Bio-Hazard Girl: I've Had Enough of Texas

[x-scorpion.livejournal.com]

After a day of investigation. The team is still looking. First, Crystal and Jennie search Montrose...

Now that the weather was drier the flood waters of the last couple days had started to recede. It left in its wake a chemical smell. Some places still had an inch or so of water on the streets and the CDC people were picking up what dead animals there were to be found, but for the most part people were going about business as usual.

Montrose, an area of Houston dotted with bars and restaurants, second hand shopping, thrift stores and even sex shops were populated with people who didn't all fit the stereotypical Texan look. There were punks, hippies, goths, and others walking the streets like nothing was wrong. Though people did stop to look at the occasional floating squirrel or pigeon or stare at the CDC people who had invaded the area. Snippets of conversation that could be heard covered everything. Though a lot of people were tossing theories back and forth about what had happened.

There were more than enough places to start looking.

As she had done the few previous times Crystal had found herself out with the X-Men, Crystal had colored her naturally blonde hair. In order to stay low-key, she had chosen a natural-looking color this time, and was now a brunette. In this particular part of Houston, however, it seemed that green or burgundy hair wouldn't call any sort of extra attention to a person at all. It didn't appear that the two young women walking around in normally-unusual tight leather outfits were out of place here at all. Crystal viewed the area through the Oakley sunglasses that completed her "disguise", then turned to Jennie, waiting for her former roommate to take the lead.

The girl next to her tilted her head this way and that, squinting. To an outside observer, it simply seemed like Jennie merely needed glasses, but in reality she was using the "luck" aspect of her powers, trying to get a lead on ...something. So far it was a big blank, and both girls were out of luck. Jennie sighed. "Nada," she said.

"I suppose that it would help if we had a more specific idea of who or what we are looking for," Crystal mused out loud. "I do not suppose that the girl wishes to be found; otherwise, there would be more reports of injuries or deaths inflicted by an actual person in person."

"We could just be dealing with an accidental ...type...thingy," Jennie muttered somewhat distractedly before shutting her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. "I'm getting a headache. You want we should ask around?"

Crystal nodded. "Yes, I believe that this would be a good idea."

Monet and Terry search a more interesting place...

Monet sighed. "You know, we haven't tried the sex shop yet and I'm willing to bet that they were open during the fight. Maybe they saw something more than the whole lot of nothing we got so far?"

Terry eyed the window, full of mannequins wearing what might generously be called dresses. She rather liked the blue one with the spangles. "I didn't think they allowed these in this state. It's a bit out of place, isn't it though?" Tilting her head to the side, she tugged on her braid and gave Monet's suggestion some thought. "Sure then, let's try it. They're bound to be bored."

"Sure." Monet waltzed in past the rack of dildos, muttering quietly enough that only Terry could have heard, "Wow, some of those are kind of enormous..." She leaned against the counter and smiled at the attendant. "Hey, about that fight in the pub down the road the other night?"

They were, in fact, and Terry slowed a little to get a better, speculative look. She caught up a second later and tried to look vaguely authoritative. In theory, she was in charge here after all. And she definitely wasn't here to go shopping.

The man behind the counter shook his head. "What about it? I only work days here, so I don't know anything about it." He paused for a moment, scratched his head. "Are you with the police or something? Jayden was working then but he's visiting his gran'ma in Kentucky till Friday because he got flooded out."

Terry flicked out something that could have been an official badge then tucked it away, "SHIELD, actually. We're with the federal government. Do you have Jayden's number on hand? We can use any information that we can get."

"SHIELD? Jaysus. You handle, like, mutants and things, right?" Jayden whistled, impressed. SHIELD agents. At his work. This was, offically, the coolest thing ever. "Here..." he said, flipping through a notepad and writing down a cell phone number, a Kentucky number and two others. "Those two are for his girlfriend Renee. You might be able to get him there if he's got his phone turned off again." SHIELD agents. Duuuuude.

"Something like that," Terry agreed dryly. She handed the numbers off to Monet. "Thank you for your cooperation. We'll be sure to get back in touch if there's anything else that you can do to assist our investigation."


Elsewhere, Cammie finally comes to, and runs into someone she didn't expect.

