Via Sanguinis: Harpoon's Tale

by Phil Hartman

1/1/2000: Annandale-on-Hudson, NY:

I swore an oath to follow this tribe's leader.

I think I have more than paid that blood debt.

But, as I have found, it is far too late to break it.

Bort Umpuak, Inuit hunter - albeit one gifted with the ability to change my harpoons into energy.

The first seal I brought down proved I was a mutant.

The elders were unsure what to make of my manifestation. The others of my age were not so polite. So, I made my way south.

I have not seen the north for too long. I may never again.

But there is still the hunt. And the bond. Say what you will about the other Marauders - and there is much, to be sure - but we are a team. Like it or not, we are a team.

It is the solo operations which so often lead us to disaster ...

***

He more sensed the car in the driveway than saw it, and took careful aim.

The car exploded under the slayspear, and Harpoon nodded grimly as the vehicle erupted in flame.

#Phase One is complete,# the Inuit thought. He turned his attention to the figures running out of the house ahead of him, and charged two more slayspears.

John and Elaine Grey screamed quickly, falling to the ground with twitching fingers.

#Phase Two, complete,# Harpoon thought, nodding. He knelt beside Elaine, his face impassive, and said, "Tell your daughter and her mate Sinister has declared war. The children are to be gathered and used - if Summers wants blood, let him come to the standing faces."

He entered their house, slipping upstairs to find two small, terrified faces peering at him from the landing.

#Phase Three, complete,# Harpoon thought, tossing his gas grenade.

***

Someplace else ...

***

She scream-shrieked, the devices about her draining her of mass and mind.

"For a lack of sonic powers, you certainly are loud, child," Sinister frowned as the now-toddler-aged Valeria sobbed.

He removed the girl's bonds and placed her in the energy cage he was keeping the rest of his purloined victims, tossing her a black skinsuit.

"Wear that," Sinister sniffed, checking the scanners. Valeria pulled the garment on, looking up as gentle fingers helped her.

"I'm here, Val," Frank Richards mumbled, hugging his now younger sister. He, like her, wore a black skinsuit, and glared at Sinister with unabashed hatred.

"S-Sparky, how we gonna get 'way ?" Val sniffed, hugging Frank.

"Mom an' Dad'll help us," Frank whispered. "They gotta."

"C'n ... c'n I come with ya ?"

The Richards kids looked up to see another small child watching them from the corner of the cage. His right eye was surrounded by scars, and he brushed brown and white hair out of his face with a metallic left hand.

"Sure," Frank said, waving the boy over. "'M Frank Richards, an' this is my sister Valeria. Don' I know ya ?"

"M' Nate," the boy nodded. "Nate Dayspring."

"No, you're Nathan Christopher Charles Summers," a fourth voice replied, gently. Sinister huffed, shoving a fourth child into the cage, and turned back to his experiments.

Frank squinted, then gasped as his eyes bugged out at the newcomer. "I know you !" he blurted at the red-haired girl.

"You oughta, Scrapper," the girl smirked, hugging Nate. "I used'ta be Rachel Summers."

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