The Demon's Angel

Chapter 42

Kurt
The ride seemed to take forever. Both women were very anxious, and they silently worked to get us there as fast as possible. I couldn't do much besides play with my tail anxiously.

     Miss Grey picked up the communication device and pushed some buttons. It beeped. "Professor?" called a gruff voice. She sighed with relief. "Logan, thank God. We couldn't reach anyone at the Mansion." "No one's left," answered Logan. I looked up at the women, just in time to see them exchange distraught expressions. "And the children?" asked Miss Monroe anxiously. "Some of them escaped, but I'm not sure about the rest." Miss Munroe's face darkened. I curled up tighter in my seat, remembering her lightning powers fearfully. Miss Grey seemed to notice as well. "We haven't been able to reach the Professor or Scott either." Miss Monroe took over the communication device as Miss Grey turned off the autopilot. "Where are you?" she asked. Logan answered, "Boston, at Bobby Drake's house." "Alright. We're on our way." I sighed at the word Boston. I thought that I wouldn't have to go back there again. "And Storm?" added Logan. "Make it fast." 

I stared out of a window. More new people.... Would they take to me as well as Miss Grey and Miss Monroe had? As I got lost in my thoughts, I noticed something. "Miss Grey?" I called. She looked back. "You can just call me Jean, Kurt. You don't have to call either of us by our last names." I sighed. "Fine. Jean, I zink I see your friends. Zere is a boy shooting flames...." She let out a curse and flipped some controls.  We began to descend. "Pyro really suits him," muttered Storm as we descended. I stared down at the flickering flames and demolished police cars and silently agreed with her.

    We landed in the street and lowered the ramp. I took a deep breath as the three children and an older man, Logan I guessed, boarded quickly. Jean smiled at him, and he winked. They all sat down quickly and buckled in, before I plucked up the courage to pop up from my hiding place behind a seat. I pasted a smile on my face. "Guten Morgen!" I said pleasantly. The girl screamed, and I flinched. Logan raised an eyebrow at me. "Guten Abend who the hell are you?" I grinned. 'Maybe if I seem confident, they'll think I am...' I thought nervously. "I am Kurt Vagner, but in ze München Circus I vas known as ze Amazing Nightcraw-" "Save it," he interrupted. I sighed and crouched back down, pulling my knees to my chest and curling my tail around them. "Storm?" "We're out of here!" she replied.

    I could feel the children's stares, their silent questions. I tucked my head behind my knees as well, leaving only a tuft of dark hair showing. I told myself it was because I wanted to sleep, but I knew inside that I was just trying to hide. Why did none of them look as strange as me? They were all mutants, right? So, why was I the only one that had a mutation that expressed itself so obviously? Was I the only one like this? Would I ever fit in anywhere besides in the circus? Everyone else was chatting happily, or at least discussing what would come next. I ignored them and continued to study every crease in my old striped pants.

    "How far are we?" asked Logan. I peeked out from my 'hiding spot'. He was walking over to Jean. She answered, "We're coming up on the mansion now." I lifted my head and glanced out of a window. I was still trying to get a glimpse of this mansion everyone kept talking about, when the monitor beeped. I turned to look at the cockpit, where two red dots seemed to be approaching us. "Zis can't be good," I muttered.

   I was right. "I've got two signals approaching!" called Storm. I turned to look out the window, only to see two jets flanking us. My eyes widened. The radio crackled to life. "Unidentified aircraft, you are ordered to descend 20,000 feet and return with an escort to Hanscom Air Force Base. Failure to comply will result in the use of extreme force," ordered an official-sounding voice. Storm's eyebrows rose. "Somebody's angry," she commented sarcastically. Logan turned to glare at one of the boys, the one that had a lighter. "I wonder why," he growled. The girl spoke up nervously. "What are we going to do?" That's what I wanted to know. Storm looked warily at the monitor. "They're falling back..." she muttered. A loud beep went off. Storm sounded alarmed as she said, "They're marking us. They're going to fire!" Logan's eyes widened. "What?!" "Hang on!" she shouted. The jet swerved and dipped, trying to shake off the other jets. I tightened my grip on the armrests of my seat as we did a barrel roll. My claws pierced the leather. I quickly did the sign of the cross.

