Date: Friday, January 21, 2011, 8:00 am
Location: Cactus High, Cactus City, Texas
Flashback
The faint static hum of the jet's comms link had long since faded, but Professor Xavier's voice resonated in Laura's mind with a familiar, quiet urgency. "Laura, my dear," he'd begun, "this is a delicate matter. A powerful mutant signature, an Omega-level anomaly manifesting uniquely… we've been tracking it, or rather, trying to track it, for about a year and a half now."
Laura remembered the initial briefings, dating back to when the first faint, chaotic energy spikes had registered on Cerebro. There were excited whispers among the X-Men at discovering an Omega-level mutant, a power on par with the strongest on Earth, but unlike anything they'd encountered. It wasn't just powerful; it was elusive. "The signal is incredibly difficult to pinpoint," Xavier continued, his tone tinged with a frustration Laura rarely heard from him, a weariness born of a prolonged, fruitless hunt. "Almost as if their abilities are… naturally disrupting our attempts to locate them. It's a living shield, a constant scramble of energy that deflects our every probe. We've exhausted every remote avenue, every satellite scan, every telepathic sweep. Nothing has worked. It's like trying to catch smoke in a net."
He'd detailed the fruitless efforts that spanned eighteen months: Storm's attempts to track atmospheric disturbances that vanished into thin air, Jean Grey's exhaustive, mind-straining telepathic searches across continents, even Beast's highly theoretical, experimental energy dampeners that had proven useless against this unique signature. Each attempt met with the same result—a vague, swirling pattern of energy that defied all analysis, leaving behind only tantalizing hints of immense power. The source remained a ghost, known only by its disruptive footprint.
"However," Xavier had finally concluded, his voice sharpening with a flicker of renewed hope, "in the last few months, we've managed to narrow down the general area. A recent, anomalous surge provided just enough of a window. We believe it's a young individual, male, around sixteen years old, now definitively pinpointed to Cactus, Texas. The pattern still suggests raw, untrained elemental abilities, flaring erratically, almost subconsciously, in response to emotional states. We need boots on the ground. Observe, assess, and if safe to do so, make contact. Discretion is paramount."
Laura had received the mission only last month, the latest and most promising lead in an eighteen-month search. Just before she left, in the quiet hum of the hanger bay, Rogue had pulled her into a surprisingly tight hug. "You be careful out there, sugah. We're gonna miss havin' you around, you hear?"
Laura stiffened for a moment, then subtly relaxed into the embrace. "I'll be fine."
Then Kitty Pryde had phased through a wall, a mischievous grin on her face. "Yeah, try not to get into too much trouble without us. Who's gonna cover your back when you inevitably decide to punch through a wall instead of using the door?"
Laura shot her a dry look. "I use doors."
Rogue chuckled. "Sure you do, darlin'. Just not always the conventional way." She squeezed Laura's shoulder.
"Seriously though, Laura. Keep in touch. We worry."
Kitty bounced on the balls of her feet. "And hey," she'd nudged Laura playfully, her eyes sparkling, "who knows? Maybe you'll find a cute cowboy boyfriend out there in Texas! You could finally have someone to teach you how to... line dance?" She mimed a clumsy shuffle, making Rogue snort with laughter.
Laura's lips twitched, a rare, almost imperceptible smirk touching them. "Not likely," she grunted, though the corner of her eye softened. "I'll focus on the mission."
Just then, Logan appeared from the shadows, his presence a familiar, grounding weight. He didn't say anything, just opened his arms. Laura stepped into his embrace, a quick, firm hug that spoke volumes without words. It was a silent promise of his unwavering support, a quiet understanding of the burdens she carried. He pulled back first, meeting his gaze for a long moment.
"You got this, kid," Logan rumbled, his voice gravelly but soft. "Just remember what I taught ya."
Laura gave a single, firm nod. "Always."
He gave her a final, firm nod back. She had simply nodded to Xavier, the assignment etched into her very being. She was a hunter, a tracker. If something was out there, something so powerful it could evade the X-Men for a year and a half, she would find it. This was her purpose.
Date: Monday, February 21, 2011, 8:00 am
Location: Cactus High, Cactus City, Texas
Present Day
Cactus, Texas. It felt like a million miles from anywhere, a sleepy, dusty town baking under a relentless sun, a place time seemed to have forgotten. The kind of place where an Omega-level mutant might hide, not by design, but by sheer, unassuming anonymity. Her new alias, the meticulously crafted fake records, the battered motorcycle she'd ridden in on—it was all just part of the familiar rhythm of the job. She'd rolled into town late last night, secured the small rental house on the outskirts, its windows rattling faintly in the hot, dry breeze. Now, here she was, on her first day at Cactus High. Another mission, another place to blend in. Or at least, to try.
She pushed open the main office door, the air thick with the smell of cheap coffee and old paper, a faint scent of industrial cleaner cutting through it. The secretary, a woman with a towering beehive hairdo and a name tag that read "Brenda," barely glanced up from her computer. "Name?"
