A Band of Merry Mutants

With grave apprehension, Brian Robespierre paced the makeshift campsite. His dark eyebrows were furrowed in deep thought, plagued by a question that would mean change for everyone he had ever known, for better or worse. Periodically, he would cease his walking, shut his steely blue eyes, and ponder whether he should even be considering this issue: and if he shouldn't, which side was the obvious one? What could he not see? Why could he not see it, when everything else had always been so obvious to him?

This behavior continued for three days and three nights, during which the young man hardly slept, ate, or drank. When he did manage to sleep, he was more often than not jolted awake by nightmares of the possible consequences of his inevitable decision. He saw mutants and humans alike, tearing at each other, shooting each other, ripping off body parts and mutilating faces. And in the end, amidst all of the carnage that HE had wrought, Brian Robespierre alone stood, looking down upon the death and destruction that had been committed in his name. And among the wreckage, among the moans and screams, a collective voice of all the souls that had been lost spoke to him:

"THIS IS YOUR FAULT!"

On the fourth dawn, Brian burst out of his slumber, awakened once again by the horrors of the decision that he now knew he had no choice to make. He slipped on a too-big t-shirt (stolen) and squeezed into his sole pair of too-small jeans (stolen). He fitted his YOLO cap (stolen) to his head and shoved his feet into his torn up Nikes (stolen). God, would anything of his ever not be stolen? Could he ever live as an honest man? Could he ever live at all, if he went through with what he was planning?

Brian walked out of his hut, unique in that he had it all too himself. Slowly, with great trepidation, he approached a young mutant, perhaps thirteen years old, and paused. This was the final chance. If Brian spoke to that boy, there would be no going back. Carefully, the elder boy considered the younger. He looked comparatively innocent, although no one at the camp was entirely innocent, not by a long shot. His power had not manifested itself completely as of yet; he was supposedly a telekinetic, but he was presently struggling to even lift a small rock with his ability. The best he could manage was a small trembling. If Brian spoke to this boy now, there was an extremely high chance that the latter would be dead within the week. And yet...

Brian shook his head. He knew there was no turning back. He had thought, and thought, but there was simply no alternative. He was the greatest thinker this world had ever known, and the clear Oregon sky would turn red with blood if he were to renig. Slowly, haltingly, but pointedly, Brian tapped his compatriot's shoulder. "Solomon."

Solomon turned around, suddenly embarrassed that he had been caught at his inadequacy. His face paled as he looked up into the grave face of his superior. Though he had been gone from the Facility for a while, he still feared authority figures, as they ultimately reminded him of the scientists who had experimented on him in countless sadistic fashions. Recognizing that this particular authority figure was on his side, however, he soon calmed his irrational fear. "Yes, sir? What do you need?"

Brian opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. Too late for second guessing: much too late. "I need you to gather everybody. Get somebody to help you if you need to, but I need everyone at the Stump by noon. Got that? Everybody." There would, of course, be a few no-shows, but even Brian couldn't help that. Solomon would undoubtedly forget a few, and to make a list would be useless: no one but Brian could read.

"Everybody at the Stump by noon! Got it!" Solomon ran off, wondering exactly when noon was and hoping he could ask one of his friends without fear of being ridiculed. He gathered a few boys about his age, and they split up to spread the news to all of the mutants in the camp. When noon came, all that could be found had trickled in to the meeting place to see what the hubbub was about. There were rumors of course: Brian was leaving the group, the group had to move camp, someone was getting kicked out. Some sensationalists even suggested that the Band was going to stage a rescue mission for the prisoners in the Facility.

The clamor of rumor-mongering died down as soon as Brian stood atop the Stump. A hush fell about the group. While they were mostly left to their own affairs, every single boy or girl, man or woman knew that the Stump and the person who stood on it were to be paid the utmost respect and attention. The man standing atop it now looked to them like a shining angel of justice, and indeed that is what he was to become: a crusader for the weak, though at a toll that would most likely prove incredibly high.

Brian Robespierre, chieftain of the Band of merry mutants who had all escaped from the evil Facility, defender of the powerless, provider for those without means, spoke among the crowd. "I have thought long and hard on exactly what it is I will say this day. Many of you have seen me walk around our settlement, deep in thought. Some of you have approached me. You might have been trying to help, and I do appreciate that. But I snapped at you and sent you away, and that was wrong of me. So the first thing I want to tell you today is: I'm sorry.

