Breadcrumb Trails

[Tess Abrahams]

The corner of Clinton and Atlantic was an irredeemably scummy little crossing that looked like a set from a Scorsese film. It was a good place to get shot. It was a good place to hire a prostitute. It was a great place to score a hit. At the best of times there was only a pretty good chance of getting mugged.

It was definitely not the sort of place that a young, unaccompanied teenage girl wanted to be. Tess Abrahams, a young and unaccompanied teenage girl, knew that all too well. Keeping her eyes trained on the pavement, she ignored the catcalls and stares that were directed her way as she walked briskly in what she hoped was the right direction.

Somehow in the twenty minutes since she'd called Spectre, the mutant girl had managed to get hopelessly lost. Though she could navigate through miles of unmarked timberlands with ease and confidence, Tess was no match for the concrete jungle of the city. It completely disoriented her.

I wish Jas was here. She'd know. Wincing, Tess glanced at the little slip of paper where she'd scrawled the name of the street she was supposed to find. It did little to reveal which direction to try, but it did shake her to her senses. There was no way she could ask anyone out here for help--they'd just as soon take her to some dank little basement than guide her to the rendezvous point.

The first payphone she found was useless; the cord had been severed and the receiver was gone. It wasn't until two blocks later that Tess found a small Vietnamese market with a cordless that the manager, a tiny suspicious woman, allowed her (reluctantly and after much begging) to use. She scuffled to the back of the shop, glancing over her shoulder at the woman who was watching intently.

This was stupid. It was so ill-planned and hasty and if she were smart she'd just--

"Hello?"

"Hi! Spectre, it's Tess." Tess grimaced at a package of tiny, dried crabs. "I'm lost. Really, really lost."

"It's alright." The woman's voice was soothing, and the girl felt immediately better. "Where are you, do you know the street name?"

"This little market on Atlantic. Phe Sua, or something. A few blocks west of Clinton."

There was silence and something in her stomach twisted.

"Do not leave the store. Someone will be there within the hour."

[Michael Lawston]

It was a peaceful night and warm night in the country side. A light breeze wove in and out of the tree carry a honey-sweet scent with it. From high above the silvery light of the moon trickled through the branches to create a mosaic of light and dark along the forest floor. No trace of industry or the smog of the city marred the land or air. It was an altogether perfect evening if one believes in such things.

But the tranquility was broken by the rumble of a motorcycle recklessly tearing around the country roads. The bike and rider, with his worn leather jacket, faded jeans, and no helmet what-so-ever dispelled any sort of peace an observer might have had. On the aged Harley, Michael wore an annoyed expression as the wind tore at his hair.

With a piercing squeal he skidded the bike to a halt, clamping a mobile phone to his ear.

“You want me to what?”

This was NOT the night for him to be running errands for that white-haired spook or any of Saladin’s lackeys. Michael had come out here for personal reasons and the eccentric mutant had not gotten the information he wanted. For once all he wanted to do was head back to the mansion and sleep…something he almost never did anymore.

Come on Arsenal. The poor girl is completely lost and scared; it well over a day to the city and back to the mansion. Arsenal was just about to cut a response back about Spectre’s issues being none of business, but…. “Besides, you haven’t done anything for the Brotherhood recently.”

Anger rose up inside of him, Michael had done far more for Saladin and his cause than he’d ever intended to in the first case. He glanced over his shoulder back towards the city, in the distance he could see the glow of the skyline lighting up the sky and sat a moment staring back.

“Arsenal, are yo…..”

“Yeah, I’ll go pick her.” The phone vanished in a spark of silver; there would be no more interruptions from the ‘Boss’ tonight.

The trip back took longer than the hour Spectre had told Tess it would despite the relatively light traffic at such a late hour. But Arsenal honestly had no idea where the Phe Sua market was and had the ditch the bike in favor of walking.

In any case Tess certainly had stumbled her way into the cesspool of what urban living had to offer, Michael almost wondered if he’d actually find trussed up in the back of an ally. But he did finally find the place without directions; it seemed even the unsavory types stayed away from the rugged looking man with dark wind-whipped hair.

