บท 19: Chapter 18
The engine idled louder and louder, echoing through the valley.
Three motorcycles positioned themselves around a lone figure—Laura—encircling her like a trap. The men, rough and unkempt in dirty clothes, leered at her, laughing maliciously.
"Haha, haven't seen such a pretty girl in ages!"
"Looks young, like she's fresh meat," sneered another.
"Any idea what kind of variant she is? Never seen one like her," one murmured, scratching his head.
"Who cares? She ran when she saw us, didn't she? Can't be that tough," grinned another.
"Just don't scratch her up, alright? She'll fetch more that way," one added casually.
The men seemed utterly at ease, underestimating her completely. One man with a scruffy beard stepped off his bike, twirling a short knife as he approached her. As he drew near, he smirked, reaching out to touch her face with a greasy hand.
Swish!
A flash of steel claws, and in an instant, Laura's claws pierced up through his jaw, puncturing his head.
Blood spattered as she yanked her claws free, crouching in an attack stance, her eyes fierce. She'd taken one down, making the fight a bit easier. But when she looked up, she was surprised—the remaining four men on their bikes looked completely unbothered.
Something was wrong. She wasn't new to combat—after Wolverine's death, she'd led mutant teenagers in battle and learned to read an enemy's reactions. Yet these men weren't angry, shocked, or even fazed. Instead, they smiled in strange satisfaction.
"The ability's confirmed."
"Yep, looks like a Wolverine variant."
"Self-healing factor, that's annoying."
"Too bad we can't use an electromagnetic device in the woods, would've made dealing with those adamantium bones a lot simpler," one of them mused casually.
The corpse at her feet faded, blood and all, vanishing like a mirage. Laura tensed, bewildered by the bizarre scene.
One man on a bike turned to the others. "Alright, who's next?"
"Not me; hurts too much," one muttered.
Another man sighed, "Alright, I'll go!"
A freckled man in his twenties jumped off his bike and charged straight toward her. Laura was stunned. Knowing her abilities, why would he willingly engage in close combat?
But she didn't hesitate. Dodging and slashing, she struck him down, piercing his neck. Another successful kill.
Yet, as his body hit the ground, it vanished instantly. Another illusion.
One more man left his bike and charged at her. Are they just trying to wear me down? she wondered, attacking and cutting him down too, yet his body disappeared just as quickly.
When a third attacker lunged, Laura instinctively aimed for a weak spot, sinking her claws into him with a satisfying thud—but this time, a burst of yellow smoke exploded from his wound, enveloping her before she could react. As she inhaled, her body went numb, collapsing to the ground.
"Heh, finally caught you," one of the men jeered from his bike, his eyes gleaming with triumph.
Desperately, Laura tried to stand, but her strength failed. A wave of despair washed over her—the poison blocked her healing factor. She was powerless.
As the man sauntered over, pride in his eyes, he sneered, "I've watched you fight enough to figure out your move patterns. Just as I thought—you aimed right for the heart. This poison's tailor-made for self-healers like you."
"Magician's work, truly effective stuff," he added smugly.
The man leaned close, grinning as he introduced himself. "Jimmy Madrox. The name ring a bell? My power is clone duplication."
"Jimmy?" she asked, recognizing the name faintly. "Are you…a mutant? I've read about you in X-Men."
Jimmy smirked. "You've got it wrong. I'm Brotherhood. That comic stuff is a joke."
As he leaned in, Laura took her chance, driving a clawed foot straight up, puncturing his skull. Jimmy's eyes widened in shock before he collapsed, his body disappearing.
Laura exhaled shakily, utterly spent. But just as relief began to set in, she heard more motorcycle engines revving up in the distance.
Seconds later, another pair of men arrived at the valley entrance. One of them laughed mockingly, "Oh, finally wore yourself out, huh?"
The two men sauntered over, their smug confidence making her heart sink. One of them, an older man with deep-set wrinkles, gave Jimmy an approving look. "Impressive, Madrox. Took down a Wolverine variant with just your clones! That's some talent."
"You're too kind," Jimmy replied, suppressing a smirk.
Laura's eyes dimmed as her last flicker of strength faded, leaving her helpless. As one man reached out, she thought back to the strong, warm arms that had held her the night before—a rare moment of comfort and safety. Maybe she should have sought his help. But just as quickly, she scolded herself. Her own carelessness had led to this.
She sighed, accepting her fate, and shut her eyes.
Suddenly, a familiar, teasing voice echoed through the valley.
"Move that hand any lower, and I'll rip your soul out. Believe it?"
Laura's eyes snapped open, confused. Was that him?
The voice came again, sharp and taunting. "Sorry, but as her boyfriend, I can't let you take her."
The man's greasy hand retreated as he and his accomplices turned to see who had spoken. And there he was—Russell, standing tall, watching her captors with a mischievous smile.
Laura's heart surged with relief—and worry. She was thrilled he'd come but dreaded that he might suffer because of her.
Then Russell glanced her way, flashing a grin. "Hey, did you really think I'd let you off the hook after one night?"
She blinked, speechless. In that moment, through the trees, light streamed down, casting a halo around him as he stood. And to her, he seemed like an angel in disguise, come to save her from despair.
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