I had ended up telling Mom a highly edited version of what had happened over the past six months. Jason had helped me leave. We hid out for a while, but when Jason went to find his uncle, the Cult found him and he was killed. I stayed with some friends who had helped me out and when I had been thinking things out, I decided to find her. While on the way here, I ran into some trouble. The cult was still hunting me and had caught up, but I got away, and decided to continue my search. I didn’t mention that I was a mutant or that I had tried to kill myself when I found out Jason had died. It just seemed a bit to much to tell in one sitting.

The two of us still managed to stay up half the night talking and relating our stories. There was a definite connection, but it took time to catch up on seven years of separation and misguided feelings. I hoped she would still accept me when I managed to tell her the whole truth. I still felt a bit like she abandoned me when she left but I know that she was afraid for her own life and she tried to tell me, but that I didn’t want to listen. I remember when she and my father started fighting. I don’t know over what, but I think she was starting to realize how little my father stood for and how he’d warped his beliefs. She said those arguments are what convinced her that my father was wrong. It wasn’t until he started to beat her up though that she decided to leave. I never remembered that.

I was in heavy training, and just getting started with a team doing field jobs. Nothing major to start out with, but I was still pretty involved in everything. My father said Mom was sick one day. I guess that’s when he cracked her jaw. That afternoon I was out on my first solo assignment, six weeks early. A few months after that Mom left. I’m happy for her now.

After she testified and entered Witness Protection, she finished high school and then went on to University. She met Maria there. The two had just about the same course load the first year and they became fast friends inspite of the age difference. Four years later, they both graduated with their B.Sc., Maria in Biology, Mom in Micro-biology. Since then she’d gotten a job in a research facility, bought this house with Maria and started a career. And then, to quote my mother properly: "You came along, messed everything up and made life interesting again." She had a huge grin on her face as she said that. I guess I know where I inherited my sense of humor.

***

Samantha Kelly reached up and grabbed a bowl out of the cupboard. "Maria, You shouldn’t tell her. She’s not ready. She’s been brainwashed by her father into believing things you wouldn’t even think possible. I simply think you should wait."

The smaller Hispanic woman looked at her friend and gave her what Sammy had come to think of as The Look. She looked like that when she was Seeing things. Maria was what some people would call fortune teller. She considered herself a precognitive telepath. But it all boiled down to the fact that she saw things that others didn’t and sometimes, she could help things along. Now, was one of them.

"Sammy, your daughter has changed a lot since she left the cult. I think she deserves to know that her mother’s roommate is a mutant. Besides, this will give her an opportunity to see a mutant that hasn’t been colored by a previous experience. And don’t eat all the Frosted Flakes."

"What if she freaks out?" Sammy shook out a bowl of Mini-wheat’s instead of her roomie's favorite. Pouring milk over it she started to shovel the cereal into her mouth.

"Sammy, you sound like your daughter. I think she had the same concern when she told you about the cult hunting her. It didn’t freak you out and this won’t freak her out."

"It did freak me out, I just didn’t let her know it. And I still think you know more than you’re telling me, Maria." Sammy placed the mostly full bowl on to the counter beside her, and went to the fridge to get a glass of juice.

"Of course I do. I need to keep things interesting around here. And I don’t See everything, but I do get glimpses and I know I have to act on this one."

"Fine, I bow to your superior knowledge." She paused once she had the glass full and looked at Maria. "I don’t know how you do it."

"I learned to live with knowing things ahead of time a while ago."

"Not that, I was there while you where learning how to cope, remember? I was referring to skipping breakfast. I don’t eat in the morning, and I pass out by 10."

"I eat in the morning, I just don’t eat first thing. Any way, trust me, everything will work out fine."

***

"I hope I’m not interrupting anything?" I didn’t want to step on any toes the second day I was there, and it looked like they were in the middle of a conversation as I entered the kitchen.

"Oh nothing much." Maria was leaning up against the counter, Mom was sitting at the table, eating some mini-wheat's. "What do you want for breakfast. If you’re anything like your Mom, you’ll be starving by now."

