charting Jean’s progress.
“From the moment we heard of yuir crash, boyo. She even cried yuir name.” Sean counted a few more gray hairs that day. Jean wasn’t sparing him anymore now.
“It doesn’t make sense. What happened to her? It’s…I can feel her.”
“Not getting much of a response on her EEGs,” Henry pondered. “In this case, the lights aren’t on, but someone is home. I had hoped…”
“What?” Scott pressed when Henry’s voice died off.
“You’re here, safe and sound. I thought that perhaps your presence would reawaken her. The human will to live is stronger than we realize, and it’s fed by close contact with people we care about. You’re her anchor, Scott. In a sense, you are her will to live.” Scott’s lips pressed themselves in a thin line. He held her hand in his tight, warm grip and leaned over her, stroking her hair over and over.
“I’m here, Jeannie. Come back,” he whispered. “Please.”
Jean’s lover and best friend cut their vigil short when Henry and Moira assured them that they would monitor her condition.
“Get yuirself upstairs, lass,” Moira ordered Ororo.
“Not yet.” She headed out of the infirmary for the Danger Room’s women’s locker suite.
“WHAT? Are ye DAFT?”
“We need to find Charles.”
“Correction, darlin’: ‘We,’ meanin’ me, Petey and Elf, need ta find Charley. You and Cyke need some rest.”
“The only thing I need to do is put my boots back on and get on that plane.”
“Aw, no ya don’t.” His jaw was a steel trap. Logan stared her down, fuming. Her hands planted themselves on her hips. The gesture was almost comical; she wore her bathrobe that Moira retrieved from her room and her hair was still tangled and damp.
“”Fine, then.” Ororo’s chin rose a notch. Her eyes glowed an arctic white…
Logan was flung back against the wall by a piercing gust of wind. Ororo neatly side-stepped him on her way into the locker room, ignoring Moira’s curses at her back.
“So help me…I’m turnin’ her over me knee, Sean. You heard it here first.”
“Aye, lass,” he agreed. “C’mon, man, get yuirself up!”
*
Ororo felt Logan’s eyes on her and risked a quick peek.
He was still livid. He cocked his head and gave her a look meant to bend steel. She licked her lips and fought back the guilt twisting her stomach. She couldn’t ponder what he’d been through yet. They had too much left to do…
“I’m so glad Katya’s back at the house,” Piotr murmured.
“No kidding,” Logan grumbled. “At least one woman in the house has a lick of friggin’ common sense.”
Then he, Kurt, Ororo and Piotr stared back in the general direction of the jet’s tail when they heard a low thump. Logan scowled.
“What was that?” Scott asked.
“It better not be what I think it is,” he growled as he unbuckled his seat belt and trekked to the back.
He opened the latch to the cargo hold, following the low sound again as some of their gear shifted with the turbulence buffeting the jet.
Huge brown eyes peered sheepishly at him and widened. “Uh…hi, Wolvie.” He slapped his hand over his eyes and dragged it over his face, trying to wipe away the vision.
“Geez…never friggin’ mind, Pete, I was wrong. We’ve got a stowaway.”
“Wrong about what? Hey, take it easy!” she yelped as he tugged her out of the cargo hold.
“Yer so grounded when we get back, kid. This isn’t a game, ya know that, right? This is a mission now. It’s a simple search and retrieval that could go horribly wrong if we misstep even ONCE. Yer a kid, and we can’t afford ta spend just as much time tryin’ ta protect ya as we are tryin’ not ta let the Professor or any civilians get killed.”
“I can help you,” she argued plaintively. “I’ve even got a uniform.” Logan growled under his breath. She did.
Some way or another, Kitty was wearing a replica of the makeshift uniform that Jean made for her several weeks ago, except it had a dark blue yoke and piping. On the high collar, it was emblazoned with the name “Sprite”. He read it aloud, shaking his head.
“What the hell, is that yer codename now?”
“Works for me,” she shrugged.
“Ya need ta go back to the school.”
“There’s no point if my teacher’s in trouble, is there?” Her stubborn stance mirrored Logan’s. It annoyed him that she easily stood eye-level with him.
He dragged her by the elbow and shoved her ungracefully into the seat next to Ororo. “Buckle up, squirt.” Ororo stared at her and sighed.
