Series: First in the Breadcrumbs Series
Disclaimer: I own the rednecks, but everyone else is Marvel's, Fox's, etc.
Archive Rights: WRFA, XMMFFC, DDFH, and the Med Lab. Otherwise, just ask.
Author's Notes: I've started this series for several reasons, but mostly because of my uncooperative muses. My Jane and Eddie muses are just depressing the heck out of me. My Kate and Leopold muses are mumbling something about disease outbreaks and gunshot wounds and time paradoxes, but they aren't making much sense. I was forced to turn to my increasingly masochistic Logan and Rogue muses for comfort.
Author Warning: Unfortunately, it is extremely unlikely that this series will ever be completed.
Summary: Rogue finds a clue to Logan's location.
What? Oh, this knife?
You bet it's good. I use it for huntin', and I swear, it'll cut through anything. Never needs sharpening either.
Yeah, just like one of them ginsu knives, but I didn't get this offa no infomercial. Lemme show ya.
See? Right through the bar, clean and easy as slicing through butter, and just look at that blade. Not even a scratch.
No way. Far as I know there're only six of these in existence.
Nope, and my buddies won't sell theirs either.
Well, do you remember when those muties destroyed the Statue of Liberty?
That's them, damn mutie scum. Anyway, I knew one of 'em.
Hell no! Wasn't no friend of mine. He'd just stop in every few months to join in the fights.
Yep. And you can bet no one knew he was a mutie, either. We may like fightin', girlie, but we ain't stupid. No one's gonna get in a cage with a dirty mutie.
We recognized him from that security camera footage of the Statue of Liberty attack. You know how it showed them muties' faces when they walked through the metal detector? The one with the claws was our guy.
Nope, never used 'em in the cage, but he coulda. He coulda killed any of us at any time.
You know it. And the claws weren't all there was to his mutation. When he fought, most of his challengers got an up close and personal look at his fists, if you know what I mean, and none of them ever saw any sign of no claws.
Some people might agree with you, but you've also gotta consider the fact that he never lost a match. He could go all night in the cage and no matter what anyone did to him, he'd just stand up ready for more. That scum could heal himself. We shoulda caught on, but he only stayed a few nights at a time and only showed up every coupla months.
This is a bar, girlie. They were drunk.
Not me, but someone hasta watch the bar.
Him? It was luck more'n anything. Not two hours after we watch CNN and find out the Wolverine's a mutie, who do you suppose walks through that door?
You guessed it. Either he'd been on the road and hadn't seen the reports, or he thought we were too stupid 'r drunk to recognize his ugly mug.
Hell, maybe if he'd picked some other bar at some other time, sister, but three days after he and his buddies destroy one of our country's most famous symbols of freedom and independence? No way. No one woulda let me turn the channel offa CNN even if I'd wanted to.
That chicken-livered senator? Yeah, I saw his statement, too. 'I was wrong. Be nice to muties.' After what they did to us? He musta been smoking something. They'd just proved that everything he'd been saying was right and he decides to back off? I was even gonna vote for him, but there's no way now.
What? Oh yeah, the Wolverine. So anyway, he shows up like he ain't got no clue he's public enemy number one. He just strolls in, strips off his shirts and steps into the cage like it's any other night. No way. I recognized him right off, and I know Sam and Bruno did, too.
Oh, Sam does the MCing in the cage, and Bruno was the king of the cage that night. Anyway, they looked at each other and then they looked at me, and both of 'em left the cage.
No, I don't think so, at least not right then. There were so many people yelling and moving around, and Sam covered for Bruno. He said the kid was taking a break and the Wolverine was ready for all comers.
It's not unusual for the Wolverine. I've seen people back down when he enters the cage.
Hey, Sam didn't haveta keep up the illusion for more'n a minute or two anyway. Just long enough for me to wade through the crowd up to the cage.
Look at me, lady. Of course, I couldn't take him on. A mutie with claws and a way to heal himself? I didn't go up there to fight 'em. I went to stop him.
