[Reviews - 106]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story |
Printer Chapter or Story |
ePub eBook Chapter or Story |

Has been viewed 2769 times

- Text Size +




Chapter Three: Conundrum

All the miles that separate
They disappear, now when
I’m dreaming of your face
~3 Doors Down

“You’d better be right about this, Chuck.”

He stood a few miles from Magneto’s compound, trapped in a small phone booth, a cigar clenched between his teeth as he spoke to the Professor. Her screams still echoed in his ears, the wind’s howl and raging rainstorm tearing his heart to shreds.

“I am seldom wrong, Logan,” came the cool reply.

“Yeah, like when we first met, right? We almost lost Rogue that time.”

A long, weighted pause. “This is different, Wolverine. We know who and what they are after, we have the advantage.”

“I already agreed to do it, I’m just reminding you of what I had to do to get it done.”

A sigh, a click, as though the older man were adjusting the phone. “I am fully aware.”

Logan winced as a particularly violent gust of wind nearly knocked the phone booth over. Damn, she was pissed off. Not that he could blame her. In all the time they’d known one another, he had never let her call for him go unanswered.

Until now.

As suddenly as it had begun, the winds silenced, leaving a ringing in his ears. The rain ceased at the same moment, making Logan look to the sky.

“Why’d she turn the rain off?”

“Jean had her sedated,” Charles said bluntly. “She attempted to leave the compound.”

“Shit.”

“She is all right, Logan, and stronger than you think. She will get through this.”

But “we” won’t, he thought bitterly.

“You must leave New Haven tonight,” the leader of the X-Men said quickly. “Another mile down the road is a waiting motorcycle, along with your new identity. Travel southwest until you reach a small town called Canon. Your contact will meet you there.”

Logan memorized his instructions, glancing around to make sure no one was nearby as he hung up the phone. Exiting the booth, he jogged down the lonely street, the eerie quiet disturbing him more than he wanted it to. At least he knew she was all right when the elements screamed her fury.

Shaking the thoughts from his already crowded head, he located the hidden motorbike a few minutes later, pushing the protective cover from the old machine. It was a beautifully restored Harley Davidson, one of the few that was actually worth the time and money to rebuild. He’d give Chuck a nod for his taste later.

A small duffel bag was waiting on the seat, filled with fresh clothing and a new wallet. He changed on the side of the road, using a lighter he found in the bag to set his old clothes on fire. The Zippo Storm had given him was back at the compound. He’d been told to take nothing he could not afford to burn.

He’d rather be without it than destroy it.

Once he had everything set, he jumped onto the leather seat of the bike, kick-starting it to life. The roar of the engine broke the deathly silence, making his ears ring all over again.

In all the life he could remember, this was the single hardest thing he had ever been asked to do. Had he not believed in what he was doing, he would have told Chuck to go fuck himself.

But his weakness had long been exposed. Ororo was in danger and if a few months, even a year, could help protect her, he would do it. The aftershock of his decision would probably destroy any relationship they could have salvaged, but it was for her. If she was alive and well, he could attempt living without her.

He paused, bringing up the kickstand and balancing on the bike’s seat. Looking over his shoulder, he could still see the dim lights of Magneto’s compound in the growing dawn. When she woke up, she would be told the same story as the others. Wolverine had gone for good, leaving everything he loved behind. No one would know why or where he had gone…he had simply vanished.

If they forgave him, he would return to their ranks when his work was finished. If not…

There wasn’t time to think about the “what ifs”. Turning his eyes back to the road ahead of him, Logan took a deep breath and rode off into the night.

~@~

“Goldie’s” was the name of the bar he’d been told to enter when he reached the one-stop-light town called “Canon”. Letting his purring engine rest, Logan pulled the bike to a stop outside of it, snorting with amusement as a few of the smoking patrons outside gawked at his beautiful machine.

Ignoring their half-slurred questions, he entered the dingy bar and moved directly for the counter. Slamming his gloved hand onto the nicked mahogany, he ordered a whiskey and plopped onto a cushioned stool.

The drive hadn’t been bad, all things considered. His mind had played tricks on him once or twice, making him think he’d heard ‘Ro’s voice…but it had just been the chilly wind rushing past him.

It was not until he had reached the outer limits of Canon County that the weight of what she had said to him really sank in. She had wanted him back, no matter what had happened between them.

He’d been a fucking moron for just walking away from her.

Remembering those few moments after the mansion fire, when he’d seen her lean silhouette standing in the open hatch, one hand searching for something…his heart had soared. Her screaming that she would not leave him, the step she had taken to abandon her family to come back for him…it had given him hope.

Then, Chuck had to take him aside at the compound, asking for his help in the fight against the Friends of Humanity.

There had been no question that Logan would do anything for Ororo. Going deep undercover was the least he could do after what she’d already been through. While the mansion was repaired and she continued to recover, he would make sure she was safe.

“I hear you’re quite the conundrum.”

Logan didn’t bother to look up. “ Detective.”

The man sat beside him, but there was no point in trying to look at him. There would always be a different contact, though the codenames were to stay the same.

“Your instructions are under the bar stool. Drop your drink after I leave, make a scene, be sure you curse mutants and all that. Grab the envelope and leave. You will be contacted again in forty days.”

With that, “Detective” was gone and Logan took a deep breath. He couldn’t afford to keep on with his regret and doubt. Tossing his half-finished whiskey onto the floor, he tossed the bar stool over. The Wolverine was silenced, a new chapter had begun.





You must login () to review.