“Not your best idea, Kitten.”
“Ororo?”
“Yes?”
“Thank God you’re all right.” She gave Ororo a strangling hug that made her eyes water.
“Brat,” she murmured, but she returned the embrace just as fiercely.
*
“He’s ready. Hook him up.”
“Not so scary now, is he?” Anne remarked as William’s aides assisted Charles into his wheelchair and strapped him into a pair of restraints. EEG leads were placed at his temples with oily adhesive. The large console in the lab thrummed and beeped when it received the reading from his mind.
Cerebro.
His consciousness recognized it as such, yet questioned what it was doing here. Charles’ normally vivid, alert blue eyes were blank and glazed.
“Time to do the Lord’s work, my friend,” William purred. Charles turned toward his voice and smiled peacefully, rapt.
“Yes,” he replied eagerly. “Yes, it is.”
“You recognize this, don’t you? It helps you find mutants, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“They bear the mark of the beast. Sinners, Charles.” Charles was silent; his smile faltered for a moment while the aides made adjustments to the equipment. “They won’t be spared his wrath. Expel them in his name, Charles.”
He left him then, content that the pieces were falling into place.
*
The music filling the auditorium swelled and crescendoed, quickening the laser display onstage and stirring up the parishioners. They roared to their feet in applause as the Reverend made his entrance down the long aisle, shaking hands on his way toward the stage. He waved and smiled winningly like someone running for office.
“He’s telegenic, isn’t he?” the senator remarked, templing his fingers beneath his chin.
“Should we be afraid?” his aide inquired.
“In a word…yes.” The screens overhead magnified his face while his voice boomed through the speakers.
“Welcome, brethren!” He was met by choruses of “We love you, Reverend William!” and “We believe in you! Muties aren’t humans!”
He stood back, looking delighted and amused for another couple of minutes before raising his hands, motioning to the crowd to bring it down a notch.
“Good afternoon. You know who I am and why I’m here today. I hope you know why you are here today. If you’re like me, you’ve known someone affected by mutants and the threat they represent.” The crowd interrupted him again and stomped their feet. “You’ve read your Bibles, right? And you know what it says about humans? More specifically about creation? I’m not talking about that nonsense in the science books, about man descending from the apes. We’re not simians. We’re not animals! We’re children of God!”
He paused and took a drink of water, setting the glass back on the stand. William attached the clip-on mic to his collar and stepped out from the podium, Bible in hand. He strolled across the stage and talked conversationally.
“God created man from dust. Man. Two eyes, two ears, two hands and feet, walking on two legs and breathing air. Walking on his green earth. Have you all ever read anything in Genesis “ shoot, either testament of the Bible “ saying God created man to fly?”
And he used the same template when he made woman. Made him from man, different from him, certainly, but again, women don’t fly. Not the way he created them. Not sons and daughters of God.” He paused to let his words sink in. “Everyone who is called by My name, And whom I have created for My glory, Whom I have formed, even whom I have made." **
He paused again and sighed. “Everyone created for God’s glory. Humans. We’re precious in his sight, did you all know that? We inherited God’s earth! He loves us more than the sky, more than the sea, more than the animals he created. Yet we act like we don’t appreciate that love when we sin or follow or worship those who sin. Or when we admire or trust people who pretend to be godlike,” he scoffed. “You’ve met people like that or known people like that and watched them flaunt and preen. Those are sinners.” He gestured matter-of-factly. “Mutants showing off their fancy powers are sinners. Mutants threatening humans are sinners. Oh, some of ‘em stand out like a sore thumb. You’ve seen them. Might have one eye instead of two. Some of ‘em might fly, or shoot lasers out of their eyes. Or they might be bright blue or glow in the dark. Yet…some of them might look like you and me. Hiding in plain sight. That’s what enemies do. That’s what wolves in sheep’s clothing do. Make themselves seem harmless. Sin wears a pretty face.
And sin leads to death. Mutants spell death for humans. They want to take what God gave rightfully to humans. They wanna TAKE it! Are you all listening to me? Say amen if you hear me, and if you understand what must be done!”
“Amen, Reverend. Halleleujah!”
