“Marie,” he said, his voice rusty but firm. “Get down.”
Her stunned mind took a few seconds too long to process it but then she kicked into gear, diving for the foam mattress just as a blast of ruby light took out the door at the end of the hallway.
“Logan!” Marie yelled, squinting through the settling dust.
A slight shape in black leather sprinted down the hall, suddenly disappearing in front of Logan’s cell. Marie pressed her eyes back to the seam in the wall, recognizing the girl as the one they called Kitty. She watched in confusion as Kitty touched Logan’s shoulder and he easily pulled free of the manacles. They clattered against the wall, still locked but empty.
Logan rolled his shoulders. “Thanks, Kit,” he growled, and then Marie was scrambling backwards as they both simply walked through the wall.
“Wha...” She couldn’t even formulate the question, but Kitty smiled reassuringly as Logan lifted Marie to her feet.
“It’s my mutation,” Kitty said. “I can phase anything I touch. It feels weird at first, but don’t worry, okay?”
“Why would I...” Marie started, and then to her shock Kitty took Logan’s arm in one hand and hers in another, pulling them both through the front barred wall of the cell.
“I’ve got some computers to hack,” Kitty said, letting go of their arms in the hallway. “The rest are right behind me.” She winked at Marie. “Good luck, you two.” Then she was sprinting further down the hall.
The ground rumbled beneath them. Marie looked back and saw Scott and Piotr working their way down the row of cells, blasting and bashing down doors respectively.
“Stay right behind me,” Logan growled.
“Forge...”
“They’ll get him. Dammit, Marie. Trust me.”
She nodded and he was already in motion, claws out, stalking down the hallway. She followed him up stairs and down endless corridors. From time to time he would stop and sniff, a low rumble escaping him. Three times they ran into guards, Logan eviscerating them with brutal efficiency without even breaking his stride.
He turned a corner, and the low rumble became a roar.
Marie skidded around the corner to find Logan, his feral gaze locked on the giant, shaggy-haired figure at the end of the hall.
“Sabretooth,” Logan growled, his voice low and predatory.
“Jimmy,” Sabretooth smirked.
Marie saw a momentary confusion pass across Logan’s face, and then he was sprinting forward.
“Sorry, Jimmy. Another time.”
Sabretooth ducked through the door, slamming it shut moments before Logan got there.
Marie suddenly felt a brutal yank on her hair. She stumbled backwards as a wiry arm wrapped around her waist and another around her upper chest, pinning her arms to her sides. She must have made some sound because Logan wheeled around, his golden eyes wild.
Marie felt a sharp sting at her neck. The hand at her chest brandished a scalpel briefly before placing it back against her pulse point.
“Everyone just settle down now.” Dr. Cornelius’s voice, slightly out of breath, sounded from over her shoulder.
Logan took a step forward, his chest rumbling like thunder, and Marie couldn’t stifle the whimper of pain that escaped her as the tip of the scalpel dug in further.
“Don’t be stupid, young man,” Cornelius said. “No one has to get hurt here.”
He half-lifted Marie, dragging her a stumbling couple of steps forward.
“There’s a helicopter at the top of those stairs,” Cornelius said. “That’s all I want. Just let me past, and I’ll let the girl go once I’m on the roof. You have my word.”
The rumble in Logan’s chest grew louder, but not loud enough to mask the sound of a helicopter propeller. The whine of the propeller grew higher and then shifted, growing more distant.
“I think Sabretooth took your ride,” Logan snarled. “Now let her go before I take your head off your shoulders.”
Marie heard Cornelius’s breath panting harder. “You dare to defy me?” he spat. “You mindless animals...” She felt the moment he made the decision, his arms tensing as his grip tightened on the scalpel in preparation.
“Now!” Logan snarled.
Marie could only watch in blank shock as Logan sprang forward, his claws disappearing into her chest.
I can’t even feel it, she thought in stunned horror. Am I already dead?
