The translucent bubble popped into existence around the second Sentinel. It wobbled as Eva fought for control, trying desperately to maintain both bubbles simultaneously.
Graydon caught the Box and began to run.
With a sigh of relief, Eva released the first bubble. It took a fraction of a second for the Sentinel to realize that Graydon was only yards away. It lurched into action, trying to intercept his escape attempt.
Eva waited for just the right moment. Then she released the second bubble.
The moment the Sentinel was released, it fired at the space where Graydon had been standing. But now, the other robot stood in his place. The laser blasted its head into pieces, and the Sentinel let out a startled electronic bleat before Eva bubbled it a second time. Then she laughed.
“You OK?” she called.
“Just fine.”
Graydon twirled the Box on one finger like it was a basketball. “Nice work with the bubbles. Highly finessed.”
She shrugged modestly. “Yeah, well, it was a good plan. We work well together.”
He nodded, seeming just as surprised about it as she felt. Then he looked over her shoulder once again. “I hate to interrupt this lovely moment that we’re having, but I think we’ve got more company. Think you can do that again?”
“Nah.” She grinned, flush with pride at their success. They’d defeated the Sentinels all on their own, without Sabretooth or Cyclops or any help at all. She felt exhausted and sore, and she’d pulled a muscle in her shoulder, but she couldn’t have been happier. “I think we can do better this time.”
Chapter 22
After they left Eva and Graydon, Christopher followed Sabretooth, trying to mimic his silent method of moving through the trees, but he quickly realized that his body couldn’t do those things. It would be like trying to mimic the motions of a high-performance car, so he went back to trying not to sound like a herd of animals.
Sabretooth led him through the park, past baseball diamonds full of screaming parents and bored children, past the delicious smelling hot dog stand, and through the skate park. He kept his head down and his shoulders hunched, his long blond hair hanging down to hide his face. No one bothered them. Christopher had to walk quickly to keep up. Sabretooth took huge strides.
“Do you think they’re OK?” Christopher asked.
“Huh?”
“Eva and Graydon. Do you think they’re OK?”
“Wouldn’t have left them if I didn’t.”
“You don’t really worry, do you?” Christopher shook his head. “I wish I knew your secret. I worry about everything.”
“No real mystery to it, kid. Once you make a decision, there’s no looking back. When you’ve lived as long as I have, you realize the only thing you get from looking back is regret. The only way through is forward,” Sabretooth said gruffly.
“That’s… that’s some good advice,” Christopher said. He was honestly more than a little shocked.
“Pay me a quarter, and I’ll call it even.” Sabretooth grinned.
“You’re not as crazy as they say you are, you know that?” Christopher said, emboldened.
“Oh, yes I am.” Sabretooth stopped, grabbed Christopher by the shoulders, and turned the younger mutant to face him. “I meant what I said. I do what I need to do to survive, and I don’t second guess myself. Sometimes that means thinking about one thing: me. Fact is, I could never hack it as one of you do-gooder X-Men types.”
“I think you’re a better guy than you let on,” said Christopher, staunchly.
“You think? Summers has called me a lot of things over the years. Like a ‘criminal,’ and a ‘wildcard,’ and my personal favorite, a ‘menace to society.’ But I think he’s a blowhard with a bad haircut, so I guess we’re even.” Sabretooth began walking again. “I’m a bad guy, kid. But even bad guys can do the right thing every once in a while, if you give them the right reasons.”
“And Graydon is the right reason, huh?” said Christopher.
Sabretooth didn’t reply.
“I’m going to assume that you heard me, with your super-sensitive hearing and all. So I must be right.” Christopher sighed. “I don’t know what’s going on, and I know I’m just a newbie, but I’m going to help anyway. I think Graydon’s going to need it. I’ll do everything I can to make sure he’s OK. It’s like you said before. Nobody messes with my people. Even when they’re jerks.”
“Yeah,” Sabretooth said gruffly. “I appreciate it.”
They continued on in companionable silence to the harbor. The water was choppy, and as they approached, it began to drizzle again. Sabretooth looked up at the early evening sky and growled as if this might make it stop. It didn’t. The water was all but deserted except for the gulls; they swooped and cawed, searching out a few last tidbits. Christopher saw a few larger freighters far out to sea, but otherwise the docks and the bay remained largely deserted. He took Sabretooth down toward the end and pointed out the direction of the chopper, pulling the remote from his pocket. All he had to do was push the button, and it would land right on the sand next to them. Easy peasy.
He pushed the button. Nothing happened.
“You have got to be kidding me,” he muttered, pushing it again.
“Does it need new batteries?” asked Sabretooth. “Want me to hit it and swear a little? That works with my TV.”
“The button lights up when I push it, so I know that it’s working. Something’s wrong.”
“Did someone steal your invisible chopper?”
Christopher looked up and down the beach as if he might spot some handy explanatory sign with bullet points that would tell him what had happened to the X-Copter and what to do about it. Sadly, no sign popped up. No tour guide with informational pamphlets sprang up from the sand. He would have even made do with a nice portal opening up and spitting out all of the instructors from the New Xavier School, who would then order him around and make all of the big decisions, leaving him to follow in their wake with the burden of decision-making removed from his shoulders. That last option would likely come with a lecture and a variety of disapproving looks, but he would gladly endure them all if only it meant that he could relax a bit. All of this responsibility really wore on a person. He could have used a nap.