"But that's not why I have called you here today. I wish it was, I truly do. I wish I could say sorry to you, and then have you be on your way. And yet, I cannot. I cannot with a clear conscience ignore what is going on while we laze away in our meager campsite. I cannot forget with ease the screams of our brother mutants, who are mutilated and murdered each day in the name of 'Progress'. I cannot allow the scientists of the evil Facility to continue their twisted works.

"And so, though I am loathe to say it, and though you are loathe to hear it, I have concluded in my mind what all of our hearts have known for too long. This speech is already too long-winded for its purpose, which, in fact, can be narrowed down to one solitary sentence. It is this: I am going to stage a rescue mission for our fellow mutants." Brian had expected outbursts of anger, nervous breakdowns, cries of anguish at this horrid reveal. However, nothing could prepare him for what actually did follow: complete, mortified silence. The leader looked into the crowd, and what he saw chilled him to the very bone. Each face was frozen in a position of horror. Each and every mind among the audience was experiencing a flashback to the horrors they had endured at the Facility.

It was almost ten seconds before Brian spoke again. "I see that you are all terrified of this prospect. You are not alone. I'm scared shitless, myself. But think. Those terrifying memories are, to you now, merely memories. Horrible memories, sickening, disgusting memories, but mere memories just the same. Not so for the subjects still stuck there. Those people--real, LIVING people!--are living those memories RIGHT NOW. I cannot allow that to continue. I WILL not allow that to continue.

"I am not going to force anyone to come with me. In fact, there are some among you that I will straight up refuse to allow to partake in this attack. I would be grateful, endlessly grateful, if even one of you offered your assistance. But if need be, I will storm the building by myself, and by God I'm going to free every last beautiful abomination in that place. I can't stand idly by and let experimenters kill and maim our brethren. I am going to fight back! I am going to fight tooth and nail! And I'm going to win, or I will DIE before anyone else gets shocked, or dissected, or probed! Now who's with me?!"

At this last outburst, Brian punched the air in defiance. In the clear light of day, a single tear rolled from his eye, off his cheek, and finally dropped onto the decaying wood of the Stump. The procession was utterly shocked. They had never before seen any emotion from their leader, who was more often than not colder and harder than iron. They were moved by his tear; but they were moved also by the still-fresh fear of the torture he had described. The audience teetered on this uncertain predicament, until the young telekinetic Solomon shouted one word that would change their lives forever.

"ME!"

Brian had expected that some of his followers would accompany him into certain death, but he had no idea the number of people willing to sacrifice their lives would be so high. It wasn't all of them, of course. For some, the memory was still too fresh to even consider going back to that hell. Some others were too young to be of any use. But for the most part, the Band of Merry Mutants shouted and clapped their approval. They would follow him to hell and back.

Now all he had to do was go to hell and bring back the lost souls. It was, literally, a herculean effort. One that was likely to fail. With all that considered, though, there was a chance. To quote an old cliche; where there's a will, there's a way. Brian had the will.

But where was the way?

“Nelly, come and join us for a game sweetheart.” A chipper female voice called to a young girl no more than ten years of age. Nelly turned, running her mismatched eyes over the gathering in front of her. Two of the older ones were watching over all the ‘little ones’ trying to keep them entertained. Since coming to this group three months ago, she had yet to be considered anything but a ‘little one’. Someone who was either too small or too young to be of much use.

It wasn’t meant as an insult but after three months of playing games, going to ‘class’, having a meaningless nap time. It was enough to drive her to annoyance. And so it was with an inner sigh did she moved to the group. If she had to include herself then it was four ‘little ones’ and the two older ones. “Now that we are all together, we can finally play!” The same chipper voice as before announced with a broad smile.

Nelly tilted her head back to look at the girl, inspecting her. She was new to the group but I could see the falseness behind her happiness. Sure she was happy, but she wasn’t really this chipper. Adults or anyone older then the ‘little ones’ talked like this them. A waste of effort, but it seemed to be an established tradition. “Play what?” Nelly asked her voice soft and lacking emotion.

A loud snort in her ear, followed by a sneer got her the answer she sought. “We are playing hide’n’seek stupid. If ya had been payin’ attention ya would know dummy.”

“Now, now Terrace…be nice. She was standing off to the side, you can’t blame her for not hearing.” The male replied with a bored tone. He was new too, sent to this job as punishment. It took only one once over him to calculate everything I needed to know. Egotistical, a strength power user. Most likely a fighter who got too hot headed. Earth based combat if the rockiness of his muscles was any indication. In all 86% probability of survival in combat, 38% survival for life. The girl redid all the calculations in her head, coming up with the same result. After another millisecond of consideration she added on a 18% margin of error to her calculations.