"Since it was my stomach that dragged me out of bed, I’ll take whatever you got."

"Yup, you are definitely your mother’s daughter. Well dig around and take what you want. But if you take the last of the Frosted Flakes, I will be forced to kill you." Nice to know Maria shared my mom’s sense of humor as well.

Heading over to the fridge, I pulled out a jug of milk, poured a glass and then rummaged through the various cereals, looking for something edible.

"How’d you sleep last night?" Mom asked, still spooning up the last of her breakfast.

"Fine." Yup, we are definitely not very talkative this morning. I’m not a morning person.

"Any nightmares?" That came from Maria. I stared at her for a few minutes then turned around to the cupboard. I guess Mom had a talk with her this morning. I don’t mind, but it’s something I expected to hear from Xaviar, not my mom’s roommate. I had a moment to think on that as I poured out a bowl of Fruit Loops. Actually, I hadn’t had any dreams. Hearing a thunk in the background I turned back around and saw Maria was rubbing her arm.

"Sorry, I’m too nosy for my own good."

"That’s okay. You know, I didn’t have any. It’s been a while since I haven’t." Popping some dry little loops in my mouth, I took a swallow of milk to wash it down. I think most sweet cereals taste better without milk.

"That’s good. I think you should know I’m a mutant though." Well, that caught me by surprise. I ended up spewing milk and masticated bits of cereal all over the kitchen floor. It fanned out really nice. Unfortunately, I’d also tried to breath at the same time as well, so I spent the next ten minutes trying to hack out a lung. Mom pounded on my back, while tearing into Maria about her lousy sense of timing.

By the time I could breath, I was getting over the bluntness of the statement.

"Maria, you certainly have a way of saying things." And now I didn’t have to worry about my mom still being of anti-mutant sentiments. It was a load off my mind. I’d had visions at the onset of the bus trip of my mom dragging me to FOH meetings. "Since there seems to be an out pouring of truths here, I might as well admit, I’m one too." By the time I’d said this, my mom started to drink her juice and ended up spraying that all across the room as well. I think I did better but she got points since she wasn’t choking afterwards. By the time she could talk she was glaring dagger’s at Maria.

"You knew didn’t you." Maria looked like innocence itself.

"I suspected something like this, but I wasn’t positive." Maria headed over to the pantry, took out a mop, and started to clean up the mess on the floor. "Well, this has certainly turned into an eventful weekend. But the next time, you two can clean up the mess." She dunked the mop in a bucket of water she had hidden in the cupboard and preceded to mop up the mess. I went over to the sink and got a sponge for the table.

"Maria, what kind of mutant are you?" I have to admit, I was starting to get curious. Most people aren’t too open with admitting they’re mutants and I could still be considered a bit of an unknown. I didn’t think she was a telepath, because, now that I looked at her, she didn’t have that type of closely guarded face most telepaths develop as self defense. But it was also what made the most sense as far as why she thought she could tell me.

"I guess you could call me a precog."

"A what?"

At this point my mom stepped in. "Precog is short for precognitive. The closest it’s been described to me is as something like a telepath, except you pick up on future thoughts instead of current thoughts."

"Close, but no cigar." Maria’s eyes lit up as she started to describe what was obviously dear to her heart. "I pick up images that look a bit like memories, except they haven’t happened yet. There are images, but also feelings and thoughts mixed in. It’s close to a telepath, but I couldn’t read another person’s mind if I wanted to. If you don’t mind me asking, and since you already asked me I’ll assume you don’t mind, what kind of mutant are you?"

"I don’t really know. I have a really heavy mental shield that prevents a person from registering me on the conscious level." I’d been around Hank too much "Essentially, if I don’t want to be seen, I won’t be."

"Whoa, like Mrs. Reed? She basically turns invisible." I can’t believe I’m sitting here talking about mutants with my mom. This is not what I imagined would happen.

