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Found 8 results

  1. May 7, 2012, 9:45 p.m. Ronald Reagan Building and International Trade Center April Wolcott and Scott Harrison were getting married. It was a gala affair that was the buzz of the Washington D.C. social circuit. April Wolcott was the daughter of the British Ambassador to the United States, Marcella Wolcott. Scott Harrison was the son of U.S. Senator Richard Harrison, a hardcore warhawk Republican from Florida. The social and political implications of the evening were a minefield. The Democratic President, Jonathan Henshall, needed Harrison’s support for a Medical and tax bill that had been a key point of his campaign. Harrison’s support for this sort of thing was grudging at best, but the promise that Henshall would protect Harrison’s pet weapons project in exchange for support made this alliance a possibility. For now, Henshall had to play nice and attend the wedding and reception. The International Trade Center, or ITC for short, was the site of the wedding and reception. The lavish wedding was to be held in the Atrium; its 125 foot tall skylight, marble and granite floor and bold columns created the perfect place for a wedding of power and prestige. The reception would be held in the Atrium Hall, while there would be dancing in the Ballroom. The guest list numbered in the hundreds; anyone who was anyone in the U.S. Capital had been invited – and would probably come. The riff-raff were not invited, and it was here that Mirage, Rebekka and May found themselves. They were clothed appropriately for their roles – Mirage and Rebekka were in the most fashionable dresses Mary could create. May was dressed nicely as well, but she was going to work the crowds outside – and provide a distraction should it be needed. It was a trial by fire- '[i Yesterday...']May 6, 2012 Home David grinned at the two women who had entered the room. May was already there, lounging in her ‘base’ form, a woman with black hair and green-blue eyes. While similar to Raven’s image, this woman appeared to be far more innocent and younger than Raven had been. “Sorona, Rebekka, thanks for coming.” “Tyrone hinted that you had plans for us. Something about… the President?” Rebekka asked this with a coy tone, but David didn’t seem to take it personally. The powerful mutant’s smile didn’t change as he waved the two women to a seat. “I do have plans. We need, more than anything else, information. Specifically, military codes for satellites. If we have those codes, we can use the United States’ satellites to monitor the DEHA.” David smiled thinly. “Sorona, I’d like you to help Rebekka determine who she needs to sleep with to get those codes. Rebekka, I think you understand by now what we need from you. May’s faces are known to DEHA until she develops another, so she’ll have to remain outside for now. She’ll be there in case things go wrong.” “There’s one more catch.” May didn’t act like it was a problem as she said, “We don’t have invitations to the wedding reception. It’s the only place to have this kind of public access to the people in the highest positions of power but we don’t have the pull to get you into the party. You’ll have to find your own way in.” -but somehow, it seemed more fun this way.
  2. May 7, 2012 Umatilla Military Correctional Facility Umatilla was something of a legend among conspiracy nuts. It was labeled as a military prison, but there didn’t seem to be many prisoners listed there. As just one example, there was a Tiffany Schmit listed among the prisoners. She’d been convicted of treason and the records were sealed. Her family had been trying to get her released for eight years, to no avail. It was cases like this – where people were imprisoned under secretive reasons, where the government was telling people, ‘Trust us, really’ – that made Umatilla so notorious. What made the conspiracy people drool was the fact that an inordinate amount of resources, men and space was dedicated to imprison less than twenty people. Of course, those were just the official prisoners. Located in the dry mountains of Eastern Oregon, it was highly inaccessible. It was off of Up Middle Fork Rd, but vehicles without at least of foot of clearance were not making it up the narrow path. Most people and supplies were flown in by helicopter, which was the most reliable way in and out. Walking or horseback might get you close, but unless you had a way over the Constantia-wire fences, you probably weren’t getting into the facility. Of course, the four people now approaching didn’t need horses. Between their own skills and the skills of their companions, the fences were not a big deal. They crossed the ‘Border Zone’ – the area between the fences and the facility proper – in no time. Now the prison, a squat brown building, was just in front of them. All of the attackers knew the facility. They’d all see the map recently. They may not have to even enter. The goal was get one of their own out, and he was planning on meeting them halfway. Yesterday... May 6, 2012 Home Grav – at least one of her personalities – Gold, Jeremy and Matt were all in the planning room when David entered. “Now that we’re all here,” Jack started, “I’d like to go over the plan. Then we’ll be asking if you’ll go along, help us out.” “It is completely voluntary.” David’s interjection was probably unnecessary, but he made it anyway. “All we’re asking of you to stay here is help with provisions, but this is above that. This is war and I’m not conscripting any mutant into the conflict. Go on, Jack. Sorry to interrupt.” “Not a problem. We have an operative named