Title: The List

Author: Animiga
Rating: PG-13, just to be safe.
Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Mutant X. At All. I'm just playing with the characters. All rights belong to whoever did create them.
Spoilers: Just about everything. It also makes reference to my story "The Resurrection." You might want to read that first, otherwise the story might seem a little out of left field.
Archive: Sure, but please ask me first
AN: Reviews make me happy!

Summary: A sequel, of sorts, to "The Resurrection." Mutants are being targeted. There's no pattern, and Mutant X must stop the violence before it hits too close to home. Includes OCs.

Prologue

"Jesse? What's wrong?"

"Harrison's here."

"Damn. Look, it'll be all right. Remember last time? You said he just had you run on a treadmill while he took readings. It's probably more of the same thing."

Peter could hear the tense mental sigh that Jesse gave. "You're right. It'll be fine. We'll get through this. What time is it? When is Jacobs coming back?"

"Well, the clock on the wall says 4:30, so he'll be back in half an hour. We've finished the last cycle, so I don't know what's happening today. God, I hope he doesn't make me –"

"Hey!" Jesse's voice interrupted his thought. "Hey, like you said, we'll both be fine. Look, when these mad scientists get finished with us, we'll play a game of chess, ok?"

Peter smiled. "Deal," he said to his friend across the mental link they shared. "That always helps." Peter tried to keep his mental voice upbeat. The games of chess that they played in their minds never failed to help them recover from what ever had been done to them.

"Oy. He called me Mr. Kilmartin again. I hate it when he does that. Why do they all do that? It's like they think being polite makes what they do okay."

Peter chuckled, his facial features betraying nothing of his mental conversation with Jesse. They were both careful to keep their link secret; their lives depended on it. He wished Jesse good luck, and closed the link as far as he dared. Both of them always kept the link open, at least a small bit. Jesse was his only friend here at Genomex; they helped each other through the experiments and trials, made everything bearable. Jesse was the one person he trusted right now...and he had never seen his face. A wave of sadness washed over him. Based on observations they shared, they knew they were in the same pod room together, but on opposite sides. Peter wasn't sure how the link between them had been established. Although he was a psionic, Jesse wasn't. Best has he could figure, it was because Jesse was the one other person he had touched, when he had been thrown into that dark room when he first arrived six months ago. It had been six months, right? Since that day, there had been a strong link between them. They kept each other sane in this horrible place.

It was exactly 27 minutes later when Peter heard the scream. His eyes darted around the room, searching for the source, but he found nothing. The three lab assistants that he could see remained at their stations, calmly analyzing data, or whatever it was that they did. He felt his stomach twist as his mind wrapped around the source of the anguished scream. "Jesse? What's wrong? What's happening?!"

"Peter..." The voice was soft. But it wasn't his voice that was weak; they didn't use their voices to talk to each other. It was his mind, the link between them. It was fading.

"I'm here. What's going on?!"

"Sorry, looks like no chess match..." The link faded, and then it was gone.

"JESSE!" Peter beat his fists against the pod's plexiglass face shield. "Where are you?!" Peter searched his mind, searching for the link to Jesse, the link that had kept him safe and sane, the link to his friend. "JESSE!"

"Well, well. Feisty today. Good. I've got a new little project. This will be the last one, too, so let's get started."

The voice drew Peter's attention. The voice belonged to Dr. Jacobs. The door to the pod slid open and Jacobs' gloved hands drew Peter's weak body from the plastic prison. Peter ignored the pushes and shoves his body received from Jacobs' gloved assistants. His mind was back on trying to regain the link with Jesse. This had never happened before. The link was always there; even during the more torturous of sessions, even when they had been knocked unconscious by them, even in sleep, the link was still there. Now, its comforting presence was gone. For the first time, Peter realized what it meant.

Oh, God. He was gone. There was nothing left. He felt a surge of anger run through his body. A screen of white flashed across his mind. He screamed, trying to counteract the pain. It coursed through his body. He could sense nothing. Only the pain. There was no way to tell how long it lasted, but it was incredible. When it was finally over, he felt his body sag. His body sobbed, screaming for breath. When it eased, he opened his eyes.

He was on his knees. All around him was a bloody mess. The instrument tray lay scattered across the floor. One assistant had a pen through her neck. Another had been strangled by stethoscope; the body's eyes bulged obscenely. Peter struggled to his feet and backtracked. Oh, God. What had he done?

A few more steps back and Peter managed to turn around. Then he ran. He ran from the blood, from the death, from the pain, from everything. He ran. He ran for his life, not sure of where he was going, and not caring. He ran.