Magical Mutations
Chapter 7
The rental car rolled off the interstate and onto a flat, empty road lined with cookie-cutter
houses. Jean tapped the wheel with both thumbs, alternating between the accelerator and the
brake with a lead-footed rhythm. They were supposed to be inconspicuous, but the way she
drove, Harry thought they might end up in a jail cell before even getting to Kitty.
He kept a discreet eye on the speedometer. When it hit sixty in a twenty-five mile per hour zone,
he cleared his throat. "Are we running late, or do you just have a death wish?"
Jean's mouth pulled up in a half-smile. "Both. The Professor wants us to get to her before
anyone else does. If you're scared, you can hold my hand."
Harry looked at her with an eyebrow raised and said, "You don't have to make excuses to touch
me, you know. Just say that you can't keep your hands off me," Harry teased. "I won't tease you
about it."
"That's good because the last boy who teased me spent half the day believing he was a
ballerina," Jean good-naturedly fired back while tapping the side of her head. Harry knew that
that wasn't an idle threat. She had the power to do it. She jerked the wheel to avoid a cyclist in
the street. The car swung wide before straightening, the tires loudly screeching on the hot
asphalt. Jean gripped the steering wheel tightly, and she kept glancing at Harry like she
expected him to leap from the moving vehicle at any moment.
"Point taken," he said, and set his hand on the dashboard just in case. The move made Jean
laugh. Her laugh was bright and unworried, as if she didn't have a care in the world. Harry found
he liked it.
Ahead, the sign for Deerfield High School was rapidly approaching. Jean slammed on the
brakes and took the turn into the parking lot at double the recommended speed. The rental car,
an ugly white sedan with peeling window tint, fishtailed for a second before settling. She killed
the ignition and let out a satisfied breath. She seemed proud that their journey hadn't ended in a
fiery crash. "We're here," she announced, and glanced at him. "Are you ready?"
Harry shrugged, unbuckled his seat belt, and checked himself in the side mirror. "As ready as
I'm gonna be. This is all new to me," he said, smoothing a hand through his mess of black hair.
"Are we just going to walk up to her, or …?"
"Let's not scare her. You're going to let me do the talking at first," Jean said, straightening her
shirt and then running her fingers through her thick mane of red hair. "She's scared, and she
probably thinks she's going crazy. You need to be as non-threatening as possible." Harry opened the door and grinned at her. "I can manage that. I won you over, didn't I?"
"Just try to look approachable," Jean said, rolling her eyes. She got out of the car and stretched.
Harry took the opportunity to scope out her attractive curves. They walked to the main entrance,
which was a massive glass wall plastered with banners and student council slogans.
The building itself was practically empty. It seemed that everyone was in class. The only
movement came from a janitor dragging a trash can across the lobby, humming loudly to
himself. Harry caught sight of their reflections in the glass. Jean looked quite sexy in her fitted
t-shirt and tight jeans.
"How exactly are we going to find her?" Harry asked, lowering his voice as they stepped through
the doors.
Jean shot him a smirk. "Watch and learn." She closed her eyes for a second, then put two
fingertips to her right temple. She stood there for a moment, unmoving and breathing steadily.
Harry noticed the way her body shifted. The playfulness melted away, replaced by a tension that
seemed to hum in the air. Her lovely face seemed strained.
Jean opened her eyes and let out a breath she had been holding. "She's here. Third floor, east
hall." Jean shook her head. "She's in a bit of a pickle."
"Is she okay?" Harry asked.
Jean nodded. "She's panicking, but she's not in any danger."
Harry followed her up the stairs. They took a hard left at the first landing and ducked into a
hallway lined with lockers. Every few feet, posters for the math club and the homecoming dance
line the wall. Harry's heart rate picked up as they neared. He really wanted to do a good job and
prove he belonged.
Halfway down the hall, Harry heard a metallic thumping noise. He then heard a muffled, urgent
voice. "Let me out! I can't breathe in here!" The banging got louder, which then turned into a
rapid-fire series of kicks.