     I looked out of the windows. The fighters were still on our trail. I glanced at the children. Their eyes were wide, and their chests heaved. I was pretty close to panic myself. Storm yelled, "There are minors! There are children present! Please don't fire! Disengage!" The jets ignored the desperate request. I made the sign of the cross and thought, "God, please don't let me die here...." "Don't we have any weapons in this heap?" growled Logan. Jean glanced at Storm. She nodded. I looked between the two of them, confused. Suddenly, her eyes turned to a burning white. I glanced out the window to see dark clouds forming. Lightning flashed ominously, and we flew straight into it. The fighters followed. Clouds begin to swirl, faster and faster, twisting into long funnels: tornados. It started with one, then another and another until the sky was full of them. They writhed like giant serpents, allowing the jet to pass between them. The fighters, on the other hand, struggled. They darted and weaved, trying to avoid the deadly winds.

    Suddenly, one jet was hurled across the sky. I was momentarily horrified, until I saw the small dot that was the pilot floating safely to the ground with a parachute. I let out a sigh of relief. The remaining fighter was still in pursuit, though. It had found a way around Storm's tornado. Jean and Logan glanced at the beeping radar screen, then nervously at Storm. She was gritting her teeth, her anger growing. The jet continued to avoid tornadoes. It was quickly gaining on us, but then, clouds begin to encase it. Soon, we were unable to even see it.

     The children and I cheered when we saw the small figure of the second ejected pilot, but the other adults seemed a little reluctant to celebrate at that moment. They were right not to, as two missiles flew out from where the plane had been flung to the ground, passing through the tornadoes as if they weren't even there. Jean narrowed her eyes at the two blips on the screen, concentrating as Storm yanked the stick back, trying desperately to avoid them. Logan's eyes widened as Jean's narrowed into tiny slits. I glanced out of the window and saw the missile begin to wobble. After a second, it veered off course and exploded.

   I glanced worriedly over at the girl. She was frantically trying to buckle herself in, but it seemed that the buckle was broken. She was finally able to get three out of four buckles to stick, but when she tried to click the final one into place, it all fell apart again. I looked nervously at Jean. Her eyes were squeezed shut, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. Her eyes flew open, and for the first time since the ordeal had begun, they were filled with pure horror. "Oh God," she whispered. The missile exploded with a deafening boom, and the cockpit shook. Part of the roof was ripped away, and everyone's screams were drowned by the shrieking of the wind. The girl was instantly ripped out, her eyes wide with terror. My own eyes widened, and without thinking, I turned to stare out the window, and teleported. I snatched the screaming and flailing girl. My eyes widened as my stomach seemed to rise to my throat. The ground was getting closer and closer. This was just like the accident with Amanda, except more deadly. The girl's screaming ripped me out of my own terror. I shook my head and closed my eyes. In a haze of smoke, we landed onto the floor of the jet with a thump. I clutched her to myself with both arms, using my tail to hold us both down.

   Storm and Jean were both frantically trying to stabilize the jet. Storm yanked on the stick, desperately trying to pull out of the nosedive. Jean turned and grabbed Logan's hand. Her eyes began to tear up. Logan seemed surprised, but he still tried to squeeze her hand reassuringly. I squeezed my eyes shut, muttering prayers under my breath as I waited for the inevitable crunch of metal meeting ground, hoping that there was a tiny, minuscule chance that we would survive impact. When we didn't hit the ground, I risked a peek. My eyes widened at the strange sight before me. "Um.... Storm?" I stuttered. Storm opened her own eyes. I pointed to the roof. We both stared in amazement as the metal bent itself over the hole with a loud groan, repairing it. Storm glanced over at Jean, who at this point had opened her eyes as well. "Jean?" The wind's screams died down as the hole closed over completely. She shook her head, bewildered. "It's not me..." she muttered as she looked down at the controls.

     The plane's descent slowed. With a slight jolt, we stopped about fifteen feet off of the ground. We all stared at each other, shocked, before looking out of the windshield. In a clearing directly below us, two figures stood, that of an older man with his hand outstretched and.... a blue woman? The man's face spread into a grin as he made some inaudible comment. I was so shocked that I didn't really process that he was laughing at our near death until we had all calmed down.