Sequel: Life After Death ›
Status: Sequel, Life After Death, is currently posted!
Accidents Can Happen
Chapter 33
After catching my breath, which didn’t take as long as I excepted it to, I ran down the narrow concrete stairs where I saw Logan and the woman talking. The woman still had a look of anxiousness on her face but other than that she seemed relatively at ease. Logan was the first to notice me as I stumbled my way towards them. "What the hell happened to you?" Logan said as he looked at my blood drenched clothes. I was certain I looked horrible; probably like a person trying to survive a horror movie and failing.
"Don't ask." I said simply.
Logan looked as through he was going to ask again and demand an answer but he was cut short when the woman said, "Logan, my sister." Her voice was pleading and almost apologetic. Logan gave her a soft nod before we followed him into a tunnel shaped room. Our footsteps echoed eerily off the concrete floor and red brick walls as we ran into a room full of prison cells. Each cell had a mutant, many of them young, locked inside. All were dressed in the same bland red jumpsuits. Each cell had a small electrical lock on the front. Before I could offer my help, Logan unleashed his claws and started down the row. His claws cut through the metal locks like they were water and the cells doors swung open. Each time Logan’s claw collided with a lock a spray of orange sparks flew into the air before burning out.
The woman quickly followed him into the row of cells but stop half way through. She was hugging one of the prisoners; a blond girl that was probably a few years older than me. I followed the flow of newly released prisoners towards the end of the row. “Hey, girlie! You wanna help me out here.” The voice came from the cell to my right. The owner was a kid, maybe about a year or two older than me, with blonde, almost pure white, hair. He was hanging about a foot from the floor in a complicated looking white harness. Another wave of familiarity ran over me as I looked into his bright blue eyes. “Hello! Is there anybody in there?” The kid said with an implacable European accent.
I ignored his comments as I unbuckled the straps on the harness with a quick wave of my bloody hand. Just as soon as he hit the ground he was right back on his feet. Then he was standing next to me outside his cell. He patted me on the head before saying, “Thanks, cutie.” A soft wind blew my hair into different directions are he magically appeared by the exit where the rest of the prisoners were gathered. I shook my head as I ran down the row to join them. I pushed my way though the small crowed to Logan, who was standing at the front of the group. I stayed by his side as we lead the others out of the cell block. We then entered a much larger room; one with a large metal sliding door that lead outside. The door was slowly starting to slide open as we walk towards it. Logan and I stopped as daylight showed through the opening in the door. As the door continued to open a figure started to walk through the growing space between the two door panels.
A man dressed in nothing but dark red pajama pants walked slowly though the doors and into the room. His skin was a sickly pale color and light reflected off his shaved head. His chest was outlined in black surgical marker. His face was deformed; the skin around his eyes looked like it had been pulled back and he had no mouth. Instead there was just clean pale skin. It was only when I looked at his face that I realized who it was. Wade Wilson was no longer his funny sarcastic self. He appeared to be just an empty shell.
“Wade? Is that you?” Logan said calmly. Wade didn’t respond, not that he could. He just kept the same blank expression as he continued to walk towards us. He stopped about a hundred feet from us. Sensing danger Logan said, “Kayla, get the kids out of here. Find another way out.” The woman gave a quick nod before ordering the others to follow her. They turned around and went back the way we came. Logan and I were now alone with the zombie-like Wade. “Lorna, there’s a computer in his brain that Stryker implanted. See if you can shut it down.” Logan said quietly, giving me a serious look.
“You want me to do brain surgery?” I said in shock. Logan just gave me a look. “Okay. Just remember: You asked.” Now that I focused, I could sense metal in Wade’s body but not just his brain. Adamantium lined his entire skeleton much like Logan’s. When I reached his head I could sense small electrical devices placed in his brain but before I could disarm them my own head was engulfed in pain. I feel to one knee as I put my hands around my head. It felt as though a thousand burning knives where being pushed into my head. I thought my head was going into explode. But just as fast as it came it disappeared leaving only a soft arching feeling. Still on the ground I whispered, “Bad idea.”
“Go help the others.” Logan said calmly. I was happy to oblige. I wasn’t sure what I would do if I had to fight Wade. I doubt I would have been able to do it, even through it wasn’t really Wade, just his body. I turned and ran back into the cell block, looking for the others. I took a left and opened the closest door, which lead into a long tunnel like hallway. It was probably just a service hallway because it appeared to be unfinished with all the exposed wires and poor lighting. Water dripped slowly from a hole in the ceiling forming a puddle on the dirty floor. I followed the dark corridor until it forked off into two different directions; left and right. Each path looked the same; long and gloomy. After staring down each hallway I went right without much thought.
