James Logan Howlett

     The pirate kept on walking on his way to the ship, leaving the scent of garlic sausages, spiced and savory inside the tavern amongst his men, but yet the smell that filled his nostrils and followed him was so tempting it made his empty stomach growl, how dumb of him to not touch the juicy food just because he was concerned about the bloody treasure they had recently pillaged. Away in the distance, he heard their voices raise in some bawdy song.

     Lovely ladies lurked from the alleys and its corners, teared clothes showing a bit of skin or no cloths at all covering what is sin. Hook grumbled to them waving the bottle in the air but they gave him no more attention than the one the night was giving. The giggles reached his ears once he passed past hers, a drunken man followed them around letting them take their cloak and run away all jubilantly.

     He snored, not content with all the happiness and proceeded with his path.

     The bottle fell from beneath his fingers when a shadow rose from the deck of his ship. “Who the bloody hell are you?” He shouted to the man standing still.

"It’s nice to have you back, Logan. The lads been missing you here. Are you planning on staying?" Robbie asked me as he gets another bottle of whiskey.

"I’m staying in a motel. I have to leave tomorrow back to New York." the bar’s full as always. It’s been a while since I’ve been to The Loop. Robbie has helped the X-Men quite a few times. Especially when there’s a problem here in Chicago. I think his bar is the only one I’ve been which I haven’t wreck yet. Hope it stays that way.

I look at the tv and the fucking Cubs are still loosing. I’ve never liked watching sports anyway. Josh starts waving at me from the cards table “Logan, feeling for a game of jacks?” he says.

I smile at him. We always have fun when I’m here. I get up and start walking towards him “Well, Black Jack’s not really my thing but…” Oops! Almost forgot my whiskey!

"Have you ever played 21 before, honey?" I ask her as everyone places their bets with Robbie’s fake casino chips. I bet five bucks just to warm things up.

"Well, I'm bust." I say stretching my arms. Everyone seems to be having a good time. Not just in general but here at the table mostly. The guys are playing for money but as always they're doing it just for the fun. Yet I can't  help to feel some tension coming from that girl. Who is her? "How are you folks handling?" I say as I turn to the guys.

"Goddammit, I'm bust too." Said Dave with his neat southern accent "I rather invest my money in some alcohol."

"It’s nice to have you back, Logan. The lads been missing you here. Are you planning on staying?" Robbie asked me as he gets another bottle of whiskey.

"I’m staying in a motel. I have to leave tomorrow back to New York." the bar’s full as always. It’s been a while since I’ve been to The Loop. Robbie has helped the X-Men quite a few times. Especially when there’s a problem here in Chicago. I think his bar is the only one I’ve been which I haven’t wreck yet. Hope it stays that way.

I look at the tv and the fucking Cubs are still loosing. I’ve never liked watching sports anyway. Josh starts waving at me from the cards table “Logan, feeling for a game of jacks?” he says.

I smile at him. We always have fun when I’m here. I get up and start walking towards him “Well, Black Jack’s not really my thing but…” Oops! Almost forgot my whiskey!

"Have you ever played 21 before, honey?" I ask her as everyone places their bets with Robbie's fake casino chips. I bet five bucks just to warm things up.

She grimaced at the mention of Robin. “No…we lived in the woods, actually, but I haven’t seen him in quite awhile; maybe six months or so.” It was still painful to think about him, but she tried not to show it. It didn’t do any good to cry over him. 

"Boy... I haven't laught like that in a long time." I look her in the eyes with a warm smile "Thanks honey. I spent too much time alone in this forest. Hope I didn't offend you."

"It's nice to have you back, Logan. The lads been missing you here. Are you planning on staying?" Robbie asked me as he gets another bottle of whiskey.

"I'm staying in a motel. I have to leave tomorrow back to New York." the bar's full as always. It's been a while since I've been to The Loop. Robbie has helped the X-Men quite a few times. Especially when there's a problem here in Chicago. I think his bar is the only one I've been which I haven't wreck yet. Hope it stays that way.