"Not really. I don’t turn invisible, I’m just not seen. It’s sort of like when you quickly glance around a room and don’t see everything, like a book on the table, that’s in plain site, but you don’t really notice it. It’s like that, except that I can control that and make a person not notice me. It doesn’t work with electronic surveillance, although if it’s something like Night vision goggles or a person holding a camcorder, I can manipulate it to a certain degree."

"Shesh, that makes me look like a parlor trick. Not that I mind. I like peace and quiet. Not to mention, I can play some wicked jokes on people. Oh well." Maria looked down at the now clean floor and over at the table that Mom and I cleaned up. "You know, I wasn’t really planning on doing anything interesting today. How about we go watch some videos. I have P&P on tape?"

My mom’s face lit up, but I had no idea what on earth P&P stood for.

"What’s P&P?"

"Sinful, do you honestly mean to tell me you’ve never heard of Pride and Prejudice? The classic tale by Jane Austin, masterfully reworked by the BBC as a timeless masterpiece for the small screen, brought to the Americas by the wonder and greatness of the A&E network? For shame." I still had no idea what my mom was talking about, and it was evident on my face. "We’re going to have to start your reeducation immediately." My mom grabbed one arm, Maria the other and they dragged me into the living room. Plunked down on the couch, Maria went over and popped the first tape of what looked like six?!?!?! cassettes. What in heaven’s name have I gotten myself into. I couldn’t sit still through all of Dances With Wolves when Rogue made me watch it and it only had two tapes.

***

O’Malley went up to the hotel everyone was staying in. It was in Wichita, the last place they’d been able to track Mike Segouin, the man they’d managed to identify as Charity’s attacker in Cedar Rapids. At least last place till now. Entering the room he shared with Karst, he passed the report over to Daren, the report he’d just received from the local police. They were nice enough to pass on the report, considering he was way out of his jurisdiction. It identified one Mike Segouin and five unknowns from an FBI surveillance photo’s taken yesterday in Spokane. It had been posted cause Mike had an outstanding warrant in Iowa and Ryan knew one of the clerks her from the conference he’d gone to. All that really mattered was that they finally knew where Mike was. And those up yours X-Men hadn’t found him. They had tried to leave the two detectives behind in Cedar Rapids when Charity had been found, but let’s just say they didn’t succeed too well. Empathy made it real easy to anticipate things.

Heading next door, he passed it over and watched as color drained from the woman’s face. After a few minutes of being as annoying as heck, they finally admitted that Charity’s mother lived in Spokane.

***

Ump-teen dozen hours later, my butt was so numb I couldn’t feel it any more, the entire day was almost gone, but I’d thoroughly enjoyed myself. Mr. Darcy was Hot! Between cassettes, we got up, got some popcorn and once some sandwiches, had the mandatory biffy breaks, but then went right back to the engaging tale of the 5 sisters and their exploits. I didn’t think a person could sit so long and not develop bed sores, but we did it. I think I liked it so much because no one got shot. I’m fast becoming a pacifist.

Mom and Maria had fallen into an argument over the merits of the two Emmas, of which I had no idea what they were talking about, but they were enjoying themselves so I didn’t interfere. Getting up, I went over to the VCR, popped out the last tape and placed it on the pile that the rest of them ended up on. Looking out the window, it was already dusk. It must be later than I thought. Wandering back to the sofa I was going to try and get those two to tell me what all the fuss was about, when I heard something. I think it was something, but it was hard to tell. I went on full alert and tried to shush Mom and Maria. Once they looked at me they knew something was up.

It almost sounded like an opening window, but we were all downstairs. I faded out and went exploring, leaving Mom and Maria in the living room. In the background I could hear the faint conversation between them.

"What’s wrong?

"I don’t know, but if anyone can find out, Charity can. Say what you will, the cult could teach a person how to hunt."

"What should we do?"

"Nothing for now, pretend nothing’s wrong and hope it’s a branch scrapping at a window."