Randall who is currently imprisoned in the Umatilla Military Correctional Facility. It’s a prison for mutants and humans alike. Most of the humans there have been convicted of collaboration or treason regarding mutants. We have little idea as to the internal layout but we know that there are three wings: Alpha, Beta and Gamma. Alpha is high security and that’s where Russell has been kept. His mission is to retrieve another mutant codenamed Foresight and files of her precognitive predictions.” “She can actually see the future?” Jeremy looked intrigued. “According to DEHA files yes. Her abilities were fairly minor to start and affected only large scale events. But they are getting more and more precise, and it’s just a matter of time before she forecasts something about us.” David looked grim. “She’s a program baby, and we’re going to try to get her out of there and show her the world. Give her a wakeup call like we did Mary.” “She’s in Beta Wing, and Russell’s going to break out and head for her. His signal is that you guys will start blowing things up.” Jack picked up the details of the plan again. “He’s also going to get the recordings of her prognostications, if he can. But that’s secondary to getting her.” “Are we ready?” Matt looked at the three of them. “Just give the word and we’ll get this party started.”
  3. May 7, 2012 Staging Site in rural Tibet “Shit. Shit!” Jack’s cultured British voice wasn’t used often for profanity, but when it was, it had an impact. “What’s going on?” Tyrone asked, looking up from his surveillance of the phones. He was waiting for the calls for evacuation. “A mutant escaped yesterday from a German facility.” Jack looked up from the communication hub he was monitoring. At some point, DEHA was going to figure out that the mutants could peek into this emergency channel and they’d alter the protocols. Until then, it was a resource for them. “They’re setting a trap to catch her today. It looks like it might work –they’re using a nullifier to take her down.” “We already have missions going on.” Tyrone’s statement was delivered reluctantly. He was quiet, then scooped up the phone. “I’m going to go back really quickly and round up everyone who can help. Then I’ll be back.” Jack hesitated; there were few things he liked more than altering a plan, particularly if that could result in the possible failure of the plan. But the whole idea, the entire purpose to what they were doing was to save their people. And one of them needed saving. “All right. Make it fast and be sure they have a phone for extraction.” * * * DEHA facility in Southern Germany Seeker had been loaded on a plane yesterday and flown somewhere. All he knew is that he’d crossed the Atlantic in the night and was somewhere over Germany. This had the feel of another mutant hunt, and the young man stared moodily out the plane window. When they off-loaded him, he was hustled into a building. It was a standard military complex, one of dozens that Seeker had seen in his time with DEHA. He was marched into a room where a couple of other men were already seated. There was a short, dark-haired man whose face brought to mind yard gnomes; Seeker had worked with him before. If Cancel was here, this was definitely a mutant hunt. The other man was probably the muscle: he was slim and blond with an intense gaze that seemed to take in all the details of a room. Like Seeker, they were in AMP collars. The door opened one more time and a group entered. One of the members was a boy in his early teens; he took the open seat between Seeker and the blond without a word to anyone. The other men were clearly DEHA and they opened the briefing immediately. “This is Farhenheit.” An image of a woman made of flame appeared on the screen behind the man giving the briefing. “She’s exceptionally dangerous and completely crazy. Yesterday, she escaped from German custody so it falls to all of you to get her back. We’ve arranged for a capture outside of Passau, Germany. Her tracking chip shows she’s in the region and we have someone she really wants to kill. We’ve leaked where he’ll be for her to come and find him.” A satellite image replaced the woman behind the military man briefing them. It showed a wooded area, remote and perfect for staging a balls-out mutant fight. “I’m going over what everyone’s roles will be in this operation. Seeker, you’re our hound, as normal. Assist where you can. Cancel, take out her powers as fast as you can, before she kills someone. In particular, the doctor we’re using as bait is to be protected. Strike-” The young boy looked up at that. “-you’re going to protect Dr. Silverstein from damage, taking attacks for him if necessary. Hopefully she’ll think twice about attacking you. Prime, you’re to take her on in the air. Seeker and Cancel, this is Strike and Prime’s first mutant hunt, so feel free to share your wisdom with them. We’re all in this together.” * * * After gathering up everyone at Home who was willing to go, Tyrone jumped them all back to the staging ground in Tibet. “Everyone, here’s what we know. Fahrenheit is a flame-based mutant who escaped from the facility holding her in Germany. She’s now in Southern Germany. DEHA is setting a trap for her south of Passau, Germany in a wooded area. They’re using her former doctor to draw her out. We’d like you guys to go get her, keep her free and get her home.” “Easy enough, right? Let’s get this baby rolling.” Tyrone turned from them and began to open up a warp, making the way for them. “Does she look like a flame controller?” Fenris asked. “Oh, you can’t miss her.” Jack nodded firmly. “She’s quite distinctive.”
