FalconX: The Wretched (Book One)

Chapter 12

~~At the Xavier Institute~~

            Logan had not had a very good sleep that night; he stayed awake all night thinking about me and what my intentions were that the professor had been talking about. But, in the middle of the night he had fallen into a deep sleep that lasted for about an hour. For the rest of the night he had just stared at the dark ceiling pondering about life.

            As Logan was staring at the ceiling he heard the morning breakfast bell, and that indicated that he needed to get ready and get to training. He sat up and stretched his sore ligaments, and as he was stretching his back he saw my letter on his nightstand.

            He looked at it in a strange way, but then he realized that it was for him. Logan stood up and walked towards it like it was a bomb, then he picked it up and opened it not reading if it was addressed to him or not. His dark eyes scanned the letter, it was written in a neat handwriting that he could recognize any time— it was mine.

            He read the letter aloud.

“Dear Logan,

            Tomorrow when you wake up you won’t see me. No, I’m not killing myself, I’m running away.

            For a while I’ve been planning to kill the man who made us, but he made me a freak. Tomorrow I will be in New York City, probably somewhere in the Bronx, but don’t come after me. You know how much I hate Stryker, and you hate him too.

            This will be a deed to humanity and mutants everywhere.

            I’ll be back soon,

            Mara Barton,” Logan read softly.

            He plopped down on his bed and stared at the letter, his heart hurt, and he felt terrible inside. Logan thought my plan was madness and that it couldn’t be done, but then he realized that it was me that was doing it—he had always said that he had never seen me give up, and that I was one of the toughest people he knew.

            But, as he was wallowing in grief he heard a subtle knock at the door. “Come in,” Logan grunted. And rolling in through his door way was Professor X, and once he saw that Logan had the letter I had written in his hands his expression softened.

            “Why didn’t you tell me,” Logan asked in a dull tone.

            Professor X looked at the ground for a moment, but looked back up at Logan and said with a smile, “She didn’t want you to follow her. Mara is a brave girl going out and trying to kill him and you and I both know she’s never going to give up until he is dead. Just try to talk to her one more time.” Then he rolled out of Logan’s room.

~~Back at the motel~~

            I sat on the roof and I watched the sun come up over the horizon, it illuminated the Bronx neighborhoods, and my blue eyes watched the cars and people that rushed all over the place. Quietly, I sighed as I thought about Logan and what he must have been going through with me leaving.

            In the parking lot I saw a black Harley pull up, the driver had on a black helmet and leather coat. The driver took off his helmet and looked up at me, and I saw that it was Logan; he had come after me after all.

            I ran down off of the roof down onto the ground and up to Logan, he looked down at me in loving way and hugged me. My head was pressed up against his hard chest, and I wrapped my arms around his torso and sighed. He let go of me and I looked up at him, “Why’d you follow me?” I asked him sternly.

            “I wanted to know where you were and most importantly if you were safe,” Logan said as he walked towards the motel rooms, and then he stated, “Let’s go inside.”

            We walked up the stairs towards my room on the third floor, and I unlocked the door to find Abi still missing and Silver sleeping peacefully in our bed. Logan looked at Silver and asked, “Are you two in separate beds?”

            “Nope, but Stark is missing,” I replied.

            “That’s going to be a problem, then,” Logan stated.

I picked up one of Silver’s shoes by the doorway and threw it at him, he moaned, but after a minute or so he sat up and looked at Logan and me in a surprised manor. He got out of bed and walked over to us, “Um. . . What’s Logan doing here?” Silver asked.

“I was here to talk some sense into you three heathens, but I can clearly see that you all can handle yourselves,” Logan said proudly, but then he asked us, “Where’s Stark?”

“I don’t know,” I said confusedly, “I woke up in the middle of the night and she was gone. She just disappeared.”

Logan looked confused but he just went along with it, and then he asked, “Well, if you need me you know where to find me.” He said walking to the door, and I didn’t stop him; he opened the door and looked back at us, his dark eyes were sad, but he went out through the door without a final goodbye.

Silver and I were now alone, and I sat down on Abi’s messy bed, Silver sat next to me and put his arm around my shoulder. “We need to go out into the city and do recon today, because I can’t stand knowing Stryker’s still alive,” I said sadly while standing up.

In my black backpack I pulled out a pair of clothes, and I didn’t care if they matched or not; I just cared if I had the essentials to wear. I walked into the bathroom and locked the door behind me, and I sat down on the closed toilet seat. My head was in my hands and my mind was going a million miles per hour, I couldn’t stop thinking about what Stryker had told me about Silver—could it be true?

I took a deep breath in and kept it in for a white and then I let it out in one long sigh. Depression clouded my thoughts at what I was going to do tonight, but as I was wallowing in grief I heard a frantic knock at the door. It was probably Logan.

So, I stood up and got dressed. I was now wearing a plain, black t-shirt, black skinny jeans, and a purple flannel shirt; it was very comfortable.

Suddenly, I heard a yelp and something fall. That was strange, so I waited a few minutes to see if there would be another noise, but all I hear was the slamming of a door. It must have been Logan and silver, surely he wouldn’t let anyone else in that wasn’t trustworthy.

Slowly, I opened the door to the bathroom, and nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.

The room was a complete mess; a lamp was broken on the floor, the bed sheets on each bed were ripped off, and one had a suspicious red stain on it that looked all too much like blood, and the most important factor was that Silver was missing.

On the table next to our beds was a notepad, and I walked over to it franticly; I ripped it off of the rest of the pad and began to read the only two words that were on it:

We know.

My heart was racing a mile a minute and I looked over at the stain on Abi’s bed; it couldn’t be. That was Silver’s blood. It explained everything: the thump, the yell, and the frantic knocking—Stryker and his team knew about my plans to kill him, and I bet the devil that he was prepared for me to come.

I crumbled the letter and slouched down on the side of Silver and I’s bed, and I let only two tears run down my face—that was the first time I cried since I was four. It hurt so bad on the inside, and it felt like a thousand needles were jabbing into my insides: this is what pain felt like. It was a heart ache.

My head was in my hands and I let myself wallow in sadness.

If only I had gotten out sooner I would have saved him, I could have saved him. . . .

My blue eyes just stared at the ground for god knows how long, and I just stared; I did nothing at all. But, as I was set in a deep depression, I heard the door open. I looked up and I saw Abi, she had bags in her arms, and she gasped at the sight of the room. “They know,” I stated.