He sighed. “I guess we should make sure it’s still out there. I could see if there’s a boat that we could borrow.”
“You mean steal.”
“Borrow. We’d return it.”
“Kid, do you know how to hotwire a boat?” Sabretooth asked, arching a brow.
Christopher blinked, looking toward the marina. A variety of boats floated there, tied to the docks in peaceful quiet. He knew nothing about boats. He just figured he’d grab one of the smaller ones.
“What do you mean, hotwire? I figured I’d grab a rowboat. Or a kayak. Something with paddles. Who said anything about hotwiring? I mean, have you met me? I’d have no idea where to even start,” he said.
Sabretooth snickered. He tried to hide it, turning his head away and covering it with a very transparent cough, but he was one of the worst actors Christopher had ever seen.
“Go ahead,” Christopher said sourly. “Laugh at me. I can take it.”
Sabretooth laughed outright. “Come on,” he said. “That’s comedy gold right there.” He punched Christopher on the shoulder, nearly sending him into the water. “Lighten up, kid. You gotta quit taking yourself so seriously.”
Christopher wilted. He didn’t mind getting made fun of; that wasn’t what bothered him. He just wanted to go back to school. He’d had enough of feeling sick and lost and scared, and he was ready to be done now. Besides, he’d proven himself, right? He’d saved Emma in the Danger Room, and if that wasn’t enough, he’d taken down a freaking dinosaur. If anybody had earned a little R & R, he had, if only the stupid remote would cooperate.
Sabretooth studied him, his head tilted to one side. “Hey,” he said. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll just swim it. No boat hijacking necessary. But you got to hold my coat, OK? This is my favorite one, and I’ll be ticked if something happens to it.”
“The water’s probably freezing,” Christopher protested.
Sabretooth grinned. It seemed like he was actually looking forward to this, which provided yet more evidence that he was borderline insane.
“Nothing like a nice, brisk swim to wake a man up,” he said.
Hope rose in Christopher’s belly, but logic quickly quashed it. “How are you going to find the chopper if you can’t see it?” he asked.
“Water on the hull of a heavy object has a specific sound to it,” Sabretooth explained. “All the stealth technology in the world can’t cloak that if you know what to listen for. Lucky for you, I am a man of extensive experience and skill.” He preened.
“You’re pretty modest, too,” Christopher said.
Sabretooth shook a finger at him. “Watch it, kid. You keep that up, and I’ll toss you in the drink instead and let you go fishing for the chopper.”
He stripped off the jacket and tossed it to Christopher, smacking him in the face with the sleeve. Christopher didn’t dare to complain about it, though. He felt like he’d pushed his luck hard enough with Sabretooth. The animalistic mutant wasn’t exactly what he’d expected. He’d had this image of a wild and aggressive creature that acted only on instinct and delighted in violence, one that had no understanding of culture or relationships or even real emotions. He didn’t know why he’d thought that. Maybe because he’d read all of those stories about Sabretooth’s years as a killer for hire and the trail of blood he’d left behind him.
Now he realized that the truth was much deeper. Just as Cyclops wasn’t the perfect hero that Christopher had wanted him to be, Sabretooth wasn’t all bad either. He could still care about people despite himself, joke around, eat eight hot dogs in one sitting, and other things that normal people did. Christopher had made the lazy assumption that someone like Sabretooth would do nothing but kill things simply because he had fangs and claws. Because he was the infamous Sabretooth, and a legendary mutant like that would never do anything mundane.
It was the same mistake Graydon had made, making assumptions about Sabretooth because of what he was.
The revelation left him flushing with shame as he clutched Sabretooth’s coat. The muscular mutant failed to notice his embarrassment. Sabretooth tied his hair back and stripped off his boots. The wind whipped his face as he stood there for a moment, silhouetted against the sky, and he turned and winked before diving into the waves. Christopher held the trench coat tighter, trying to protect it from the spotty rain. It smelled like wood smoke and leather soap and gunpowder. Something crunched when he tucked it under his arm. Unable to resist the pull of curiosity, he reached into the pocket to find a packet of dried apple slices. He would have expected bullet casings and knives, if he’d guessed on the contents of Sabretooth’s pockets that morning, and he felt ashamed of himself for it.
He couldn’t even see Sabretooth. His eyes scanned the choppy waves with no luck, and he tented a hand above them to protect them from the mist, hoping that would help, but no joy. He’d really begun to worry when a tawny head popped up a few yards from shore. Sabretooth took a few steps onto the sand and shook like a dog, spraying water everywhere. The chains around his neck jingled.
“Well?” Christopher asked hopefully.
Sabretooth hadn’t been gone long, so that had to bode well. He must have found the chopper quickly. He could take Christopher out there, and they’d call Cyclops, and this whole thing would be over soon. Christopher could feel the tension draining from his shoulders already.