"Don't ask." I said simply.
Logan looked as through he was going to ask again and demand an answer but he was cut short when the woman said, "Logan, my sister." Her voice was pleading and almost apologetic. Logan gave her a soft nod before we followed him into a tunnel shaped room. Our footsteps echoed eerily off the concrete floor and red brick walls as we ran into a room full of prison cells. Each cell had a mutant, many of them young, locked inside. All were dressed in the same bland red jumpsuits. Each cell had a small electrical lock on the front. Before I could offer my help, Logan unleashed his claws and started down the row. His claws cut through the metal locks like they were water and the cells doors swung open. Each time Logan’s claw collided with a lock a spray of orange sparks flew into the air before burning out.
The woman quickly followed him into the row of cells but stop half way through. She was hugging one of the prisoners; a blond girl that was probably a few years older than me. I followed the flow of newly released prisoners towards the end of the row. “Hey, girlie! You wanna help me out here.” The voice came from the cell to my right. The owner was a kid, maybe about a year or two older than me, with blonde, almost pure white, hair. He was hanging about a foot from the floor in a complicated looking white harness. Another wave of familiarity ran over me as I looked into his bright blue eyes. “Hello! Is there anybody in there?” The kid said with an implacable European accent.
I ignored his comments as I unbuckled the straps on the harness with a quick wave of my bloody hand. Just as soon as he hit the ground he was right back on his feet. Then he was standing next to me outside his cell. He patted me on the head before saying, “Thanks, cutie.” A soft wind blew my hair into different directions are he magically appeared by the exit where the rest of the prisoners were gathered. I shook my head as I ran down the row to join them. I pushed my way though the small crowed to Logan, who was standing at the front of the group. I stayed by his side as we lead the others out of the cell block. We then entered a much larger room; one with a large metal sliding door that lead outside. The door was slowly starting to slide open as we walk towards it. Logan and I stopped as daylight showed through the opening in the door. As the door continued to open a figure started to walk through the growing space between the two door panels.
A man dressed in nothing but dark red pajama pants walked slowly though the doors and into the room. His skin was a sickly pale color and light reflected off his shaved head. His chest was outlined in black surgical marker. His face was deformed; the skin around his eyes looked like it had been pulled back and he had no mouth. Instead there was just clean pale skin. It was only when I looked at his face that I realized who it was. Wade Wilson was no longer his funny sarcastic self. He appeared to be just an empty shell.
“Wade? Is that you?” Logan said calmly. Wade didn’t respond, not that he could. He just kept the same blank expression as he continued to walk towards us. He stopped about a hundred feet from us. Sensing danger Logan said, “Kayla, get the kids out of here. Find another way out.” The woman gave a quick nod before ordering the others to follow her. They turned around and went back the way we came. Logan and I were now alone with the zombie-like Wade. “Lorna, there’s a computer in his brain that Stryker implanted. See if you can shut it down.” Logan said quietly, giving me a serious look.
“You want me to do brain surgery?” I said in shock. Logan just gave me a look. “Okay. Just remember: You asked.” Now that I focused, I could sense metal in Wade’s body but not just his brain. Adamantium lined his entire skeleton much like Logan’s. When I reached his head I could sense small electrical devices placed in his brain but before I could disarm them my own head was engulfed in pain. I feel to one knee as I put my hands around my head. It felt as though a thousand burning knives where being pushed into my head. I thought my head was going into explode. But just as fast as it came it disappeared leaving only a soft arching feeling. Still on the ground I whispered, “Bad idea.”
“Go help the others.” Logan said calmly. I was happy to oblige. I wasn’t sure what I would do if I had to fight Wade. I doubt I would have been able to do it, even through it wasn’t really Wade, just his body. I turned and ran back into the cell block, looking for the others. I took a left and opened the closest door, which lead into a long tunnel like hallway. It was probably just a service hallway because it appeared to be unfinished with all the exposed wires and poor lighting. Water dripped slowly from a hole in the ceiling forming a puddle on the dirty floor. I followed the dark corridor until it forked off into two different directions; left and right. Each path looked the same; long and gloomy. After staring down each hallway I went right without much thought.