Salvation

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Salvation Page 5

by Unknown Author


  They didn’t stand a chance.

  But they were going anyway.

  That’s what it meant to be one of the X-Men.

  “So, we’re sure the others are being kept in the Empire State Building?” Jean asked. “I’ve tried a psi-scan, but I’m being blocked.”

  “I’m getting a bit of static myself, Jean, but I did get through,” Professor Xavier said. “Storm, Wolverine, Bishop, and the Beast are all still alive and well and Magneto’s captives. You three alone will not be able to win the day. Your teammates must be freed before you truly enter into the battle.”

  M

  “Though I doubt Magneto’s hordes are just going to let us walk in,” Cyclops said cynically.

  Another long silence.

  “Have you all read Norse mythology?” Jean asked, a non-sequitur that caused them all to look at her askance.

  “The gods and the giants spend tens of thousands of years fighting one another, neither ever really gaining the upper hand. Then the apocalypse comes, only they call it Ragnarok. It’s their final battle, and they pull out all the stops. It’s total chaos.”

  “I always enjoyed the stories, Jean,” Professor Xavier said. “But is there a point to this?”

  “Just that, in the end, neither side is victorious. They are all destroyed.”

  “And y’think that’s us?” Rogue asked, surprised at her teammate’s pessimism.

  “I hope it’s not,” Jean said.

  “And on that happy note,” Cyclops said, shaking his head, “let’s get going. We’ve got some X-Men to liberate, and a city to save.”

  “I don’t suppose we can get a cab to the Empire State Building?” Jean asked, making her own attempt at levity.

  Rogue was relieved to see that she wasn’t the only one whose jokes were bombing. She understood, though. There just wasn’t much to laugh about.

  “Jean?” Professor Xavier asked.

  “I know, Professor,” Jean answered, tapping her temple. “We’ll keep in touch.”

  * • *

  Amelia Voght stood side by side with several of her fellow Acolytes, including Senyaka, Cargil, and the Kleinstock brothers, and looked out over a veritable sea of Alpha- and Beta-level mutants. They had gathered for the first formal explanation of how, exactly, Haven was to be governed. What were the laws, they all wanted to know. Voght wanted to know as well.

  Magneto had delegated the duty of presenting his imperial

  decrees to Major Skolnick, who would serve as a sort of governor for Haven. The gathered mutants seemed somewhat disappointed that Magneto would not be there, but Voght saw the logic.

  Better that he remain apart from the others, above and beyond their reach. He was the emperor, after all. The Acolytes had always afforded him the obedience and respect due an omnipotent ruler. But this was different, Voght thought. For the first time, Magneto actually had an empire to rule. Or, at least, the beginnings of one.

  Skolnick called for attention, and a hush fell over the gathered mutants. Voght marveled at the sheer power gathered in that room, and felt something akin to awe beginning to grow within her.

  One would have to be completely insane to willingly enter into battle with the forces Magneto had at his beck and call. But Voght had to remind herself that she lived in a world with no shortage of insane people.

  * * *

  “Is it me,” Rogue asked, “or are we completely out of our minds?”

  Jean grinned and Scott actually cracked a smile.

  “It isn’t you,” Jean answered.

  “Thank you.”

  They had emerged from the Holland Tunnel to find Manhattan’s lower west side almost completely devoid of life. The Sentinels had not moved to stop them because the X-Men were, of course, mutants. Still, passing beneath the gargantuan robot had given Rogue a feeling of terrible dread. They were behind enemy lines, now. Anything could happen.

  “Talk about The Twilight Zone,” Jean said quietly.

  “You too?” Scott asked.

  “Oh, yeah,” she said. “With the sun high in the sky, and nobody around, it’s like we’ve been shunted to some side dimension where we can’t see or hear anyone else in the city.”

  “Ain’t you two forgettin’ somethin’?” Rogue asked. “I

  mean, correct me if I’m wrong, but do we really want t’see anyone else?”

  They hugged the buildings, taking advantage of what few shadows the midday sun offered. Not far off, Rogue could smell something good cooking, and her stomach grumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t had enough to eat before leaving New Jersey.