They reached the locker, and Jean nodded at Harry. The banging on the locker door was frantic.
Harry placed his palm flat against the metal, closed his eyes, and concentrated. The memory of
using his powers flooded back into his mind. Suddenly, the locker door evaporated into a puff of
metallic dust.
A pretty girl tumbled out and landed right in Harry's arms. She was wearing a pair of capri jeans
and a thin pink cardigan. Her brown hair was in a messy ponytail, and her bright blue eyes were
wide with panic. She made a little "eep" noise and clutched at his arm, her soft hands digging in
as if he was the only thing keeping her from falling through the floor. Jean was the first to break the silence. "Kitty Pryde?"
The girl let go of Harry and stumbled back, her cheeks flaming red. She brushed herself off and
backed away from both of them. "Who are you people? What did you do to the locker?" she
demanded.
Harry smiled, not moving an inch. "We're here to help you."
Kitty glared at them both, then at the ruined locker. She folded her arms across her chest and
shivered in the air-conditioned hallway. "You're not from the school," she said suspiciously. "Did
my mom send you?"
Jean stepped forward, her voice soft. "Your mother is worried about you, but she didn't call us.
We … have ways of knowing when people like you are in trouble."
"People like me?" Kitty's jaw set tightly, and her blue eyes flashed with something like anger. "I
don't know what you're talking about," she said, her voice cracking.
"Don't be embarrassed," Jean said gently. "When I first got my powers, I made everything in the
living room crash straight into the ceiling … including the family dog. It really scared me, and my
dog wasn't too happy either. If you'd rather talk in private …"
"I'm not a freak," Kitty snapped. She looked like she might bolt down the hall at any second.
Harry raised his hands in surrender. "Neither am I," he said, and he reached into her locker and
snatched up an empty candy bar wrapper. Harry closed his eyes, and the plastic shimmered,
twisted, and transformed into a single white lily. He offered it to her, holding it out in the palm of
his hand.
Kitty stared at the flower. Her expression softened, and for a second, she looked like she might
cry. "That's … pretty," she managed. She reached out with trembling fingers and took the flower
from his hand. "How did you …?"
"We're the same as you," Harry said, stepping back to give her space. "We're not freaks. We're
just different."
Kitty's cheeks burned pink, and she hid her face behind the flower for a second. She tucked a
strand of hair behind her ear and then whispered, "Thank you."
Jean relaxed. "We're not here to get you in trouble, Kitty. We just want to talk."
Kitty looked from Jean to Harry. When she saw Harry's handsome face, her cheeks turned an
even brighter pink. "What if I don't want to talk?" she asked in a shaky voice. "That's fine," Harry said, leaning against the lockers. "We're not going to force you to do
anything you don't want to do."
Jean grinned at Kitty. "I'm Jean, and this hopeless romantic is Harry."
Kitty glanced at the flower, then at Harry. "You made this out of nothing?" she asked.
"I made it out of your wrapper," Harry said. "You'd be surprised what you can do if you train with
your powers." He winked at her.
She bit her lower lip, trying not to smile. Then, almost shyly, she tilted her head down and
smelled the flower. Harry couldn't help but smile at the girl.
Jean softened her tone. "Kitty, has anything weird happened today?"
Kitty hesitated, her shoulders hunched. "I woke up in the bathtub," she whispered, embarrassed.
"I went to sleep in my bed, but I woke up in the tub downstairs. My mom freaked out."
Harry nodded, already knowing about her power. "Did you fall through anything?"
Kitty's eyes widened. "The floor. I … I think I fell through the floor."
Jean nodded, glad Kitty was opening up. "Kitty, this is important. Can you do it on purpose?"
Kitty hesitantly shook her head, and Jean nodded in understanding. "Back at Xavier's School,
you can learn to use your powers in a safe environment."
Kitty looked confused. "So you're like, superheroes or something?"
