West Coast Shuffle (Part Six)

The van we drove from San Francisco to the border was stolen, plus none of us had passports. There was no way we were going to make it across the border. Even if we had a car that was ours, and proper documentation, there was still Saberwolf chilling in the back.

It was startling how easily I went along with sneaking across the border. Laura seemed very certain that this was something we could both do, and that confidence rubbed off on me. What did that say about me, that I was alright with car theft, illegal border crossing, and manslaughter? Because I was sure we'd killed a few of those people after us back in San Francisco. Wolf definitely had.

Perhaps it was another one of those things that I could compartmentalize while it was happening, but later when I stopped and looked back on it reality would set in. Either way, I laser-cut our way through the fence under the cover of darkness and we went along our way.

So there we were. A boy, a girl, and a robowolf, spontaneously walking the streets of Tijuana at night in the swing of summer. What was my life?

"If my parents bring this up later, we stopped at San Diego," I said as the three of us trudged onwards, "We did not go to Tijuana on a whim," It was hard to reconcile that we had even done that, despite the fact that we were there.

"Why?" Laura asked me in confusion

I scoffed, "They're going to kill me for this in the first place. At least let me have a fighting chance to get some forgiveness later," Under the street lights, I noticed that there was a difference to Wolf's gait than normal and stopped to check him over, "What's wrong, buddy?"

"I am feeling the effects of enemy gunfire from the last battle," Wolf told me, "I am not bulletproof, unfortunately."

Clearly. Saberwolf was not completely covered in metal, contrary to me calling him a metal wolf. If you looked closely, his metal was plating, and it could be fractured and broken. There was artificial muscle and tissue underneath that you could see as he moved. He was not a walking tank. He was not invulnerable.

I could see a few wounds on his legs. I had never stopped to wonder before if Wolf felt pain, "Is there anything we can do to help?"

"Laura has already asked this. For the time being, no," Wolf said, "I would require the proper cybernetic technician, the same way that you would require the proper doctor to tend to your injuries."

I had been hurt and on the mend. Wolf had been hurt and would have to deal with it until we found a way to fix him, "So now what? Do we rest, or what?" I asked.

Laura looked to the two of us and shook her head, "No. You and Saberwolf rested enough in the drive to the border. We need to work quickly. I do not like our odds if we stop moving for very long. Kimura will find us."

I noticed that she hadn't included herself in her chain of reasoning, "Well, yeah, the two of us got rest. But I meant more for you. You didn't rest any," She had fought, found a way to withdraw, and drove all the way down south with the fear that an enemy was on our tail.

"I will be fine. I am not close to being tired yet," Laura assured me with a tiny smile, "My stamina is not as formidable as yours, but then again, I am also not a living solar battery."

"D-Did you just make a joke?"

"Did I? That was my simplification of your base ability."

Well, even if it wasn't a joke, I would classify it as one regardless. Baby steps, people. This girl would be properly socialized one way or another. How I took this as my responsibility when no one asked me to was beyond my ability to understand.

For some reason, she seemed more comfortable in the mix of things like this than sitting at a table with friends, sharing a meal. No, not for some reason. It was obvious exactly why, and it was sad how much sense it made.

But all of that could be saved for later. It wasn't the time to look at the person underneath the flesh and bone. Not when we were a pair of gringos and a walking weapon roaming the streets in the part of Tijuana that tourists dared not tread.

Of course, Laura had no trepidation to going inside of places and asking questions. What did she have to fear? Anyone with bad intentions, she would know what was coming and was capable of tearing them apart, without me or Wolf stepping in.

"You can speak Spanish?" I asked as she walked out of a seedy-looking corner store, "Of course you can speak Spanish."

"You cannot?" She asked me with a raised eyebrow.

I waved my hand in a wishy-washy fashion, "I have a high school fluency. That's just enough to keep me from getting arrested," That, or just enough to get me arrested, depending on what I said, "What'd you get?"

She pointed to a rather large hill that was easily visible from the low-lying buildings surrounding us, "Cerro Colorado," She told me, "That is where The Facility is emanating from in this area. I just needed to know where it was."

She had told me that she just wanted the lay of the land. To know where the enemy was coming from. Even so, I expected... something, "So this is all we came for? I'm going to get my ass chewed out for this?"

Laura did not respond to my query of a call to action, "We cannot attack them on our own. They came for me, so they will have measures prepared," She explained, "They will not capture you. You have nothing that they want. They will simply kill you."

Which would have been bad, for me and for her, "The three of us can't do it by ourselves," I concluded for her, "Well, the Paladins are spread all over the world, and who knows where Logan is?" I looked over at Laura to make a pitch, "We could call the X-Men."

Wolf spoke up, "I have already tried, when you were unconscious," From his reaction, for one reason or another it was a no-go, "We are alone."

Alone and out in the cold with a shady organization breathing down our necks. No one we could rely on to be able to handle it was around, so it was time to get creative with our responses.

If we couldn't rely on the clearly able, perhaps we could enlist the help of the likely willing. After a minute or two to have a think about our options, a possibility struck me, "Maybe we are alone. Then again... we aren't the only students on the west coast."

"What do you mean?"

I tapped my head and pointed toward the north, "First, we need to get back across the border. Second, we need to go to L.A."