That meant Mom had heard it too and I wondered how much training my father gave her before she left. I edged over to the wall, wishing I had my pack with me. It was upstairs in Maria’s study and to be honest it wouldn’t do me all that much good. I guess it was a security blanket thing. By now, I was at the foot of the stairs leading up to the second story. Making a quick detour I went into the kitchen and picked up the large veggie knife Maria kept for cutting onions. It was quite sharp and should at the very least be intimidating. At most, it had the best balance of the other knives I’d found. Back at the stairs, I started up and poked my head around the corners. Not seeing anything, I started checking out the rooms. I could feel the adrenaline in my veins; my heart pounding heavy, but not to fast.

Mom’s room was clean, so was Maria’s. That left the bathroom behind me and the study at the end of the hall. The study door was closed. It was open when I’d first peaked around the corner. Bingo. The study was a fairly large room, with book shelves lining the wall nearest me and a desk under the window. My bedding was spread out with the pillow near the window and my stuff stacked up behind the door. It should be rather crowded in there for a burglar. I didn’t even want to contemplate what would happen if it was someone besides a burglar.

The door started to open and a figure in black stepped out. I hadn’t turned on any lights when I came up, not wanting to broadcast my presence, so the figure was rather vague. But the goggles on the top of his head weren’t. They weren’t night vision, looking more like heat sensors. Oh Shit. Burglars don’t usually have such equipment. His back was looking into the room he’d just stepped out of, so I took the opportunity to creep up on him. I was hoping to knock him out before the large semi automatic rifle, complete with a silencer, was pointed in my direction. I heard a short scream downstairs first. Two or more groups, two in each group if they haven’t changed the rules since I left.

The figure snapped around and pointed the rifle at my mid section and his finger tightened on the trigger. I guess I show up as a heat source then. Diving forward and twisting as I fell, I heard the faint whine as the bullets whizzed over me. Now on my back, only a foot from my attacker, my hand flashed up, the knife still in it and went between his legs, cutting into the back of his thigh. Rolling back, my legs followed an instant later, hitting him in the chest, driving him onto his back. Completing the maneuver, I pushed up with my arms and landed facing the wrong direction. Quickly spinning in my attacker’s direction, I watched blood pool from around his leg. He wasn’t bleeding bad, but I hope I got his hamstring. Kicking the rifle out of his reach, I then dropped to the ground as I heard a sound behind me.

His partner’s rifle was up at her shoulder, trained on me as I pushed myself into the doorway right beside me. I was in Maria’s room, slipping right beside the door, I waited for the other attacker to follow me in. They weren’t very trigger happy, so I’m hoping she won’t riddle the room with gun fire, to try and get me that way. It was messy but effective, if death was the goal. I didn’t think it was and that scared me more. Reaching blindly to the dresser beside me I grabbed the first thing that came to hand, plastic hair brush with not to bad a heft.

Gripping it by the neck, bristles pointing forward, I had a chance for one breath before the partially opened door was nudged all the way open and followed by the woman in black. The rifle was now slung over her shoulder from the strap and a hand gun replaced it. In her left hand was a short, wicked edged knife; the light from the window gleaming off it. My hand snapped forward, slamming the brush up under her jaw, forcing her head back. This was followed by my left fist that hit her right in the edge of the jaw. She was out like a light. Ripping the goggles off the now prone figure, I saw it was Alice. She always did have a glass jaw. What little hopes I had that it wasn’t the cult was immediately banished.

Stripping the body, I fitted the goggles on my head, adjusting the focus and staring out at the blurry red on black world around me. It’s been a while since I’d used them, but all the little tricks and quirks quickly resettled into my head. Barely a few minutes had passed since I heard the yelp from downstairs. Stepping out the door, I was just missed by a bullet whining by my legs. So the other guy hadn’t passed out yet. And I forget to get his hand gun as well. I’m gonna get killed if I keep this up. Back in the door way, I paused for a second before I leapt through and slammed into the wall on the other side of the hall. Immediately flipping the knife I’d taken off of Alice, I sent it flying in his direction and into the guy’s other leg. A muffled groan was my reward.