I look at the tv and the fucking Cubs are still loosing. I've never liked watching sports anyway. Josh starts waving at me from the cards table "Logan, feeling for a game of jacks?" he says.

I smile at him. We always have fun when I'm here. I get up and start walking towards him "Well, Black Jack's not really my thing but..." Oops! Almost forgot my whiskey!

Damn that Nitro. Gave me a hell of work with that Civil War stuff. Glad that’s over, though. The son of bitch really made me sweat.

As usual, I took off without considering what my friends and teammates said. I need a break. So I decided it would be a good idea to head south. Sometimes I wonder — why? I guess I’m really asking for it. It doesn’t matter where do I go, I always seem to be looking for trouble.

After getting lost in the middle of the dirt and heat, I came across with a railroad and decided to follow it. At the end of the railroad there’s always a town. Me and my horse have been following it for hours leaving a cloud of dust behind us.

But we could been taking longer if he wasn’t “the fastest horse the south has ever seen” — has the natives said. They were the first people I had contact with when got to the south. A pretty big tribe called “The Moon Warriors”. I spent quite a long time with them to the point I was later considered part of the tribe. “Keukuatsheu” they called me. It means The Wolverine. I develop very close bondings with all of them, including a horse. They said he chose me and gave it to me as a symbol of our friendship when I left the tribe to continue my journey. They called him “Devil Bear’s Mount” in my honor and I promised I would never forget them and that I would come back one day.

Then I see a black dot on the horizon, which then becomes a thin brown line, which then becomes a small town. When I finally get there I notice the sign “Hell on Wheels, Population — One less everyday.” How welcoming. I step in without thinking twice. It doesn’t take long for people to notice me. I was careful enough to take the painting from my face and changed my clothes but my horse really stands out from the others. A brown stallion with odd paintings on his face and body and feathers on his hair. He was a true indian horse. Also, he didn’t have a sattle like the other horses. The indians don’t need sattles to ride their horses and if we want them to stay, they stay. We don’t need to tie them up somewhere.

I need to find a place where I can get a drink so tell my horse to stay next to the other horses and so he does. I hear drunk people and follow their voices. Where there’s drunk people there’s drinks. I step in what it might be a saloon. Some nosy people stare at me instead of minding their own business but the majority of them don’t pay me much attention.

I walk to the bartender and ask for a whisky. He hands it to me without lifting any suspicions and then he asks me “You’re not from here, are you? I’ve never seen you before.” I turn my attention to a group of gentlemen gambling trying to figure out what their playing and answer the bartender “I’m just passing by.” I think it’s Black Jack.

"Don’t go in there, Bohannon-" Yeah, right.

Now, staring down at the strange man, eyes flickering between the unconscious railman and the other, Cullen chewed the inside of his cheek. Sure as hell wasn’t from around here, especially if he was starting a fight in the middle of Hell on Wheels. Mickey would be pissed if they made a mess, but currently, the foreman just wanted to get a drink of his own instead.

"Son, you’re gonna have to come with me."

Elam started to raise his weapon, but Cullen put out a hand to stop him. They didn’t need any more people injured; this railroad wouldn’t build itself and they were sorely lacking able-bodied men after the cholera hit.

The freedman, however, had still not learned to shut his mouth when it counted. “Come on all quiet like and you ain’t gonna get shot!”

"These racists bastards mistook me for an indian." I say as I walk towards the fellow talking to me.

"Stand back!" Of course, the ugly one had to get in the way and point his gun at me "Ain’t talking to you." I say.

"You sure as hell ain’t no Indian," the foreman remarked. "And these folk ain’t used to strangers." Whatever had truly happened, the fight was likely a product of drunks poking at a man with no patience for their slurred words and insults. He himself had started a fight or two, but demonic accusations were Ruth’s business, not his.

Elam was fuming, however, and Cullen turned his hard gaze on him.

"Go get the handcuffs or somethin’; stay outa trouble," Bohannon hissed, not willing to pry the freedman off their culprit when blows were exchanged.