  4. The warp opened into a tree canopy. It was dark enough that reading would have been difficult. There was almost no growth; the thin soil had only scrawny plants growing in it. It was hot and humid; the air was thick with moisture. It smelled like the wilderness, and the scent of water hung in the air. Animals were screaming in alarm at their sudden appearance. Ahead of them, a hesitation in the density of trees revealed an old temple. The stone rose in stairs and blocks, though some of it was crumbling. Matt grinned and stepped backward, waving them away from the temple. “The under-canopy entrance is back here.” Now his smile was proud as he explained, “I added this entrance so we wouldn’t risk being seen coming and going by spy satellites.” “Where are we?” Rebekka asked softly. “We’re in Guatemala.” Jack was being picked up by David; clearly he found this undignified but he continued to share his information as he was carried like a child. “Almost in Mexico. This is an old Mayan temple, refurnished courtesy of our earthmover.” Matt bowed, smiling. Their rescuers seemed more relaxed now that they were here and the warp was closed. The under-canopy entrance appeared to be little-more than a hole in the ground; once inside, there were handholds in the stone. The tunnel under the ground was straight and smooth; electrical cords appeared to be trapped in blocks of stone along the ceiling. Matt had gone first, showing people where to grab, then he was the one leading the tour. They were walked back toward the temple, rooms opening up quickly. At first they were storage areas; next they were empty rooms. There were more rooms than people, even after the increase in numbers with the escapees. Lights came from lanterns that were plugged into the cords or by chemical glow sticks. “The power comes from generators, back in a cavern that way. We have to steal gas or propane for them.” David smiled. “Pick a room, make it home. We have blankets and basic bedding in all the rooms, but let me know if you need anything. Or want. We can’t guanatee anything, but I’ll do what I can to make this feel like home to you.”
  5. Mole National Park, Central Ghana Savannah stretched before the black hole, which marred the natural beauty of late-afternoon Ghana. The animals in the area were keeping their distance from the strange humans there. The smells coming from them made the wildlife nervous. John’s arm itched but he didn’t move to scratch it. His focus was on that black hole, waiting for their brethren to arrive. Who would be first? Mary, the reluctant escapee? Travis, the furious kinetic? Maybe Gold with his physical prowess would be first. In his heart though, he wanted it to be Lamia. He was dreading seeing her; she was one of his regrets. Ty-ty was next to him, using the table as a shield and holding the extra clips on the gun. Tyrone’s youngest sister had been training with him for a while for this task and had proven herself to him. It was her job to reload or cock it or do anything he might have done with his left hand. She was young but had her older brother’s reliability and intelligence. The flat plane of the warp rippled a little, signaling incoming. John exhaled and blanked all thoughts from his mind, preparing to shoot. But when the slight girl emerged, he stayed his hand. It was Mary, or looked like her. “Get behind me! Hurry up!” The girl skittered to the side and said, “Th… there’s more people coming. Don’t use that on them? Please?” “I will not shoot any people,” he assured her, remembering that she was soft on humans and electing not to mention that humans were not people. “Now clear the way.” She nodded and scurried behind him. “And don’t bother Tyrone. He’s the gentleman providing the ride.” There was another ripple, larger this time. Do not be a tank, he thought. Instead a floating slab of concrete pushed through, holding the other escapees. “Come on, David.” The woman on the slab looked at him, frowned and said, “John of Howsted?” John smiled awkwardly. “Hello, Lamia.” The cell phone on the ground started to ring; Ty-ty looked down at it and said, “It’s Matt.” “Shit. Come on, David.” It seemed to take forever before the flaming form darted through the warp. Tyrone released it with sigh and the warp collapsed. “Matt called,” John reported. “I’m working on getting him out,” Tyrone reported, his eyes closing in concentration. David turned to the four mutants he had rescued. “Welcome to freedom,” he said to them, smiling. “We can celebrate in a moment, but we have to get the tracking chips out of you before we go home.” He picked up a case, opened it and set it on a second table. “Who’s first?” Behind him, another black hole started to form. It took roughly thirty seconds for it to solidy into a black disc of nothingness.