“Every day, you read about mutants in the news. You read about how they destroyed someone’s property or ‘accidentally’ hurt innocents with their powers because ‘oh, I can’t control it, I don’t know what happened to me.’ I say that’s garbage. And again, why would you trust someone who isn’t accountable, who admits to being out of control? You read about people killed by mutants. Even the so-called ‘good ones’ who supposedly stop a bank robbery or rescue someone from a burning building. They’re trying to seduce you and me, can’t you see that?” The Reverend grew more and more worked up. The crowd cheered him as he continued, nodding and pumping their fists. “Then, you have people like that Professor Xavier fellow you just saw on TV…”
In the wings, Kurt blended with the shadows, grateful that no one could see the grim, stricken look on his face.
“I can’t believe they’re listening to that jerk,” Kitty hissed.
“Hush, Kitten,” Ororo admonished.
“…he’d have us believe that all mutants need to do to live among us is control their powers? What about controlling their impulses? What about not trying to suppress and overcome their fellow man, if we’re indeed to call them men? I say no. God punishes the wicked. Just because you’ve seen them flying in the sky or doing goodness knows what else, that doesn’t mean he’s blessed them. They’re Devil’s spawn, and they’ll be punished. God’s watching. God’s waiting. And you and I will be witnesses to God’s glory.” He refreshed himself with some water again and dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief. “If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you can move a mountain. I know you all have more faith than that. We can witness his glory if we just try to see it. If we listen to him. If we watch the signs around us, and among us.” More ‘amens” filled the auditorium, shaking the rafters.
“One of these days, they’ll fall from the sky. One of these days, they’ll tumble to the ground. They’ll bleed. They’ll fail to draw breath, no matter how they breathe. They’ll be as dust in the wind.”
The Reverend pressed a small button beneath the podium.
Within the holding chamber, William’s aide watched the readings on the EEG tape. The Professor was responding well to the hypnotic suggestion prompts from the recordings the Reverend left behind. He still wore the same rapt expression, bliss occasionally crossing his features. He twitched slightly in anticipation.
“And may that day be today!”
He depressed the button again. The dim blue light on the makeshift Cerebro unit began to glow.
“You know what to do. It’s show time, old man,” he informed the Reverend’s new weapon.
“Find the mutants.”
*
“Let’s bear witness to God’s glory!” William was in his element.
It was short-lived.
Overhead, the ceiling of the auditorium warped and twisted. The groan of metal being pulled apart drowned out the soft music playing in the background and silenced the crowd.
The skylight opened up, flying apart one pane at a time. The bars curled back like banana peels. The parishioners watched incredulously as a man in a deep magenta coat and silver hair floated down through the opening. His expression was full of contempt.
“Surely you jest. Tell them again who’s flaunting their power, human. Go on. We’re all listening. I’m listening, and so are my new friends.”
“Way to blow our cover,” Logan muttered.
“Any ideas?” Ororo inquired, tugging on Scott’s arm. His ruby quartz visor glowed in the lights of the auditorium, reflecting the glare.
“We’re following his lead. We’re going to make good use of the distraction.”
“We who?” Kitty replied.
“Not you. Stay out of sight with Kurt. Ororo and I are going to find Charles.”
“Are ya forgettin’ that I’m the one with the senses that found you and ‘Ro? I’m going with ya!”
“We could use some muscle to back up Magneto.”
“That’s why ya’ve got Petey.” Piotr was already armoring up as he spoke as if he, too, agreed. Scott frowned, then unclenched his fists at his sides.
“Then let’s hustle.”
Logan took the lead, automatically guiding them to the lower levels of the building via the stairs. Scott was impressed that he took the path of least resistance.
They arrived at the basement, a catacomb of hallways and corners that all looked alike.
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Logan murmured slyly. “I’ve got him.” Ororo was flooded with relief.
“How is he?”
“Alive. Ain’t got any more than that yet, darlin’.” They crept around each turn, hugging the walls. Ororo’s heart hammered. She was still slightly weak, but she couldn’t afford to have Scott or Logan covering her when Charles’ life was at stake.
Logan held back his tongue, his own thoughts mimicking hers. Why the heck didn’t she just stay home? Once. He’d already lost her - lost ‘Ro - once. That was more than enough for a lifetime…
He shook off the feeling of icy, haunted dread, noting that Charles’ scent grew stronger as they opened an enormous steel door.