"Hell yeah, you under arrest!" Elam growled, storming off to find the jail car’s keys and what restraints could be found. Rolling his eyes, Cullen marched up to the bar, pouring himself a drink.

Whiskey, huh? I like this guy. So far, he seems to be the only decent fellow around here "Well, thank you for having me." I say in irony "Do you treat all outsiders like this?"

Damn that Nitro. Gave me a hell of work with that Civil War stuff. Glad that’s over, though. The son of bitch really made me sweat.

As usual, I took off without considering what my friends and teammates said. I need a break. So I decided it would be a good idea to head south. Sometimes I wonder — why? I guess I’m really asking for it. It doesn’t matter where do I go, I always seem to be looking for trouble.

After getting lost in the middle of the dirt and heat, I came across with a railroad and decided to follow it. At the end of the railroad there’s always a town. Me and my horse have been following it for hours leaving a cloud of dust behind us.

But we could been taking longer if he wasn’t “the fastest horse the south has ever seen” — has the natives said. They were the first people I had contact with when got to the south. A pretty big tribe called “The Moon Warriors”. I spent quite a long time with them to the point I was later considered part of the tribe. “Keukuatsheu” they called me. It means The Wolverine. I develop very close bondings with all of them, including a horse. They said he chose me and gave it to me as a symbol of our friendship when I left the tribe to continue my journey. They called him “Devil Bear’s Mount” in my honor and I promised I would never forget them and that I would come back one day.

Then I see a black dot on the horizon, which then becomes a thin brown line, which then becomes a small town. When I finally get there I notice the sign “Hell on Wheels, Population — One less everyday.” How welcoming. I step in without thinking twice. It doesn’t take long for people to notice me. I was careful enough to take the painting from my face and changed my clothes but my horse really stands out from the others. A brown stallion with odd paintings on his face and body and feathers on his hair. He was a true indian horse. Also, he didn’t have a sattle like the other horses. The indians don’t need sattles to ride their horses and if we want them to stay, they stay. We don’t need to tie them up somewhere.

I need to find a place where I can get a drink so tell my horse to stay next to the other horses and so he does. I hear drunk people and follow their voices. Where there’s drunk people there’s drinks. I step in what it might be a saloon. Some nosy people stare at me instead of minding their own business but the majority of them don’t pay me much attention.

I walk to the bartender and ask for a whisky. He hands it to me without lifting any suspicions and then he asks me “You’re not from here, are you? I’ve never seen you before.” I turn my attention to a group of gentlemen gambling trying to figure out what their playing and answer the bartender “I’m just passing by.” I think it’s Black Jack.

"Don’t go in there, Bohannon-" Yeah, right.

Now, staring down at the strange man, eyes flickering between the unconscious railman and the other, Cullen chewed the inside of his cheek. Sure as hell wasn’t from around here, especially if he was starting a fight in the middle of Hell on Wheels. Mickey would be pissed if they made a mess, but currently, the foreman just wanted to get a drink of his own instead.

"Son, you’re gonna have to come with me."

Elam started to raise his weapon, but Cullen put out a hand to stop him. They didn’t need any more people injured; this railroad wouldn’t build itself and they were sorely lacking able-bodied men after the cholera hit.

The freedman, however, had still not learned to shut his mouth when it counted. “Come on all quiet like and you ain’t gonna get shot!”

"These racists bastards mistook me for an indian." I say as I walk towards the fellow talking to me.

"Stand back!" Of course, the ugly one had to get in the way and point his gun at me "Ain't talking to you." I say.

She has a point. But I don’t even know where I am “Well, I don’t know how I got here in the first place. Just get me out of this damn place and I’ll take a cab. Do you know how far from New York are we?”

"New York? I don’t even know where that is. That’s no where near here, and not for at least fifty miles around. I know this area very well.", Snow said proudly. She hoped the man wasn’t crazy. She didn’t have anything against crazy people, but he seemed very strong and she didn’t feel like shooting anyone today. 

She has a point. But I don't even know where I am "Well, I don't know how I got here in the first place. Just get me out of this damn place and I'll take a cab. Do you know how far from New York are we?"