In The Hands of a Stranger

Nightmares & Realities: Part 7

Remy woke up a few hours later, more exhausted than he was before. He looked up at the bed to see Rogue was gone. He checked the bathroom, but she wasn't there either. Then there was a banging at the door.

"Open up," he heard a man shouting from outside the door. "I know you're in there, Rogue. I can smell ya."

Remy staggered to the door. He opened it to see an angry looking man wearing an old tattered pair of jeans, a red flannel shirt and heavy gray boots. Almost immediately the man grabbed him and threw him up against the wall.

"Where is she?" he shouted, holding him with one hand and unsheathing three metal claws with the other.

Remy was terrified, but he didn't show it. There was a playing card in his hand just waiting to be charged, though the burly hot-tempered man didn't know it. "Never know if ya kill me." With that the man let him loose. "Ya must to be Logan. Rogue talk about you. So, tell Remy, how ya find us so fast?"

"I got my ways. Now, one last time. Where is she?" he demanded, unsheathing his other set of claws.

"Don' know, Mon ami," he said. "Remy wake up, and she gone. Dat mean she mus' be da ot'er one."

"What other one?" Logan shouted, attempting to attack Remy again, but he quickly charged the playing card and threw it at him. A small explosion took place in the motel room. The blast grazed Logan arm, but the wound quickly healed.

"Ya done," Remy said, "or would ya like a ot'er?" Logan came at him again, and Remy quickly charged another card and hit Logan in the chest. Logan cried out, but again quickly recovered. He prepared to come at him again, but Remy was growing tired of this game. "We could be going dis all day, Logan, but it won' help us find Rogue."

Logan unsheathed his craws and grabbed hold of Remy. "Where would she go?"

Remy shoved Logan off of him. "Like I said, don' know. She gotta be dat ot'er girl. If dat true, she be in Middletown somewhere. Dat what de news say her parents are from."

"Well, let's go, Gumbo," Logan said, grabbing Remy by the collar and heading out the door.

"De name's Remy," he said, shaking Logan off of him. He then led the way to the car.

"Yeah, whatever."

*************************************

"Rogue" approached an old Victorian style home. It was her home. She knew it, but a voice inside her mind told her that it wasn't. Her head was spinning, but still she approached. She made it to the porch, but she had no key to get in. She remembered something, her mother's old flowerpot. She had always left the spare key deep down inside it. She looked to check, and there it still was, like it had always been. She picked up the key and unlocked the door. She entered the house, and realized how familiar everything was. That proved it. She had to be Carol.

She found the staircase and walked up the steps to her room, Carol's room. She walked in. She saw her white-canopied bed. She remembered the day she went shopping with her mother and picked it out. She saw her ivory dresser with her jewelry box sitting atop it, and the oval shaped mirror that hung above. She saw the pictures of her family and friends in picture frames cluttering her dresser and hanging up on her walls.

She looked to her bookshelves, remembering where she had purchased each and every book. That had to prove it, who else would have those memories but her. She was Carol, that's what she kept telling herself. She sat on her bed, still looking at herself in the oval mirror. She may have had a different face, but she was still Carol. She had to be.

She laid on her bed, exhaustion overtaking her, she quickly fell asleep.

*************************************

Remy drove, but at a leisurely pace. "So, you're Logan," he said. "Never picture someone like you t' be a friend a Rogue's, but I guess it make sense after what she told me 'bout ya."

"And what was that, Gumbo?"

"Not much, jus' dat ya taught 'er how t' fight. Can dat girl fight."

"How would you know?" Logan said, there was a hint of a threat in his voice. Remy just smiled at him, refusing to answer. Logan could guess what he was thinking. This joker had a dirty mind. He could tell, but if he had done anything to Rogue he couldn't tell. He didn't think so. "So, how do you know Rogue?"

"Met 'er in 'Nawlins. Prettiest fille Remy ever meet. Jus' sorry dis whole t'ing happen. If she not be wit Remy, Belle never woulda got to 'er."

"Ya sayin 'this is your fault?"

"Non, it Belle's fault. She wait till Remy leave, den she ambush Rogue, use dat girl Carol t'do it. Rogue been havin' bad dreams for days 'bout her powers comin' back. Never t'ink dey would."

"Oh god,"Logan said, looking out the window. He wasn't really paying attention to where he was. His thoughts pushed towards Rogue, the girl he vowed to always protect. He realized he sucked at that job. He always seemed to be letting her down. Even now, instead of helping Rogue he was stuck with this Cajun, who may have been responsible for Rogue's current state. "So this girl Carol. Where does she live? If Rogue thinks she's her than she may be goin' home."

"Carol's home? Don't know, Mon ami, but Remy know her last name's Danvers. Hopefully she be listed in da phone book." Remy turned the corner to a small diner.

"Why are we stoppin', Gumbo?"

"Simple, hungry, and for de last time da name's Remy."

Remy came through doors and walked up to the front counter and placed his order. When Logan walked in he noticed a kid staring at him. The boy's mother shook her head disapprovingly when Logan whipped out a cigar and lit the end and began to smoke it. He realized he was standing out like a sore thumb, but he did see the phone booth in the corner near the bathrooms.

He walked over and saw an old phone book and fumbled through the pages until he found the D's. Oh, there it was, and the strange thing was is there one only one listing for Danvers. 601 Chestapeak Lane. There was a phone number. Logan quickly dialed it.