  “Smell that?” Cyclops said. “Obviously, some people are getting on with their lives.”

  “Lucky them,” Rogue muttered.

  At West Broadway, they turned north. Six blocks later, they turned east again. There were, they quickly discovered, far more people out and about than they would ever have imagined. Several people had cheered out loud when they had approached or passed by. Nearly as many had ducked or run into hiding. One old man actually hurled a bottle of whiskey at them. It smashed at Jean’s feet, but the three X-Men kept moving right along.

  They met with no other resistance, human or mutant. No mutant militia showed up to detain them, though all three admitted that Magneto might very well already know they were in the city.

  Rogue took point. When she turned north on Sixth Avenue, Scott and Jean were half a block behind. Almost immediately, she heard raucous, drunken laughter and loud male voices. The sounds came from the shattered plate-glass window of a dive with the words keith’s pub in fractured neon above the door.

  Quickly, she stepped to the window. The sun’s glare made it almost reflective, so she moved to the huge jagged hole in its center, and peered in. Six leather-clad, body-pierced, tattooed young men menaced the bartender, who was serving them whole bottles from behind the bar. The largest man, whom Rogue took to be the leader, had glowing eyes. Mutants. Already fulfilling Magneto’s “dream.” Though Magneto’s words were seductive, Rogue knew that what she was witnessing was the reality of his new empire. Sadistic mutant tyrants would band together to rule Manhatttan, terrorizing the city’s human citizens.

  hi

  One of the mutants, a large man with a ponytail and a pink scar running down his left cheek, noticed her standing in the broken window.

  “Hey, hey, boys!” he crowed. “Check out the girly-girl.”

  The other live mutants, and the cowed bartender, all looked her way. After a heartbeat’s pause, the inebriated fools began to swagger toward her. Most of them looked relatively harmless, but the one she had assumed was the leader had an aura of blue energy around him that began to crackle as he moved toward Rogue. He might have the power to back up his attitude.

  “Hello, darlin’,” the leader said. “Why don’t you come on in here and be friendly instead of standin’ out there and starin’ at us?”

  “Actually, I prefer it out here,” Rogue said, purposely baiting them. “A girl’s got to have fresh air.”

  The leader's energy aura brightened, flashing around him and rising toward the bar’s ceiling like a raging blaze of fire.

  “I don’t think you heard me,” he said, and the bartender was forgotten as all six mutants moved toward Rogue. “Don’t you know who we are?”

  Rogue raised an eyebrow. For a moment, she imagined how they must see her. A pretty girl, model tall, model thin, auburn hair with that white streak, green eyes, and a Southern accent. The green boots, jacket, and gloves would seem flashy if you didn’t know it was a uniform. Despite the exhausting events of the past couple of days, Rogue knew she looked good. And that was all they saw.

  Prey.

  “Well?” the leader demanded, raising a hand and sending a crackling tendril of energy reaching toward Rogue’s face.

  “Oh, darlin’,” Rogue said, shaking her head with a small smile. “Don’t y’all know who I am?”

  Several of the mutants snickered, but the leader didn’t find
it funny. His lips curled up in a sneer and he stepped even closer to the broken window. The aura surrounding him melted the jagged glass that it came into contact with.

  ‘ ‘See, now, I was going to be nice, but you had to go and

  get attitude on me,” he said. “Now I’m going to have to fry you.”

  Out of the comer of her eye, Rogue saw the faces of two mutants go slack with sudden fear, and then understanding.

  “Uh, Billy?” one of them asked, tapping the leader on the shoulder.

  “Not now!” Billy snapped.

  “But, Billy,” the other said. “Check the dude with the visor.”

  They were all staring now. Cyclops and Jean Grey stood directly behind Rogue, but she didn’t turn to acknowledge them, only continued to stare at Billy. For his part, Billy looked from Cyclops, to Rogue, to Jean, back to Cyclops, and finally, back to Rogue, all in about three seconds.

  “Oh, God,” Billy said. “You guys are ... 1 know who you guys are. Oh, man. You guys are... you’re them, aren’t you?”

  “Yep,” Rogue said coldly. “We’re them.”