They stared up the length of at least five energy rifles trained on them as it squealed on its hinges.
“Fuckin’ security cams,” Logan cursed. Quick as a flash, Logan dove at Ororo, knocking her to the ground and covering her with his body. “GIDDOWN!” She cried out in surprise. “Nail ‘em, Cyke!”
“Fine,” he agreed. His visor lens retracted and unleashed his optic blast, cutting a huge red arc across the room. One after the other, he took out the FOH security guards with just enough force to knock them unconscious. His blast also blew the weapons apart. Logan helped Ororo to her feet.
“Next time warn me when you’re going to do that.”
“Ain’t gonna be a next time. They ain’t gonna get the drop on us ag-“
Logan’s words were cut off by a sudden, searing pain in his skull.
His thoughts, even his consciousness were being ripped apart, and he wasn’t the only one. Ororo and Scott each emitted ragged screams blending with his roar of pain. His claws extended instinctively as every muscle in his body seized.
His mind raced in an attempt to remember the last time he’d felt turned inside out like that…
Telepath.
Emma Frost. The mind-witch who’d toyed with him had attacked him in the same way, but this was less ruthless. More focused, and much more intense.
Charles’ scent was nearby.
Outside in the street, mayhem erupted.
A woman carrying a bag of groceries collapsed on the pavement and began writhing and jerking. A construction worker fell two stories from a scaffold, foaming at the mouth.
“What in the name of…?” A nearby beat cop leaned out the window of his patrol car, staring at the crowd gathering around the victims. Something felt wrong…
For every twenty-five people in the street, one would fall. Panic rippled through them and cell phones came out of pockets and purses, dialing 911.
It was the rapture…
*
Erik spasmed mid-air, fighting the mental pulse assailing him. Charles. He recognized his psychic imprint. He even felt his thoughts, muffled but true…
I’m sorry. Heaven help me, old friend, I would never hurt you if I could help it. Know this.
His helmet shielded him; he’d donned it just in time. Cerebro. It had to be, somehow…
“Witness God’s justice!” the Reverend cried out. “Even the proudest among them shall fall!”
Up above in the wings, Kitty and Kurt were in agony.
“Stay!” Peter called out.
“Piotr!” He rushed down into the auditorium. “Kurt, we can’t just let him go down there!” To Kurt’s horror, a trickle of blood leaked from her nose.
“Katzchen, you’re bleeding!” She dabbed at it in shock, looking slightly pale.
“I don’t feel so good.”
“Out we go!” He gathered her up in his arms and ‘ported them outside to the roof.
Kitty was thrown off-balance, first by the nausea of teleporting, then by the subsiding of the pain of the psychic attack.
“Whoo…aw, man, that sucked.”
“It’s less intense,” he mused. “No one inside seemed to be affected except for us, and for Magneto.”
“Why?”
“Stryker. He must have something to do with this.”
“Kurt, look!” Down below, the crowd was rioting in the streets, some struggling to get away from the affected victims. They piled into their cars and ignored traffic signals, running directly into the street.
“We need to do some damage control.”
“How?”
“Calm the crowd, or at the very least, help the people who have been hurt.” He noticed many of them were bleeding like Kitty, and he was alarmed to feel thick, warm blood pooling in his ears. Kitty saw it, too, and was horrified.
“It’s happening to you, too!”
“I’ll be all right.” BAMF! They rematerialized on the ground. I hope we’ll be all right…
Ambulances amassed five blocks down, blocked by the traffic no matter how loudly their sirens blared. Kurt acted immediately, ‘porting to the first fallen woman’s side. He scooped her up in his arms, not caring about the people’s shocked reactions to his appearance.
“Shit! It’s a freak! He’s a mutie! He’s trying to take that woman! Stop him!”
“Nein!” he cried out, holding out one three-fingered palm.
“Leave him alone!” Kitty shouted as she phased through the crowd toward him. She stood in front of him protectively. “He’s not taking her, he’s helping her, and if you geniuses would quit making a fuss and get out of his way, maybe he could finish the job! MOVE!” She grabbed onto him and concentrated, even though she was still weak from the psychic blast. The angry crowd closed in…
…and grabbed nothing but empty space,
“Jerks!” Kitty told them as they ‘ported away.
