Knowing inside that pushing himself much further would be sheer stupidity and liable to make him miss something, Logan turned the bike back onto the road heading north out of town. For once, the freezing wind on his face didn't bother him. His mind was too alive with thoughts of what he'd glimpsed. Of who he'd glimpsed.... The moment he thought of her, her scent filled his senses like a perfume. Sweet, and yet, with a subtle warm spice undertone. Definitely one of the more pleasant smells he'd encountered. One he'd like to smell again... With a mental smack upside the head, Logan cut his internal reverie short.
"For chrissake, you haven't even SEEN her yet, asshole..." he laughed out loud. He was still chuckling under his breath when he finally saw another little motel off the side of the road. It was out in the middle of nowhere, set slightly back into the woods that lined the roadway, but it was still a driveable distance ot Crooked River. All in all, it would suit him just fine. He'd have his privacy, and still be able to look around. Make a few inquiries...
The man behind the counter wasn't nearly so jumpy as the proprietor of the last motel, and Logan was checked into his room with a minimum of fuss. The moment he was in the door, the leather jacket hit the floor, the denim landed on a chair, and he was face down on the bed. God, he was exhausted.... Just hoped that the nightmares let him sleep a little bit longer this time...
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*FLASH* hands holding him down, struggling...
*FLASH* mask being pulled over his face, eyes wide open...
*FLASH* voice screaming : LOGAN!!!!!
*FLASH* being lowered into liquid, all sounds drowned out...
Logan shot upright in the bed, sheets tangled around him, his chest heaving and gasping for air. Without a conscious thought, the claws popped out into the mattress at either side of his trembling body. A voice.... there had been a voice this time.... a woman's voice... The unfamiliar sensation of tears trickling down his face brought him back to himself with a cold shock. The claws slid back in, and he brought up a numb hand to wipe them away. As he stared at the glistening drops on his fingertips, questions ran rampant through his mind. Who the hell was this woman?! And what exactly did she mean to him?! With an groan filled with too many long days and nights of not knowing a thing about his past, he threw himself back down on the bed and lay staring at the ceiling. Eyes wide open, he stared at the cracks in the plaster for hours.. until exhaustion claimed him again and his eyes slid shut into sleep. This time, undisturbed by nightmares of a past he couldn't even remember...
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The weak sun of a late winter afternoon was filtering its way through the blinds when Logan finally rolled over and opened his eyes. Despite having slept only a few more uninterrupted hours, he felt more focused than he had in the past several days. After a breakfast of beef jerky washed down by instant coffee made with hot tap water, he was back on the motorcycle and headed for Crooked River at a wreckless pace. With the day's light rapidly vanishing, he wanted to at least reach the town before most of the locals holed up for the night. Last night alone had proven that the drunks at the bar weren't going to be much help....
As the bike sped along the barren highway, his thoughts drifted once more to the figure he'd seen darting between the trees. She'd move with a speed and lithe grace that alone would have marked her as something other than human. She'd seemed on the shorter side, but with nothing other than timber trees and pines to compare her to, he couldn't be certain of that. And although, like his other senses, his eyesight was excellent, the darkness had obscured her coloring. Hell, she coud've been brown, black, green or purple, for all he knew. All he was certain of was that the fleeing figure had been that of a woman. A woman with a very intriguing scent.... One that, upon recollection, arose instantly from memory to pervade his senses. With nothing more to do than keep an eye on the road, he let his mind wander and wrapped himself in the remembrance of it...
That is, until it became far too powerful and real for it to be just a figment of his imagination. With a snap, he came back to himself. Slowing the bike and tilting his head to the side, he inhaled deeply. Yep, there it was..... she was somewhere in the woods off to his left. The direction the wind was coming from.... And with that wind, came the sound of baying hounds. Hunting dogs... An instantaneous rush of adrenaline and rage shot through him as he realized exactly who was likely being hunted. Spinning the bike in a half circle that left skid marks on the tar, Logan acclerated and hit the side of the road, jumping clear over the incline that ran parallel to it. Almost losing his balance on the unbroken hardpacked snow, he had to fight to regain control before taking off into the woods in the direction the scent and baying was coming from. He got maybe fifty yards from the road, before the front wheel of the cycle bogged down in the softer snow and he had to abandon it to proceed on foot. At a dead run, adrenaline pumping, he could now smell the dogs, the heavy stink of sweat on the men (two? maybe three?) as he rapidly closed the gap. The scents weren't changing direction anymore, and they were getting stronger - the hounds must've brought their quarry to bay. Logan cursed under his breath as he drove himself to go even faster.