  “Oh, man,” Billy said, as his friends moved, very un-subtly, away from him, away from the broken window, back into the bar.

  “I’m sorry,” he added.

  “Don’t tell us, sugar,” Rogue said. “Tell the bartender.”

  Billy did as he was told.

  “Now,” Rogue added. “All’a you, take out y’wallets, give whatever cash you have to the bartender, and get your butts out of here.”

  “Where should we go?” one of them asked.

  Rogue smiled. “Oh, that one’s just screamin’ for a tasteless comment.”

  “You have two choices,” Jean said. “You can go home and stay inside until Magneto and his little army are gone, or you can leave the city.”

  “If we see you again, no more choices,” Cyclops added.

  For a few seconds, the gang members stood unmoving. Then, one by one, they removed their wallets, laid cash on the bar, and headed for the door. Billy glared at them on the way out, but Rogue gave him an extra hard look, and he turned

  away. When he had hit the street, he ran faster than any of his buddies.

  “We’ve got to get this city back in order before chaos takes complete control,” Jean said, shaking her head in disbelief.

  But Rogue wasn’t listening. She was staring in the direction the mutant punks had gone. A familiar figure had turned the comer. His back was to the sun, casting his face in shadow, but that nearly seven-foot frame and the helmet that stretched almost shoulder to shoulder were unmistakable.

  “Scott, Jean,” Rogue said. “We got trouble. Magneto ain’t wastin’ time before sendin’ in the big guns.”

  Cyclops whipped around, even as Jean whispered their old enemy’s name.

  “Juggernaut.”

  “Take him down!” Cyclops ordered, and the three X-Men went into action.

  Rogue took to the air, speeding toward the Juggernaut even as several of Cyclops’s optic blasts slammed into their enemy’s chest. The Juggernaut took a single step backward, and looked up in annoyance and what appeared to be confusion as Rogue slammed into him, driving him to the ground but barely able to do even that.

  Still, she’d take it. Most of the time it was all she could do to stand toe to toe with Juggernaut and duke it out. A takedown was a step up. After all, that was part of his power, what made him the Juggernaut. Once he had momentum, nothing could stop the Juggernaut. If he’d been coming at her, there was no way he would have gone down.

  The Juggernaut’s real name was Cain Marko, and much to Charles Xavier’s chagrin, he was the Professor’s stepbrother. The two had grown up together, with Cain quickly developing into a bully, partially due to abuse he received at his father’s hands.

  Thing was, Marko wasn’t a mutant. It had been his misfortune to discover an ancient jewel mystically endowed with extraordinary power. That gem turned him into the Juggernaut. His stamina was limitless, his onslaught unstoppable, and his body totally indestructible. He could be hurt, but as long as he wore his helmet, which blocked any psionic attack, he couid not be beaten.

  Which had never stopped the X-Men.

  “Hit him, Jean!” Cyclops called.

  As Juggernaut leaped to his feet, he was lifted off the ground by Jean’s telekinetic power. This time, when Cyclops let loose with an optic blast, Marko tumbled backward through the air and crashed through a brick wall. Rogue knew she was in line for the follow-through, and she was after him in a flash.

  But not fast enough. Juggernaut emerged from the debris with a massive hunk of brick masonry in his hands and tossed it at Cyclops. Distracted, Rogue glanced back to see Scott incinerate most of the huge projectile with a blast from his eyes. The rest was about to hit him when it simply stopped in midair and fell to the ground.

  Jean again.

  Rogue realized her mistake a moment too late. The Juggernaut’s massive fist, two or three times the size of an average man’s, slammed into her chest and she felt the world slide out from under her. She crashed through a bakery window and landed on a service counter, demolishing it. She was only glad there had not been anyone inside the bakery.

  “Girl,” she said to herself, “you’ve just got to start payin’ attention.”

  She stood, brushed off shattered glass, and headed back out to the street. There was one other way they could beat Juggernaut, but Rogue didn’t really relish the idea. She could allow her skin to touch his, a process through which she would temporarily absorb all of his abilities and many of his memories. It wasn’t something she liked to do under any circumstance, but it did look as though it might become a necessity.