I keep a shotgun behind the counter, and I'd cocked it as soon as I took it out. Didn't want the mutie getting a jump on me before I could shoot. Still, as soon as I got to the cage door and lifted my gun, he moved. In the past, he's always just stood with his back to the door waiting for the challenger to make the first move, but this time something must've given me away.
No. There's no way I could've totally missed at such a close range with a shotgun, but the shot didn't take him down like I wanted. Got him in the arm and side, but he just stood up and released the claws on his good hand with a growl. I tell ya, it was like staring down a wounded grizzly. You know how they say animals get meaner when they're cornered and hurt? It was just like that. I barely had time to fire again before he got to me.
Yeah, that's the shot that got him, took him down hard. I got him in the face, neck, and chest. He was bleeding like a stuck pig all over the floor of the cage.
Didn't kill him. He's a mutie, remember? Hardly anything'll bring them down for good. He sure had a hard time breathing, though, what with his neck tore open and his jaw dislocated. Hey, you sure you wanna hear this? I mean, I know you said you hated muties, but what we did to him...
Ok, as long as your sure. Where was I?
I got it. I got it. So, I'd just shot him, right? That's when we found out the Wolverine wasn't just a mutie. He was some sort of cyborg.
Seriously, there was metal under his skin, where his bones shoulda been. You could especially see it through the wounds on his skull and ribs, freshly polished metal, just like his claws. A lot of people ran out when they heard the shots and saw the blood, but some people stayed.
Me, Sam, Bruno, and a some of the regulars who'd fought the Wolverine. They wanted to pay him back for cheating in the cage and stealing their money. That, and for what he did to our country, of course.
Started with a beating, but no one could break his bones. I mean it, we tried, but they must've all been covered with that metal. After that, stabbed him a few times.
Oh, you know with the ice pick or some broken bottles. Jake had his gun, but after one shot ricocheted off the metal bones back into his own leg, he stopped. Bruno had to drive the idiot to the hospital.
The claws? That was my idea.
Jack? That damned liar. It was his idea to pull the Wolverine's teeth out, what little hadn't already come out 'cause of the shotgun blast or the beating.
That's what I told him. I said we should pull out the claws instead 'cause they'd make good souvenirs and that way, if he woke up before we could get rid of him, he couldn't claw us up.
No, I mean, we planned to turn him over to the feds. You know about that reward they were offering? We each got a piece of that.
They didn't care. It wasn't like we killed him or anything, and we did have to 'subdue the prisoner' before they arrived.
How? I have a paring knife for the lemons and limes I use in drinks, so I used that. One of the other guys had a swiss army knife. I know at least one guy used a broken beer bottle. You'd think that the Wolverine wouldn't cause us much trouble what with him lying on the floor bleeding, but the first cut into his arm got him screaming and thrashing around.
You're damn right he tried to use the claws on us. We were lucky we'd pinned him down first.
Yeah, one guy was sitting on each of his arms and another two guys were sitting on his legs. Still, he was putting up too much of a fight so Jack cut his throat.
It'd healed from the buckshot enough so he could scream, but after Jack sawed it through again, he was too busy drowning and bleeding to fight us much.
Wasn't as easy as that. Once we'd gotten down to the claws, we had to be careful not to cut ourselves getting 'em out. Matt had to go out to his truck and get his tools. Took pliers and a lot of cutting before we even got one out.
Yep, this hunting knife's one of them claws. We had 'em made special for each of us.
Sure you can see it, sweetheart, just be careful. It's awfully sharp.
Hey, what are you doing?
I don't know, I swear. They just took him away.
They... didn't tell... me anything.
Ahhhh! There... was CDC... on their van. I swear... I didn't see... anything else.
The young woman with hate filled eyes and white streaked hair wiped the bloody knife off on a dirty bar towel before opening her leather satchel. Carefully, she slid the huge weapon into the bag, next to its five, clearly visible brothers, then turned and faced the few shocked people in the bar this late at night.
"He was right," she said, cocking her head at the corpse sprawled on the ground. "It does cut through anything."