  6. Transcript from Interview with Grav Transcript from Interview with Hard Light/Dog Transcript from Interview with Fenris May 5, 2012, 3:47 am CCT Foduxiang, East China Sea Foduxiang appeared to be just another island in the East China Sea, but it was an open secret that the Chinese government had a private resort there. The once-volcanic island was now dormant and completely dead, but the two small peaks that had once created the tropical island were still there. The rich soils supported a wide variety of life, including a few species transported to the island for big-game hunting. Tigers now hunted lands that had never been theirs, and Cape Buffalo wallowed in the wetlands and glowered at trespassers. At two miles wide by two miles tall, there was actually enough room to stretch out a bit. The only official way onto the island was to via a dock on the Western edge of the island. A single building stood there, a mixture of security checkpoint and a garage for the jeeps and the boats. From there, a single path wove deeper into the island, paved only because the wet season turned much of the island into a mudpit. There were a total of four buildings clustered inside a small walled enclosure. The biggest was the guest facilities, where most of the rooms were, along with a rec room and a kitchen. A barracks for the soldiers was the next largest building, followed by the staff residence. Finally, a small building served as a storage facility. There was also a driving range, a tennis court and a swimming pool. If the grounds inside the walls had been utterly dominated, then the ground outside were still wild. It was here that Fenris worked. His orders were to watch for interlopers and stop them. If he couldn’t stop them, then he was to alert the compound and made sure the Russian staff got out. Mr. Misha Ivanov and his two assistants were the primary concern of this mission; Ivanov was a friend of President Putin’s and had his blessing to negotiate this deal with China regarding oil. As such, he was given limited freedom to do his business as he saw fit, in a green paradise. It wasn’t so bad, as missions went. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- The plane was running below the radar but over the waves – in theory. The turbulence from flying this low was bouncing them up and down. Grav rode silently, ignoring the mutant shivering next to her. They’d called him Dog, and he’d seemed terrified of the Canadian major who was giving him orders. She shifted a little, getting more comfortable against her safety restraints. It was a little silly; if the plane went down, she wasn’t going down with it. “Remember your mission,” Grav’s handler said to her quietly. “You just need to take out Ivanov, disrupt the talks and get the hell out. There is a Russian mutie there, but we’re not sure which. You have your maps and everything you need.” The red light flashed and a buzz rang out; Dog flinched but Grav merely unbuckled. At the back of the plane, the cargo doors opened, granting the mutants freedom to the skies. “Good luck,” Grav’s handler told her with a smile. “Don’t fuck it up,” the major growled to Dog. Then it was time to jump out of the plane and fly to the island.