Adrenaline still pumping through me, I walked forward and started to strip the gear off the moaning figure. By now he was pretty much out of the fight. Taking the goggles off his face, in the dim darkness I could make out that it was Mark, a close friend of Jason’s. My heart was starting to beat triple time as I realized Mike must have gathered all my old friends for this. It wasn’t damn-well fair. I didn’t want to hurt them, but I had too.

Taking the gear I’d accumulated, I dumped it off in the study and picked up the kitchen knife that was lying on the floor. Hooking Mark’s sheath on my belt, I adjusted the knife so that I could role if I had too. I left Alice’s knife in Mark’s leg. He wouldn’t bleed as much like that and he’d have a better chance of not destroying the nerves in his leg. Aside from the damage done to the other. Heading back into Maria’s bedroom, I tied up the still unconscious Alice then headed down the stairs, cautiously moving forward, watching the fuzzy red shapes imposed on the dim background. All the lights in the house were out and I assumed they’d cut all the power, as well as the phones. Three people where in the living room aside from two still forms on the couch, I was hoping against hope were still alive.

I had to guess that they knew I was coming and I was right when I heard a voice call out to me.

"Charity Girl, I know you’re there. Come out and I won’t kill your mom’s bitch of a girlfriend." Yea right. There’s a promise Mike would keep. "We don’t want to kill you. Yet. Just need to ask you a few questions. And you might want to hurry, your mom’s starting to bleed rather bad."

Trying to figure out how to take down the three attackers with out killing them wasn’t successful. I could kill them all and me in the process, but that’s about it. If I got them to split up, chances of survival went up all around. I tried not to think of Mike’s quip about my mom.

Retreating back up the stairs, I picked up the rifle from the study and checked to see if Mark was still breathing. He’d passed out by now, but otherwise, didn’t seem too bad. Considering.

Sweat trickled down my back while old memories came to haunt me. I gripped the rifle; the gun held snug against my waist. Not the best way to fire, but the easiest way to cover and not too slow to bring it up to my shoulder. And a rifle was much more accurate then a handgun; more cumbersome, but more accurate. Less than five minutes had passed since I first heard the noise upstairs.

***

Maria looked at the people around her. It was hard to tell what exactly was going on, cause all the lights had gone out a while ago. At least it felt like a while ago. Just after Charity had gone up stairs, the lights had gone out and Sammy had headed to the front door. Pulling out the baseball bat they kept there for the softball games at work, Sammy twirled it around a few times and looked ready to beat somebody’s head off.

As she climbed the few stairs back into the living room, three men in black outfits rushed in, one through the front door and two out of the hallway from the kitchen. Maria let out a quick yelp, but Sammy twisted around and got the one behind her in the face. There was a wet crunch, but the guy kept coming anyway. She hadn’t got full power behind the swing. Of the two from the kitchen, one grabbed Maria and the other pulled out a hand gun and shot Sammy in the leg. The shot made no more sound than a whisper in the chaos.

Sammy tumbled and fell into the man behind her making sure she bashed her head into his face. He just grabbed her and pulled her up the stairs, manhandling her over to the couch. The man holding Maria, pushed her in the same direction and when she got to the couch, she tried to look closely at the hole in Sammy’s leg.

There was enough light filtering in from the street lamp outside to see the wound. Pulling off her belt and wadding up the tea towel that was used to mop up some spilled pop earlier in the evening, Maria placed the pad over the bleeding hole, the bullet not having passed through, and synched the belt in place over the mess. Sammy winced but didn’t say anything. The men started to wander around, goggles over eyes, rifles in hands.

One headed into the kitchen; the other checked the downstairs bath room. After they came back, they had a whispered conference and then waited; the one who shot Sammy apparently in change. Hearing a muffled thump from upstairs testified to there being more then the three they could see.