“Hey you, we are closed!” Apparently the shifty-eyed woman in charge of the store had the same idea about him. Michael was fairly sure that her hand was hovering near the panic button.

“Look lady, I’m really not in a mood for drama; just looking for someone.” He dropped a handful of bills on the table that just appeared in his hand, though the woman was too busy focusing on his face to notice the peculiar thing.

“Eighty for your trouble. A young woman came in here and used the phone a bit over an hour ago, she still here?”

[Tess Abrahams]

The woman surrepetitiously tucked the bills under the collar of her flowered blouse (Macy's, $21.99--such a bargain!) and gave Arsenal another pinched glare. She wasn't happy about the loitering girl but at least she was pretty and might entice someone to step inside. This man, he was different; such a hooligan was no good for business and the money he'd given her did little to soften her hostility.

"Toi chang co y kien gi ca." The shopwoman shrugged and began to roll little fortunes into tubes. "Try bathroom. Stupid girl get scared of loud noise; bang! Think it gunshot. Hmmph. Just Lhan Minh's car backfire."

With that she abruptly swept the tiny scrolls into a small box and carried them to a display at the other end of the counter.

[Michael Lawston]

Michael was not all surprised by Tess’s reaction in such a strange setting. He had typed her almost instantly as innocent, no that wasn’t right, naïve fit much better, in the brief moment he’d observed her at the mansion. She was out of her element when it came to the street, he almost pitied her.
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“Cám ơn” The woman blinked in surprise as Michael’s turned his back with a bit of a smirk.<o></o>
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He left her slightly confused at his use of Vietnamese and made his way to the rear of the store. For being located in such a downtrodden neighborhood, the store seemed to be decently supplied. Shelves and open bins held a variety of foods and spices unique to Vietnamese cuisine.<o></o>
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“Tess Abrahams…” Michael rapped on the door to the single unisex bathroom with his knuckles. “…Spectre sent me.”

[Tess Abrahams]

There was a shuffling sound as if someone had been sitting against the door and had just gotten up. Then a girls voice, although the bathroom remained closed.

"Oh thank goodness, this block has got to be the creepiest," A brief clicking sound announced the lock being turned, "Place I've been in a long time. Not that it was part of the plan to come here or anything but you know..."

The door was finally pulled open and Tess stood there, relief obviously readable on her face. One look at Michael, however, stilled her. The teenager blanched; perhaps she was safer back in the restroom.

"Spectre sent you?"

[Michael Lawston]

Oh great, she had an attitude to boot. Last time he’d do anything for Spectre, but whatever, Michael had made a promise and would follow through (moreso for the reason he didn’t feel like the ghost-lady getting mad and messing around in his head than any loyalty to her) ….even if he had to through Tess over his shoulder and tie her to the bike.

Michael glared at the teenager staring at him like he was evil incarnate. Then of course the last time she had seen him he’d been sharpening a sword at the mansion.

“Yeah, I’m not too happy about it myself. But I’ll be happy to leave you here, someone else could probably be around in a few hours.”
Arsenal looked towards the front of the restaurant where the Korean woman was keeping a wary eye on them.

“Of course, she’ll probably close the store before then and you’ll just end up outside again.”

[Tess Abrahams]

Tess shot the man the most withering look she could manage, which didn't seem to do much beyond bounce off his own surly expression, and gracefully squeezed past him. "That would inconvenience everyone. Let's just get out of here."

The woman behind the counter looked very smug at their leaving, but it wasn't worth the trouble to say anything and so Tess loped out onto to the street. Out here, at least, the rowdy appearance of... whatever his name was, could serve as a protection. No one in their right mind would bother him. The girl set her small bag and her feet and surveyed the street with crossed arms.

"So." Tess looked around. "Where's your car?"

[Michael Lawston]

Michael snorted at the spite filled look that Tess sent in his direction as she stalked past him. As if some lost girl who hid in a bathroom could even hope of having getting him to blink. It was like mouse trying to threaten a lion, it just plain didn’t did work.