Jean laughed. "Something like that. We mainly just train so we don't accidentally hurt ourselves
or someone else when using our gifts."
Kitty finally let herself smile. "I just want to get through high school without winding up in a lab."
Harry nodded. "We can help with that." He gestured down the hall. "Do you want to get out of
here? We can talk in the car while we drive you home."
Kitty looked down at the flower in her hand. She seemed to make a decision. "Only if you
promise not to lock me in the trunk. I've had enough of that for one day."
Harry offered her his arm, and she actually took it, her grip surprisingly strong for someone her
size. "I promise," he said. They walked toward the stairwell, with Jean falling into step beside
Kitty. She kept the mood light by cracking jokes. They exited out the side door into the blazing afternoon sun. The parking lot was full of cars,
and a guy was loitering by the bike racks. The guy watched them with a sneer. His face was
long, and his hair was a greasy, brown mullet. As they passed, Harry caught the flash of a knife
handle sticking out from the kid's pocket. Harry glared back at him and put his hand lightly on
Kitty's back, steering her toward the car.
The greasy-haired boy waited until they were out of earshot before dialing a number on his
phone. He watched the trio walking toward a white car and murmured, "Yeah. They're here.
They're leaving the school with her. You want me to follow?"
A female voice crackled on the other end of the line. "Just keep your eyes on them, and
whatever you do, don't let them get on that jet. I'm still an hour away. Do you understand?" the
voice menacingly stated.
"Yeah, I got it," Lance grunted, and the line immediately disconnected. Lance shoved his phone
back in his pocket and smirked. He was going to enjoy this.
Magical Mutations
Harry clicked the remote and unlocked the car. Kitty stood nearby with her hands in her pockets.
She barely made eye contact, but she seemed less nervous than she had in the school hallway.
She shuffled her feet and stared at the ground as if waiting for it to do something interesting.
"Why do so many students have cars? It's insane," Harry said, staring out at the sea of cars in
the parking lot.
Jean rolled her eyes and walked around to the passenger side. "Don't mind him. He's still
learning how America works." She flashed Kitty a reassuring smile.
Before Kitty could respond, the blacktop under their feet quivered. At first, it was subtle, like the
vibration from a distant train. Harry felt it through his knees and looked up, confused. "Did you
feel that?" he asked.
Kitty blinked, and her mouth twitched. "Is one of you playing a joke?"
Jean frowned and crouched, pressing her fingertips to the curb. "It's not me," she said.
The tremor came again, but this time it wasn't subtle. The ground shuddered with a
low-frequency vibration that rattled the rental car's windows and set the loose rocks humming.
Harry's gut went cold. He looked down the row of parked cars. The minivan two rows over
began to bounce up and down on its shocks, already threatening to tip over.
Kitty yelped and grabbed Jean's arm. "What's happening?" she shrilled. Jean didn't answer. She swept her sharp eyes around the parking lot. "Get in the car. Now."
Harry sprinted to the driver's door and yanked it open. He dove inside, ducking his head just as
the rearview mirror snapped off and hit him in the ear. He ignored it. Jean and Kitty scrambled
into the backseat, slamming the doors in tandem. The car rocked sideways as the tremor hit a
third time, almost strong enough to tip it.
"I thought Illinois wasn't earthquake country!" Kitty squeaked.
Jean secured her seat belt while glancing up at the rear window, her eyes narrowed. "It's not
natural," she called out over the noise. "Someone's doing this."
Harry shoved the key into the ignition and froze. There was now a deep, resonant thump that
vibrated up through the tires. It was coming from the street, where a crack had appeared in the
blacktop. It zigzagged toward them in a drunken line. The white rental car was parked right in its
path.
Kitty pressed her face to the glass. "Uh, do you see that?" She pointed at the crack, which was
now a deep fissure widening by the second. The minivan across the lane rocked on its wheels,
then slid sideways, drawn by the movement of the earth. A light pole swayed, creaked, and then
came crashing down, sparks flying as the wires snapped.