Kurt brought them right inside the first ambulance, scaring the paramedics out of ten years of life.
“Take her, help her, do what you can. We’ll bring back more!’ BAMF!
“Good Lord,” remarked the driver. He was dumbstruck until he noticed that the woman was bleeding. His partners began hooking up monitors and an IV. They knew they’d have a big responsibility and a full ER on their hands.
Inside the auditorium, pandemonium had broken loose.
“Get ‘im! You never should’ve come here, mutie, the Reverend was right about you!” Erik used his magnetic field to drive them back. The people began to swarm toward him, crushing the people up front. Policemen who’d rushed inside from the street stared in shock and attempted crowd control with little success. The sight of the enormous metallic giant attempting to help them confused them momentarily. They brandished side arms instead toward the second mutant who’d appeared to start the problem.
“NYET! Don’t shoot! You could get hurt!” Piotr warned them. “Stand down!’
“Is he kidding?”
“Wait…isn’t that Magneto?”
“He controls metal!”
“Then the tin man’s right, don’t shoot!” The Reverend watched the scene unfolding before him incredulously. His scowl was dark.
“Are you going to let them attack this gathering and ruin the rally? Take them down!” he roared into the mic.
*
Logan had to take him out. He extended his claws, despite the agony it caused. His healing factor was compromised and rivulets of blood ran between his fingers. He struggled forward toward the machine.
“Eerrrgh… His voice was guttural. Ororo reeled, attempting to regain her balance, but Charles’ mind blast was disorienting her, burning through her nervous system.
“Logan!”
“What, One-Eye?”
“Get ready to take one for the team. Ororo, fastball!”
“What are you talking about?” The Professor’s expression was still blank as he stared straight ahead, not seeming to see them.
“Carry him to Charles. Logan, get ready to fly. Try to disengage him from the machine.”
“I can barely see straight! Old man’s already done a number on me.”
“Do your best. Ororo will help you.”
“Ro’s in no shape to-“
“The man said get ready to fly, Wolverine,” Ororo snapped. Her eyes glowed and shifted to white, intense as ever. Before he could argue, he felt her winds gathering, then howling through the chamber.
She picked him up with a thought, a gesture, despite the strain it caused, and Ororo deftly flung him toward the intimidating chair and containment unit.
He had to make his strike count. Take out the machine, or take out the man connected to it…Logan didn’t want that choice. If Charley got the drop on him, his own death Logan could cope with, But what if he couldn’t take down the Professor? What then?
They were all going down screaming if he failed.
Charles reacted strongly to Logan’s emotions, latching onto his empathic imprint and focusing his attack solely on him.
It came to him in that instant that he wasn’t the “last resort” Cyke had to deal with the problem. He was the decoy.
Scott had one shot. While the Professor was distracted with the intruder threatening to stop him from his chore, Scott aimed his optic blast toward a large mirror suspended from the corner joint of the walls. The crimson beam of energy ricocheted off the cooling pipes overhead and darted back toward the floor.
The beam struck Charles squarely in the back of his skull, rendering him unconscious.
The piercing sounds and sensations running through their bodies and psyches calmed, dimmed, and died. Ororo’s winds dispersed, leaving papers still fluttering back to the floor. She attempted to right herself but she felt too limp. She brushed weakly at the blood dampening her upper lip and stared around the chamber, taking inventory.
“Scott?” she rasped. She saw him stagger toward the dais where Charles was stillr restrained. “What happened? Is he all right?”
“We’ll know in a minute,” he told her. His voice was gruff and full of worry. “Man, he doesn’t look good. What’d they do to him?”
“The same thing they did to us. But no doubt much worse.” She turned her attention away from them for a moment at the sound of a low groan.
Logan.
Scott’s gambit had paid off, but at what cost? Icy fingers choked Ororo when she saw him lying prone on the cold, hard concrete.
The blast. They’d all suffered its intensity, but Logan had been the sole target. Ororo shook her head and tried to think beyond the unthinkable. She crept toward him even though the effort made her nauseous. The closer she drew, she saw more frightening details of his appearance. Blood ran from his ears, nose and mouth, staining the floor. He lay there limp and inert. She couldn’t see him breathing…
“Logan! I’m here. Please, wake up! You did a good job, Scott stopped Charles. Please, Logan, wake up!” She struggled to probe his throat, trying to find his pulse. “Scott! Help me!”
