X-Calibre Trilogy: Long Hard Road Out of Hell

To his credit, Nightcrawler got us to the safe house without incident. The journey took a few hours, but I’m not complaining. Incident free, teleport free, hassle free. He moved quickly and with an almost feline grace. There were a few times when he clung to the walls of the buildings, creeping across them like a spider as though gravity were non-existent to take better advantage of the shadows. That was a bit unnerving, that he could just seemingly disappear like that. There had been several times that the only way I’d seen him at all had been by his eyes . . .

“Yes? Who is it?” an old woman’s voice called through the oak door.

“Abby Fretle,tle,replreplied, giving the code for the seeking of refuge. I heard the bolts slide open and a moment later Mama Abigail had the door open.

“Come on in, child, and tell me what has you calling so late,” she stepped aside to let us pass.

“Thank you, Mama,” I murmured, gesturing to Nightcrawler. He silently flipped over and through the door from his position above it to land beside me in the living room. “Everyone else is asleep?” I asked softly, noticing the lack of people.

“God willing, they are. It’s early morning, isn’t it?”

“Yes . . .” I peered at the clock on the mantle. “Almost three o’ clock. Are you still having trouble sleeping?”

“Now don’t you worry about an old woman’s crazy hours,” she was re-locking the door with agile fingers. “You sit down by that fire and introduce me to your friend and tell me how you’re at my door all hours of the night.”

I noticed Nightcrawler’s momentary surprise that Mama Abigail seemed unfazed by his appearance, then his understanding when he realized she was blind. He crouched in front of the fire, warming his hands. I sat next to Mama on the couch.

“Mama Abigail, this is Nightcrawler. Nightcrawler, this is Mama Abigail. She’s in charge of this stop on the Underground.”

“Thank you for your hospitality.” Nightcrawler had turned to face her.

“We do what we can,” Mama replied amiably. “Are you hungry, Nightcrawler? Miriam?”

“I’m fine, Mama. Thank you,” I smiled a little bit. My “friend” said that it had been a while since his last proper meal and that he’d appreciate a bite to eat. We followed Mama into the kitchen where she heated up a plate of brisket and mashed potatoes, and ladled out some soup that was still on low heat on the stove. As Nightcrawler ate I told Mama about the night’s events. When I was done Mama turned in her chair to face him.

“That’s quite a trick, to travel in such a way. How do you do it?”

“I look to someplace else I’d rather be and make my self go there.” He speared another chunk of brisket, chewed, and swallowed before continuing. “Beyond that, I really can’t say.” He washed the brisket down with some of the water Mama had set before him. “I mentioned briefly to Miriam that I am human, but mutated. I am not the same as other people.”

“What caused your mutation, if you don’t mind my asking?” Mama’s voice was gentle.

Nightcrawler seemed to be considering the question. “Genetics. My parents are both Mutants as well, able to do things other humans can’t. Their parents were probably Mutants too. Anyhow, where I am from Mutancy is caused by the activation of a chromosome on the DNA strand that is normally dormant. It activates for us when puberty hits, and remains with us for life. Most of us are lucky and develop some kind of special ability.”

“And the rest of you?” I asked, eyes wide with curiosity.

“The rest of us just get the angry end of the ugly stick.”

I blinked a few times, not quite knowing what to say. I knew what I wanted to say, but that was rude.

“And for the record, I was born looking this way,” he smirked and speared another slice of brisket.

I blushed. Not that Mama could see it, but I think she knew.

After dinner Mama showed Nightcrawler to the washroom so he could shower and make himself more comfortable. While he was thus indisposed she asked me to describe him to her to know what reaction others could be expected to have to him. I was both as honest and as charitable as I could be, and Mama understood – everyone would freak out at seeing a demon boarding with them until the next guide for the Underground came along.

“Well, it seems we’ll have to keep you two separated from the others,” Mama responded calmly. “There is a small room in the attic that you can use.”

Small actually meant tiny. It was a closet with a narrow bed in it – no windows, no other furniture except for a crude table large enough to hold an oil lamp. It was meant to give hidden shelter, and only that.

“This is it?” Nightcrawler grimaced as he took in our lodgings.