“But she is so weird, she just watches everyone and she never smiles. She has ta be stupid. She can’t even play games right. She ” Terrace whined.

Nelly turned her attention to the ground below them, they were gathered around a small puddle and she could see her reflection in the water. Snow white hair, tied into a ponytail with a red ribbon. Green tunic, with jean shorts underneath. A small backpack on her back, and a scarf for an adult around her neck. She surveyed her reflection, trying to see it as others might see her but to no avail. All she could see was herself. And it wasn’t an impressive to her. In the camp she knew, she was the most intelligent. Perhaps not the wisest, and undoubtedly many knew how to do things she herself didn’t. But in strategy and calculations she had never found an equal. It was what the facility has made her into after all.

She adjusted her scarf so that some of it was pulled over her mouth, hiding it from view. She brought her gaze up and looked from person to person. The other kids agreed with Terrace, and the two older ones were giving her either exasperated looks or unimpressed ones. It was all the looks directed to her that made her decide her plan of action. “Fine. I will be it.” She announced and covered her eyes with pale hands.

Running feet was met immediately by her action and her cat ears twitched and swiveled as they caught the sounds made by the male, and the other kids moving off to hide. She counted slowly backwards from fifty. When she reached zero she uncovered her eyes but kept them closed. The female was still next to her, ever watchful in case anyone might need help. “If I find everyone can I stop playing? And the rules state that I have to find everyone to win?” Nelly asked the female.

“Yes, all you have to do is find everyone. Once you find someone they can give you hints to where everyone else is. But I would rather you kept playing with us….just ignore Terrace he is just being mean.” She said with a hand to Nelly’s shoulder. “But I suppose if you find everyone then you can go…”

The girl nodded once and opened her eyes. She swept her gaze around, her brain already at work. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she looked up at the female. “Terrace is hiding in the hollow the tree, Hope is in the bushes behind us. Stephan is using his powers and never moved from his spot. And the other watcher is on his way to the cooking fire.”

“But…you have to go looking for them sweetie.” The female said with a nervous smile.

“I asked the rules of the game, I have to find them. I found them. I have a 9.4% chance of error. I found them, so I am done playing. If I am wrong on where they are at, then come back and get me. However, I tire of playing games. This isn’t fun. This is simply to keep us ‘little ones’ out of the way. I will stay out of the way of those who are working. But I am not playing your games anymore.” Nelly’s voice cut through any protest the female was about to make. With a shake of her head she put one hand into her pocket and lifted the other up. Taking a few steps around the puddle she tagged Stephan on the shoulder before slipping that hand into her pocket as well. Once her hand had been within a foot of the boy he had appeared, eyes wide and jaw dropped as he stared at Nelly. But she didn’t care as she walked away. The game was over, and she never planned on going back to the ‘little ones’ again.


And so while wandering the camp, Nelly watched the word spread about the gathering at the stump. Her eyebrow arched for a moment before she followed along the closest group to the meeting. She stopped after a few feet and shook her head, now was not the time for her to join. She would only be pushed away, too young and little to be of any help. But she was tired of being looked down upon for those reasons. Yes she was small, yes she was young. But she was brilliant and a strategist. It was time that people learned.

As the gathering at the stump grew she finally moved over, peering around legs and bodies to try and see who was on the stump. In the end, she got assistance from a tall guy who helped boost the girl up into a tree. She sat on the branch listening and watching the crowd and the man who stood on the stump.

She didn’t see people as people, she looked over the crowd and saw statistics, numbers, probability of survival, and usefulness over all to the group. However that all went out the window as she listened to the speaker on the stump. “…And I'm going to win, or I will DIE before anyone else gets shocked, or dissected, or probed! Now who's with me?!"

She didn’t need to look at everyone else now. She had the numbers for each person in her head as she stared at Brian. The statistics of who would make it back alive….were low. Dangerously low. He had to be smarter than this. Survival was everything. Looking after others was fine, so long as you yourself were fine.

Her eyes closed tightly as she started to hear the chorus of voices pledging support. She opened her eyes and looked over the crowd now, looking over the new calculations of survival. Low…low….low….and yet him. Her eyes turned to Brian, his was high. It was above ninety percent now. How could it not be, when the people below him practically worshiped him after that speech? But Nelly was above him right now. She might not be able to help fight, and the man might be a fool. But he was a good leader, he could lead the masses. She could guide him. And so with that thought in mind she scrambled down from the tree.