“I’m with Charles!” he cried, looking stricken. “He’s okay, but barely.” He’d already unlocked the restraints and detached the leads from his scalp. Charles was still disoriented, vision barely focused on his surroundings.
“LOGAN! I told you to wake up! Stop being so damned stubborn, do you hear me? Logan?” He was solid and heavy as she turned him onto his back. His mouth was open slightly and slack. The blood leaking from his lips was due to cuts inside his cheeks from where he’d bitten through while clenching them. Pity washed over Ororo for what had happened to him; dread made her work fast. Hurriedly she wiped the blood from beneath his nose with the edge of her cloak.
She tugged open the collar snap of his stiff leather uniform and jerked down the zipper so she could get a good look at his throat and chest, and feel his heartbeat. She began chest compressions, which were difficult due to the density of his muscle and enhanced skeleton. It was like pushing against a boulder. Her own heart began to pound and she broke out into a cold sweat.
“Breathe, damn you!” she hissed. “Bastard! Don’t you leave me, Logan, please!” She tilted his jaw and covered his mouth with hers, tightening the seal of her lips. She breathed into it, building a pace that she hoped would revive him. Ororo watched his chest. Nothing. She alternated the chest compressions and mouth-to-mouth while Scott approached, carrying the Professor.
“Let me try,” he offered humbly.
“Take care of Charles,” she barked. “Logan, please!” She resumed the chest compressions, dead set on feeling his heart beat, but he wasn’t cooperating. “Breathe, Logan! Heal, damn it, that’s what you do!”
“Give him the breaths,” Scott ordered, firmly moving her aside. “I’ll do the compressions on your lead.” His logic made sense. Ororo obeyed, leaning down and giving him another fortifying breath. Then another. Then another…
She felt the shift in him and his response moments later, even as Scott told her, “Look, it’s helping him, he’s coming around!” Logan’s chest flexed beneath his hands. Ororo’s lips tried to form a smile. She bit the end of the finger of her glove and yanked it off; Ororo laid her palm on his chest, searching for his heartbeat. When she found its weak pulse, she choked a cry of relief.
It was premature; Logan still wasn’t making a sound or coming out of it. “Logan?” she asked. ‘Come back to us. Logan?” She leaned back down and gave him another breath. Then another.
Then…
Logan’s voice drifted past her lips, sighing into her mouth. He leaned up toward the source of the air and took a greedy taste. The lips above him exclaimed a low “mmmmph?” of surprise, then sighed back. Before she knew what she was doing, her mouth slowly dipped and slanted over his while his long, thick fingers crept into her hair, molding to her skull. Beside her, Scott sat back on his haunches, looking dumbstruck.
“Ororo?”
“Mmmmm…”
“I think he can breathe now.”
“Mmmph…OH!” She tore herself away and sat up so quickly her long hair went flying back. Her hands flew up to cover her mouth and her blue eyes were round. “Scott! Logan! Goddess!” Logan stared woozily up at her as a slow grin spread across his face.
“Hey, darlin’. Miss me?”
“You’re all right!”
“Had a little…*cough* wear an’ tear, but I’ll live. Shit…I’ll always live…what the hell did Charley do ta me?”
“We stopped him. He’s okay, but we need to get him back to the mansion.” Logan eased himself up, propping himself back on his elbows and rubbing his head.
“Damn, he put me through a wringer. Someone’s havin’ a jackhammer convention in my head right now.”
“Take it easy for a moment, Logan,” Ororo told him, trying to lay him back down.
“You take it easy,” he countered. “That don’t mean I don’t want ya ta stop tryin’ to get me flat on my back, darlin’. Feel free any other time, but we’ve gotta go.”
“You’re so not right in the head,” Scott tsked, disgusted. A tiny smile played around Ororo’s lips, and she shook her head.
They were gone from the chamber before any more guards could investigate the earlier sounds of gunfire. They looked on in surprise and dismay that the machine was destroyed.
*
Kitty and Kurt did all they could, getting the people to safety. The authorities looked on disbelief as the two mutants worked alongside them before rushing back into the auditorium.
“Follow ‘em.”
“Why? They didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I know that, doofus. We’re gonna see if they need back-up.”