Cammie didn't so much wake up the morning (or was it afternoon or the next day?) after the fight as she did suddenly regain consciousness due to a burning pain in her side. She opened her eyes, the gumminess from what little sleep/reprieve she had gotten keeping the vision blurry.

She rolled to the side off of the pile of blankets, old clothes and insulation she had managed to make into something resembling a bed and put her hands to her side, the proof that last night/whenever was not a bad dream came in the form of a wet palm. She was bleeding through the bandage now.

Who in their right mind brings a knife to a fist fight? she thought with a grimace. Even though a fight was, ironically, a thing with no rules you did expect people to follow certain conventions. She unwrapped the binding she had made from tearing one of her shirts she pulled the cotton she had taken from the an unused tampon off the wound, fibers still sticking to her side.

It was still oozing black blood, but not nearly as bad as before. Applying pressure had apparently done some good. She stood up and slowly made her way to the bottom floor of the old warehouse she had holed herself up in. There was still a few inches of water on the ground peppered with thousands of dead roaches and the occasional dead rat. Without even blinking at that, she walked over to an old steel drum that was filled with water of dubious quality and the first thing she did was stick her head in and wash her face. Followed by a drink. The water was sweet, meaning there was something in it. Well, it wasn't like it would kill her.

After that, she put in the shirt she had been wearing over the bandage and started to wash off the wound. Cleaning it off, rebinding it and putting on layers that she hadn't ended up bleeding on she went over her options in her mind. She didn't know for sure what had happened to the person decided to redecorate her body via a hole in her side, but she wasn't going to stay in Houston long enough to get caught for it. Cops tended to believe the nice, friendly non-mutant boys as opposed to the little, sarcastic, mutant girl.

She had to restock a few things and get out of town. Cammie knew that much. She might even find a way to pay for a bike or something to do it. Bus tickets were traceable, but she was owed at least one favor by one of the local hock shops here. She could fake something.

Even feeling woozy she managed to finish getting dressed after redressing her wound and took stock. She needed more tampon-cotton to keep blood from breaking through the bandage. She hadn't exactly planned on using them that way so she only had four left. She needed new boots, her right one smelled like her own blood and was ruined and she had about sixty dollars to make this all happen.

Braiding her hair she pulled up the hood on her dark green sweater and checked the ace bandage over her left arm and hand, only her fingers were sticking out and right now they weren't that dark of a green. She'd have to keep it hidden. That being said, she poked her head out the window of the place she had been staying in, and bag over her shoulder slid to the ground with a splash and a grimace when the coast was clear.

"Oww," she muttered, her hand going to her right side again as her vision blurred and she caught her bearings before heading towards the open streets. Hopefully she'd be lucky today and nothing would go wrong and she could be gone by tomorrow morning.

Kurt had struck lucky on his search, almost literally stepping in a clue - a smear on the pavement of what looked a lot like the description of the substance on the dead man's face, and smelled like nothing he'd ever encountered before. Seeing more of it further along, he followed the trail. He'd guessed the girl would head for the less occupied part of town, and it seemed he'd been right.

Cammie walked right past someone, not caring about anyone else at the moment. She had a hole in her side, after all, it was a bit more pressing than anyone else stuck in the same miserable place as her. She wasn't the only homeless person stuck out here, after all.

At least she hadn't run right into him, she almost did, but she had a hard time seeing straight right now.

He was dressed undistinctively, and the image inducer did the rest, so she likely wouldn't have looked twice at him anyway... but Kurt looked twice at her, once a casual glance and then, noticing her hunched shuffle and the hand pressed to her side, a more careful study.

She had green hair.

He turned, let her go a few yards further on, then started to follow her.

Cammie had to stop a moment and took a second to pull up her shirt slightly and make sure the bandage was tight. It felt like it was slipping down. But it was a quick job. Normally, if she got cut she was able to stitch it shut herself. She hadn't this time. Not that she hadn't tried and had the needle wounds to show for it. It was just in a bad place. Convinced that was still okay she took another second before moving again and looking out of the alley into the street.

Oh. Oh shit. There weren't many dead animals around like there were with the roaches and the rats back at her "place" but there were people collecting pigeons and squirels off of the street here. Official looking people.

"Oh... fuck."