Harry threw the car into reverse. The wheels spun and screamed against the shifting pavement,
but the car barely moved. A wave of asphalt rolled beneath them, lifting the sedan a foot into the
air, then dropping it hard. Jean's hand shot out, grabbed the front seat, and braced herself. "This
isn't random!" she yelled. "Somebody's targeting us!"
"Like who?" Harry demanded.
"Just …" Jean shoved his shoulder. "Keep driving!" The car lurched backwards as the tires
finally caught. They gained all of two feet before the rear axle dropped into a sinkhole and the
car bottomed out with a metallic shriek. The trunk was now nose-deep in the asphalt. The
engine died, and the rental car's lights started flashing while the alarm blared.
Kitty let out a whimper and hugged her knees. "We're going to die. We are literally going to die."
"Not yet," Harry muttered. He looked at Jean, who was already searching for a target. "Can you
sense anything?"
Jean shook her head, her eyes glassy. "There's too much background noise. Everyone around
here is panicking. This whole place is one giant headache. I can vaguely sense someone, but
it's not a mutant I've felt before." The ground rumbled again, and then the street ruptured. A pickup truck, previously parked
several spots over, was spat skyward by the upwelling asphalt. The truck tumbled end over end
as it arced toward them. "OUT!" Jean screamed.
Harry threw open the driver's door and rolled out. Kitty tumbled after him, but got her foot stuck
and half-dragged herself along the ground, panting in panic. Jean was right behind, hauling Kitty
up by the back of her shirt just as the pickup slammed into the rental car with a shriek of
splintering glass and twisting metal. The impact exploded the rental car into a bouquet of white
fiberglass and random debris.
Shrapnel rained down. Harry instinctively raised his hand, and the air shimmered in front of him.
The bits of glass and metal fizzled into a glowing haze before clattering harmlessly to the
pavement. He barely noticed it. His eyes were locked on the figure striding through the chaos on
the far side of the lot.
He was tall and gangly, with ratty brown hair and a strong jawline. His black leather jacket was
two sizes too big, and his boots were scuffed beyond repair. He walked in a weird, loping gait,
like he was used to the ground always moving. His brown eyes were narrowed, and his grin was
full of venom.
"Who the hell is that?" Harry asked.
"The hell if I know, but I think it's safe to say he's the one causing all of this. I guess he really,
really wants Kitty."
Kitty curled into a fetal ball and whispered, "What does he want with me?"
The ground shuddered again. Lance was maybe fifty yards away, but even at that distance,
Harry could see his fists clenching and unclenching in rhythm with the quakes.
"Professor Xavier warned us about this. He wants to take you to his team," Jean said, never
looking away from the threat. "And he'll trash everything between here and there to do it."
Harry gritted his teeth. He stepped forward, putting himself between Lance and the girls. "Stay
behind me," he ordered, then opened his hand. A ball of blue fire kindled in his palm, humming
with barely-contained energy.
Lance saw it and laughed out a sharp, barking sound. "Is that the best you've got?"
Harry didn't answer. He didn't need to. He hurled the fireball. It streaked straight for Lance,
lighting up the lot in an eerie blue flash. Lance dropped to a knee, slammed his palms to the
ground, and the blacktop rumbled up in a slab. The fireball smashed into the barrier and
exploded in a shower of sparks and boiling tar. The concussive explosion sent Lance flying. He slammed into a compact car and dented the
door with his back. The back of his head smashed the driver's side window, and his chest
burned from the molten tar. He grunted in agony and threw his hand out. The ground trembled
so violently that it practically blurred. Huge chunks of the parking lot exploded upward, and a
small hatchback was sent flying at Harry like a missile. Jean's eyes glowed faintly green, and
the vehicle froze midair, shaking and groaning under the strain.
"I've got it!" Jean shouted, sweat beading on her brow.