  “What the hell is your problem, X-Men?” the Juggernaut roared, even as he bore down on Jean and Scott, head bowed with anger and determination.

  “I think you know the answer to that, Marko,” Cyclops retorted, and let loose another full-force optic blast.

  But the Juggernaut was in motion. It barely fazed him.

  Scott and Jean leaped aside at the last minute, and the fight continued. Rogue was reminded of a bullfight she had once seen on a trip to Mexico. That’s exactly what this was, she thought. And the X all three of them had emblazoned somewhere on their uniforms was like a red flag for the maddened bull called Cain Marko.

  “This city’s filled with crazy people!” the Juggernaut cried in frustration. “A man can’t even get a few days of R & R without all hell breaking loose, then everybody and their brother wants a piece of ya!”

  “What are you complainin’ about, sugar?” Rogue asked from the air. “Ain’t Magneto and his lapdogs treatin’ you right?”

  “Good God!” Marko shouted. “Do I look stupid to you?”

  Suddenly, the Juggernaut’s face was battered with a rapid-fire succession of bricks from the wall he’d crashed through. Jean was telekinetically controlling the bricks, trying to keep Marko off balance and vulnerable. Or as vulnerable as the Juggernaut could be.

  “Hey!” Juggernaut protested.

  Rogue moved in for another attack. With Marko off balance, she wanted to make an attempt to rip off his helmet so Jean could lay him out with a telepathic assault. If that didn’t work, she would have to resort to absorbing the Juggernaut’s powers. Instantly, she was reminded that the Juggernaut was much faster than he looked. Marko whipped around and gave Rogue a severe backhand that knocked her into a boarded-up comer newsstand. The place fell apart beneath her like kindling.

  “That’s it!” the Juggernaut roared. “Now I’m really starting to get mad!”

  Rogue shivered. Now he’s getting mad? Just over a day earlier, she had battled Gladiator of the Imperial Guard, one of the physically strongest beings in the universe. Now she was realizing that physical strength didn’t count for much when one was dealing with ... well, for lack of a better word, magic. They would have been better off if Juggernaut had been a mutant. At least then, he ...

  Suddenly, doubt overw
helmed her. The Juggernaut hadn’t

  attacked them, they had attacked him. Certainly, he was one of the team’s oldest enemies, since before Rogue had ever met any of the team’s members, but he had merely been walking toward them, then standing still, when they had launched their attack.

  The key, though, was that Cain Marko was not a mutant. His response when Magneto’s name had been mentioned erased any doubts Rogue might have had. The Juggernaut was not working with or for Magneto at all. But then, why ...

  “Rogue, can we get a little assistance here?” Cyclops called, even as the Juggernaut bore down on him again.

  “Wait!” Rogue cried. “Stop! All of you! Marko, please, hold on a minute.”

  The Juggernaut did not slow down. Did not even pay attention to her pleas. And who could blame him? They had, apparently, pushed him much too far.

  A moment before he would have been crushed beneath the Juggernaut’s attack, Jean telekinetically removed Cyclops from danger, lifting him clear of Marko’s path. Rogue knew she had to force the huge man to catch his breath, to take a moment to reevaluate the situation. A moment later, she knew how to do it.

  Even as Cyclops was spirited away, Rogue sped toward the Juggernaut’s back. When he attempted to slow his momentum, to turn and attack the X-Men anew, Rogue got up behind him and began to push with all her strength. She wasn’t trying to stop the Juggernaut. Just the opposite, in fact.

  ' ‘What the... ?” he began, but then he saw the traffic-signal pole sticking out of the sidewalk right in front of him.

  The Juggernaut, growled, and ran right over the pole, which snapped off as he passed. Turning, he bent down to pick it up, single-handed, then held it like a baseball bat and set his feet to swing at Rogue.

  “Juggernaut... Cain, just listen a second,” she said quickly. “We thought you were with Magneto in this whole thing. Now I’m getting the idea we were wrong. It was a natural mistake, but we’re sorry.”

  The Juggernaut raised and lowered the pole like a batter

  choking up, ready for a pitch. She could see the confusion, the hesitation, in his face.

  “We’re sorry,” she said again.

 

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