Hopefully no one was looking for her.

Kurt couldn't move as fast as he'd once been able to, without using his powers at least, but even with the limp he was gaining ground now she'd stopped. He started to hurry once he caught a glimpse of the activity beyond the girl. If she was who he thought, or even wasn't, with that hair, things could go badly if she was seen.

"I do not think you should go out there", he said quietly from behind her. "They are looking for a mutant."

Cammie stiffened and turned her head, too hurting to whirl around on short notice and hit the guy, which was her first inclination.

Which, obviously had worked out so well earlier.

"Yeah, whatever. It's hair dye," she lied. She pulled off the teenaged punk thing rather well, she thought. "Like you even care anyway," she grumbled.

"I do, in fact", was the mild response. "I mean you only well, and I would not want to see anyone hurt by the scared and impulsive."

She raised a pierced eyebrow at that and then snorted, "Thanks, but whatever you're selling I'm not interested." Maybe this was one of those religious things. In which case he really could shove it up his ass.

She shifted her bag up on her shoulder to try to make the weight more comfortable, "Some of us have stuff to do," she said, before turning her attention back to the street. Like turn sixty dollars and a disaster into a quick way out. She would just keep away from cops.

"You are hurt", Kurt pointed out. "I could tell that the moment I saw you. How far do you think you will get, untreated?" It was a shot in the dark, but one he thought had a chance of working. He was reluctant to take the next option just yet, not without knowing how she'd react.

"I'm fine, really," she said, dripping sarcasm as she stepped towards the street waving him off with her left hand, not even thinking about it. Most of it was bandaged, but the fingers and their color were visible. It would heal. And it wouldn't get infected even if she suddenly had the urge to sprinkle nail rust in the wound. A thought, which oddly enough made her realize she was hungry. She'd take care of that later.

Like when she was a few hundred miles out of Houston.

"I do not think you are." He looked at her hand, now clearly visible. "And I do not think your hair is dyed, either, any more than my skin is painted." Before she could question the last statement, he stepped back into the shadows of the alley, out of sight from the street, and turned off his image inducer.

Cammie's eyes widened and she took a step backward. It wasn't that she had anything against physical mutations. She knew a guy in Chicago who had scales (and she thought it looked so good on him) but the first time you saw one you always did a double take.

And this almost looked demonic. Not that she believed in that shit, but it still startled her.

"Holy shit," okay whatever had happened the other night, people had apparently called in the big guns. (She hadn't herd about mutants hunting mutants for anyone, but there was a first time for everything.)

She turned to take off running, well, as fast as she could with a hole in her side.

Kurt sighed, disappointed but unsurprised, and teleported to the street, just in the mouth of the alley. The little device went back on instantly now people could see him, just to be on the safe side, and he looked at her, hands raised, open and empty. "I came here to help you. I know what happened."

She stopped and looked back behind her a moment and then back in front of her, like she couldn't quite figure out how he had gotten in front of her. The question of 'how did you do that' was unspoken because it was obviously just what he did.

Like how she hurt people. Not that she liked to, it always managed to just happen. Though this had to be the biggest accident in a very long time.

"No, you don't," she said simply.

"There was a fight", he said equally simply, "but not one you started, and you were coming off worse. You were hurt - we know there was a knife - and you fought back with what you had. It was self-defence." But, he didn't say, she'd have a hard time making the local law enforcement believe that.

"Yeah, so what? The cops send you?" She snapped. Surprised that she wasn't being accused of it. The type of guys they were seemed like the type that would say she started it. Yeah, she flicked them off, and she might have taken the one's wallet (she honestly didn't remember) but she didn't start the fight. But she finished it.

Not the way she wanted to. But it was still finished.

"The police only suspect that you exist", Kurt told her frankly, leaning against the wall at the end of the alley. "They are investigating, and so are the CDC, but so far what happened is a mystery to everyone but my team."

"Your team?" Cammie asked, taking a glance around looking for another way out. The idea of more than one person with this person wasn't comforting at all right now. This guy couldn't be everywhere at once. And CDC... she had to think on that, wasn't that the Center of Disease Control? What the hell happened while she was sleeping?

There was another end to the alley, the way she'd come in, but given the way he'd appeared in front of her before, it was hardly a safe bet.