Harry sprinted forward, intent on taking the guy out. However, the earthquake was so severe
that Harry couldn't even see straight. Everything was a smear of blurs and colors. Jean
screamed his name, and Harry quickly decided that she was more important than petty revenge.
He disappeared in a flash of fire. He reappeared next to Jean and Kitty, who were trying to stay
upright as the parking lot convulsed beneath them.
"New plan," Jean said, panting. "We need to get Kitty out of here. Now."
Harry nodded, but the ground cracked with a deafening groan. The fissure behind them had
widened into a canyon, at least fifteen feet across and too deep to see the bottom. The air
smelled of burning rubber as cars around them began to smoke. The next quake knocked all
three off their feet. Kitty tumbled to the edge of the chasm and scrabbled to grab hold of
anything.
"I'm slipping!" she shrieked.
Jean lunged for her, but the ground split again. The gap widened. Jean caught Kitty's wrist, but
her own shoes lost traction, and she started sliding in after.
Harry didn't think. He dove straight for them and landed on his stomach just in time to grab
Jean's ankle. The ground shuddered, and the three of them dangled for a second before the
curb disintegrated. They all fell.
Kitty screamed, and Jean's face was set in pure panic. Harry threw out his hands and
summoned them with all his strength, fighting the gravity the whole way. The two girls slammed
into his chest, and he wrapped his arms around them. His sense of direction was shot, and the
bottom of the fissure yawned up like a waiting mouth. "Harry!" Jean screamed, clutching him like
a lifeline.
He closed his eyes, focused everything he had, and acted. All three burst into fire and
disappeared as the fissure collapsed around them.
Suddenly, they were all standing on the sidewalk, twenty feet from the chasm. They were shaky
but relatively unhurt. Kitty collapsed on the grass, sobbing. Jean dropped to her knees,
breathing in short, ragged gasps. Harry turned back to the parking lot. The chasm had stopped growing, and the ground was no
longer shaking. Lance stood at the far end, clutching his chest and head. His jacket was
scorched, and he limped as he turned to run. He took one look at Harry and vanished into the
dust, leaving nothing but chaos in his wake.
Jean got her breath back first. "Is everyone okay?" she croaked.
Harry nodded, though he felt a bit shaky as the adrenaline began to wear off. "Yeah. We're
good."
Kitty looked up, her face streaked with tears. "How did you … How did we …?"
Harry crouched beside her and rubbed her shoulder. "Don't worry. We're safe now. I promise we
won't let that guy get you," he said. He hesitated, then wiped the dirt off her cheek. Kitty seemed
to lean into his touch.
Jean wiped her mouth and managed a smile. "That was one hell of a first mission," she said.
Harry looked at the devastation. The ground was ripped apart, the school's windows were
shattered, and practically every car in the parking lot was totaled. "Let's get out of here before
the news vans show up." He offered Kitty his hand. She took it and shakily stood. Jean fell in on
Kitty's other side and wrapped an arm around her waist.
"C'mon. I'll take us back to the jet, and we'll contact the Professor. He needs to know about
this," Harry said, taking charge of the situation. He opened his arms, and Jean stepped into him,
pressing herself against his side. Kitty looked at them and quickly joined in, pressing herself to
Harry's other side. He wrapped his arms around them, and they disappeared in a burst of
flames.
Magical Mutations
Principal Darkholme's heels made a sharp, clacking sound as she advanced up the rotted steps
of the abandoned house. She wore a gray suit and a light purple blouse. She looked very out of
place in a run-down house like this.
The interior was a mess, and just looking at it made her sneer. The only sign of recent habitation
was the faintly visible trail of muddy footprints leading up the stairs. Darkholme followed them,
the rotting wood groaning under her weight.
The upstairs hallway had the thick, musty smell of a basement that hadn't been opened in
years, layered with a stench of wet carpet and mold. There were three closed doors, but the
footprints went straight to the end. Darkholme didn't hesitate or check the other rooms. She
simply walked to the right door and opened it. Lance was inside, stretched awkwardly on his back across a ruined mattress. His head lolled
against the wall, and there was a thick crust of dried blood over his right brow and jaw. His shirt
was split down the middle and blackened with soot. Both of his hands were pressed to his
damaged midsection.
