Logan had never expected to see Creed in this lifetime or the next. He had been at warn with the big hairy sonofabitch for as long as he could remember and even beyond. And, until now, neither had been able to gain the upper hand.
Restrained by thick metal chains, there was little Logan could do to free himself.
“Quit yer flopping, runt,” Creed shouted out the back of the pick-up truck to where Logan lay struggling in the flatbed. “You can’t get outta those things. The boss got them special for you. I think he said the metal was adamarium.... Or something like that.”
Adamantium.
Even knowing that it would be next to impossible to get himself out of the chains, Logan continued to struggle. There was no way he was going down without a fight. If anything, Logan was determined to find some way to get back to Marie. Grateful as he was that she had been left behind this time, Logan wasn’t ready to be without her yet. He probably never would be.
“I told you to stay still,” Creed snarled, swerving the truck violently.
Logan cursed as he was slammed into the wall of the truck bed. He was thrown repeatedly from side to side. His right shoulder slammed exceptionally hard against the hard metal, pushing the chain wrapped around his shoulder deeper against his skin.
“Like that do you, runt? Guess I’ll have to do it some more!”
No matter how much he steeled himself for it, Logan could not prevent the grunts and groans that escaped his lips as he was thrown about the interior of the pick-up flatbed.
On a particular swerve that sent the truck up on two side wheels, Logan was able to roll himself into a seated position so that his back was pressed up against one of the walls. It took some effort and he nearly fell flat on his face several times, but Logan was eventually able to maneuver himself onto his knees. Kneeling, Logan was able to grab onto the edge of the truck wall.
The next time that the truck went up on two wheels, Logan went with it, throwing himself over the side and onto the shoulder of the road.
Rain laced through Logan’s right side, but it was soon gone as his healing factor took over. Within a few seconds the pain was barely noticeable. Groaning at the ever present ache that had yet to leave his body, Logan rolled awkwardly to his feet. He steadied himself momentarily against a nearby tree then took off running into the surrounding forest.
“Get back here, runt!” Creed roared as the pick-up came to a sudden stop.
Ignoring the larger man, Logan continued his escape. He bolted through the threes, his bare feet making barely a around on the leave covered floor. Between the chains and the dirt that covered him from rolling out of the truck, the white of Logan’s hospital gown was mostly concealed. White would have made it easier for Creed to track him.
“This isn’t very smart, runt! The longer we play hide n’ seek, the more pissed off I get! You’ve seen me pissed off and I don’t think you want to go through it again! Unless, of course, you like having the shit kicked outta you!”
There were a few times during his made dash through the woods that Logan crashed to his knees. Every time he went down, it took him a few seconds longer to get back up. Though he was always able to make it back to his feet, Logan was stumbling more and more. His body was taunting him. His healing factor was working almost as peak performance again, but in order to do so it pulled energy from the rest of his body. Energy that he desperately needed.
Forcing aside the painful ache that was beginning to form in his calves, Logan pushed himself to continue running. He kept going long past the point when he normally would have given up, creating a sporadic path through the woods in hopes of throwing Creed off track.
The only thing that was keeping him going was the image that he carried of Marie in his mind. He had to get back to her. Nothing else mattered but getting back to his Marie. Marie was everything to him and he wasn’t going to give her up for anything.
Marie, please! Logan shouted in his mind, hoping that she would hear him.
The last time he had needed to hear her, Marie’s voice had been there. It had been very distant, barely more than a whisper, but it had been there.
This time there was nothing.
“Marie, I need you.... AAAAAHHHHHHH!! MARIE!!”
Logan went crashing to the ground courtesy of a heavy booted foot to his back. He fell hard, a large rock slamming into his stomach, knocking the air from his lungs. As Logan struggled to regain his breath, he felt someone step on his back. It wasn’t Creed. This person was far too light to be the blonde behemoth. Sure enough, only a few moments later, Logan could see Creed’s large booted feet in front of his face.