"We are here to help", he repeated. "We have a safe haven, some way from here, and we do not think you meant to hurt anyone. If you are caught and they confirm your involvement, you will not be kindly treated."

Even if it wasn't a safe bet she was starting, slowly, in that direction. "Yeah, good thing then I'm not black too, I'd be totally screwed." She liked Texas for a variety of reasons. The first and foremost, it was warm. In the winter this was a big deal for her. And it wasn't really over populated with hicks in the big cities. But it had it's issues. Everyone and their brother carried guns and some of the people down here loved having a reason to shoot first and ask questions later.

She was just thankful it was only a knife wound in her side.

"Are you still bleeding?" Kurt asked abruptly, taking a step or two after her. "Your arm, your side... if they decide they are looking for a person, there will be dogs."

"Back off," she returned. "I can handle dogs," she returned. They bit her and then they died. It was sad, but that was the way of things.

"Can you still handle dogs if you are unconscious?"

That made her pause for a moment, giving her the image of being buried under a bunch of dead and dying dogs. Another couple of steps towards the alley out were taking, "They just have bite me," she said darkly.

"And if they do not bite you? Some dogs are trained not to. Or what if they are not alone, and you are found helpless?" His voice was pointed, and he was following her determinedly. "There is a place in New York, as I told you. You would be safe, we could treat your wounds, and then if you chose you would be free to go."

"Stay back," Cammie said again. She learned, and learned quickly if something sounded too good to be true that it likely was. "I can't be around people," she said. It was what happened when you were a monster. Freaks like her though.. even then, she had her doubts.

"You saw what my blood does," and he didn't know what she could do when she tried.

"I did", he confirmed, "or our doctor did, but that is not your fault. And you would not be the only one at the institute who would need to be careful. We have a young girl there with skin like a razor, and my own sister's mutation means she can touch no one skin to skin. We could help you learn control, or at least ways to deal with it."

Cammie would've turned and ran but the next step backward with her right foot pulled something wrong in her side and her eyes widened for a moment as she swallowed the reaction from that. "Yeah, but what do you want for all that?" she managed. Oh, that burned. Did she just manage to open it up even more?

"Nothing you do not volunteer to give. You will not even be asked for anything unless you broach the subject first." He started to step forward at the sign of pain, but stopped himself. "Will you at least meet our doctor, so she can look at your side?"

"How's she going to do anything without touching my blood," Cammie snapped, "I have a hole in my side right now that apparently has taken care of the pigeon, roach and rat problem in Houston because someone decided it'd be funny to bring a knife to a fist fight." And she was starting to feel light headed from being on her feet for so long right after this. "And that's not even what I do when I'm trying."

"You have bled openly", Kurt said calmly. "Who knows how the animals came into contact with your blood? She would wear gloves, and if necessary, she is a telekinetic. I can call her here now."

"Look, I-" She forgot the snappy reply she had lined up for that as a wave of sudden dizziness hit. She had been light headed since she woke up this morning (afternoon?) and though this wasn't the first time she had to move right after an injury, but this was the worst one yet. The world went black and white as she fell towards the ground, consciousness flickering on and off like a light. Her bodily state finally had caught up with her stubbornness.

Kurt leapt forward as she started to fall, stumbling a little on his own stiff leg, and managed to catch her just in time to ease her the rest of the way to the ground.

"Ugh... I don't feel so good," she managed. At least the ground here was dry.

"I am not surprised", he said grimly, looking down at his black-smeared hand where he'd touched her side. "I am going to call someone now, and then we are going somewhere safe. Do not try to walk."

"I'm bleeding again, aren't I?" she muttered. She didn't want to hurt anyone else, or hurt anyone in the first place she just wanted to be left alone except on those occasions where she felt like punching someone's face in. She didn't protest him calling anyone now.

"Yes", was the simple answer as he wiped his hand on his shirt, then rummaged for his phone.

Jean and Zanne discuss events while having slightly less luck.

"Not down here," Jean said with a sigh, eyeing the boxes set out in the back alley behind the club. They'd been searching through all the alleys in the area - a less than pleasant process, given they couldn't assume Jean would be able to find the girl telepathically it involved a lot more peering into piles of discarded rubbish than either of them really wanted. Particularly as there were still puddles pretty much everywhere they had to be cautious of.