He trailed behind her in his amusement as they left the market. The night air had cooled since Tess had first taken shelter and a brisk wind whipped along the tightly packed buildings. Despite the chill, Arsenal did not seem to be affected at all. He reached his hands behind his back, the joints audibly popping as he stretched.

“Car?” He turned his head and a series of cracking sounds came from his neck. Aresenal grinned at the girl. “Don’t have a car.”

His hand hovered over the edge sidewalk. In the dark Tess could see that Michael’s fingers seemed to be coated in some shiny metalic substance that gave off a slight glow. Suddenly sparks shot between his fingers caused the her to jump and in a flash of light a worn a beaten Harley-Davidson now rested in the street.

“Is that all the lugage you have?”

[Tess Abrahams]

"No way." Tess shook her head and backed away, clutching her bag to her chest. "There is no way I'm getting on that thing. It's an accident waiting to happen. Per-mile driven, bikers and their passengers are twenty times as likely to die in an accident."

Not to mention the fact that the bike had sprung from his fingertips.

[Michael Lawston]

“Oh for….” Michael sighed in exasperation and rested a hand over his eyes. Great, she was a safety nut as well; he was going to kill Spectre back at the mansion. He was just about ready to give up and leave the girl. Arsenal dropped his hand and straddled the cycle, the keys appearing in his hands with a flash of silver.<o></o>
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“Well that case I guess we just won’t get into an accident.” The incredulous expression told him that she was far from amused. Something gave way in him, despite his annoyances, he did feel sympathy for the girl.<o>
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“Alright look, I’ve never crashed a bike. Injury and me tend to make things explode, I am not going to wreck the bike.” He held out a hand with a conjured helmet for the girl, it wasn’t much protection with what Tess was wearing, but at least she wouldn’t crack her head open and might get her to get on the bike.<o></o>
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[Tess Abrahams]

There was a stubborn tilt to her chin but before Tess could refuse again a motley bunch of teens slithered out of a nearby alley. They were pierced in ever concievable place and looked strung out. One of them eyed her up and down with a grin.

In one smooth motion Tess slipped her backpack on and snatched the helmet from Arsenal. It's straps took a few minutes to fasten, but she wouldn't let him help.

"You'd better go the speed limit." Tess muttered as she swung a leg over the bike and wrapped her arms around Michael's waist, gripping as tight as she could.

[Michael Lawston]

Arsenal suspiciously kept an eye on the trash sneaking alongside the shadows as Tess spent her way fumbling around with the helmet. There were enough of them that they might be getting gutsy ideas in their thick skulls. Michael knew the type well.
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When Tess settle herself on the bike behind him, the idiots decided to make a move. But Arsenal just smirked and raised a hand, bright sparks shot between his fingers. He could have called anything into existence, but the display was enough to freak the creeps out.
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He turned back to the bike laughing and put the keys into the ignition. He glanced over his shoulder with a grin.
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“I’m Michael.” Turning back without waiting for her response, Arsenal revved the engine. Speed limit? Forget that. The bike kicked up dirt as the wheels screeched on the pavement and Tess had to grab onto Michael for dear life.

[Tess Abrahams]

The bike whipped along the streets, weaving through traffic, at an astonishing pace. Tess would have screamed, but she couldn't decided if she was totally exhilerated or completely terrified. At any rate, the girl squeezed her eyes shut tightly and tried not to think about defective engine parts or hydroplaning.

While it hadn't been a notably chilly night it wasn't exactly warm either, and riding on the back of a motorcycle with only a thin sweatshirt for protection didn't help matters. When her hands started to go numb from the cold, Tess gave in and reached down, tucking them up into the folds of Michael's leather jacket.

It seemed to take forever before they left the crowded city and turned onto a rural access road. Tess breathed easier; there was less to collide with now. She had no idea how much time had passed, but it was long enough for her rear to fall asleep and her inner thighs to stiffen from straddling the seat with such force. It would be a relief to arrive at the artfully secluded mansion.

With no chance of being heard above the roar of the wind and engine, the mutant decided not to ask how much longer it would be, and hunkered down, using Arsenal's bulk as a shield against the elements. They would get there when they got there. Nothing she said would change that, and Tess certainly didn't want the guy to drive any faster.