  7. Transcript from Interview with Travis Kincaid Transcript from Interview with Mary Transcript from Interview with Lamia Transcript from Interview with Gold May 5, 2012, 9:44 a.m. MST Sletten Lake, North Dakota The Sletten Lake Containment Facility sits in rural North Dakota, far from any major settlements. It is clearly a military complex, but unlike other military complexes, it doesn’t feed the local economy. Trucks come and go all the time, but they are military transports, and they don’t stop at the local Kum & Go. The locals have dozens of rumors about the place, all of them far less fantastic than the truth. The center of Sletten is the Main Building, sometimes called Mutant central. This squat, single story concrete box houses the facility’s mutants, all four of them. Sometimes, it’s inconceivable to the soldiers and scientists here that so much exists solely to study and contain these four, but at other times, it was all too easy to understand why all the security existed for them. They were some of the most dangerous or valuable mutants housed in the United States. The Main Building is divided into five sections by incredibly thick walls, one for each of their mutants and a fifth area that houses, the supply room, computer room, cafeteria, one of three armories and some offices. One section houses Mary, along with labs and offices to support the scientists who study her. She also has a compliment of guards; men she’s never seen who have orders specifying under what conditions they can put a bullet in her head. Lamia has another section; like Mary, she has a bevy of guards and scientists, thought their functions and orders are very different. Each woman’s suite contains several rooms, each of them designed to provide her with everything she needs so she’ll never have to be removed from the secure area. The third area houses Project Ice, a government funded research project to determine the viability of long-term cyrostatis. Their mutant test subject is housed there, along with all the labs and equipment that are required by the program. The fourth section contains the imprisoned mutant Gold as well as the Colonel who oversees the training general preparedness of Weapon Gold. Today was sunny and bright; a few clouds scuttled overhead. Outside the Main Building, the unit permanently dispatched here went about their duties, which mostly involved finding new ways to remain alert on this fairly dull day. The sun overhead made the air warmer than was usual for early May in North Dakota, and a couple of the harder working soldiers were already sweating. No one really looked up, so no one noticed that there wasn’t one sun in the sky, but two. The glowing form got in the first strike before anyone realized he was there. The communications tower was briefly outlined in gold as the sun itself seemed to strike it; then the concrete slagged under the intense heat. Men didn’t have time to notice they were dying before the fact, save a few luckless souls who were far enough away to survive the initial blast only to be seared to ash seconds later. The shed housing the tanks and vehicles was next. In nearby Battleview, population 389, the residents stared to the south, where the horizon glowed with a second sunrise. The first of the anti-aircraft weapons fired at the glowing form, only to explode against a glowing shield yards away from the form. Another shell entered the fray; this one struck the form. The explosion couldn’t obscure the form’s brilliance, and the form seemed relatively unhurt. But the defenses were gearing up, and the form dropped rapidly to hover just above the building. Another blast of heat and light from his hands punched a brutal hole into the roof, and the DEHA’s worst nightmare came true: a mutant had penetrated Project Ice. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Travis was dreaming again. He was flying and free, with nothing to stop him save his own limits. The platform of debris under his feet carried him high into the sky and he grinned at the unparalleled feeling of freedom. Then he remembered – he couldn’t dream while he was in cyro-sleep. That thought brought a surge of adrenaline, as he realized he was being woken up again. He came awake with a shout, ready to fight. An alarm whooped in the building, and there was a hole in the ceiling of the lab. There was only another man in the room and Travis wasn’t strapped to a gurney. The other person was thin, not too tall, and older in his mid-to-late forties. His hair was brown and eyes gray; his close-cropped facial hair added his age. But more important that all that: the man glowed with a golden light. He was another mutant. “Ready to leave?” the man asked. “Fuck yes!” Travis said, bounding off the bed. He was dressed in hospital pants and nothing else, but he didn’t care. It was time to GTFO. “Great. There’s three more mutants held here,” the man told him. “Gold’s prison is that way.” He pointed due south. “You spring him – I’m going to make sure the other two are ready to go. I have a way out, so don’t worry about getting away. Just get Gold out. Got it?” -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Gold sighed as he worked his sore muscles. The workout today had taxed even him; the latest trainings had a deliberate feel, and the mutant resigned himself to another upcoming mission. Maybe he’d get to kill some humans and no mutants. That’d be nice. A distant roar rang through the building, like it’d been struck with a hammer. The mutant was on his feet before the vibrations had stopped and the alarm started. Outside his cell, he could hear soldiers scrambling, but he couldn’t see anything. All he knew was that something big was happening. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Lamia stared at the Sudoku puzzle. It was the last one in the book, and she debated whether she should complete it or wait. She’d angered one of the doctors accidently last week, so there was no telling when her next book would come. She ran her fingers over the squares, trying to decide if she should save it, or if she was bored enough to do it now. Perhaps she would only work on it five minutes- A distant roar rang through the building, like it’d been struck with a hammer. Lamia looked around in alarm – alarm mixed with hope. How many sweet dreams had started just this way? How often had she hoped for something like this to herald her escape? Was her chance here? -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Mary was asleep; she wasn’t normally allowed to sleep this late but it was a Saturday, and she’d done very well on her test yesterday. Normally, she’d be filled with a sense of satisfaction over that, but Dr. LaCroix’s visit had tainted everything since that point. A distant roar rang through the building, like it’d been struck with a hammer. Mary woke up and was half out of bed before she really thought about what she was doing. Her thoughts flew to Dr. LaCroix, and what she’d said.