Onstage, a standoff was going down that only spelled disaster, no matter what the outcome.
“WILLIAM!” Anne’s voice was shrill and filled with terror. She rushed toward the podium, shocking him.
Her face was pale and stricken. Blood drizzled into her hair from her ears and dripped from her nose onto the jacket of her uniform.
“Anne…what happened to you?” he whispered. “It can’t be…” His expression gave her pause. He moved back from her instinctively, and she saw a death sentence in his steely eyes.
“Reverend, what’s happening? I felt something attacking me a little while ago…I can hardly think. It hurts so much.”
“You shouldn’t have been able to feel anything, Anne.”
“What?”
“The machine was a success. Xavier interfaced with it no difficulties.”
“I know, I know! I had faith that it would work.” She beamed regardless of the pain, but felt apprehensive when he still moved away from her.
“Do you really, Anne? You have faith?”
“I’ve followed you,” she whispered.
“Anne…you’re one of them. A mutant.”
“That’s…impossible. It’s ridiculous! William, what are you saying?”
“The machine is calibrated to detect mutant brain waves. Look.” He pointed out toward Erik, Piotr, Kurt and Kitty, who were still surrounded by the congregation and security guards. “See how they bleed. I didn’t see it before. God’s seen fit to humble me for my oversight and not paying attention to the sinners in my midst.”
“Reverend!”
“You’re a sinner. Devil’s spawn.”
“That’s a LIE!”
“Get thee behind me,” he roared as she continued to approach.
“You can’t leave me like this, not after I’ve served you!” Her eyes flooded with tears. “WHY?” She tried to follow him, pulling on his arms to keep him with her. He fought her, struggling and finally pushing her to the ground. He twisted her fingers until the joints cracked. She doubled over, nauseated by the pain, and fell to her knees.
“May God grant you mercy, child. I can’t.” He wrapped his arm around her head, clamping it snugly and giving his shoulder and elbow a twist. There was a sickening crunch before she fell to the stage, staring lifelessly up at him.
“HE KILLED THAT GIRL!”
“She died for her sins, as God willed it! She was a Jezebel! A Delilah!”
“She was a woman, a woman who followed you as part of your flock, Stryker!” Erik boomed. Renewed energy flooded him. Charles’ assault had ended and he recovered himself. He was still shaken, but he felt his strength returning. “And we mutants protect our own!’
William’s security guards went down one after the other, disarmed of their guns and pinned to nearby walls, even the high, domed ceiling by the metals in their uniforms. He left the policemen alone.
“Sinners attract more sinners,” William spat.
“You’ve attracted the masses with seductive, tempting words and promises of a world without mutants. Like Canaan, the promised land. But the world was promised to mutants already, your betters. You won’t take away our birthright.”
“Erik, what are you saying?” Kitty yelled. She rushed forward and stood between him and William. Her posture was defensive and her voice beseeched him. “Can’t you see what he’s trying to do? You sound just like he wants us to sound! Like we want to conquer humanity instead of just being free to live our lives among everyone else!”
“The shoe’s on the other foot now, Kate.”
“No, it’s not! This isn’t the kind of life I want to live! I’m a normal girl with normal parents and great friends at a great school. So what if I can walk through things? I’ve never hurt anybody in my life. I’m a human being! How can’t you see that?”
“You can’t say the same for that abomination with you,” William accused, pointing to Kurt. The young teleporter was somber, warily flicking his tail as he listened to their words. The people around him drew back in fear and revulsion. “He’s a demon walking among us!”
“Liar!”
“You don’t know your place, brat!”
“I know my place just fine. Kurt’s a good person, no matter what he looks like. He’s been nothing but nice to me, even though people treat him like crap just because he looks the way he does. You stand up there giving a fancy sermon about what God wants. It wasn’t written anywhere in any Bible that I’ve read before that you can kill someone based on what they look like or what they believe or the things that they can do. You call yourself a Reverend, but you’re blind to the truth. Mutants are humans. Don’t judge all of us by the actions of a few!” Behind her, Erik fell silent, humbled.
Logan, Scott and Ororo drifted toward the stage, surrounding her protectively. Scott still carried Charles in his arms.
“Rather bright, isn’t she?” he murmured. Scott mistook his quiet tone for calm rather than exhaustion.