Zanne clanged down the last few steps of the fire escape she'd been exploring. "Or up there, either. All of the doors and windows are locked. You don't think she'd try to find her way into the sewers, do you?" She didn't really think so -- having been surrounded by teenage girls for the last six months, she was pretty sure it it would take an act of real desperation to get one of them anywhere near a sewer -- but it was possibly worth considering.

"I really hope not," Jean said, heading towards where the alley hit the cross street. "If she is connected to the contagion we really don't want her anywhere near ground water sources." She eyed the next block's worth of alley across the street. "What do you think, further down this one or move over and try the next one? There's fewer lights down that way, she might have been looking for cover."

"Why don't we try across the street," Zanne cast one last lingering glance around the alleyway before following Jean. "If she's really scared, she's going to try to get as far away as she can." A thought occurred to her. "If she is connected to the contagion, what are we going to do with her when we find her?"

"Help her," Jean said, since that was the only bit she was a hundred percent on. "If nothing else, she's been stabbed. And if she is the source of the poison in the water, somehow, she didn't do it on purpose."

Zanne had frankly been hoping for an answer that involved getting their hands on some containment suits, but she supposed Jean was at as much of a loss as she was. The alleyway across the street branched off into several darkened corridors. A loud clatter came from the furthest one, followed by a scrambling noise. Zanne started in the direction of the retreating noise."C'mon!"

Jean was hot on her heels as they hurried down the alley. "Careful," she said, although she doubted Zanne needed the reminder. "Don't get too close, and don't scare her..."

Slipping around the darkened corner, Zanne could see a rustle of movement coming from a refuse-piled dumpster. Oh God, she didn't really crawl into the trash, did she? "Hey Carmilla? Are you in there?"

Contrary to both of their hopes it turned out the answer was definitely 'no'. The rustle gave way to a startling and somewhat horrific yowl as a scarred, angry tom leaped out, hissing, before bolting away from the two women.

Jean jerked back, startled, then sighed as she made out what the creature was moments before it fled. "Damn," she muttered. "On to the next..." she started, but was cut off by the ringing of her phone. Pulling it out she glanced down, then flipped it open, mouthing 'Kurt' at Zanne.

Cammie gets a patch job better than she could do on her own, and a chance that - all things considered - she really couldn't pass up.

Jean and Zanne made good time largely because when the phone call came through Jean decided to skip the traffic and they'd simply gone up, with only a little bit of telepathic persuasion to keep people from noticing the two flying women. They were down and Jean was kneeling next to the fallen girl before she even registered Kurt's presence. Checking her vitals Jean finally glanced up, then paused. "Kurt, you really need to wash that hand off properly. Zanne, can you freeze time and get her shirt off, we need to make sure no more splashes out."

Zanne crouched by the girl. "Get back a bit," she advised the others, "otherwise I'm going to catch you guys in it, too." Setting a soft freeze she began to work on slipping the fabric over the girl's head. Zanne's fingers accidently brushed over the bandaged wound, dislodging it. "Oh, hell."

Kurt was standing ready for a hasty teleport if it seemed necessary, watching what Zanne was doing very carefully. He did answer Jean's words, though, looking down at his hand. "Calling you seemed more important. There are no cuts on my hand, I will wash it when there is clean water."

Jean gave him a Look. "If you get yourself sick I'm setting Amanda on you," she said, before turning her attention back to Zanne's bubble.

The shirt came off with a final tug, and Zanne dragged it to the ground beside her. The wound looked nasty and raw, and she winced as she tried to smooth the bandage back into place. It wasn't going to stay there long, she realized, wishing that she'd has the foresight to grab a first aid kit before she'd started. "I need a bag for the shirt, I think," she said, standing a little unsteadily as she let the freeze go, "And probably some of that disinfectant for me..."

While Crystal would have been able to arrive faster had she flown, the already-concerned populace didn't need extra concerns added to their worries of contamination and possible death, so she and Jennie arrived at the scene on foot. Unlike Jean, Crystal couldn't make people not notice her physical presence, hence the need for going out of her way to go in disguise when she needed to conceal her identity, just as she was doing now. "What can I do?" Crystal asked, quickly standing close to Jean after checking to see that there was no unusual contamination in the air around them.

