Back at base camp, Logan stretched the girl out along the bed in his small allocated room. He kept the lights off. Bright light seemed to unsettle her. It's hard to tell for sure; when she does manage to open her eyes they are unfocused and passive. Her dark orbs seemed to look though you rather than at you.

Her smell was all wrong too. Young females around this age usually smelt good, his nose picked up on which teens were fertile very quickly. He couldn't help it; it was part of his natural instincts to sniff out the best mate. The girl could have been too young for that yet, he couldn't tell. She smelt too much of chemicals for Logan to detect her real scent. He didn't know if she was a mutant.

Mr Lehnsherr appeared at the doorway. "The other children tell me the girl is not a mutant." He began.

"Spike face said she was dangerous?"

Eric nodded once. "They tell me she was always kept away from them but she is not a mutant."

"What does that mean?"

"It means we should put her down.." The old mans voice was harsh. The beast in Logan reared up at the thought of killing an innocent child.

"Put her down? She is just a kid!"

"She is suffering. It's the kindest thing to do."

"Eric.. she isn't an animal.."

"She no mutant either, there is not place for her here. She doesn't belong anywhere."

"I won't let you kill her." Logan's hulking frame covered the doorway; he was prepared to fight the old man to protect the kid, prepared to fight anyone.

"Logan, I don't want to lose you over this trivial matter. Your mutation is very helpful to our cause." Logan looked at the floor struggling to suppress his anger. He could hear his hear his heart pounding in his ears, a fluid rhythmical thumping.

"I can't be of assistance any longer" He muttered. He needed to get the kid outta there as soon as possible and he knew where he should go, even if he didn't like the man who could help. "And you're wrong.. she belongs with me."

"So be it." The old man turned and was gone with the swish of his cloak. Logan felt a sense of responsibility for the girl, at least until he knew she was being properly cared for.

...

Logan laid the girl across the back seats of a stolen Sudan and strapped all the belt buckles around her securely. She was too weak to sit that long by herself and was asleep most of the time anyway. She should at least be comfortable.

It was approximately forty hours drive from Alberta to Westchester; Logan could do that in a week with plenty of stops at diners and motels so the girl could regain some strength.

A few hours later, Logan stopped at a seedy motel. The type where the neon sign flickers all night and you can see it though the piece of shit curtains they put in all the rooms. He locked the kid in while he went to get some medical supplies. He didn't suppose she could drink so he brought some extra things for a makeshift IV drip.

In the dim light of the room, Logan properly assessed the damage. Starting with her face, he gently dragged the damp wash cloth across her hot cheeks and forehead. Her once full lips were chapped. Dry skin crusty, pieces breaking off in large flakes. Her hollowed cheeks and forehead were now flushed, clammy with fever, the rest of her body cold to the touch. Bringing her out of the conditioned environment she was used to was not good for her immune system.

What scared him most were her eyes, large and globular, staring with an unfocused haziness. Too big in her tiny skull, deep dark mocha brown. Strikingly beautiful against her pale skin, although they were rimmed with brownish purple smudges. The kid had no eyelashes either, Logan wondered if she'd pulled them out herself.

He left her to rest while she finished the IV bag. He didn't want to move her again but the kid was filthy. Hair matted with blood, her feet blackened with months of grime. Carefully picking up her tiny form, Logan huddled her into the shower, holding her against his chest in the hospital gown. The warm water trickled down his neck and back to keep the spray out of her face. After all, he didn't want to frighten the kid. She was as limp as a rag doll.

Black water swirled down the plug hole, the remaining blood and god knows what sticking hard to her skin. He wanted to use soap but it might do more damage than good. Lowering her feet to the ground, Logan cut the cords on the dirty rag she was wearing with a single claw and let it fall to the floor.

"Fuck" he breathed. Her mutilated body in this unforgiving light was a horrifying thing. Her skin was taught and waxy, paper thin. At least three broken ribs, concave stomach, mapped in multi-colored bruises, ones in the shape of fingers on her neck. Teeth prints in places, cuts, burns.

Vile rage built inside his chest the longer he looked at her, he felt as if he were chocking on it imagining the sick fucks who did this to her. What son of a bitch could put this defenceless little girl though this much pain, this much torture? Who could hurt another human being to this degree? How old was she anyway?

Her chest was as flat as a ten year old boys, her body had a thin, almost invisible layer of hair downy white hair. At wild guess, Logan would say she was about fourteen? But she was so malnourished, so utterly dead to the world, he couldn't even call that a valid guess. Her eyes were old enough to show a lifetime of pain.

Logan laid her back on the clean side of the bed after drying her with the piece of shit hairdryer he found in a draw. The mild stream of warm air was a good temperature for her delicate skin but not effective enough. He ended up blotting her dry with toilet paper, wrapping her up after in one of his huge shirts to protect her modesty, even though she was too spaced out to acknowledge this.

Engraved on her lower back, right between where her pelvic bones jutted out, was what looked like a barcode serial number; a few zeros, one, seven, two, zero, zero, one, four. The scars were raised, white; Braille for barbaric. Logan had no idea what this meant. The girl stared at him with fuzzy eyes, heavily lidded with exhaustion. He stoked her cheek, fingers slightly tingling from the soft touch.

"Go to sleep now baby." He whispered to her, not sure she could understand a word he said. He wondered why she was chosen, why did they chose a girl without an active mutation? Were they trying to force a regular human to mutate? He turned off the lamp and laid down beside her in the semi darkness wondering and hoping the girl would survive.
Chapter End Notes:
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