There. Up ahead, in a clearing... He came to an abrupt halt behind a large evergreen, as he caught sight of three men halfway encircling a large oak. One of them had two hounds on a lead, and the dogs were lunging and snarling at whatever stood before the men. As Logan eased silently up behind them, he caught a glimpse of a terrified woman, backed up against the tree, panicked eyes darting left and right. Amber eyes, like a wolf... One of the other two men laughed and tossed a branch at her. With a speed that made it almost a blur of motion, the woman brought up a hand tipped with three gleaming claws - claws exactly like his own - and sliced the branch in two before it could hit her. Rather than be frightened by this display of skill, it only made the men laugh harder. Logan could feel his anger rising to the point where his vision became tinged with red and a low growl began to rise from his chest. Twenty feet away... maybe... The man who'd thrown the branch nudged one of his buddies.
"Hey, think she could hit two at the same time?" This brought guffaws from his pals and they each reached down to pick up a branch. They had their arms back, prepared to throw, when a deep, angry voice broke the silence behind them.
"I know I could..." Two of the men whipped around to face Logan, as he stepped out from where he'd been crouching. The third man kept his eye on the small woman still pressed against the tree trunk. He had to give them credit, they weren't COMPLETELY stupid...
"What d'you think you're doing out here, mister?" The largest of the three men bit out, trying to put Logan on the defensive. Logan just smiled a slow, lethal smile, as he responded.
"Might ask the same of you." Obviously taken aback by the fact that the strange man facing all three of them wasn't the least intimidated, the big man brought up the shotgun he'd held at his side and pointed it directly at Logan's chest.
"I'd say, mind your own business, stranger." One gun... not bad odds.... yeah, it'd hurt like hell, but his body would heal it even as he was moving and he doubted the idiot would be able to reload for a second shot. Logan let out a low chuckle and all three men felt the hairs on the back of their necks rise. That's when the second man brought another shotgun to bear on him. OK, now that was NOT good... Out of the corner of his eye, Logan could see the dog handler backing away towards the edge of the clearing, pulling his dogs after him. Obviously not as ready to commit murder as his friends.. Another quick glance showed the woman still up against the tree. This time, though, he could see a slight change in her stance. She was preparing for something - he just didn't know what... Figuring that she was probably getting ready to bolt, Logan took a chance. Shot twice, he'd be out of it. But they'd leave him for dead and he'd eventually heal it. Important thing was, their focus would be on him, and not the woman. Give her a better chance at getting away... With a slight outwards motion of both arms, out came the claws.
"Holy shit, Marty!! He's just like her! A goddamn mutant!!" the smaller of the two men shouted, his gun starting to waver slightly. The big man hissed for him to shut up.
"Marty, huh?" Logan drawled sarcastically. "Still having trouble getting it up?" The instant he said it, Logan saw the other man's eyes narrow in rage and he knew what was coming. Still not enough time to prepare for it. Never was...
Excruciating pain blossomed across his chest as Marty pulled the trigger. A second later, the other gun went off and before Logan's body had even stopped reeling from the first shot, new pain exploded in his side. As he spit out a weak curse and felt his body falling backwards, Logan saw a blur of movement behind the other two men. The woman.... Then his eyes rolled up in his head and he saw no more....
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Warmth radiating from his chest and side..... A spicy scent mixing with the copper smell of blood... Pain that was steadily diminishing... Much faster than it should be...
With a supreme effort, Logan managed to open his eyes. Crouching over him, with one hand over the wound in his chest and one over that in his side, was the mystery woman he'd been looking for. As his swimming vision fought to focus, he could see that she had her eyes tightly closed and her lips were clenched in pain. He continued to watch as her face seemed to draw in, the skin stretching over the high cheekbones. With sudden understanding, Logan knew what she was doing. She was healing him. Taking the pain into herself and using her own energies to heal his wounds. But at what cost to herself? Even as he thought it, she gave a low moan and pitched over backwards. He struggled to sit up on arms that felt like they had a serious case of pins and needles and pulled himself to her side. Her eyes had rolled up into her head and her breathing was shallow. The cost had apparently been high...
Feeling his own abilities finishing what she'd started, Logan climbed to his feet and looked around the clearing. The two men, Marty and his buddy, lay where they'd fallen. Both necks slashed wide open, their blood already congealing on the cold snow... Shaking his head at their stupidity, Logan bent down and managed to get his arms under the still weight of the woman. Straightening, he let her head loll against his chest as he slowly made his way back to the bike. Shoulder length black hair fell down across her pale beautiful face and Logan found himself staring down at her. Something there, stirring at the back of his mind, something he couldn't quite touch.... He shook his aching head to clear it and pushed onwards.
Driving a bike with dead weight in his lap was gonna be a bitch.....
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