It was easier this time to move through the crowd and soon she was standing beside the stump, hands clasped behind her as she faced the same direction Brian did. “When they die it will be your fault.” No trace of emotion filled her voice as she spoke. In fact she wasn’t feeling anything right now. Emotions would not help this man. “At best, many of them have 20% chance at coming out of this. That accounts for problems that might crop up. More than that though, have you considered what will happen if they capture one person? Everyone here has now been placed in jeopardy.”


She turned her gaze upwards to Brian, “You can do what I cannot, just as I can do what you cannot. For this though…I can only hope you can stomach the deaths and blood on your hands when this is done.”

Four cans of tomato paste, two large bags of vegetables, large pack of ground beef. Cy happily stirred everything in his large cast-iron pot, one of three currently making soup and or biscuits. He had been cooking for a while already, it took some time to make enough food to feed so many people, but that was fine. He was almost done, only a few more minutes with the last thing of stew. Cooking was one of the few things he actually enjoyed doing at the camp and there weren’t many other things for him to do. It was quiet and out of the way and very few people bothered him about anything, though as of late he had gotten a lot of questions about Brian. He wiped some crumbs and soup off his stainless steel arms and hands with a towel, then noticed some had gotten on his shorts and t shirt when someone had bumped him earlier. He couldn’t do much about it though. People assumed because Cy was second in command that he knew far more than he did. Brian had been distant and agitated toward everyone, including him. Cy continued to watch the stews and stir them every now and then. He too wondered what was wrong, but he didn’t want to ask. If Brian wanted him to know, he would know… right?

He pushed his strawberry blond hair out of the way and looked up when he heard some footsteps coming, one of the young boys that were barely considered old enough to be out of the babysitting group. Cy went back to cooking, the kid was probably just here to try and get food before the others, it was surprising how many people thought it would work when the food wasn’t even done yet. “Hey Cy!” The boy said energetically, though he sounded tired from running. Cy let his side swept bangs fall back and didn’t look up, hoping he would just say what he needed. He didn’t want to be rude, but he didn’t know him very well and didn’t want to chat. The boy apparently caught on after a few awkward moments, “…So Brian is trying to gather everyone at the stump soon, apparently he’s ganna talk to everybody.” Cy stopped stirring, Brian was going to gather everyone? That meant that he was going to say something big, and that he was required to be there. He sighed, the stump meant there would be a crowd and that wasn’t fun. He hated crowds. He gave the boy a nod, and then the boy ran off. Cy looked over his assortment of pots, he hoped this wouldn’t take long or he would have to reheat everything. He took the pots off the coals and set them aside, then headed toward the stump where a crowd had already started to form.

He hung toward the back, already not wanting to be there. Awkwardly shifting the dirt around and over his robotic foot, ignoring the crowd. Some of the dirt got up on the rest of his metal leg, but a little more grime on them wouldn’t hurt. Far too many people in one place and all of them where talking amongst themselves. No one even bothered trying to talk with him, must have figured out that he most likely wouldn’t talk back. He didn’t know if that was depressing or not. He didn’t have too long till Brian stepped up on the stump. Cy listened intently, but could barely believe what Brian was asking of everyone. To go back? That was the fear of everyone here, including him. He never wanted to risk getting recaptured, but he owed Brian so much for getting him out in the first place. How could he consider asking a lot of these people to go back, many of them had no training in combat? The crowd was silent, then they cheered in approval, they were ready to follow him anywhere, including to their death. He looked back over toward his cooking fire, he could just stay here. He could help hold down the fort while everyone else ran back to that hell hole. He ran his hand through his longish hair in annoyance. No, no he really couldn’t. He knew he would probably have to go and help, he was trained in combat unlike most of the people volunteering now. He would leave it up to Brian to decide what he did. He waited for several others to clear away from Brian before he walked up to him. There were still a lot of people around, including a small girl with a big scarf he had seen a few times around camp, but he really needed to talk to Brian. “I-I will come with you… if you need me to.” He said quietly. His silver eyes made eye contact for a brief moment before he lowered them again. He really didn’t want to be in the crowd anymore. “If you go you are dooming those who stay behind by sending all of our leaders to the facility.” It was the girl. Her voice was cold and emotionless, making her seem wise and knowing. Cy just let his hair fall into his face again, he knew it was a bad idea but he wasn’t the one in charge, Brian was. If he was ordered to go he would go, if he was ordered to stay then he would stay, it was simple in his mind. “It- It’s not my decision to make…” He nodded his good byes to them and headed back to the cooking fire.