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Slavery, Deliverance and Faith
(Epilogue)

By Dyce

Marie pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes,
squinting up into the clear blue sky.  Grass tickled
her bare toes, and a warm breeze lifted he hair on her
arms.

It'd been eight weeks since Magneto had escaped from
prison, and she still didn't know much about what had
happened.  Before she'd heard more than a few panicked
'Oh god he's loose help eee' bits on the radio, Logan
had grabbed her and carried her bodily to her room,
ordering her to pack her duffel and be in front of the
house in ten minutes. 

Marie had made a virtue of being able to pack
everything she needed... and everything that was
important to her... into the duffel, ever since she
arrived at the school.  She could also do it fairly
fast. So she'd been down in front of the house in time
to see Logan all but physically throw Geordi out the
door, then get shoved out himself by Creed, who had
Clarice under his arm.  Clarice, Marie recalled, had
been wearing a resigned expression as she was hauled
around like a bag of laundry. 

Then Annie had come out too, carrying two duffels, one
of them probably Clarice's since it had pink bunny
stickers all over it, and towing Kyle and Jonny, who
both looked baffled.  Creed and Logan, working in
eerie unison, had hastily stuffed all six teenagers
into an oversized Jeep and the next thing Marie
remembered clearly was Annie talking over the radio,
and the startled looks the men had exchanged when
they'd realized that a) they'd both grabbed 'their'
kids and bolted for a safer hideaway and b) they were
in the same car.

THAT had been funny.  So had the lengthy arguments the
two of them had engaged in before finally accepting
that they were going to have to work together to keep
'the cubs' safe.  Neither of them had seen fit to ask
Annie why she'd brought Kyle and Jonny.  Presumably
they were afraid she'd answer.

Anyway.  Four days later they'd arrived here, here
being a hut somewhere high up and in back of the Welsh
mountains, and had effectively hit the ground running.
All morning, every morning, they trained.  Hand to
hand combat at first, although they'd been promised a
start on edged weapons soon.  Healthy barefoot six
mile runs.  Rock climbing.  As much clean-living basic
training the two despots who called themselves men
could fit in.  A quick lunch, and then it was chores.
Hunting, fishing, cleaning, cutting wood, survival
training, another six mile run... then dinner, a quick
wash, sleep, and the whole thing starting over again.

This, apparently, was the Creed And Logan Method of
preparing the 'cubs' for anything.  The first three
weeks had been hell for everyone except Annie.  Now,
though, the grumbles were starting to quiet down.
They were all getting stronger and more alert, moving
faster and more surely.  It was nice to have the
I-can-do-anything feeling of *almost* scoring a good
hit on Sabretooth before breakfast.  And the food was
pretty good... both men agreed that meat and vegetable
meals two or three times a day were essential parts of
a training regime, along with a solid seven or eight
hours of sleep for everyone still growing.

And they got the afternoon off every five days.  The
first three weeks they'd spent the extra time
sleeping.  Now...

Marie straightened up, pointed her arms above her
head, and grabbed a tree-branch, swinging herself up
easily.  She sat on the branch for a moment, then
scrambled further up the tree, until she reached the
last of the branches that could hold her.  The ground
was hidden by leaves and branches now and she made
herself comfortable in a sort of leafy green cave,
pulling a book out of the front of her t-shirt. 

Off to her left, she could hear splashing, as Annie
and Kyle practiced catching fish with their bare
hands.  Fresh fish for dinner. Good.  Jonny and
Clarice weren't with them, for once - Logan had
dragged them off for an impromptu botany lesson.
(This is good to eat, this isn't, this is good to eat,
this isn't)  Geordi was on firewood duty again, and
she could hear the thunk-thunk of bad-tempered
axe-strokes. 

She didn't know where Sabretooth was.  Around
someplace.

She opened her book, a small handwritten volume in a
worn leather cover.  "Being a Study of the Art of
Invisibility, or Escaping Undesired Detection," she
spelled out, leaning back against the tree.  "By
Richard Maven.  It is undeniable fact that there is
none so effectively invisible as he who fitteth into
his surroundings so seamlessly that he passeth
unremarked.  Thereby, the first action of invisibility
is observation..."

(The End)


Author's Note:  As Godless ended, so too doth SDF...
with even more teasing cliffhangers... <G>  Needless
to say, being the shameless feedback hussy I am, the
more feedback I get, the more likely I am to write the
third series of the arc.  Yes, I'm shameless.
Feedback please?  :)
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