“I found it easy enough,” said Sabretooth, rubbing his hands together. “Damn, it’s cold. Let’s head up toward the bathrooms. They might have one of those hand dryers I can stand under for a minute.”
“Sure thing.”
Christopher gathered up the clothes and his staff, following Sabretooth up toward the nearby building. As impatient as he was, he couldn’t begrudge a minute or two to warm up. They were minutes away from success, after all. A brief detour wouldn’t matter that much.
They reached the bathrooms only to find the men’s room door secured with a heavy padlock. Sabretooth took a moment to glance around and make sure there were no inconvenient onlookers and aimed a well-placed kick at the heavy door. It released with a boom and a clang. He gestured to Christopher with a flourish.
“After you,” he said.
Christopher went inside, happy to get in out of the wet. He hung Sabretooth’s jacket over one of the stalls and availed himself of the facilities while Sabretooth dried himself off. By the time Christopher had finished washing his hands, he couldn’t resist his eagerness any longer.
“So can you take me out to the chopper after we’re done here?” he said eagerly. “How do you think we should work this?”
But when he turned to face Christopher, Sabretooth wore a drawn and serious expression.
“You’re not gonna like this, kid,” he said. “To be honest, I don’t either.”
Christopher sagged against the nearest stall door. “What’s wrong this time?” he asked.
“I couldn’t get to the X-Copter. I can tell it’s there, but I can’t get to it. There’s a force field around the chopper. Probably explains why your remote won’t work too. It shocked me something fierce when I tried to break through it. I had to turn back. Figured I wouldn’t do anybody much good if I shocked myself unconscious and drowned out there.”
“A force field? Come on! Can’t we catch a freaking break?” Christopher threw his hands up. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He had just about had it with this mission, and the constant setbacks and… everything. If he could have quit, he would have given it serious consideration at that moment. But he didn’t even have that option, and it made him so frustrated that he wanted to scream. He clenched his fists and paced for a long time.
Sabretooth let him stew. He didn’t try to soothe his temper or offer empty platitudes. He just waited until Christopher’s fury slowly faded and logic took over once again.
“Why would somebody put a force field around the X-Copter?” Christopher finally asked in a quiet voice.
“That’s a good question, isn’t it?” Sabretooth nodded. “Almost seems like somebody doesn’t want us leaving with the Box, huh?”
Christopher opened his mouth to answer, but he had no good response for that. He fell back into a deep and pensive silence as Sabretooth turned the dryer on again.
Chapter 23
By the third – or was it fourth – wave of Sentinels, Eva and Graydon had their approach down to a science.
Graydon had a knack for getting the robots to do just what he wanted at precisely the right time, and he manipulated them deftly into the right position for Eva to freeze them in place. Eva felt as if her control with her time bubbles grew by the minute, even if she tired along with it. She might need a nice long rest at the end of this, but she began to think that her dreams of helping Jean Grey and the rest of the time-displaced mutants weren’t so far-fetched after all.
It was as if she could sense the strands of time just beyond the confines of her bubbles. All she needed to do was expand her abilities and find a way to pluck them. In just one short day, she’d managed feats she’d considered impossible, so why not this one too?
Together, they dispatched the final pair of Sentinels in a masterful stroke, timing the bubbles with such perfection that the robots took each other out in a simultaneous blast of laser fire. Sparks arced into the air as the metal monstrosities toppled over in slow motion. Graydon applauded, and Eva curtsied, then she turned around to scan for more.
“Is that finally it, then?” she asked. “I hope so, because I’m pooped.”
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“For the moment, at least,” he said. “I don’t mind a breather myself. I’ll admit that I’m not used to all of that running.”
“And on an empty stomach too,” she said, shaking her head.
It seemed like he ought to topple over at any moment from low blood sugar. He’d been running circles around the Sentinels for the past ten minutes or so, and he hadn’t eaten anything since she and Christopher had arrived. She’d been healed a few times in the past, and she’d been ravenous afterwards. Christopher had said her body was replenishing the energy it had used to repair the damaged tissues or something to that effect.
But Graydon wasn’t injured after taking on so many Sentinels despite his lack of mutant abilities, super-powers, or any weapons at all. She had a pulled muscle and a singed bit on her arm where one of the Sentinels had gotten off a shot that landed a bit too close for comfort. But Graydon was fine. Not hungry. Not tired. Not hurt.
Actually, not really fine either, come to think of it. She couldn’t bring herself to face it, because after everything that had happened, she found herself pitying him.
“I’ll take a quick look around to make sure there aren’t any more of them,” she offered, changing the subject. He settled himself back down at the base of the tree, ready to spring up again at a moment’s notice if needed. “But before I go, I probably ought to bubble the Box again.”
He grimaced. “Is that truly necessary?”
She looked up at the tree. Since the Box had been in rather continuous motion over the past few minutes, its effects seemed to have been more widespread than when it had sat motionless on the park bench. However, the leaves still drooped noticeably, and black rot hugged their edges. He followed her gaze and sighed.
“I suppose I don’t need to ask. Go ahead. Do what you must,” he said.
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