Cornelius gurgled and sputtered in her ear, and she suddenly realized that she didn’t feel anything at all -- not the claws in her chest, not Cornelius’s arms around her body. Nothing except the grip of a hand on her wrist.
She looked down at the small pale hand, her gaze traveling up the slim leather-clad arm until she was looking into Kitty’s wide eyes.
Both of them looked down to where not only Logan’s claws but his whole arm disappeared into Marie’s chest. With a low roar Logan jerked his claws free of Cornelius’s body, letting it fall to the ground at -- no, through -- her feet.
“This way, Rogue,” Kitty said softly, her voice sounding as shaken as Marie felt. She pulled Marie a few steps away from the body. “Ready?” she asked, and Marie nodded numbly.
Kitty let go of her arm, and Marie suddenly felt the ground beneath her feet, and then just as suddenly Logan’s arms around her, pressing her hard against his body, squeezing the breath from her lungs.
“Marie,” he breathed into her hair, so softly she thought she might have imagined it.
Abruptly, she was standing again, Logan’s back already turned to her. “Let’s move,” he said gruffly.
Marie and Kitty followed Logan down more corridors and stairs. The facility was in shambles -- chairs and tables tossed aside, smoking holes punched through walls. Plaster dust choked Marie’s lungs as she struggled to keep up with Logan’s punishing pace, her bare feet getting cut and scraped as she heedlessly scrambled over rubble.
Finally, they burst through a door and were out in the moonlight. Marie saw the lights of the jet in the distance, and started to follow Kitty in that direction.
“This way.” Logan’s hand on her arm pulled her around. Even in her exhaustion and confusion, she couldn’t help a gasp at the feeling of his bare skin against hers.
His eyes blazed into hers, his expression still unreadable. He moved his thumb against her arm -- a caress so slight and quick again she thought she must be imagining it -- and then he was pulling her away from the jet, to the treeline where a cluster of pines loomed in the moonlit night.
“They left us our own transport,” he stated curtly.
The pine needles pricked at her battered feet as she followed him, until finally he ducked past a thicket of shrubbery, wheeling a motorcycle out from its hiding place.
“You ever ride before?” he asked, and she shook her head.
He was already pushing the helmet on her head. “Just hold on tight, and try to lean when I lean, okay?”
She barely had her leg thrown over the seat before he was revving the bike. She wrapped her arms around his bare chest, pressing her cheek against his back as he took off. They bumped and jolted through the woods for a few minutes, making her teeth rattle, and then the path smoothed out.
She braved a peek over his shoulder and saw that they were hurtling down a winding country road. The motorcycle’s headlamp was off, only dim moonlight illuminating the twisting path.
She ducked back against Logan’s back, breathing in his scent and warmth, feeling the muscles of his back shifting underneath her cheek.
They rode for what seemed like hours. She felt exhaustion and the rumble of the motorcycle lull her into a mindless daze, her body automatically following Logan’s cues as they turned the corners.
Finally the path grew jolting again. She opened her eyes to find them back in the woods, the sky pinkening with the light of dawn. Logan slowed the motorcycle as the forest grew thicker, following a path only he seemed to see.
Eventually they came to a small clearing, where an even smaller cabin nestled against the pines.
Logan stopped the motorcycle at the front porch, swinging off the seat. Marie tried to jump down too, and felt her legs embarrassingly give way beneath her.
With an indecipherable grunt he caught her up under her knees, lifting her against his bare chest.
“Logan,” she protested weakly, but he was already up the porch steps, shifting her slightly so he could turn the knob. He shouldered the door open and stood her up, his hand remaining on her elbow until she was steady on her feet.
She hung her head, looking at her dirty bare toes as he went back to the door, locking it and shooting the deadbolt.
She was suddenly afraid to face him. What could she say, after all that she had done? Why wasn’t she allowed on the jet, with the others? Was she no longer welcome at the mansion?
“Logan...I’m s- so sorry...” she started, cringing at the stammer in her voice.
“Marie.” His voice cut her off, sounding forebodingly stern to her ears.
“Logan...”
“Come here, Marie.”
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