the one where i'm a kid. kayla runs her fingers through his thick hair, kissing his forehead. he sees that she has a small cut on her forearm. he takes her arm and looks at the wound.
how'd you find me?
agriculture? you working with farmers? agent zero grins. there is nothing pleasant about his grin,.
still shooting first, asking questions later? in one blindingly fast motion, agent zero pulls a customized automatic from his shoulder holster, fires, and reholsters.
that was a buck twenty-five, asshole. stryker holds up both hands, one palm to logan, one to zero.
you're taking it.
not interested.
already got a job.
eighteen five.
yeah, i am. it's good work. and i haven't killed anybody in three years.
right about now i am. agent zero grins, enjoying the game. stryker, seeing that this is going badly, tries to break the tension.
forget it. logan walks around to the front of the cabin. stryker and agent zero follow. logan's battered old pickup truck is parked beside the newcomers' lincoln.
i can take care of myself.
i'm canadian. he hits the gas, forcing stryker to jump back lest the tires run over his foot. stryker and agent zero watch him go.
hey, fellas. the boys and girls look up and see logan sitting on a second- floor window ledge. he has already formed six perfect snowballs, with which he proceeds to pelt the fourth graders. the kids run, screaming and laughing, nearly colliding with kayla, who rounds the corner and stares up at logan.
they started it.
stryker came by the house today.
wants me back.
told him no.
i'm the best there is at what i do. and what i do best isn't very nice. kayla studies the side of his face for a moment. logan maybe he's right. maybe it's the only thing i'm good for. kayla watches him. logan shakes his head as if ridding himself of an errant thought. logan son of a bitch had me thinking about it for a minute. he wraps his arm around her shoulders and pulls her closer. f conttn11fn1
most guys don't have to worry about gutting their girlfriend when they have a bad dream.
a gift? logan shakes his head, staring at the black ribbon of road. logan you can return a gift.
i look like elvis.
full moon tomorrow.
never trust a guy named trickster.
koo-koo-choo got screwed.
t love you, too.
bullet didn't kill this bear.
come on, you're okay. say something. say something, darling. say something. kayla, come on. he cradles her in his arms. logan you're okay. you're okay.
where is he?
where is he?
three years i been here. three years everything's good. nobody knows me. and then one day you show up and the next day she's dead.
you knew he was coming. f conttnfjrd 1
what list? stryker chokes, gasping for air. logan eases up on his grip but doesn't release the man. stryker takes a deep breath.
how did he get it?
creed's a mutant, too.
i'm not in the army anymore.
i'm gonna track him down and i'm gonna end him. that's the plan.
the hell you planning on doing to me? hines gives stryker a worried look but he ignores her.
never wanted to put these on again.
you ready for me, doc?
see you on'the other side. one of the technicians fastens a breathing tube, connected to an oxygen tank, to logan's mouth. logan lies down, submerging himself in the cold water. the technician clamps logan's wrists and ankles into place with stainless-steel shackles bolted to the plexiglass walls. logan's eyes are open as he watches the robotic arms swivel into place, poised above him like a gang of metal vipers.
sorry.  it's a little cold out there.
that's probably it.
no sir.
pretty rough, yeah.
sorry if i scared her.
i've got good circulation. nice chopper you got out there, by the way. james's face lights up. logan has found the man's passion.,
what is it, '48 panhead?
get down! but it's too late. a second bullet hits james in the back; the farmer blinks and topples forward, dead before he hits -the ground.
those were good people back there. innocent people. agent zero surreptitiously pulls a commando knife from a sheath on his ankle.
i got a message for your boss.
get me the pest control division.
why don't you get 'em anyway. and tell 'em logan's calling. while he waits he watches one of the kids attempt a backside tailslide on the curb. the kid loses his balance and wipes out, skinning his palms on the asphalt.
you shouldn't have killed those people. all they were doing was helping a stranger.
they had nothing to do with this. you let that mad dog gun 'em down like they were animals.
had enough orders for one lifetime.
people like you are always waiting for the next war. you start one with me, colonel, you better sleep with the lights on. he hangs up the phone and walks to his bike. the skateboard punks give him a wide berth.
you're way out of my league, darlin'.
not tonight. the redhead purses her lips.
i know exactly what i'm missing. the courtesan waits at the green light,. watching logan speed off into the night -
you talk tough for a guy who always let me do the dirty work. a slow smile creases wraith's face. he turns.
you tryin' to insult me?
i'm looking for victor creed. wraith's face goes serious at the mention of the name. he looks around the gym, making sure no one's watching them. he glances at the boxers in the ring, who lean on the ropes and breathe heavily, awaiting instructions.
always.
what's weapon x? they tap glass.
you know about it. wraith sits behind his desk and puts his boots up. logan sits across from him.
i did. woke up one day and knew i was done. logan peels the label from his bottle of beer. f conttnttft) )
what kind of plans?
creed did government work?
help me find him.
just tell me where to start looking. i'll do the rest. wraith taps the bottleneck, considering.
the prison he busted out of?
nope.
