“Okay. All set. Do you need me for anything?” Sam asked brushing his hands clean to the thighs of his jeans. Backboard of the truck’s lorry was now open. Jackets, trousers, shirts and skirts, made from leather and pelts hung on the lorry, neatly arranged to display.
“No. Just go and have fun,” Marie said. First customers were already circling the truck, and she had noticed people tended to be afraid of Sam, probably because sheer size of him, and the predatory air he exuded. Sam shouldered his backpack and left, undoubtedly to look for the manager of the cage match. Now there was something more he had inherited from his father. Both were short tempered and prone to violence. And yet most caring people she had ever met. Even Logan, in his feral state had made a promise to take care of her. A promise he hadn’t been able to fulfill in the end, but now really wasn’t the time to hash it over. Now it was time to smile and bargain with the customers.
Sam came back shortly after noon, looking quite smug. He handed Marie a brown paper bag.
“Found this from a small shop. Thought you might like it…” Gifts were rare occasion in their family, so Marie took the bag from him eagerly and opened it. Inside was a small jeweler’s box.
“Sam…” She held the box on her palm and looked at him questioningly.
“I have been listening your petty excuses to why you can’t move in to settlement. This one will take care of at least one of those,” Sam said, took the box from her and opened it. Inside was a small ring. Simple band made out of steel.
“It’ll turn off mutations. Slip it on, and you can be like anybody else. Touch other people, wear any clothes you like, kiss, have sex…”
“Young man! My sex life, or the lack of it isn’t your concern!” Marie scolded him, trying to smile and failing miserably.
“Duh! My point was, that you could have a normal life. Do everything other people can do. Have fun. Come on… Just take it. Put it on,” Sam urged, pushing the box back to her. She took it, but closed the lid.
“Not now. Maybe later. Now I’m safer if my skin’s on…”
“Huh! That was the last of them…” Lorry was empty aside from hangers and racks. Few times she had had to return home with a pile of clothes instead of the money, but this time she had managed to sell every piece, even with a good price. She wouldn’t have to worry over next winter. She could even afford to some luxuries. Real coffee. Few extra bars of soap. Maybe go and see fights tonight. Spend a night in the settlement. Have some fun as Sam had proposed. Her fingers dove in to the pocket of her pants, and grazed lightly the velvet surface of the small box. No. Better let it be. She was carrying too much cash to go unprotected. She checked the truck one last time before going to find a suitable place to sleep over.
She managed to find moderately cheap room from an Inn near the marketplace.
“You in here for the fights?” Owner asked when cashing her in. She nodded little hesitantly. She wasn’t actually sure what had made her stay, but fights sounded as good reason as any other.
“You’re in for a real treat, then. I heard there are some veterans on the roster!” Owner smiled gap-toothed smile.
“Veterans?” she asked puzzled.
“Yeah. You know, from the war? The first war?” Owner clarified. Suddenly her mouth felt awfully dry. The few times Sam had gone in the cage, it had been filled with beer-bellied farmers and not much else. Now there would be trained fighters.
“I heard there’s even one Destroyer. Swiped the cage clean in the last town they visited…”
“Aren’t they all in the field?” she squeaked. Owner of the Inn mistook her quivering voice as a sign of enthusiasm.
“No, ma’am! Most of the Destroyers left the force after the peace treaty. I heard this one puts in a good show. You should go and settle in, you don’t want to miss it…” Man said, flashing a wide smile and winking at her knowingly.
Arena was few blocks away from the Inn. Huge cage, erected to the border of the settlement, and an auditorium built around it. Place was packed full with cheering and applauding people, but she managed to find a place near the ringside. Fighters were already entering the cage, each and every one of them wearing makeshift armors. No weapons were allowed, but many of them seemed to have found a way around that rule by decorating their padding and plates with spikes and blades. She spotted Sam, standing in the middle of the crowd, stretching his muscles and jumping slightly to warm up. He had used old tires of the truck to make an armor that shielded him from head to toe. He had used a whole week to it, then cursed and used another week to remodel it until it fit perfectly. He reminded a tortoise, but she had seen him moving around in it. No tortoise could move so graciously and efficiently.
There were ten men in the cage. Five more entered, their stance and attitude separating them from local fighters. They were part of the crew that arranged these matches. Instantly her eyes fixed to a bare back of one of those men. She recognized it. Recognized the way the muscles moved under flawless skin. Wild, dark hair, strong neck and shoulders, slightly crouched and tense posture. Way he was observing his surroundings.
“Logan…”
Hours passed. Men fell one after an other, until there were only two men left standing.
“Go down, kid. And stay down…” The one everybody called Wolverine growled. Sam shook his head. He hadn’t fought this long just to give up.
“If somebody’s going down, it’ll be you…” He hissed, spitting off blood that trickled from a cut lip.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you…” Wolverine snorted. His fist connected to the chest piece of Sam’s armor, punching him off from his feet.
“Stay the fuck down… Those ribs will heal in a month, but brain damage is more serious matter…” Wolverine grunted and kneed him to the side when he tried to get up. Sam rolled away from him and sprung on his feet.
“It’s not even that much money. Are you really willing to die over two thousand credits?” wolverine asked, tilting his head. Sam punched his fists together.
“Nobody’s going to die in here. But you’re going down now,” he promised, charging towards his opponent headfirst. The way he had finished most of his fights tonight, head-butting other fighters unconscious. Only this time it didn’t work.
Wolverine’s knee was pressing between his shoulder blades. One of his arms was curled around his throat, twisting his head painfully backwards. Other kept his flailing arms out of the way.
“Give up already. I’ll split the pot with you if you stay down now,” Sam could hear him murmur, close to his ear. Then suddenly grip around his throat tightened to the point that it was almost impossible to breathe.
“Where is she!”
“Who…” Sam managed to choke out the question. Wolverine paid no attention to his struggles, just leaned closer against him, until his nose was practically buried to the back of his neck.
“Fuck…” Suddenly helmet was yanked away from him. Sharp knock to the back of his head was enough to stop Sam from getting up.
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