"I'm feeling so confused today
          it seems they've changed the rules again
          cos in my life I'm trying hard
          to do it all so I can remain
          healthy and sane"

                    *Genesis*
                    "Living Forever"

"Who are you people?" Kurt Darkholme demanded. "Where am I?" These questions were to be expected from someone who'd been unconscious for the better part of two days and had awoken to find himself in strange surroundings and questionably stranger company. The part that wasn't to be expected was the fact that Darkholme (aka Nightcrawler) had two of the company he had opened his eyes to frozen in place with blades at their throats.

Pete Wisdom, leader of said company, took in the situation with calmness that made him seem almost unconcerned. Meggan was as stone-faced as always, though she easily reached into the electro-magnetic fields of the planet.

She could tell that it had something to do with his mutant power and that by being able to manipulate it, she'd give her people more of an advantage than they already had. If she had to, she'd kill the stranger by dismissing his personal EM field, though she rather hoped it didn't come to that.

"If you've got to know, I'm Pete Wisdom. This here's Meggan. That great lump over yonder is Arron and those two what you've got covered are Sharon and Jemaine." Pete took a final drag on his cigarette and flicked the butt into the campfire. "Now, before you go feelin' that you've got the upper hand, lemmee point out that even if you do manage to make stew meat outta those two, the three of us're packing enough power in our warped li'l genes to turn you into an ashy smear on the rocks. So put down the pig-stickers why don't 'cha?"

Kurt pressed the point of his sword marginally harder against the blond woman's throat. "I think not. Where am I?" "That wasn't a request, toerag. Take him, Hlessil!" As Pete issued the order, hot-knives, blades of pure heat, flew from his fingers and cut cleanly through the swords pinning Catseye and Jemaine's necks. In the same instant, Arron slipped into Nightcrawler's mind and gave him the mental equivalent of a sucker-punch. By the time Darkholme's eyes came back into focus, Wisdom and the others were prepared for another attack, should it be necessary.

"As for your other question, we're somewhere on the east coast of the United soddin' States." Wisdom finished. "Your turn, mate." Another wave of dizziness rocked Kurt down to his knees. "Call off your verdammt telepath first." he snarled.

"That's not Arron." The voice was so near to his side that Kurt actually jumped. The source was the one that Wisdom had identified as Jemaine.

"You've been through a pretty nasty scrape." she continued. "It's pretty impressive that you're even able to stand." Kurt's eyes lingered on the shallow gouge at her throat.

"You're either very brave or very stupid, freulien." he sneered at her.

An odd expression passed across her face, but her reply was quick... and in perfect German. <"You caught me off guard once. Rest assured that it won't happen twice. I've some healer's training and I'd prefer to help you. If you'd rather I not, it's still nothing I'll lose sleep over.">

Kurt was totally speechless for one of the few times in his life. Having moved within a circle of people to whom English was a first language for a decade or more, his German was rusty to say the least. He'd been almost unable to follow her fluent speech. Rather than blunder through a return reply, he ignored her and addressed himself to Pete.

"Darkholme. Kurt Darkholme." No one reacted visibly. Then Arron's expression changed. "Darkholme?" Nightcrawler watched the man's face, but it gave away nothing.

Pete, mind if I ask him something?

Wisdom's mind was as suspicious as his outward manner. Why the hell're you asking me?

It might bring up the Infernal Gallop.

Ask away, but tread carefully. We don't know who he's with yet. Arron resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Being a former spy tended to make Pete a little more paranoid than most.

The telepath switched to speaking again. "You know Raven?" he asked almost too casually.

Kurt's reply was guarded. "Yes. What of it?"

"I see a certain... resemblance is all." The blue-furred mutant didn't volunteer an answer to the unasked question.

"Odd coincidence, isn't it?"

For some reason or another, the conversation seemed to interest Meggan. "Isn't she the ferryman to Avalon?"

"Was." Came the automatic answer. Kurt could have kicked himself for saying even that much. In one syllable, he had admitted that he knew that Avalon was more than a legend, which meant that he had to know of the Infernal Gallop's mission to smuggle as many people as they could there, and that he knew one of their operatives.

Pete, Arron probed, he knows about Avalon. Don't you think we should-?

Keep your hole shut. Until we know exactly what he's about, we don't tell him anything. Underneath Wisdom's ever-present suspicion was pride in Meggan for having put in a well-timed question. And keep tabs on him tonight, will ya?

Arron had just about had it with Wisdom. He longed to get back to Avalon where he wouldn't have to interact with the man more than absolutely necessary. Yessuh, mawster Wisdom. Arron retorted sarcastically, letting his annoyance show. I'll be a good niggah, mawster.

Up yours, Hlessil.

No one was much in the mood for talk. Curiosity was rampant through all members gathered around the fire, Darkholme included, but no one was about to let on. Nobody could really think of a good reason to say anything, either.

Well, no one except Catseye. She was tossing murderous glances at Darkholme, but was far too angry to come up with words. An attack in return for the indignity of being pinned with a sword would have been much more satisfying than speaking anyway. But she had a feeling that Mother Szardos wouldn't appreciate having to heal the stranger up again. Of course, an easy way to fix that would be to simply disembowel blue-stink-Kurt-enemy. What was dead couldn't be healed...

Jemaine, seated by Sharon once again, sensed that her friend was out of sorts and started gently scratching the "cat's" ears. Catseye's rumble of annoyance changed to one of pleasure as she tried to calm herself. Later.

Blood right now would upset Mother Szardos. Later, though...

Pete finally broke the silence. "Look, Darkholme, if you stay or go, it's all the same to us. But make up your mind." Pete Wisdom was an accomplished liar. If Darkholme left, Pete and company would pick themselves up and get the hell out of there, aches and weariness be damned. The mission that they were on was too important to risk anyone tipping off any of 'Pocky's people to their location. Nothing the Madri would like better than to shut down a part of the Gallop. There was no reason to let this Darkholme plonker think that they were anything but another group of sods trying to scratch out an existence in the rubble of Western civilization.

Kurt's reply was non-verbal. He just stretched out in the same spot that he'd been in a few minutes earlier. He was feeling to ill to even consider another teleport and getting out on foot was a most unappealing idea as well. Pile the fact that he had no idea where he was or how he'd gotten there or what these people'd had to do with it, and the only thing in the world that seemed relevant was several hours of uninterrupted sleep.

As Meggan stood against the night on first watch, the others followed suit.

To Be Continued in part 5...