A minute later, the leader called out, taunting Charity to show herself. Apparently the goggles they wore, helped them to see her. Silence greeted his jib and for the next few minutes, nothing happened giving Maria a chance to think. She knew she wasn’t going to die. She was pretty sure Sammy wasn’t going to die. Charity was not going to die. A long hospital stay was another thing all together. Straining her senses, Maria tried to reach out and See what was going to happen. This rarely worked but it was worth a try. A glimpse of red and the present darkness was all she Saw.

***

Heading back down the stairs, I at the bottom. I didn’t have much in the way of maneuvering space down here, but I had to do something. Once in the kitchen, I turned on the hot water tap, watching the billows of steam as a red cloud floating to the ceiling. Next were all four burners on the gas stove and the oven as well. That should provide a good distraction if not cover. I’d have cranked the thermostat, but the house has electric heating. Opening the drawers, I pulled out anything that might come in handy and waited for Mikes reaction.

Sure enough, from my position sitting on the counter, behind a billow of hot air from the stove, I watched the entrance by the glow of the yellow tipped flames of the stove. A head popped up around the corner. Not seeing anything with the accumulation of hot air floating to the ceiling, he cautiously entered the room, rifle up near his shoulder, ready to take out what ever he was after.

I have no compunction about ambushing someone if it saves my butt. Putting my stolen rifle to my shoulder, hands shaking, I aimed carefully at his shoulder and fired off a round. It connected, spinning the shadow around, dropping him to the floor. Immediately following my shot, I heard an answering whine as I felt a tug at my sleeve. The other guy must have taken off his goggles and seen me, I guess I wasn’t faded out any more. Leaning back, I rolled off the counter and onto the floor, faded out and scampering over to the table, angry smacks raining down around me as the guy fired off a few shots blind. In the dark under the table, the figure I could barely make out in the door way had totally lost me. Avoiding the inert form of the man I’d shot, I crept forward until I was with in striking distance of the other guy.

I aimed a kick at the guy’s groin; if it works, don’t knock it. He drooped like a rock, hitting the floor moaning. Taping him up with the role of duct tape from a kitchen drawer, I stripped off his knife and anything else he might find useful. It was Rick MacMasters, Alice’s boyfriend, his nose was already swollen and looked broken. I guess I wasn’t the only busy one. Quickly checking over the other guy, I found it was Terry. Half his shoulder missing, and he was in shock. Wasn’t much I could do for him, now. All that left was Mike.

The two minutes of the fight had given a chance for the temperature in the room to rise considerably. Pulling down the goggle, I couldn’t see all that much now, however, the ground was cooler and if I crawled I’d see more. But while the heat clouds were billowing out of the room it would be a while before they made the goggles entirely useless. Easing my head out of the doorway out of the kitchen I stared down the hall, into what I could see of the living room. It wasn’t much. Leaving the rifle behind, I moved forward, trying to see what was in the living room, with out much luck. Turning back to the kitchen, I had an idea pop into my head.

I grabbed a large hot water bottle out of the cupboard with all the Band-Aids and such and filled it up with water from the steaming tap. I grabbed a knife off the pile on the table and headed back down the hall. It was now, or wait to be rescued. I’m not much for playing Damsel in Distress. Standing a bit back, I swung the water bottle a few times, getting the momentum going then let in fly in an arc into the living room, following it a few feet behind. An angry splat was heard as the bottle burst from the bullet that found it and I loosed the knife I was holding at the figure holding the hand gun. Then I was in Mike’s face.

The knife I threw scrapped along his side, glancing off. Damn, body armor. I kicked around, hitting the arm extended with the gun. He managed to hold on to it, but it swung wide and the bullet he fired rammed through the bay window. Following my action through, my right fist found his nose crunching cartilage and my left back handed him on the side of his head. He quickly recovered with his left hitting me in the stomach, leaving me gasping for air and his right coming in to smash my skull with the grip of the pistol. My arm shot up, blocking him while landing an upper cut under his jaw. Again his gun hand swept in and this time I grabbed it, twisting his wrist, trying to force him to drop the weapon. It’s been a while since I fought like this, and I forgot about my left hand. It wasn’t as strong as it used to be, and two fingers had a fair amount of nerve damage. He wrenched out of my grasp, pushed the gun into my leg and fired.