“Yes, this is it,” I sighed, pulling my damp hair into a loose ponytail. “Full house tonight, and you don’t seem to like crowds anyway.”

He made a noise of assent and commented on the space at our disposal.

“So we have to share the bed,” I shrugged, trying to feel non-challant about it. “Big deal, or are you scared of cooties?”

“I thought,” he stood behind me, close enough for me to feel his warmth, “perhaps you would be scared of me.”

I turned around; there was barely enough room because he was so close to me. “If you were going to try something you would have by now. I trust you to keep your hands to yourself.”

“Vielen danke, Fraulein [Many thanks, miss],” he smiled at me and laid down.

I turned back around and tried to keep calm. He had me pegged pretty well; he did make me quite nervous. Seemed reasonable to me though – here I was sleeping with a stranger who’d killed two men as though it meant nothing and threatened to do the same with me if I didn’t help him get to freedom. Who in their right mind wouldn’t harbor reservations about their situation??

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I awoke the next morning to an empty bed. I reached over to light the lamp when I felt something like a warm velvet rope wrap around my arm – Nightcrawler’s tail.

“Nein [No]!” he whispered.

I put the matches down, quietly rose from the bed, and stood behind him. “What is it?” I breathed.

“Nazis. Get dressed; we’re going.” He slowly drew his swords, the slight metallic scrape giving his action away in the profound silence of our room.

As I threw on my clothes and slid into my shoes I heard two gunshots downstairs. I froze: had they killed Mama Abigail? A moment later someone was hurrying up the steps and pounding on our door.

“It’s Abigail. Come on out!” she called through the door.

“Get behind me,” he instructed and I obeyed, hugging the wall to the right of the door. He unlatched the door with his tail (that impressed me – I wondered from out of left field if he could wield a sword with that tail, too) and kept his weapons at the ready.

Mama was alone and looked worried. “We’ve got trouble, dears. The Nazis have come looking for you.”

I moved so that I could see Mama through the door, shaking slightly as I did so. How had they found us?

“Wundervoll [Wonderful],” Nightcrawler hissed, re-sheathing his weapons. “Are they dead?”

“Yes, they are. But there will be more. We need to get everyone out and to the next stop.”

We headed downstairs. The rest of the refugees were gathered in the living room, surrounding the two dead men bleeding into the carpet.

“I can’t believe you shot them!” one man exclaimed to a woman holding a handgun. “What were you thinking??”

“I was thinking that having these pigs catch us would not be good. They saw me – what was I supposed to do?” she spat back.

The man didn’t answer, as he had just gotten a glimpse of Nightcrawler and was too busy gaping. One by one the others turned to take a look. A few of the women gasped or gave a little shriek of fright. Nightcrawler ignored them all and I tried to do the same.

“Now listen up, children,” Mama spoke as though this were the most natural occurrence in the world. “We need to pull together to get through this. I need volunteers to dispose of the bodies. I need Miriam and Esther to come with me so I can tell you where to go next. And I need the rest of you to help clean this up before they come back.”

No one spoke or moved for a moment; finally Nightcrawler stepped into the middle of the group and crouched by the late officers. As he rummaged in their pockets for anything of potential value he asked Mama how she wanted them dealt with.

“Send them down river, dear. They’ll be out to sea before they know they’re missing.”

“Sehr gut [Very good],” he hefted one of the dead men over his shoulder and disappeared in a slight puff of brimstone-scented smoke. The group of dumbfounded people spoke quickly and with a lot of speculation on what exactly he was as they cleaned.

Esther and I went to the kitchen with Mama and she told us how to get to the next stop – a different route was needed for daytime travel – and what to expect on the way. But neither Esther nor I had much experience moving people during daylight hours and even working together we weren’t sure we could move a group this size with the constraints before us. Mama calmly suggested asking Nightcrawler when he was done with his end of things if he had such experience and, as it turned out, he had. Within the hour everything was ready to go and we set off. Nightcrawler took point and as before, we made it through unscathed – no mean feat for ten wanted people traveling together. Esther took over that evening, and the next night I was leading us on. So it went, with Nightcrawler bringing up the rear after that first day on the road. At last we made it to our destination: a suburban residence outside of Raleigh.