He did sleep as she had suggested. Slept through the whole day, then stayed in his bed until he could be sure that Marie had already gone to sleep. She was there with him, in his head, but kept quiet, eyes screwed tightly shut and hands slanted over her ears. Had been that way for the whole day ever since his dreams took an interesting turn and brought the events of the previous night in to his mind.
“Good. Stay that way for a while…” He grunted, sitting up and rubbing his face. He’d need to shave. But not right now. Right now he needed to get his stuff together and his ass as far from Xavier’s as possible, as soon as possible. He’d be damned if he’d start to ‘work’ with Marie over something he could easily correct with decent amount of booze. And if she already could keep it to herself and not to look at his thoughts, what there really was to work for anymore?
He slid on a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt. Shrugged on a flannel shirt as well. He didn’t really have that many belongings, just some clothes and his cigars, and his shaving kit. He threw them to his knapsack that had waited him in the closet. Most faithful companion aside his motorcycle during all these years he already had spent roaming around the country.
Girl was still sleeping; he could hear her soft, even breathing from behind the wall. And the girl in his head was still frozen rigid to the ‘hear-no-evil-see-no-evil’ –act. Everything was exactly as it should be. He congratulated himself for the job well done, sling the knapsack over his shoulder and closed the door to his room behind him, locking it before trudging down the corridor.
At the end of the corridor he felt an alarming ripple going through her. He froze, his hand on the banister of the stairs and waited, holding his breath. When nothing else happened he took the stairs three at time, hurrying downstairs and to the kitchen in record time before Jean that had been watching some documentary in the rec room had the time to stop him.
He sprinted through the back garden to the garage where his motorcycle stood. Tank full, ready to go. He stuffed his knapsack to the left saddlebag. Sat on the saddle. And bolted off when front door of the garage slid open, revealing the driveway and Marie standing on the other side, backpack slung over her shoulder.
“Where are we going?” She asked walking to him and opening the right saddlebag, stuffing her belongings there. He could only stare at her, speechless, mouth gaping open. Last time he had checked she had been sound asleep in her own room.
“I’m not stupid, you know. I knew you what you were planning. I’m coming with you.”
“The hell you are!” He growled, climbing on the saddle. She slid behind him and wrapped her hands around his waist.
“I’m coming with you, and I’m going to tag along as long as it takes to get things sorted out between us.”
“You did pretty good job earlier today. Looked like you already know how to keep away from my thoughts…”
“I don’t know what I did, or how I did it, and on top of it I have the mother of all headaches pounding from trying not to disturb you any more than it’s absolutely necessary. Until I we both learn how to shield our thoughts, I’m staying with you.”
“Keep your mouth shut, do as I say, and stay the fuck out of my way, and we have a deal,” Logan finally grunted reluctantly. It could be at least interesting to travel with somebody. And he actually wasn’t that keen of the prospect of staying drunk and fuzzy 24-7. There were limits of what his body could take the abuse, and he wasn’t expecting his next hangover with fondness. He adjusted her hold from around him, moved her hands from below his beltline above it.
“No helmet?” Marie asked. He turned so he could see her from the corner of his eye.
“What did I just tell you?”
“I just asked a question…”
“No talking unless I say you can talk. No moving unless I say you can move. And that same applies to bitching about my habits. Are you sure you want to come?” He asked. He could feel her moving slightly against his back, but she didn’t answer.
“I said ‘are you sure you want to come’?” He renewed his question.
“Is this one of those times I can talk?” Marie asked.
“Oh, for fuck’s… I’m going to regret doing this…” He muttered, gunning the engine for the good measure before driving out to the silent night.
He obviously wasn’t used to drive around with somebody plastered against his back. He drove too fast for her tastes. It was as if he was trying to punish his motorcycle for something it had done. She had been on the motorcycle once before in her lifetime. It had been the time Logan had snatched her from the side of the road, and then she had been too distracted and scared to really pay attention to the whole concept of speed and keeping balance. She tried to relax and mimic Logan’s moves, lean right when he leaned right, stay up when he stayed up and so on. She tried. But it wasn’t easy. Half of the time she was too scared that she would fall off, and rest of the time she was too tired and rigid from concentrating so hard not to get inside of his mind.
Suddenly Logan slowed down, and stopped to the side of the road. For a moment they just sat there, then he huffed and lowered his head.
“Get in.”
“What?”
“It feels like I have a pile of bricks strapped to my back. If we keep going like this, we’re going to fall. I’m not in the mood of scooping your brain from the pavement. There has got to be something we can use in this fucking bond.” He spat the word ‘bond’ out like it was poison.
“Are you… I’m… I try not to get too loud…” She whispered and relaxed. Stepped forth. Logan wasn’t exactly thrilled of having her there, but he was more cooperative than he had been earlier. She could feel him hovering close her. Hesitant. Nervous.
“Shit. Well, here goes nothing…” She could hear him muttering. His mind wrapped around hers like a blanket, cocooning her, and suddenly she could see, hear and smell, feel everything much clearer than before.
Scent of grass, tar and moisture in the air, traces of exhausts, small crickets chirping, plants and trees achieving almost scary new aspect of clarity in her eyes. She gasped from the surprise and Logan pulled back.
“That bad?” He asked. She shook her head to clear off the confusion.
“Is that how you see and feel? All the time?” She asked. Logan turned on the saddle to look at her.
“What do you mean?”
“Everything was so strong and clear. I could see the fucking beetles down in the grass!”
“I don’t know. I guess. Can you handle it?” He asked. She shook her head again and blinked couple of times. Suddenly she felt like she was in serious need of glasses. And there was nothing wrong with her eyesight. Not in reality.
“Can you handle it?” Logan asked again.
“Yes.”
He enveloped her again. It didn’t feel as bad as he had expected. Having her inside of his head was a distraction, but this way he could at least control some of it. She was more of a passenger than a nosy brat sneaking around. He didn’t know how much she could actually see or feel, but he tried to clamp down his worst instinctual paranoia’s and create her a separate space. It seemed to work. She sat with him snuggly, like the last piece of a puzzle.
“Do as I do. We’ll take things slowly at first,” he promised before turning the engine back on and returning to the road.
Instead of flying through the night like the proverbial bat from the hell he kept his promise and kept the speed even below speed limits for the better part of the next hour, letting her to adjust to his borrowed senses, and to get familiar with his way of handling the motorcycle and balance with it. Her curiosity and nervous giddiness were contagious. Before he even realized it, he was driving through the night at peaceful pace, idiotic grin on his face, eyes scanning for everything new and exiting around him. He shook his head.
“Stop being so fucking positive about this all,” he grunted. She couldn’t hear him through the noise of the engine and the wind, but he trusted that his thoughts conveyed the message to her.
“I can’t help it! Not all of us have super senses all the time! I might as well get the most out of this while I still can!” She shouted. He could feel the warm joy from her seeping through in to him. In a sense she was fucking with his mind. Flooding him with sensations and images that filtered through her mind first. He couldn’t help wondering how she could be so goddamned positive about everything when all she had gotten from life was a crappy mutation, shitty job, and now on top of everything she had gotten strapped for good with him.
“You think too much!”
“Huh?”
“You think entirely too much! Just feel! It’s a wonderful night!”
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