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X-Men: Baptism by Fire
Book Two – Burning Hearts
Prologue - Picking up the Pieces
This morning, Wednesday 18 November, the world awoke to find that its nightmares were all too real. Last night we were too shocked by what we had witnessed to fully comprehend what had happened; now the frightening reality is setting in. Manhattan is still without power. The city’s inhabitants spent the night sheltering behind candles, the city resembling more something out of the war-torn Balkans than the thriving metropolis that is the centre of the western world. And perhaps the comparison is apt. These civilians are the victims of war, that war that characterised the latter half of the twentieth century: the war between Homo sapiens and Homo superior, between human and mutant. Now we stand humbled before the might of the other side’s mightiest general, the terrorist known throughout the world as Magneto. Last night he released an electromagnetic pulse that disabled every electrical device in New York. He has threatened to do the same to every other city on the globe if his demands are not met. His demands are simple: to be proclaimed emperor of the world. How can we fight a man who wields such power? With only seventy-two hours remaining before Magneto’s ultimatum expires the answer is still a mystery. But if a way cannot be found, if we do not stand up to these continuing acts of mutant terrorism then humanity, men and women like ourselves, are doomed.
This is Emma McBain reporting for CNN, just outside of New York.
* * *
Leech hated travelling above ground. He had not always. Once, seemingly so long ago, he had revelled at the chance to play outside, opportunities that had seemed few and far between. He could still remember the joy he had felt running through the trees, the wind in his face, his heart pounding against his tiny chest, remembered the feeling of freedom. Since then, Leech had grown up and discovered that his freedom had only been an illusion.
Not all mutants were the same. Being a mutant meant living in constant fear, fear of prejudice, fear of hatred. Fear of death. But some mutants had a chance. Some were lucky enough not to suffer from physical deformities, to be able to pass for human. They still had to watch everything they did, every word they said. Still had to be careful to avoid the genetic scanners that had become increasingly popular since the Africa Incident and the Copenhagen Treaty that followed. But it was possible for them to lead something that approximated a normal life. That was something Leech could never do.
He caught his reflection in the broken glass in front of an electrical store looters had already plundered. The figure that stared back was only human in outline. It was just short of five foot, hairless, almost amphibian, with large black eyes dominating a round face. Most striking of all, however, was its green skin. And the figure in the glass was Leech. Leech had no way to hide what he was so all he could do was take refuge with his fellow freaks hiding away in the places no human would willingly enter. The freaks called themselves the Morlocks. The Morlocks called Leech their leader.
Which was why he had left the tunnels to brave the surface. They had heard of Magneto’s action and the way it had crippled New York. The city was a looter’s paradise. For many out on the streets this morning, the crisis was a chance to get rich. For the Morlocks, it was a chance to survive.
Electrical goods were of no use so Leech hurried on. There was a car in flames on the street corner. Rival gangs were fighting for possession of a widescreen TV. Leech hoped that the city’s law-abiding citizens were locked safe within their homes. He did not hate humans like some mutants did. He had faith that humanity was not entirely made up of bigots such as those who had reactivated the Sentinel program after all these years. He hated specific humans, those currently in power, those pulling the strings on this campaign of terror, but they were the exception, not the rule. He hoped.
He beckoned his companion, Artie Maddicks, forward and they cautiously approached a store. The automatic doors had been forced open by previous visitors, but Leech hoped there would still be useful items left inside. Artie hung back, so as not to be affected by Leech’s mutant gift, while the green mutant peered through the doorway.
He turned back to Artie and made an OK sign with his fingers. Artie concentrated and a cartoon image of a shopping trolley appeared in the air between them. Leech nodded and Artie went to fetch the trolley. Artie was mute, but his gift allowed him to communicate via pictograms.
The pair hurried through the aisles. Fresh food would spoil and they had no way to keep frozen food frozen, but tinned and packet foods were fair game. They fell upon the shelves like locusts swarming over a new crop. Leech made sure to stuff the pockets of his tattered overcoat with sweets for the youngsters. They had little enough to smile about down below.
They were heading for the exit, when Leech paused. There was a brightly-coloured toy train in then window. Artie screwed up his face and the image of a young blonde girl coalesced out of thin air. She was wearing a frayed pink party frock and had red ribbons in her hair. In another universe she might have been pretty, but here it was not to be. She had two eyes, two ears, a nose and a mouth the same as any other five year-old, but they had been arranged on her face seemingly at random, creating a grotesque worthy of the greatest surrealist painter.
‘Dawn,’ Leech said and Artie nodded. Dawn was a Morlock, part of Leech’s tribe. More than that, since her parent’s died, Dawn had become Leech’s adopted daughter. Dawn would love the train.
Leech left the store with the train in his arms, Artie bringing the fully loaded trolley behind him. They ran through the streets as quickly and quietly as possible, looking for a subway entrance. Once below ground they would be safe, or as safe as it was possible to be these days.
Leech stopped suddenly and the trolley impacted with his back, Artie being unable to stop it in time. Artie began to apologise, but Leech waved him down and pointed across the street. Three looters were attacking a woman for the bag of groceries she carried. She was on the ground, arms around her head, while they kicked her in the stomach.
‘Get this to Morlocks,’ Leech instructed. ‘Leech will deal with them.’
Artie looked about to protest, but Leech was not about to argue so he hurried off down the street. Leech never took his eyes from the looters, even as he set the train on the ground and removed his sling from within his coat.
His first stone struck the biggest looter on the back of the head.
‘Hey you!’ Leech shouted. ‘Leech wants to know what you think you’re doing.’
‘Just taking what’s ours, freak,’ the big guy responds. ‘Survival of the fittest, you know.’
‘Leech knows. Leech is a mutant. Leech is the fittest.’ Leech sent two more stones whizzing between the looters. ‘Unless you’d like to prove Leech wrong.’
A red-haired looter with a ponytail laughed at him. ‘We don’t need to prove anything to a nut who talks to himself in the third-person.’
A sharp stone struck ponytail right between the eyes, drawing blood. Leech could not help the way he talked.
‘Still want to play, huh?’ Ponytail demanded, turning his full attention to the mutant. Leech turned and ran.
Leech sprinted round the corner into an alleyway between two buildings. Ponytail followed…and slammed his face into a trashcan lid Leech had ready for him. He slid to the ground and Leech dragged him out of the way.
‘Hey, Joey,’ one of the others – a fat guy with a crowbar – called, ‘did you get him?’
Big guy shushed him with a hand and they two of them