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FIC: Wasteland

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  • eddievedderismylife
    Title: Wasteland Author: Autumn E-mail: dyslexic_crisco_penguin_fiend@hotmail.com Summary: Sequel to `Exit Disclaimer: I just borrow the characters to play
    Message 1 of 1 , Apr 2, 2002
      Title: Wasteland

      Author: Autumn

      E-mail: dyslexic_crisco_penguin_fiend@...

      Summary: Sequel to `Exit'

      Disclaimer: I just borrow the characters to play with; don't actually
      own them, damnit. The song '40 miles from the sun' belongs to Bush.
      (No, not the president)

      Author's Notes: I swore to myself I was not going to write a sequel.
      But then I heard this song for the first time in months, and it just
      struck a chord so to speak.

      Damn dark (which I'm sure you know if you read `Exit')

      For Jonas, blame him for planting the idea in my head.

      Set six months after `Exit'

      There is nowhere left to hide
      There is nothing to be done
      No people to be saved
      No pets we've never named
      40 miles from the sun

      The green land rover pulled off the dirt road and parked
      about 200 yards away from the giant crater in the ground. The engine
      died and the dull click of a door being opened was the only sound in
      the manmade wasteland that even squirrels had abandoned. The driver
      of the vehicle strode forth purposely in a word weary stride. Her
      black boots occasionally kicking dirt and rocks out of the way as she
      came to the edge of the gaping hole.
      Surveying the grim sceen before her, she sighed and dropped
      the bag from her shoulder. She drew out the metal spike and
      sledgehammer, and with one powerful blow drove it deeply into the
      ground. The rope was quickly laced through the hole at the top of
      the spike and the knot tied off in a sturdy clover hitch. She tossed
      the bag back onto her shoulder, securing it well. Slipping the other
      end through the large metal loop on her harness, she stood backwards
      and began her descent into the pit. The clanging of the metal spikes
      finding purchase for her feet helped her keep concentration as she
      made her way down.

      As darkness craves the mind
      We come undone without our pride
      No time on Earth to come
      All the pleasures just begun
      40 miles from the sun

      Finding solid ground again, she unfastened the harness and
      took a slow look around what had once been a military facility. The
      absolute destruction astounded her and reminded her of why she was
      here in the first place. Her blood boiled and she fought to keep from
      just screaming out loud. Sound in this dead cavity somehow seemed
      unnatural. Ashes were strewn about the place, untouched by the
      elements. A testament of just how much evil still pervaded the area
      even after the actual buildings were reduced to painful memories.
      She had no idea of where Logan had been when he'd blown the
      whole damn thing. And he had, she had no doubt about it. The papers
      hadn't mentioned names, but she'd automatically know it was him, even
      before the letter arrived. However, if ademantium really was
      indestructible, she figured she'd find at least part of him. Calling
      upon the vague presence of Logan that remained in her head, she
      trained her thoughts on uncovering his most likely strategic method
      of bombing. Sensing a strong inclination towards the center, Marie
      looked around her and walked to what looked approximately like the
      center of the crater.
      Piles of dirt interspersed with ashes were everywhere. She
      shook her head and set committed herself to the arduous task before
      her. Dislodging the pack once again, she removed the shovel and
      tossed the now empty bag off to the side. Sliding the holds on the
      compacted piece of metal into place, Rogue began to dig into the
      mountain of dirt.

      In our coats beneath the layers
      Wash my skin of all this hate
      We should sleep late
      Everything just kind of grates
      40 miles from the sun

      About two-thirds down the third pile, she felt the tip of her
      shovel hit something hard. Encouraged, she continued to delicately
      unbury the hard mass. Soon enough, only a light layer of dirt lay
      over whatever she had hit. Knowing he was dead was supposed to make
      this easier. Still she felt her throat catch when she realized what
      she was pulling out of the mound was undoubtedly the skeleton of the
      It was caked in dirt, and nothing but the smallest remnants
      of bones remained stuck to the metal. The metal skeleton was
      remarkably intact, looking like something out of the X-Files. She
      sank to her knees, exhausted by the physical and emotional exertion.
      She was torn with anger and a deep sadness over what Logan had done.
      In the back of her mind she could understand why, or at least partly
      come to grips with his reasoning. The less cognitive part of her
      however only understood the person she had most cared about in the
      world had been taken from her, and he had been the one responsible
      for that. She loved him and hated him, it was a volatile mixture. One
      that couldn't be rectified, it was far too late for that.

      I need to lose to make it right
      I'll confront the stars tonight
      I will babble I will bite
      You'll never know how much you shine
      40 miles from the sun

      Picking herself up, she surveyed the land for the most
      appropriate spot. Not that it mattered; everything was virtually
      dead and barren anyway. Recalling from somewhere she couldn't quite
      grasp, she settled on simply facing the west and digging remembering
      it was the most sacred direction. She dug the grave about six feet
      long and four feet deep. A shallow grave, but all she was truly
      capable of at the moment. Stopping to mop the sweat from her face,
      she surprised herself by learning tears were running down her
      cheeks. Paying little attention to that, she hoisted herself out of
      the empty grave and moved back towards Logan's skeleton.
      Retrieving the bag, she dragged it over to the mound of
      dirt. She adjusted it and pushed the metal bones onto the canvas.
      Gripping the handle, she began to drag the 200 lb. skeleton towards
      its final resting place. Grunting and straining, she managed to
      situate what was left of Logan in the grave, with his head facing
      west. She folded his arms over his chest and sat back on her haunches
      to take a final look at the faceless metal.
      The memories of the brief time they had spent together would
      haunt her for her life. The letter he'd sent her explaining his
      actions was burned into her memory. Pain, sorrow, anger, empathy.
      Mixed together with a bond neither of them had ever really
      understood. On some level she knew they'd loved each other, but
      sometimes that's not enough.
      Rising again, she took up the shovel and quietly buried
      Logan. Patting the earth down, she moved to the head or the grave
      and dug a small hole. Reaching her dirty fingers into her collar,
      she pulled out the metal she'd worn around her neck for too long.
      Fingering the tags one last time, she dropped them into the hole,
      leaving a single rivulet of the chain sticking partially out of the
      ground. The only marker of what now lay under the dusty ground for

      40 miles from the sun
      40 miles from the sun……….

      Rising from the ground, she remained silent. No prayers, no
      benedictions, no goodbye. There was nothing left to say.
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