[Michael Lawston]

By now the city and civilization were left far behind and it didn’t matter whether Arsenal careened around corners at break neck speeds. But the mutant had well eased off the gas since traffic had thinned to almost nothing and the bike and its two passengers cruised along peacefully, or at least compared to the maneuvers they’d been pulling in the city.

The pair were just beginning to enter the rolling foothills of the Appalachians when the sun’s rays peaked over the horizon and the light danced through the light morning fog. Michael felt Tess stir against his back, she had nodded off at some point despite her original terror. In the chill of the early air she unconsciously pulled herself closer to Michael for warmth.

He smiled as the wind still whipped at his hair, completely undeterred at the cold. At a thought, he pulled the bike over at a small country convenience store several more minutes down the road. Michael was hungry and certainly Tess was as well, not to mention that sleeping on the Harley probably wasn’t the most comfortable thing and a moment of relief would be welcome for the girl.

Michael pulled the bike to a stop at a pump, the gas gauge was looking rather low as well, and cut out the engine.

“Morning.”

[Tess Abrahams]

"Wha'?" Tess asked groggily, blinking in the bright sunlight. She scrubbed at her eyes and yawned as she glanced around in confusion. It took her a moment to register that they were stopped for gas.

Gingerly she removed herself from the back of the bike, groaning as her inner thighs protested movement after being flexed for so long in one position. Without thinking Tess dropped to the ground, pulling her legs up and over her head until they bent at the knee--in the wrong direction--and were flat against her back.

"Ohhhhh," The girl moaned in pleasure. She rocked back and forth for a moment before unfolding and standing up. Her stomach growled. "I'm starving."

She seemed to have forgotten her earlier venom towards Michael and after wasting a few seconds watching as he silently pumped gas into his bike, Tess shrugged and walked towards the store.

Inside there were a few shelves littered with knick-knacks--nothing anyone under seventy-five would buy--and a row of glass jars filled with cigars. She made a face at those. There was a coffee machine near the back though, and beside it a wicker basket of granola bars and wrapped pastries. Tess gratefully poured herself a styrofoam cup of the brew and picked up a granola bar, flipping it over to read the back of the package. She frowned.

"Excuse me?" Tess called up to the grizzled man sitting behind the counter. He raised kindly but stern blue eyes to look at her and raised his eyebrows. Tess waggled the bar. "Do you have anything organic?"

[Michael Lawston]

Michael’s eyes widened as he watched Tess pull what should have snapped half the bones in her body. In his time he had seen dozens of disturbing powers from, multiple limbs and unnatural growths to shedding skin and what could only be called walking piles of ooze. But that had to be one of the most sickening displays of contortion Michael had ever been graced with; his eyes followed Tess’s path as she entered the store…..it was probably one of the more enticing displays of contortion at the same time.
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A grin crossed Arsenal’s face as his mind wandered to thoughts that would earn him well more than a beating. And then gas spilled over the lip of the tank while he was distracted from the task and thoroughly soaked his arm with the putrid liquid.
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“Oh hell!”
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Fuming, Arsenal slammed the cap closed and tossed the nozzle into its holder. He always grumbled about Tron and Greyon (and even Spectre now with her fawning over the mute boy) losing focus around the opposite sex. And here he was pouring gasoline over himself watching after some nature-nut-pain-in-the-neck girl who could bend a bit.
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Grabbing a towel from the service racks, Michael made his way into the store grumbling and smelling of petroleum. He caught sight of Tess asking some nonsense about organic foods. The Brotherhood mutant shook his head and made his way straight for the beef jerky aisle.

[Tess Abrahams]

They did not have organic. In fact, the man fixed her with such a stare that Tess mumbled not to worry about it and stuck the granola bar back. Wandering the aisles of the little mart produced a bag of apple chips--they weren't organic, but they had a whole lot less preservatives in them. Tess settled for those and a withered looking banana from a basket on the counter.

She paid and then grimaced at Michael as he walked up behind her with an armful of meat.

