Chapter 30: Get up with me….

Sometimes going for the head takes a few tries. Good thing Bronte didn't go down easy…

"UGSHH!!" Bronte's breath fled from his lungs as he flipped and smashed through the sleeted battlefield of Department H. As he spun, his world blended into shadowy greens, blacks and old flames eating away at metal. Things slowed enough for him to get a sense of the sky and the ground.

With a growl he slammed his claws into the snowed in grass to slow his tumble. He could feel the flesh and muscle on his face knitting itself back together as he got to his feet.

The sound of heavy winds above suddenly caught his attention. In an instant he moved to roll out of the way…. Only he didn't roll.

Sasquatch smashed into the ground at the forest entrance, his massive fists erupted a cloud of mud, snow and water. Bronte dodged effortlessly, blinking a few dozen feet away as a blurring trace of lightning. In doing so he electrified the water clinging to the beasts fur.

Sasquatch let out a pained grunt if anything and chased after him.

"The fuck was that…?" Bronte thought before spinning around to face the giant monster.

"Cheap shots aren't cool." Sasquatch grunted with a massive swing of his ape-like arms.

Brontë dodged with a back handspring, landing in a low crouch before exploding after the creature's legs and opening up the tendon behind his knee.

"ACK!"

"This ain't a boxing match, furball. You're trying to kill me, I'm trying to get even. Tighten up." Bronte replied.

Another massive series of swings came. Bronte bobbed and weaved it all, continuing to go at the furbound titans legs to stop it's bounding movements. He felt faster than usual…

"Stop being…. SO!… SLIPPERY!" Sasquatch yelled in between stomps and swings. It's right leg looked like it had been mangled by a pack of wolves. Crimson blood died the deep brown fur. Bronte should've been in a similar state but he had a healing factor people would kill for.

Even so—

Bronte ducked under another swing and sidestepped a stomp, spinning to slam his electrified claws into Sasquatch's hamstring. Only this time, Sasquatch saw it coming and swung his leg backwards.

"PUGH!!" Bronte took the hit of the beasts heel to his ribs and felt it break in a dozen places.

Once again he was rolling…. Digging his claws into the earth. Recovering. Sifting through the myriads of sounds and smells to decipher the important one's. Gunfire in the distance. Mechanical booms and cracks. Feet splashing through mud. Daken.

He spun around to find Daken bleeding and burned as he tried to face off against Northstar.

"Mismatch." Bronte remembered the term from his days watching bigger and stronger kids playing basketball. A term used to describe seriously unbalanced match ups.

Daken was the precision expert that could cut down monsters with brutal accuracy. And Bronte was the one currently experiencing insane bouts of speed.

He could hear Sasquatch charging after him on his bum legs. Time for a change of plans.

He took off, darting after Daken. Once he reached him he placed his hands on his shoulders.

"The hell are you doing!" Daken snarled.

"Changing your opponent. We can fight about it later." Bronte said before throwing Daken behind him to intercept Sasquatch.

His eyes moved around in the darkness like struck eight balls as he traced the bright blurring movements of Northstar. He was still chasing Daken— not paying attention to Bronte. Maybe he couldn't. Maybe his speed was difficult to manage. Like Cannonball.

Either way.

As Daken headed for Sasquatch, Northstar followed. A beam of blue light in the dark. Bronte moved on him, once again entering a state of humanely untraceable speed. The second he moved, he found that he could see Northstar. Northstar didn't have enough time to react as they crashed into each other.

Never roll with a wild animal.

Bronte snarled and trashed as they hurled through the air and slammed into the ground. He bit and cut and kicked the high speed Mutant. Northstar was no wrestler, but he returned the violence in kind, vibrating his body so violently he almost phased Bronte's claws out of his skin and shattered his teeth.

Despite this, he needed to separate and did so by exploding into a ball of super heated blueish white light.

Bronte slammed into a broken down car with no hood. Military issue. Unmarked. He could smell the dead inside. He couldn't really see though, his eye lids were melted over his eyes.

With a growl he got to his feet, bones cracking and skin shifting into place. He turned his head and spit out a molar into the snow.

"You're fast. But you can't keep up with me."Northstar commented.

"Keep bleeding out and it won't be a challenge." Bronte's vision returned just as Northstar charged. Like a destructive flashlight beam.

Bronte didn't dodge and instead popped his claws, banking on the idea that Northstar's eyes weren't as fast as his legs.

He was right. And the Alphan was impaled.

"Cugh!" Northstar coughed as Bronte's claws went through his stomach and upper chest.

"I don't get paid enough for…. this." He grumbled painfully.

"Really? I guess Romulus doesn't believe in sharing the wealth. That's tough."

Northstar made a confused expression, "What? Why did you say that name?"

Bronte was done talking. He spun Northstar around and ripped his claws out of him before he could begin vibrating. Immediately after he roundhouse kicked the Alphan into the door of the car. He was out before he hit the ground.

It was in these moments that he was reminded of the death they caused. Not only to people trying to kill them, but people caught in the crossfire. They were at war, and casualties was one of the many foul ingredients. One that snuck up on you, one you had trouble finding. Because none of them truly knew who knew what. Who was connected and who was oblivious to Romulus' infinitely long hands hovering over the world. They all had to go, because Romulus had to go.

Bronte raised his claws. Storm clouds churned overhead, ready to strike with him.

His nostrils flared.

Foul scents. New. Fresh. But old. It made it his skin tingle. Wet dog…. Rain… blood …. Rage.

"AAAOOOOUUUUUURRRUN!!!" A monstrous howl boomed from somewhere far ahead. It almost sounded like a name.

"JJJJJAAAAAAACK!!" Another. That was absolutely a name.

It was coming from team Stealth's area.

Bronte's stomach twisted. His eyes moved, locking onto the distant shapes in the dark growing more prominent. Lighting up the skies with fiery blasts and gun shots.

"BRONTOSAUR!"

"Raze?"

Massive shadows stomped after the smaller shapes. He could see Raze now, flying on bat like wings from a hulking body that reminded him of Sasquatch if he was hairless.

"What the hell is that…?" Bronte thought as assumedly the rest of Alpha Flight, Laura, Gabbie and Raze fled towards them.

Two giant fur covered beast-men chased after them. Eyes glowing like blood jewels with fur like the snow. They looked like Sasquatch…. But scarier. And with Deer antlers.

Raze screamed after him, "AYE BRONTE! SMALL INTERRUPTION!!!! WENDIGO'S ARE RE—"

He didn't get to finish his sentence as one of them jumped up and swatted him out of the air.

Bronte's claws sparked.

The curse of the Wendigo was real and it had fallen on Department H at the very worst time…..