wolvverine (wolvverine) wrote in x_2012, @ 2010-11-20 21:54:00 |
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Entry tags: | wolverine |
A rescue, of sorts
Who: Wolverine, Rube, Counterfeit
What: The Haven catches a break, Bryan comes home
When: Saturday mid-afternoon
Where: On the road, then Mountain Medical Services, Saranac Lake, NY
Warnings: Strong language and profanity. Violence is likely.
Logan still didn't know how to feel about letting Karr go, however, lucky for him, he was too busy scouring the countryside chasing down clues and trails and scents to really worry about anything other than the task immediately at hand. He would have plenty of time on his hands to brood or drink himself into a stupor (or try with all his might, since his healing factor didn't allow him to get truly drunk) once Laura was safe in the Haven. He had given up on anyone else understanding his obsession. They didn't have children involved in this. However, he had seen someone who could understand his need to find a loved one.
Reed Jensen was a good man. A baseline human who had moved to the Haven out of loyalty and solidarity to his little brother, Bryan. Even though Bryan was the little punk who'd been sniffing after Laura and the one who had managed to get himself captured with her, Logan wasn't about to hold that against Reed. Reed was a good man, an upstanding guy, and a genius. He had helped Logan narrow down possibilities and finally today had gone on the road with him. If they did find anything they couldn't handle themselves, teleporters were only a call away, with all team members on call as well.
However, they weren't going to stalk any big secret government facilities today. Instead, the trail had led to a series of John Does that had washed downriver after an undisclosed accident across one or several of the waterways in the Saranac Lake system. It had been odd enough and specific enough that Logan and Reed had decided to check it out. It had all started with a random voice, some trucker on the CB radio.
........................................
"A buncha bears in the Air over Saranac Lake, folks. The County Mounty just blew my doors off. Whoah, and there go the meat wagons. Looks like big fishing over on the lake. Sure sounds like a 10-33 on the water there," said the voice on the old-school CB radio Logan had on his tricked out truck. From the outside, no one would see anything too flashy, but on the inside, Logan had picked a model the brains at the Haven had outfitted with all manner of hi-tech communications devices. He could even track GPS with this thing.
"They found bodies, sounds like. There's choppers and cops and ambulances, which means there were survivors," Logan had said. "That's a couple hours north of here, but it's closer than Bumfuck, Connecticut or wherever we were going. Worth checking out."
Their earlier leads had brought them to a dead end, and their next available lead was across the state line. Maybe this was a good thing. It surely sounded suspicious. He turned the radio to the police frequency to see if they could catch some more details on the way even as he took the next exit.
That had been much earlier that morning. It was now early in the afternoon, and they had just left the Adirondack Medical Center shaken up. The bodies had been monstrously deformed in some cases, and mutilated in most. They had one survivor, who was in critical condition and wasn't supposed to last the day. Ten others had died in the time it took Reed and Logan to get there.
But they had caught a small break. The ER at Adirondack had been so overwhelmed, they had learned there had indeed been one or two survivors whose injuries were not life-threatening and so they had been rerouted to the Saranac Lake Facility of Mountain Medical Services, an urgent care services clinic elsewhere on the mountain range.