"Wow - dried flesh, how delicious." Tess loftily unpeeled her banana and took a huge bite. It was too mushy to be really enjoyable, but she suffered through it like a saint. Ignoring the death glare that Michael gave her, she walked outside and sat down at a little wooden picnic table. She heard the bell above the door tinkle and knew it was Arsenal.

"Meat gives you cancer, you know." Tess fussed with the bag of apple chips, which did not want to open. "And it's hardly the best source of protein."

[Michael Lawston]

“Meat causes cancer?” Michael laughed as he tossed the bag of beef jerky onto the table. He eyed the bag of chips that were giving the patronizing teen so much trouble. With a flick of the wrist a small dagger appeared out of nowhere and neatly sliced a hole through the bag still in her hands and stuck in the table on the way through. “So does smoking, asbestos, viruses, sunlight, genetics, radiation, plastic surgery, and I’m pretty sure so does several tons of matter worth energy.”
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Arsenal sat down on the opposite seat and yanked the knife out of the table. His free hand waved over the table sparking silver; several more edible substances and drink fell to the surface, none of it organic save perhaps a bottle of water. “I’ll probably explode or get killed before cancer sets in so who cares.” Michael nodded his head to the meager meal she had in her possession. “And it beats starving because of being a picky eater.”
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He cut a sliver of jerky with the sharp blade grinning at the wide-eyed look on Tess’s face at the blade. “That’s an interesting ability you have there. Wear a tighter shirt next time.” Arsenal grinned and popped the food into his mouth.

[Tess Abrahams]

Tess recovered quickly from the unexpected appearance of the knife, and shot Michael a withering look, one that only a thoroughly disgusted and infinitely more mature person could manage. "I'm not a picky eater, I just have principles. And you're a perv."

She shook out the last crumbs of her apple chips and neatly disposed of the bag in a nearby trashcan. Eying the brightening horizon, she began to absently stretch before thinking better of it; with Arsenal around she was going to have to put up with tight muscles.

"How much farther do we have to go, anyway?" Tess asked, flopping back down on the bench and pushing a packet of beef jerky away from her with the tip of a pinky finger.

[Michael Lawston]

Arsenal leaned back, taking amusement in Tess’s discomfort and took a massive bite from the jerky. The man seemed to jump from one mannerism to another as if he had too much energy than he knew what to focus on despite his rather apathetic persona.

“Not much farther.” Michael spoke between grinding his teeth into the tough meat "Mountain roads turn into gravel and make it a pain in the... .... though.”

He finished chewing and washed it down with a massive swig from a bottle of water. A look came to the gruff man’s eyes as he noisily ‘clunked’ the bottle back onto the table.

“Why in such a rush?” A smirk showed on his face. “You want to get away from me that bad? Or is it something to do with those principles of yours?” Though he spoke the word with a sneer as if it offended him.

[Tess Abrahams]

If looks could kill...

"Because, believe it or not, riding for three hours on the back of your bike isn't nearly as big a thrill for me as it is for you." Tess retorted hotly. She drew in a long breath of the pine-scented air, letting it out slowly.

"It's been a long night." She shook her head. "I'm just anxious to get somewhere safe and quiet."

Which certainly - obviously - isn't with you.

[Michael Lawston]

The tone of voice Tess used with him made it clear that she was far from impressed with Arsenal and his ‘assistance’.
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For a while Arsenal fell back to his usual stoic attitude and drank from one of the bottles. He honestly had no idea why he was being so talkative. She was even half as amusing as it was terrifying Tron.
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He gulped down a final mouthful to wash the last of the food down. “Where you lived before wasn’t safe and quiet?”

[Tess Abrahams]

"Yes. No. I don't know!" Tess shook her head irritably and looked away, watching the morning sun do spectacular things through the mottled treeline. Arsenal had stepped into a veritable bees nest of a conversation, and a million sharp remarks buzzed through the teenagers head before she took a calming breath.

He didn't deserve to get caught in the backlash of something that had nothing do with him.

Tangling one hand in her mussed hair, she shrugged. "It just wasn't working out anymore."