  8. Transcript from Interview with Mirage Transcript from Interview with Noctis Transcript from Interview with The Archive May 5, 2012, 6:45 p.m. SAST Spicenkop Research Facility, South Africa The Spicenkop Research Facility was normally a rather quiet place; located in northwest South Africa, it sits in the side of a mountain. Hollowed out of the stone itself, the facility normally didn’t host mutants at all. Instead, their scientists typically worked on research, both mechanical and scientific, derived from mutants. As such, the Facility didn’t normally host EBS-geared RRs, or any of the R-94 Supertanks. But for the last twenty-four hours, the place had featured both. The normal soldiers stared at the RRs in their exo-suits, trying to not feel like they were on the set of a science-fiction movie. They’d all heard about the Trains, and what they looked like when fully loaded, but it was still a sight worth staring at. It was also a constant reminder that they had strange mutants inside the facility – foreign and home-town guests, so to speak. Spicenkop has two areas; the first is the garage where the mechanical R&D was done. There are several offices and workshops and labs in this area, and grants the entire facility has a slight smell of grease. Deeper in the mountain is the chemical lab, which has been getting a lot more attention these days. The scientists think they have found something to help them in the on-going war for mutant control. The evening’s focus is on this lab. “Seven o’clock on a Saturday evening. Fuckers,” one of the guest soldiers muttered, glancing at his watch. “How long will this take?” The man had been excited to learn he was going on a mission to South Africa; he’d never been there, and he wanted to see exotic Africa – and exotic African women. Then he’d learned that he was in the middle of nowhere in the northwest part of the country, hours from a large city. Worse, there were no donne nere, here; the South African government would never trust their black population in a position of power. He had seen a pride of lions on his way in, so that was something, but they hadn’t stopped and he hadn’t gotten a picture. This was a terrible mission. The Italian soldier was doing his best to ignore the three mutants in the room, each fitted with an AMP collar and restrained to examination chairs. They all seemed rather calm and complacent; he knew that their Noctis was cooperative. Too cooperative, given some of the stories he’d heard about the mutant being open to being fucked for favors. He’d also been told that even when forced into sex that the mutant had seemed smug about it. The soldier mentally shook his head. That was just all messed up. The French were more observant. Mirage was a little more concerning to them. She was mostly cooperative, but if she were to become less so in this setting, they’d have a hell of a time restraining her. There was always the collar, but that was a measure of final recourse. Many of them even liked her; she was largely non-offensive. But none of them could trust her, not completely. Her green hair was a constant reminder of why trust was impossible. The South Africans were much more casual about their charge. The beautiful Rebekka was dragged into the room, shivering from the final throes of the feeding they’d just given her. When she was dropped roughly into the chair, she moaned in delight; her expression, as they secured her, said that the experience wasn’t unpleasant. The Italians and Germans watched uneasily, filled with a mixture of disgust and envy as the South African men took their time lashing her down, none too careful where they put their hands. Finally they stepped back and the scientists moved in, preparing IVs and saline bags. A line was attached to the saline drip, which led to a small remote designed to slowly administer an unknown drug. That done, the scientist heading the experiment said, “We need to clear the room, please. We don’t know what reactions the chemicals will induce.” That wasn’t comforting at all to the restrained mutants. “It will not kill them, will it?” the Capitaine in charge of the French contingent asked. Mirage was France’s best mutant; he was loathe to allow her to be destroyed at DEHA whim. “No, kytone doesn’t kill, and neither should dyxelkytone,” the lead researcher assured him. “Clearing the room is merely a precaution.” Nervously, the soldiers withdrew, casting final looks over their shoulders at the mutants. A low rumble shifted through the complex; screams rang through the corridors from the mechanical R&D area. “What is happening?” one of the Italians asked, moving automatically to cover the door to the room the mutants were in, just in case. “I… I don’t know!” one of the scientists babbled nervously, his eyes wide. “God help us.” The whisper was strangely loud in the room. The woman who’d spoken was staring at the screens that monitored the room; wish a shaking finger, she pointed at the fourth mutant who was now in the room. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- The three mutants were only alone a few seconds when the tiled floor writhed and buckled. The stone underneath bubbled upward, stretching over six feet tall before parting to reveal a man in blue jeans and a collared shirt, open over a gray t-shirt. He had pale brown hair, gray eyes and the kind of face you would buy a used car from. “I’m here to getcha y’all out,” he announced to the three in American English. “Anyone not wanna leave?”
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