He saw her in the doorway and tried to get up. He managed two inches before collapsing again,
breathing through his teeth. "Ms. Darkholme," he rasped.
She closed the door behind her with a quiet click, then regarded him for a moment. "Well," she
said. "If you were hoping to get out of gym class tomorrow, you've succeeded."
Lance managed a thin smile and rolled onto his side. "Did you come here to chew me out, or
finish me off?" His voice was scratchy, but he managed to project some bravado.
Darkholme stepped across the room and squatted beside the bed. She examined the wounds
with clinical interest. "I expected you to fail," she said. "What I didn't expect was the spectacular
mess you made."
She took hold of his chin with cold, strong fingers and forced his head upright so she could stare
into his bloodshot eyes. "Sixty-three vehicles damaged, countless civilians hospitalized, and a
sinkhole the size of a jumbo jet." She squeezed his face until he winced. "You have a gift for
escalation."
Lance spat to the side. "He started it."
She released his chin, disgusted. "Don't blame your incompetence on children."
He glared up at her, one eye already swelling shut. "I almost had her. If that freak and his
girlfriend hadn't …"
"If … if … if …" Darkholme stood and turned her back to him, crossing to the room's single intact
chair. She sat and crossed her legs with feline poise. "The girl is gone. You let them get her.
There are no excuses … only defeat."
Lance's head sagged. He clutched his ribs, and his chest hitched as he coughed. "It wasn't
supposed to be like that," he muttered.
"It never is." Darkholme sighed out a tired, bored sound. Then, with a pull of her lips, her
features began to flow and shift. Peach skin faded to blue. The hard black eyes turned yellow,
the jaw squared, and her hair grew out into a bristling red mane. In three seconds, Principal
Darkholme was gone, and Mystique sat in her place. Her blue skin glistened in the dimness,
and her smile was now predatory. She stood again, showing off the change for dramatic effect. Mystique liked an audience, and
pain made for a very attentive one. "Your first mission was an abject failure. You have potential,
Lance, but you refuse to take direction. You refuse to adapt." She closed the gap between them
in two steps and loomed over him, her yellow eyes narrowing. "That girl was our ticket into
Xavier's little sanctuary. Instead, you made a spectacle of yourself and brought unwanted
attention to us. You failed … just as I knew you would."
He tried to meet her stare, but it hurt too much. "I'll get them next time."
"You're not going to get anything in this condition," Mystique said, looking down at him without
an ounce of pity. "You can't even walk."
Lance said nothing. He tried to push himself up, failed, and groaned aloud.
Mystique reached down and grabbed his wrist. He flinched, expecting more pain, but she
hauled him upright with a single jerk, locking her grip on his upper arm. "Get up," she ordered.
"We're leaving."
He shook his head. "I can't …"
"You can," Mystique said, her voice steely. "And you will."
He got one foot under himself, then the other. He trembled unsteadily, but she was stronger than
she looked. She dragged him from the disgusting bed. The blue of her hand stood out starkly
against the brown of his skin.
"I'm not going to the hospital," Lance growled, trying to find some dignity in the moment.
Mystique laughed loudly and derisively. "As if I would waste my hard-earned money on you,"
she amusedly stated. "You're coming to Bayville. If you want to prove you're not a waste of my
time, you'll be at the Brotherhood house at dawn, ready to work."
He limped toward the door, her hand still crushing his arm. "What about Kitty?" he asked, his
voice softening.
Mystique shook her head. "She's out of our reach for now. If an opportunity arises, we'll
capitalize on it. Enough talking … Let's go!" They moved down the hallway while Mystique
shifted back into Darkholme. Her steps were brisk and near-silent, and his were a noisy shuffle.
Mystique couldn't help but smirk as the idiot boy groaned in pain with every step. Pain