Fever Dreams
Chapter 1
by
Chris



On a back road, Northern Alberta, Canada.....

The wind howled through the trees, the sheer force of it driving into his face making it difficult to see the road ahead. The snowfall, which had gotten steadily worse over the past half hour, made steering the damn motorcycle even MORE difficult.... A small red neon sign up ahead glowed dimly through the veil of white that surrounded Logan as he struggled to keep the bike from skidding right off the narrow road. With a muffled curse that was drowned out by the wind, he managed to turn the bike into the lot in front of the tiny beaten up motel, without impaling himself on the huge pine that almost obscured it from the road. Not that it would really be a problem - just hurt like a son of a bitch...

Leaning the bike up against the side of the office, Logan yanked the door open and stepped in quickly out of the bitterly cold wind. The grizzly old man behind the desk looked up, surprised to have a guest come in out of what looked to be one hell of a storm. He swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat at the sight of the angry scowl on the face of his decidedly unnerving guest and spoke up.

"What can I do you for?"

"Need a room..." The voice was low and reminded the old man of the sound of a wolf growling. A shiver ran down his spine and he found his hand moving of it's own volition towards the shotgun he kept under the desk. Those feral eyes locked on him and the deep voice rumbled again. "Now don't be doing anything stupid, old timer, I'm not here to cause any trouble. All I want is a room." The sudden ringing of the phone on the desk between them made them both jump. Feeling sheepish about his paranoia, the old man smiled.

"Sorry about that - we don't get too many visitors up this way during winter. Don't even know why I keep it open..." he explained, as his hand lifted the receiver from the cradle and brought it to his ear. "Hello, Fireside Motel, can I help you?" As Logan watched, the man's eyes widened as he turned to face him again, holding one hand over the mouthpiece.

"Um.... your name Logan?" Curious about the question, Logan nodded. The proprietor held the phone out to him. "Then this is for you. Professor somebody or other..." With a sigh, Logan took the phone and held it to his ear.

"What are you bothering me for NOW, Chuck?" Although his voice was gruff, he was laughing inside. Remembering what'd happened the LAST time the Professor had contacted him. Wanting to warn him that the police hadn't found any sign of Sabertooth's body after the fight atop the Statue of Liberty, the Professor had used Cerebro to speak directly into Logan's mind. Unfortunately, he hadn't thought about the reaction he might receive. Startled by the sudden voice inside his head, Logan had lost control of the motorcycle and skidded right off the road into a ditch. After the torrent of curses that had spewed out of his mouth, directed mainly at Xavier, the Professor had obviously learned his lesson...

"Logan, I have some information that I think you'll want to hear. Given your reaction the last time I spoke into your mind, getting you to stop at this motel was the only way to reach you."

"Damn right I don't want you in my head, cueball... Wait a second, you mean, all this? The snow? The wind?!" His voice was tightening in anger with every word, realizing that he'd been manipulated.

"Calm down, Logan. Storm acted under my instructions. What I need to tell you is very important and it was the only way." Closing his eyes and counting silently to ten, Logan swallowed the rage threatening to spill over inside and ALMOST succeeded in not growling into the phone.

"Spit it out then. I'm practically a popsicle from your girl Storm's 'actions', I'm tired, and I need a drink." Realizing that the proprietor was blatantly staring at him, Logan spoke again. "Hold on, Chuck. I don't want an audience." Putting the phone down on the desk, he leaned towards the old man.

"Isn't there something better you could be doing right now?" With a squeak, the proprietor nodded his head quickly.

"Yep, just gonna go get that room ready for you now..." He scurried off, leaving Logan alone in the office. With a tired sigh, he picked the phone back up.

"Alright, shoot."

"An old acquaintance of mine was recently up that way. Actually, not far from Alkali Lake. He passed along to me something he'd seen. Apparently, there's a woman who lives in the woods up there. The Native American population is convinced she's a manitou, a spirit of some kind. The locals think she's just some kind of crazy hermit."

"And just what the hell does this all have to do with ME, Professor?" Logan ground out, fighting to keep his growing annoyance out of his voice.

"I am getting to that, Logan," Xavier chuckled. Chastised, Logan muttered a short 'sorry'. "As I was saying, he said he had seen something he thought I might find interesting. Seems this woman, whomever she might be, was attacked recently. My acquaintance witnessed the tail end of it and swears he saw metal claws appear out of her hands."

As Xavier's words slowly sank in, Logan stared at the wall in numb shock. He wasn't the only one.... the bastards had done it to someone else..... someone who might still remember... All the rage, all the pain, all the hate that had been brewing inside him for the past 15 years boiled up and he was vaguely aware of the claws sliding out of his hand. Xavier's voice shouting from the phone brought him slowly back to reality.

"Logan? Logan, are you there? Logan, answer me!"

"Keep your shirt on, Chuck. I'm still here." But not alone. Not anymore.... As Xavier gave him directions to where the woman had been sighted, Logan grabbed a scrap of paper off the desk and quickly wrote them down. "So, you gonna have..." Even as the words left his lips, he could see the snow dying down outside to a light flurry.

"Already done, my friend." Xavier responded with a low chuckle.

"Dammit, cueball, you know how I feel when you read my mind!" Logan growled, amused in spite of himself.

"It wouldn't take a telepath to know what you're thinking, Logan. Are you going to head there now?" Eyeing the growing darkness outside and feeling the exhaustion deep in his bones, Logan stifled a curse.

"No. Think I'm gonna hole up here and head out in the morning..."

"Wise choice.... and Logan?"

"Yeah?"

"I hope you find what you're looking for." The professor's voice was soft and kind, and his words made Logan feel uncomfortable. He owed this man alot. More than he could probably ever repay...

"Yeah. Thanks.... Charles." Before any more could be said, he hung up the phone. Standing in the empty office, he stared down at the adamantium claws that had been both the result and source of so much pain in his life. That had marked him as different, even from other mutants. But not anymore. Now there was someone out there just like him. And no matter what it took, he was going to find her....



CHAPTERS:   1   2   3   4   5   6   7   8   9   10   11   12   13   14   15   16   17   18   19   20   21   22




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