"Laura Kinney," she stated, her voice flat, devoid of inflection. She handed over the meticulously forged transfer papers, complete with a fabricated backstory of moving from a distant, unnamed city after a family relocation. Brenda scanned the documents, her eyes narrowing briefly over a detail before shrugging and reaching for the phone. "Vice Principal Davies, your new student is here."
Minutes later, a man with a neatly trimmed mustache and a perpetually harried expression emerged from an inner office. He looked like he'd just swallowed something sour. "Ms. Kinney? I'm Vice Principal Davies. Welcome to Cactus High. Apologies for the rush, but you've arrived just as lunch is about to start. I'll get you settled, then we can sort out your schedule." He gestured down a crowded hallway, the cacophony of teenage chatter assaulting her enhanced senses. Every laugh, every whispered secret, every rustle of clothing, every creak of worn sneakers seemed amplified, a chaotic symphony that most people tuned out.
Kids stared, their eyes lingering on her worn leather jacket, her heavy combat boots, the distinct absence of a smile on her face. They weren't hostile, just curious, a little wary. She met their gazes, unflinching, a silent challenge in her eyes. Let them stare. She wasn't here to make friends. She was here to find a ghost that had evaded the best for a year and a half.
Vice Principal Davies led her through the bustling corridors, past lockers plastered with faded flyers for football games and student council elections, past bulletin boards overflowing with announcements about bake sales and prom. "The cafeteria's usually a good starting point for new students," he explained, pushing open a set of double doors, the sound of the lunch rush immediately intensifying. "Get you accustomed to the... lively atmosphere."
The sudden roar of hundreds of conversations, the clanging of trays, the scraping of chairs, and the insistent rhythm of hundreds of chewing mouths hit Laura like a physical wave. The cafeteria was a maelstrom of activity, a sensory overload that would cripple an ordinary person. For her, it was a data stream, every sound, every scent, every minute tremor in the floor, a piece of information to be processed. Her gaze swept over the sea of faces, scanning, assessing, looking for any anomaly. And then she saw him.
He was at a table near the large windows, a shaft of sunlight illuminating dust motes dancing around his head. Even seated, he seemed to tower over the other students, his frame broader and more developed than the lanky teenagers around him. He had the build of an athlete and was tall for his age. Dark hair framed good features, a strong jawline, and eyes that seemed to miss nothing. He was talking to a small group of friends, laughing easily, a deep, resonant sound that carried surprisingly well over the cafeteria noise. For a split second, she felt it—a faint, almost imperceptible tremor in the air around him, a subtle shift in pressure that only her heightened senses would have registered. It was gone as quickly as it came, easily dismissed as the ventilation system kicking on, or an idle movement from someone at the table, or even just the reverberation of the loud cafeteria.
But it made her look closer. He was… popular. Not in an obnoxious, loud way, but in the effortless manner of someone genuinely liked. The way other kids gravitated to him, the way they listened when he spoke, the easy confidence in his posture. He was the kind of kid who likely excelled at sports, the kind who commanded attention without demanding it. He had a quiet intensity, a steady gaze that held a certain… appeal. Laura registered the strong curve of his jaw, the way his dark eyes crinkled slightly at the corners when he laughed. Unexpectedly, a flicker of something unfamiliar stirred within her. He was… undeniably cute. The thought surfaced unbidden, a surprising distraction from her mission. The "cool and quiet guy," she'd overheard someone whisper earlier as she walked past a group of gossiping girls. He was the golden boy, the king of the high school caste system.
Could he be the target? Her mind immediately churned through the probabilities, layering them over Xavier's detailed, year-and-a-half-long dossier of what they thought they knew. The subject was powerful, raw, and unrefined. Charles had emphasized the difficulty in locating them, the chaotic signature that repelled all psychic and technological probes. This kid, this Julius Valdez, looked like the epitome of normalcy, too composed, too perfectly put-together. If he wielded elemental powers of an Omega level, why was he so contained? The signature Charles described was chaotic, almost wild, like an untrained storm. This kid looked perfectly calm, perfectly normal.
Her internal analysis dismissed him. No, it couldn't be the popular jock. It was almost certainly someone else, someone hidden deeper in the shadows, someone like her. Someone who instinctively knew how to disappear. Still, she made a mental note. Keep an eye on him, just in case. Anomalies, she knew, could hide in plain sight, sometimes even within the most unassuming of veneers. After a year and a half of fruitless searching, and finally narrowing it down to this town just last month, she couldn't afford to overlook any possibility, no matter how unlikely.
Vice Principal Davies cleared his throat, his voice cutting through the din. "Now, Laura, if you don't mind, I must return to my office. Lots of... pressing matters." He spotted Julius, who had just stood up from his table, gathering his tray. "Ah, Julius Valdez! Perfect. Julius, would you mind showing Laura around the school after lunch? You're one of our most reliable students, and you know this place better than anyone."
Julius, with that same easy confidence, glanced at Laura. His eyes held a quiet intensity that belied his casual demeanor. He nodded. "Sure, Mr. Thompson."