Something wet and slimy wrapped around his throat, pulling his head back with the help of Creed’s fist in his hair. All at once, Logan felt the slimy thing closing around his throat painfully. Breathing was becoming increasingly difficult as the serpentine thing closed even tighter.
“Oh God! Help me! Please, help me! Make it stop! Make them-- AAAHHH!!”
Creed’s laughter rumbled deep in his chest. “Having some trouble breathing, runt? You’ll have to excuse Toad. He gets a little carried away at times. Kinda like me. Must be why we get along so well.”
All that Logan could manage were some garbled noises that were supposed to be angry threats. All that Creed and Toad did was laugh at him. That only made Logan more pissed off. He couldn’t be vocal about his anger which only made the situation worse.
“You don’t look very happy, runt. Something bothering ya?” Creed taunted, giving Logan’s head a good shake. “Come on, runt, talk to me. Let me know what’s the matter.”
Logan felt Toad’s leg brush against his hand as he stepped off his back to get better leverage in order to pull his neck back further. Logan waited patiently for him to step back another few inches before he struck.
Releasing the blades from his knuckles, Logan heard the sickening sound of metal slicing through flesh and bone. With a pained scream, Toad fell backwards, releasing Logan’s throat as he did so.
“What the fuck was that?” Creed shouted, stumbled back a few feet. “How in the hell did you get those fuckin’ things in ya? Those sure as hell weren’t there the last time we fought!”
“No... shit....” Logan gasped, struggling to pull in mouthfuls of air. He let his head drop onto the ground, his eyes falling shut as he allowed his breathing to return to its normal pace.
“I wonder if I can pull those things out. They’d make amazing knives,” Creed mused to himself. The blonde was paying no attention to his wounded comrade. Not that Logan had actually expected him to. Creed didn’t care about anything but himself.
Feeling the other man clamp onto his wrists, Logan began squirming in an attempt to pull away from the other man. Logan hadn’t actually seen the device that housed the adamantium claws, but he was pretty sure they didn’t come out easily.
Annoyed, Creed grabbed hold of the back of Logan’s head and slammed it down on the hard ground several times in rapid succession.
When his forehead bounced off a fist-sized rock, Logan was sent hurdling into unconsciousness.
He awoke lying naked on a cold metal floor not unlike the ones back in the facility. Sluggishly lifting his head from the floor, Logan scanned the interior of the room. It certainly wasn’t like any of the rooms he had been in at the compound. There was no medical equipment to be seen.
When he tried to move his arms, Logan felt a pain that he hadn’t been expecting. Glancing down, Logan was shocked by what he saw.
His forearms were a mess of blood and bruises. It was as though someone with no medical experience at all had cut him open to see what was inside his arms. It would have been much simpler for them to wait for him to wake up. He would have told them what had happened.
Deciding to give his arms times to heal before attempting to escape, Logan allowed his head to flop back down onto the metal, uncaring of whether he was comfortable or not.
“Marie....” Logan moaned, pulling her image forth from his mind. If he was going to have any chance of falling asleep, he needed to see her. Marie was his calm.
Ah’m comin’, Logan. Ah swear.
A ghost of a smile appeared on Logan’s face as Marie’s voice echoed in his mind. He realized that he’d needed that more than he’d needed to see her face. Content in the knowledge that Marie was coming for him, Logan allowed himself to drift back into oblivion.
“Time to wake up, Wolverine.”
The cultured voice had barely finished speaking when Logan found himself vaulting into a vertical position. He hovered inches above the ground, his body held immobile by some unseen force.
“What the fuck is going on?” Logan demanded, wanting desperately to see the source of the voice, but unable to turn his head enough.
“Such vulgar language. Really, you are no better than Sabertooth,” the decidedly English voice said, more or less to himself.
“Let me go now or I swear that I’ll--”
Logan’s tirade was cut off as he was thrown across the room, his body impacting painfully against the wall. As he slipped to the floor, Logan got his first glimpse of the man who had captured him.
An old man who reeked of persecution.
“I have a proposition for you, my boy.”