My leg immediately gave way and I half expected a bullet to follow, into my head. Instead, I lay on the floor trying not to pass out, feeling bone scraping every time I barely moved, curled up in a ball around my wounded leg. Mike started talking instead.

"Why’d you do it Chaz? Why’d you run? It only delayed the inevitable. You knew we’d find you. It was only a mater of time. You’d already be dead, the house blown to bits if Arlington didn’t want you brought back. You and your bitch mother."

While he was talking, I eased the knife I had in my belt out of it’s sheath. He was wearing a bullet proof vest, but that only covered front and back. There was an inch or so where a knife could sneak in and take him out. If I ever got the chance.

There was a noise from the back of the house. What the hell? I tied those guys up good, out of it or not. Then there was a sudden explosion in the hallway. Mike turned, his hand up to rip off the goggles he still wore, the sudden flare of heat nearly blinding him. I pushed myself up, slipping the knife in between the two plates of Kevlar, grating it through his ribs and deep into the side of his chest. I fell back down, my leg screaming agony and the knife still in my hand, covered with the blood that was pouring out of Mike as he too fell to the floor. I managed to crawl over to him and eased the goggles off his face.

"Why’d you run Chaz, why’d you change, Jason and you." He was whispering still. His voice getting softer and softer as his life ran out, soaked up by the plush beneath him. In the dim light from outside, a draft coming in from the partially shattered window, I looked at the face of a man I knew very well. There had been the seven of us. Jason, Mike, me, Alice, Terry, Rick, and Mark. We’d trained together and were one of the best teams the cult had put together. Jason was dead, Mike dying. This never should have happened. We should have met in College, not a cult.

I barely noticed what was going on around me. Not until a hand was on my shoulder. I slowly moved my head to look in the face of Scott. His visor gleaming oddly in the reflected light, the rest of his face, was blurred by the tears streaming down my face.

"Are you okay?" His voice thickened with concern. I don’t think he was asking about my leg.

"It’s Mike. He’s dying. I tried not to, but I must have gotten higher than I thought. I didn’t want him to die." It all came out in a whisper, as I looked back at the now empty eyes of what was once a good friend.

"Come on, there’s nothing you can do." He eased a hand under my arm and tried to give me a hand up. My head was starting to spin even worse now and my leg felt like it was on fire with sharp pain radiating from my thigh. Puling my good leg up I tried to rise, but the movement was too much and all I could see were colored lights exploding in my head. As the pain went from sharp to excruciating, I gave in to the darkness that wanted to claim me.

***

I came to back on the Blackbird after they pumped me full of painkillers and who knew what else. I was still pretty out of it, but I watched the bustle around me. My throat was so dry I felt like I’d been walking in a desert and I could still feel my leg throbbing, but I figured I’d live. Mom was in a bed across from me, sitting up awake, watching Jean put a dressing on the hole in her leg. Same leg as mine. May be it was the drugs, but the thought struck me as funny. I tried to laugh but it came out more as a groan. Instantly someone came to my side. It took a few moments for my eyes to focus on Remy. His face dark, and concerned.

I managed to croak out that I was fine and gratefully sipped at the water he brought anyway.

"The others?" My voice was a little clearer now, but still soft.

"Y’mom be okay, jus’ a big nick. Maria, she be fine too, so’s ev’rybody else."

I shook my head, that’s not who I meant. I asked the same thing again. Remy clued in and waved Scott over.

"How are they?" I needed to know who else I’d killed.

"Mike died." His voice was flat. "The other’s are in custody at the hospital. Your friend Ryan came along for the ride and sorted things out with the police." Just the one then. Only one face added to the mob already there. The other’s would live. I wracked my brain for the name Ryan though. My head was still fuzzy and there was only room for a few thoughts. I finally placed the name and then blushed.