Laura felt a flicker of annoyance, a familiar frustration rising. Of course, they'd pick the golden boy. This was going to be a waste of time, a forced exercise in politeness for which she had no patience. She'd rather be scouting the ventilation systems for hidden access tunnels or mapping out the town's electrical grid for power fluctuations. She slung her backpack over her shoulder, the familiar weight of it comforting, and gave him a curt nod as he approached.
"Hey," he said, his voice surprisingly soft for someone with such an athletic build. "I'm Julius."
"Laura," she replied, her tone flat, a wall erected between them. She wasn't interested in small talk; she just wanted the tour over so she could get to work, to continue the year-and-a-half-long hunt for the real target.
He led her through the bustling hallways, which were slowly emptying as students headed to their next classes. He navigated the lingering throngs effortlessly. Her enhanced senses picked up on the subtle tremors in the floor as he moved, the minute shifts in airflow around him, almost like a faint, unseen current. He pointed out the library, a surprisingly large gym, the now-empty cafeteria, and the various classroom wings. He delivered facts in a straightforward, no-nonsense manner that she grudgingly found efficient, devoid of the irritating forced cheerfulness she'd come to expect from authority figures. Still, the forced politeness of the situation was grating.
"And this," he said, gesturing towards a brightly colored mural on the wall depicting a longhorn mascot, its eyes comically wide, "is where Coach Miller once tried to convince the art club to paint a picture of him riding a unicorn. They... declined."
Laura expected a cheesy grin or some awkward, cringeworthy attempt at shared humor. Instead, he just offered a slight, almost shy smile, a genuine amusement playing in his eyes. However, the image of the gruff football coach, a man whose bellowing she'd already heard reverberating from the gym, on a glittery unicorn caught her completely off guard. A sharp, unexpected sound escaped her lips. It wasn't a snort, exactly, but it was close. A genuine, unbidden laugh, a short, sharp burst of air and sound, bubbled up from deep within her, a sound she hadn't made in… she couldn't remember how long. It felt strange, foreign, a little rusty, but oddly liberating.
Julius's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of genuine surprise in them before his own smile widened, a touch of warmth entering his gaze. "Yeah, he was pretty disappointed," he added, a hint of shared amusement in his tone. "Said it would really motivate the team."
The tension around Laura's shoulders, a constant companion for a year and a half, eased. For the first time all day, she wasn't just on a mission, wasn't just processing data. She was... listening and and talking.
"So, what kind of place is Cactus?" she asked, her voice losing its habitual edge, curiosity truly piqued.
Julius paused, leaning against a locker, seemingly in no rush. "It's… home," he said, looking around the empty hallway as if seeing it anew. "Hot, dusty, mostly football and church. Everyone knows everyone. Not a lot of secrets here. Or at least, not usually." He caught her eye then, a knowing glint in his gaze, a subtle flicker that made her pause. He wasn't just talking about the town; he was talking about something deeper, something unspoken.
"Not usually?" Laura echoed, her brows slightly furrowed, a genuine question in her tone rather than a dismissal. It was the first time she'd actively pursued a conversation beyond the bare minimum.
Julius's smile softened. "Yeah. People here tend to keep things pretty quiet. We're a tight-knit community. Good for some things, not so great for others. You know, like if you're trying to figure out where the best diner is, everyone knows. If you're trying to hide a secret… well, that's harder." He gave her a thoughtful look, as if weighing her reaction.
Laura considered this, the words resonating more than she expected. "Sounds… complicated."
"It can be," he conceded with a shrug. "But it's also comforting, in a way. You always know where you stand. And if you need help, you've got it. So, where are you from, Laura? You don't sound like you're from around here."
The question was direct, but his tone was open, not intrusive. Laura hesitated, then gave a truncated version of her cover story. "Moving around. My dad's... work." She kept her gaze steady, daring him to press.
He didn't. Instead, he nodded. "Right. The 'my dad works somewhere that's always moving' story. Hear that a lot in military towns, but not so much out here. Must be tough, always new schools." There was genuine empathy in his voice, not pity.
"It is," she admitted, surprised by her own honesty. The word felt strange, alien, on her tongue. "Most places are just… places."
Julius pushed off the locker, a small smile playing on his lips. "Well, maybe Cactus can be more than just 'a place' for you. Give it a shot. And if you need anything, like, directions, or the best place to get a decent burger – it's the 'Longhorn Grill,' by the way – just ask. Navigating Cactus High can be a maze, even for old-timers." He offered another of his soft, easy smiles. "I mean, even Coach Miller probably gets lost without his unicorn map."
Laura almost laughed again. The image still got her. "I'll keep that in mind, Julius," she said, a hint of something akin to amusement in her own voice. The words felt less like a formality and more like a promise. For the first time, the idea of being in this dusty, unassuming town felt less like a cold assignment and more like… a place. And for a few stolen moments, it felt like she might actually be making a friend. A real one. A complication she hadn't anticipated, but one that was starting to feel less like a burden