- 09 -

                                    

                                          
I don't know war.
                          
I've never been part of a revolution, never mind led one. 
                          
I have only the faintest grasps of strategy and yell out to people as I need them. Isabelle is by my side the whole time, but a Category 6 might be a little high for her ability. Her endurance is fantastic and I watch, stunned, as she throws stinging punches and vicious fists, but soon, even she's wearing out.
                          
Personally, I've resorted to guns and savage screams. I'm swamped with the bioelectricity of all the people around me. I quickly tired of using the guards against each other despite its efficiency and chose to enhance the strength of the surrounding mutants. My vision is muddled with black spots as an awful headache sets in. It feels like someone is pounding my skull in with a hammer. Regardless, I push forward, letting the other mutants watch my back and carve a path through dozens of guards.
                          
Jax collapses in front of me, and that's when I know it's over.
                          
I try to shove down the despair that rises quickly and I slide to my knees next to him. "Jax!" I yell above the cacophony of screaming. He groans and his eyelids flutter, but that's it. So he's not dead yet. I inspect him quickly for wounds and find none except for the bullet wound from earlier. Just exhausted, I bet. His fingers twitch rapidly, so quickly they're just a blur. I bite my lip before hoisting him up and over my shoulders. With one hand, I grab his pant leg and his thumb in front of my chest and readjust his weight. I grimace. I've never been the strongest, but I can carry him well enough, and we need him desperately. 
                          
One last time, I force my conscience into a guard that aims his gun at Sarah, the smallest of the mutants. I let go a moment before she aims a swipe at his throat, not giving him time to react before his blood stains the tiles. Sarah whirls around to face me and my eyes drift unconsciously down to her forearms. Three serrated bones protrude from the flesh just above her wrists, tainted scarlet. She's fast and cold-blooded and almost completely silent, save for the growl that escapes her lips now. I give her a nod. She's one of the best fighters, but it won't be enough.
                          
Visions of what the facility members will do to us if we're captured is enough to spur me back into action. I grab Jax with my free hand, careful to avoid his exposed skin, and continue my pained dredging forward. My feet feel impossibly heavy and Jax's weight seems to increase every step I take. I taste iron in my mouth.
                          
It's not enough. It was never enough. Twenty mutants - no, not even twenty, nine mutants that even threw a punch, it was never enough to overwhelm a facility of hundreds of guards.
                          
And right now, they seem endless. Faintly, I hear someone, maybe Isabelle, yelling at me, but I can't hear what they're saying. My ears ring with the echoes of gunshots. Sarah darts ahead and I'm fully aware of a few mutants shrinking behind me, but I don't even have the strength to be angered by their cowardice. I have to keep moving. I have to... I have...
                          
It takes me a moment to realize there's a hand on my neck. My eyes refocus slowly. The hand is somehow both comfortingly warm and startlingly frigid at the same time.
                          
And then it feels like they put more medicine in me. I clutch onto Jax's limp form with everything I have left, feeling something slipping through my veins, traveling into my arms, up into my brain.
                          
I blink, and everything rushes back into focus.
                          
The hand slides off my neck and I turn to see Dylan, the Category 4 telepath, standing tensely behind me. His tangled red hair flops over his eyes as he avoids mine. He was the one to give me the extra bit of strength. That's a miracle.
                          
"It's nothing," he says, and I realize he's reading my thoughts. His hands twist nervously in front of him. "Sorry. I just figured you could use some help."
                          
"I appreciate it." My words are firm and my throat doesn't feel like it was burned anymore. His lips quirk into a barely recognizable smile. "Dylan? Back me up for this."
                          
I vault forward, newfound energy in my step. It's only a trick of the mind, but it's good enough for me. I feel like I could fly, like my feet aren't even touching the ground at all, like Jax's weight is nothing but a small obstacle on my path of conquest. I hear the mutants racing after me and Dylan's bioelectrical signal flares up. He's using his ability. Good. He's going to need it.
                          
I make my plan as I dash down the hallway. Sarah notices and waits at the end, drawing the attention of the other mutants. When I reach them, I don't stop; instead, I skid around the corner and shove open a door with my knee.
                          
It's a stairwell. Isabelle swoops in behind me, using her feet to stick to the ceiling while grabbing Jax off my shoulders. With his weight gone, I feel impossibly light. I grab the railing and launch myself onto the next set of stairs, trotting down a few steps before repeating the process. A couple of clangs echo behind me as the other mutants follow quickly. Isabelle simply slips between the railings, falling down levels at a time before reaching out and catching a wall with her fingers.
                          
"Showoff," I call. I reach out with my ability, but all I feel is the signals of the mutants behind me.
                          
Then there's a scream, and my stomach drops.
                          
I follow the route of Isabelle, falling for a few levels before hooking a rail with my elbow. It stings, but it won't do more than bruise. I clamber over as quickly as I can, practically tripping over myself. Bold black letters on the wall read "01." The first floor. How far up were we?
                          
Isabelle is cowering in the corner, against a wall. She holds Jax behind her with a trembling hand, but her other arm is bent at a disconcerting angle. Her eyes are screwed shut in pain and I spin around.
                          
A guard stands in the doorway, baton in one hand, gun in the other. He looks different; clothed head to boot in thick black material. He even wears a mask with a small clear opening in the front, and I know these are the big guys.
                          
I hiss and step in front of Isabelle, reaching out for the guard's mind.
                          
He's there. I grind my teeth and try to grab the strings of bioelectricity he leaves, but he's strong. Maybe I'm weak. It's like he's fistfighting me in the control center of his own head; I can't seem to get a stable grip, and soon I feel myself start to lose.
                          
This all happens in a matter of moments, but he takes advantage of my confusion and lifts the gun. I'm dimly aware, still trying to gain control of his mind, but he's got training, and he shoots.
                          
The bullet hits the floor between my feet. I take advantage of his brief action to try to dig deeper, trying to possess his mind while the gun is still hot, but even in his incredibly brief moment of weakness, I can't get control.
                          
I slip out altogether and he tenses, realizing I'm gone. If I have to fight him hand to hand, I will. His gloved fingers wrap around the baton, raising it above his head. I look around desperately for an exit, but he's just inside the doorway and up isn't an option, not when I could put the other mutants at risk. I'll just have to take it. I can do that. If I can't protect myself, I can protect Isabelle and Jax and Sarah and everyone else. I stare up at him in what I hope is pure, unbridled defiance.
                          
And then there's a flickering form standing in front of me. I almost don't realize what's happening until the guard tips backward, slamming into the wall and dropping to the floor.
                          
My eyes drift slowly to the faint, glistening outline of the person. Their hand is extended right out to where the guard's chest would have been moments ago, and even now, their fingers flicker as though glitching, not completely connected to the reality around them.
                          
They turn.
                          
For a second, we lock eyes. It's like staring at a ghost. Slowly, hauntingly, she cocks her head.
                          
And then she's running at me.
                          
I don't even have time to react. Her moves are unnatural and it feels like I'm missing pieces of time as she advances, glitching from step to step. I gape downwards as her nearly invisible hand slips through my chest, all the way up to her wrist.
                          
And then there's the fire. I choke for a moment, reaching up to take her hands away, but my fingers go straight through. My eyes water and mentally, I'm begging her to stop. Her form flickers inches away from my face. Blackness clouds my vision and in a vain attempt, I reach out, but it's like she doesn't have any bioelectricity at all, and the pain fades away as I slip into unconsciousness.