The sun hadn’t come up yet, but the sky was getting brighter. It was unbearably cold, and hiding under a plastic tarp didn’t keep me warm one bit. Wolverine drove for a while, of course unknowing that I was hiding in the flatbed trailer he was pulling behind his camper. All of a sudden he started to slow down and then stop completely. I held my breath when I heard footsteps approaching, and prayed that he would either change his mind and turn around, or not find me.
There was no such luck.
He poked me and I couldn’t help but shiver. He threw the tarp back and a wave of cold air washed over me. I squinted up at him in the suddenly bright light. Wolverine took a drag on his cigar.
“What the hell are you doin’?” he growled at me.
“I’m sorry. I needed a ride; thought you might help me.”
“Get out,” he ordered, picking up my bag and tossing onto the ice and snow covered road.
“Where am I supposed to go?” I asked as I swung my legs over the edge of the trailer and hopped down.
“I dunno.”
“You don’t know or you don’t care?” I asked, annoyed.
“Pick one!” He shot an angry glance at me, made his way back to his vehicle, and opened the door and got in.
“I saved your life!” I yelled in a desperate last attempt to change his mind.
“No you didn’t,” he said nonchalantly as he closed the door and drove away.
My heart sank, but only for a minute. He stopped a couple hundred feet down the road and opened the passenger door. I grabbed my bag and ran for it before he could change his mind again.
“You don’t have anything to eat do?” I asked after we drove for a minute.
He said nothing, just reached across me, opened the glove compartment in front of me and dropped a package of what looked like beef jerky on my lap. I took my gloves off, ripped it open and started showing pieces into my mouth as fast as I could, but slowed down when I realized how bad my manners were. I removed my hood.
“I’m Rogue,” I said.
He didn’t say anything. I noticed the dog tags hanging around his neck.
“Were you in the army?” I asked, hoping I could coax a conversation out of him. He only glanced at me. “Doesn’t... doesn’t that mean you were in the army?” I motioned toward his dog tags. He didn’t respond, just slipped the pieces of metal under his shirt and focused on the road. I was curious, so I looked at my surroundings. Nothing much, except a ‘housey’ part in the back.
“Wow,” I couldn’t help saying it.
“What?”
I hesitated, then said, “Suddenly my life doesn’t look that bad.”
“Well, if you prefer the road……” he started.
“No! No,” I reassured him. “It looks great…. looks cozy,” I said embarrassed. I started to rub my hands together; it was so cold in there!
He noticed, then flipped a switch on the dashboard.
“Put your hands on the heater,” he said, moving a hand toward mine.
I shrunk away into my seat, trying to get farther away from him.
“I’m not gonna hurt you, kid.”
“It’s nothin’ personal,” I explained. “It’s just… when people touch my skin, somethin’ happens.” This wasn’t completely true; the bracelets that hung from my wrists disabled my power, but I was still afraid.
“What?”
“I dunno, they just get hurt,” I replied as I put my gloves back on. What happened wasn’t very easy to describe, and I didn’t really want to try.
“Fair enough,” he mumbled with a cigar in his mouth. He removed it.
“When they come out,” I said, referring to his claws, “does it hurt?”
“Every time.”
I felt kind of bad for him. We drove in silence for about an hour or so, the snow had really started to pick up.
“So what kind of a name is Rogue?” he asked me, finally breaking the silence.
“I dunno. What kind of a name is Wolverine?” I sassed and smirked at him.
He sighed. “My name’s Logan.”
“Marie,” I replied.
I looked out the windshield and saw nothing but white. I was suddenly very uncomfortable, and worried for Logan’s well being, as well as my own.
“You know you should wear your seat belt,” I suggested.
“Look, kid,” he said sternly. “I don’t need advice on how to…”
Next thing I knew we hit a tree that came out of nowhere. Logan flew through the windshield and lay face down in a snow drift, some distance away from me. I tried to undo my seatbelt, which was wrapped tightly around my slightly round belly. I couldn’t get it loose and I panicked. I only had two thoughts running through my head: getting the hell out to save my child and if Logan were ok. I tried frantically to get out, but it was no use, I was stuck. When I thought things couldn’t get any worse, they did. I smelled smoke, and flames slowly started to rise behind me. I coughed and spat. I was on the verge of tears; this wasn’t how I wanted my life to end.
A miracle happened.
“Are you alright?”
I stared ahead. It was Logan, somehow unhurt. He was waling toward me. I gaped at him in awe.
“Kid, are you alright!?” he asked again.
I snapped out of it. “I’m stuck!” I yelled back.
He came to me and threw open the door. He unleashed his claws. I grimaced at the thought of what he was going to do. I closed my eyes and looked away as he carefully slipped a claw under the seatbelt and tore it. I grabbed my bag just as he was pulling me out.
“Run!” he shouted at me.
I did for a couple of yards, not far behind him, slipped and fell on my ass. He came back for me and picked me up, only to push me down and crouched on top of me a second later.
“Logan, what the…”
I heard a massive explosion that shook through me. I could see flaming bits of metal fall around us. Logan growled. I closed my eyes for what seemed like hours. I opened them and Logan pulled me up. My hand automatically went to my stomach.
“You okay?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Okay stay here,” he said and walked off toward the burning truck.