Jean moved forward as soon as the freeze was released, kneeling next to the girl with her medical bag, eyeing the wound. Eying the black blood she grimaced - at least it was unlikely she was going to need antibiotics for this. Pulling out her sterile needle and medical thread, as well as clean bandages, she pushed the bag back towards the others. "Crystal, take that and Kurt and Zanne, find some safe water and get them clean."

"You should find some if you head thataway," Jennie said, pointing to the southeast. She then knelt down by the girl, hands glowing a softly white. A couple of tugs on a few lines and the sterile needle threaded with no problem. Jennie looked up at Jean. "You shouldn't have any problems with that, and she looks stable enough. Right now anyway."

Jean offered Jennie a little smile for the aid, then her focus narrowed and the needle lifted out of her hands, floating out to begin her work.

Monet and Terry arrived then, having made worse time than anyone else and Monet soaked from the waist down from the spil she'd taken in an unexpectedly deep puddle. "There's clean water over there, you said? Good." Everything else seemed to be under control so she followed Kurt and the others across to clean up.

Terry looked around the scene and determined that she was going to be the next thing to useless in this situation. She started walking a perimeter instead, pushing back anyone creeping close enough with a stern word augmented with a bit of power.

It didn't take that long for Jean to stitch the girl up, although she took more care with the bandaging than might otherwise have been necessary - by the time she was done, not a drop of blood would be seeping through. Eventually, though, she looked up from her work, catching Jennie's eye. "We need to get her somewhere safe. None of this was her fault."

Cammie's eyes opened right then. She didn't jerk forward or anything like that, she was hurting too much for that. But she did wince, "Okay, who the hell are you?" she muttered, looking over at whoever had just spoken. All she had heard was the last of it. The 'her fault.'

Jean's eyes snapped back down and she smiled to see the girl had woken up. "I'm glad you're awake, dear. You've lost a lot of blood. I'm Dr. Jean Grey-Summers, I work with Kurt."

"'M not your dear," she muttered. Not overly surprised at the blood statement. Well, that explained why she was light headed still. "Don't touch the blood," she warned. Once she could sit up, maybe she could stitch it up herself. "Makes people sick."

"Yes, we know," Jean said. "I've got you all sewn up," the thoughts were right up at the forefront of Cammie's mind, it was hard not to hear them. "The bandages are nice and secure. They'll hold until we can get you somewhere with better facilities."

"Fine. Whatever. As long as it's not in Houston," Cammie said. She had a feeling her welcome was worn here, one way or another, "That guy said you guys had a place," she said, not being able to focus enough to remember exactly what had been said.

Monet, who was still in earshot, nodded. "Oh yeah. We've got a mansion. It's really quite nice, even if it is full of Americans."

"Oh yay," Cammie said, trying to sit up and failing. Things hurt so bad. She would've loved to be able to take something for the pain. "Have to love us Americans," she was awake enough to be sarcastic.

"Of course there are Americans in the mansion, Monet," Crystal said, continuing to form water for the X-Men to use. While she could use her powers to check whether or not water was tainted, at the moment she preferred to use her own abilities to create the needed clean water. "The mansion is in America, after all. Do not make.her think that she is about to be whisked away not only from her city but from her country." With the group assembled there, it could seem to be a possibility. Only two of those present, other than Cammie, had been born in America.

Jean shot Monet a quelling look, then turned back to the girl. "Don't push so hard," she said as Cammie tried to sit up. "Given your blood, I'm assuming you react abnormally to most of the painkillers I have with me, but at the Institute we have a full medical suite, and can look into how we can best help you."

Right now, she wouldn't care if they did whisk her away to some other country, given what happened here. But Houston wasn't her city. It was a place she stayed in the winter, because it was warm. "Pills don't work," she returned, honestly. "Nothing works." But at this point, just getting out of here might help.

"Well, we can investigate that and, if nothing else, at least offer you a comfortable bed while you recover. A bed far away from here." Jean smiled.

Cammie closed her eyes and thought about that for a moment, "Well then, whenever you're ready," she managed after a moment, "I've had e-fucking-nough of Texas."