“Perhaps you’d like to let your flock know that this isn’t the first time you’ve killed, or that you’ve punished someone for not supporting your cause.” Erik turned to the people, holding up his hands. “This man murders children who have mutant abilities. Two were reported killed in Connecticut yesterday. I witnessed their bodies myself. Barely old enough for grade school. Imagine now, those of you who would follow him, how you would feel if he attacked your children. And think of how he could turn on you if he deems you his enemy or unrighteous! This man doesn’t plan to lead you to glory! He means to carry out another Holocaust!’
“He almost succeeded,” Scott told the crowd at large. The Senator was listening safely in the wings, flanked by bodyguards and his aides. “The Reverend kidnapped our professor and tortured him because he was a mutant. Then he attempted to use his telepathic abilities to murder mutants in a psychic assault. Not stop us from using our powers or control the threat. Murder.” He nodded to a nearby woman holding her two children protectively against her. “He could decide he’s a mutant next,” he said, pointing to her son. “Or you,” he added to an obese man standing in the aisle. “Or him,” he said, pointing to a man with a hearing aid.
“I’m carrying out the Lord’s will!”
“You’re serving your own will,” Kurt argued.
“The God we believe in doesn’t believe in what you’re doing now, mister,” Kitty chimed in. William’s face grew florid in anger. He sprinted to the edge of the stage and retrieved a stray handgun one of the security guards had dropped.
“Then join the Devil, and quickly. Get ready to take your friends with you, child.” He aimed the gun for her heart. Kitty stood rooted to the spot, terrified.
She couldn’t phase. She was too scared to concentrate.
His finger cocked the trigger. A shot rang out.
William stood back, staring down in wonder at the tiny hole in his suit pocket; a red stain slowly grew, saturating the white silk of his dress shirt.
“What…?” he murmured. He pawed at the wound, drawing away sticky red fingertips before he collapsed.
All eyes were on the police officer standing in the aisle. The crowd erupted around him in defiance.
“He shot Reverend Stryker!”
“He’s a mutie lover!”
“Kurt?” Kitty pleaded, “are you all right?”
“Ja, liebchen. All in one piece.”
“Good.” With that, she flung herself at him, limp with relief. His hands rose to rub her back soothingly.
“Does this mean you’re not scared of me anymore?”
“Of course not, silly,” she sobbed, hugging him more tightly.
“All right, folks, that’s enough, show’s over!” The NYPD sent in a SWAT team to control the mob. The more rabid members of the congregation were being taken away, shouting the entire way out of the auditorium.
“Are you just going to stand there and let those muties get away with it? They attacked the Reverend!”
“No,” the Senator interjected as he descended the stairs and entered the room. “They never touched a hair on his head. Not even him,” he said, pointing to Magneto. “And he was about to kill a teenaged girl, pointe-blank. And this guy calls himself a minister. If he lives, as soon as he’s out of the hospital, I’ve got dozens of witnesses who will prove he’s both a fanatic and a murderer.” He nodded to the bedraggled mutants in their midst. “Go on.”
“All we wanted was to find our teacher,” Scott explained. “We never wanted anyone to get hurt.”
“Today you’re not taking the blame. But be smart, and make yourselves scarce, unless you want to be a scapegoat to this crowd.”
*
Matt sat back, astonished. Mr. Howlett grinned at him and gulped down the cup of room temperature apple juice.
“Dude…wow.”
“Not bad, eh?”
“That Kitty sounds frickin’ awesome! She had some brass to face down Stryker!”
“Always wanted the kid in my corner, even when she was being a smart mouth and sassing me back. We were all impressed when she decided to stay with us in spite of almost getting killed. Thank goodness her folks didn’t recognize her on the news in her uniform.” Logan snorted. “Kid had a thing for uniforms. We should’ve just had her join the Girl Scouts.”
“So what happened with your girlfriend? She tried to save you?”
“Yup.” Mr. Howlett looked smug. “Did a pretty good job of it. Wasn’t the last time, either.”
“Were you really out cold?”
“I came around a little after the first round of mouth-to-mouth. But I was enjoyin’ myself so much that I didn’t make a peep.”
“That’s messed up.”
“I didn’t die on her, and I got a kiss out of her. It was worth it.”
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