“Logan!”
He turned around. “I’ll be fine,” he said and disappeared behind the truck. A few moments later, he came speeding out on his motorcycle, unharmed, and skidded to a stop in front of me. I stared at him.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Get on!” he yelled over the roar of the motor.
I hesitated, then swung my leg over the back and sat down. I wrapped my arms around his waist and held on for dear life. He revved the engine and we sped off. I ducked behind Logan’s back to keep off the stinging sleet that had begun to fall.
“Logan,” I yelled over the engine and the howling wind.
“What?” he yelled back.
“Where are we goin’?”
“I don’t know yet.”
A few moments later, we came up to a snow covered sign that said: Selkirk, Manitobia 1575 km, with an arrow pointing to the right. Logan turned the motorcycle right onto a different road.
We pulled into Selkirk long after the sun went down. The trip to the small dreary town consisted of two stops for gas and food and five stops in the middle of nowhere so I could go behind some trees to go to the bathroom. By the time we pulled into the parking lot of the Selkirk Inn, I could not feel any part of my body because I was so numb. We walked quickly across the dimly lit lot to the motel’s lobby. The inside wasn’t much brighter, just a glow from a small TV. The man at the counter was a middle-aged man wearing a red plaid flannel shirt and looked vaguely like a lumberjack.
“What can I do for ya folks?” he asked, looking up from the screen.
“We need a room,” Logan replied.
“Two?” he asked when he noticed me behind Logan.
“Uh, yeah.”
“That’ll be twenty-fifty,” he said and plopped a key down on the counter and returned to what he was watching. Logan took the key, replaced it with the money and turned to me.
“Let’s go,” was all he said.
When we walked outside an ice cold blast of air hit me in the face and made me shiver all over. We came to a door that said 2B; Logan unlocked it and stepped inside, flipping on a light switch. I followed him inside. Through the dim light I could make out two double beds with a small table between them. A lamp, phone and an alarm clock sat on the table. There was also a mall television that sat opposite the beds, a small closet and a bathroom. I dropped my bag and headed for the bathroom as soon as I saw it. Logan was standing there with his arms crossed when I came out.
“Somethin’ wrong?” I asked
Logan shook his head, then went into the bathroom and closed the door. I sat down on one of the beds. I hate motels, but it was awfully nice of Logan to get us one for the night. I didn’t realized how exhausted I was until I lay back on the bed. I wasn’t so comfortable sleeping in the same room as a stranger, but he did say he wasn’t going to hurt me, didn’t he?
I picked up the TV remote that I had found on the table and switched on the set. There was nothing on any of the ten channels. I flipped through them numerous times before giving up. Logan had the shower on in the bathroom. I decided to try and get some sleep, so I shedded my green coat and slipped under the musty-smelling sheets. I left the light on so Logan could see. I tossed and turned for a while, but I realized, that as tired as I felt, I couldn’t relax enough to sleep. The bathroom door opened and I heard Logan stepped out. I snapped my eyes shut, pretended to be a sleep
“You’re still awake,” Logan said after a few minutes. It wasn’t a question.
I turned over to face him and propped my self up on my elbow. He was sitting on the bed next to me. “How could you tell?”
He shrugged. “Just a guess.”
“Oh.”
“You might want to get some sleep,” he said as he slipped under the covers. “I don’t know what time I’ll be leaving tomorrow.”
“Where are we goin?”
“I don’t know about you, but to me it doesn’t look like there’s anything in this town that’s worth staying around for,” he said and turned out the light.
“Oh,” I said again, suddenly feeling unwanted.
“You can come along if you want,” he offered after a moment of silence.
“Okay,” I said, relieved. “Goodnight.”
“‘Night, kid.
‘This will only hurt for a little while….’
‘These bracelets, they suppress your mutation, so you can have your life back.’
‘Set up a perimeter, don’t let her escape!’
I woke up drenched in sweat, rivers of tears flowing down my cheeks. I cried silently to myself, trembling uncontrollably. I’ve had that dream many times before, and something about it is so realistic, so familiar that it scares me half to death and I’m afraid to go back to sleep afterwards.
It took me a while to realize that Logan was tossing and turning and moaning in his sleep on the bed next to me. I stood up unsteadily. My legs felt weak and I almost fell on top of Logan
“Logan,” I called, placing a gloved hand on his bare… wait a minute, when did he change? His skin shimmered with sweat as well. “Logan, wake up,” I whispered again, shaking his shoulder. He was still mumbling rather loudly, so I shook him a little harder.
“Logan!”
He woke with a start that made me jump. Then I was on my back. Logan had an arm laid across my chest, pinning me down on the bed. I stared up at three metal claws aimed at my throat, and a look on his face that could kill in itself. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t think or even breathe. I could feel his chest heave as he breathed heavily. Then his expression turned to that of confusion when he realized who he was about to decapitate. He let me up. I scrambled back from him, then fell off the bed and back into a corner to get as far away from his as I could. I could just barely make out an apologetic look in the expression of rage on his face as he tried to grab at me. Then he decided against if, grabbed his shirt off the floor, and left, slamming the door in a way that shook the whole room. After he was gone for a few minutes, the realization of what just happened sunk in and I barely made it to the bathroom before I threw up.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
The last part I just thought it up out of nowhere