you think he's still in touch with creed? f c_onttntirt)1
jesus, dukes.  dukes, mouth and chin dusted with fried pork skin, turns his head to examine the pest standing next to him. logan maybe it's time to give the pork rinds a rest. dukes swings his arm. despite his enormous mass, the man moves with surprising speed. not quick enough to catch logan, though, who ducks beneath the blow. dukes's forearm, thicker than a fire hydrant, smashes through the steel shelving. bags of pork rinds and potato chips tumble to the floor. snikt! logan shows his glittering claws to the big man. logan i'll fillet you standing, fat man. that what you want? dukes hesitates. that is not what he wants., logan .where's victor creed? dukes grunts and bulls forward, toppling the heavily-laden shelves into the next aisle. panicked shoppers scream and run for the exits. dukes blasts through the cereal aisle, too, with a great rending of steel, his giant shoes crushing boxes of lucky charms as he stomps into the produce section. conptni)f.t)1
come on, he's your friend. when was the last time you talked to him?
careful, dukes. i can smell a lie before you even tell it. the blob begins to cry, the great bellows of his cheeks trembling, tears and snot dribbling down his face.
all right, take it easy. dukes blows his nose into the handkerchief, one of history's loudest and most violent nasal ejaculations. he offers back the soiled handkerchief. logan waves it off. logan it's a gift. dukes takes a deep breath, gathering himself.
the club for mutants? down in new orleans?
nah. you know more than that. dukes tilts his face, trying to keep his face from getting scraped off.
he better be there, freddie. and he better know something good.
wild roses for the moon.
something like that. you seen my buddy barbarus? the dealer points toward a staircase at the back of the club.
trust me, bub-- you don't. logan heads for the staircase.
i'm on the list. logan. the skinhead raises his clipboard and examines the list.
unknown.
i came back. where is he?
what's that?
he's killing mutants, bub. barbarus smiles, twenty fingers drumming on the table top.
you got that right. snikt! barbarus shoves his girlfriend out of the way and stands, unsheathing three more black commando knives from his belt. the other mutants quiet down, watching the fireworks. barbarus swings, the four knives whistling through the air. logan ducks under them and continues to bob and weave as barbarus advances behind a whirlwhind of black steel. logan slashes and one severed hand falls to the ground. barbarus howls, stabbing at logan with his three good arms. logan's claws flash through the air again, and another neatly severed hand lands on the table. logan retracts his claws and curls one finger: come at me. barbarus, shamed and furious, gathers himself and charges. logan times his punch perfectly, pivoting on the ball of his foot and hitting barbarus with an uppercut that sounds like a well-hit baseball. barbarus crashes to the floor. pantera hisses and pounces at logan, her black claws aimed at his face. logan backhands her. she hits the floor and slides across the hardwood. c_nwttaatft)
no? way i hear it, you two were practically boyfriends before he busted out.
you're lying to me. barbarus grins, his teeth red from the blood in his mouth.
careful, doc. i can smell a lie. i can hear it. maybe you start to sweat a little bit. maybe the pitch of your voice changes. but i'll know.
nope. but i know exactly what i'll do to you. i
you're not innocent, doc. he leans forward, forearms on the tabletop. logan what does victor creed have to do with the weapon x program?
so where does weapon x fit in? hines closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.
creed works for stryker. hines nods. i conttni]rm
just following orders, huh?
all this time i been hunting creed, and he's just a puppet. it's stryker pulling the strings. he stubs out his cigar on the breakfast table. logan you ready to stop following orders?
were you aiming for every speed bump in the state?
we find a uniform that fits. a well-built sergeant walks toward his vehicle, paging through requisition papers on a clipboard. logan that ought to work.
i barely hit the guy. they don't notice as a small security camera near the entrance pivots, its black eye watching the intruders.
i can smell him. he walks through the door. hines checks to see if the coast is clear.and follows him. neither notices the security camera mounted on the ceiling, swiveling to track their movement.
it's creed.  he looks inside another tank. same cruel face, same powerful body. only their shaved heads distinguish them from victor creed. logan they're all creed.
they get into the world, it's genocide.
don't follow me. hines stops, standing alone in the middle of the eleven.
who are you?
no i don't.
you're dead.
why? i
prison.  kayla finally raises her head-and looks directly at logan.
you told me he died of a heart attack.
you loved me. i know you loved me. kayla blinks and looks away.
no one's that good.
you're a mutant?
good.
that story you told me.  about the guy who goes to get flowers for the moon. i can't get it out of my head. except i had it all backwards. i thought you were the moon and i was your wolverine. but you're the trickster, aren't you?
you didn't trick me into loving you.
the last two months, you weren't playing around in my skull. you weren't using. your powers on me. i thought you were dead and i loved you more than ever. maybe it makes you feel better to think it was all fake. but it was never fake for me. kayla lowers her eyes.
i know exactly what is was like. i come from there too.
course you did. you still do. kayla stares down at logan. the tenderness returns to her face. she could free him right now if she wanted. the moment passes and kayla shakes her head.
yeah, you keep saying that. come on. turn on the juice. let's get this over with.
that all you got?
i would have done anything for you.
do you hear me? anything. 1
the woman said no. creed turns his head and sees logan and kayla standing in the doorway. he grins and tosses hines aside. she crashes into the wall and slides to the floor, dazed.
this is the end.
time you quit picking on girls.
this is for the ones who couldn't fight back.
i don't want him hypnotized. i want him dead. never taking his eyes off his enemy, logan advances.
get the hell out of here.
bringin' down the house. he sweeps his claws clean through the pillar, at an angle. the uppermost section shears off and drills into the floor with a concussive whump that spiderwebs the concrete for thirty feet around the impact site. stryker realizes what logan is doing.
unless someone comes along who can move a few million tons of steel, they ain't going anywhere.
almost looks peaceful from here.