Wolverine stashed his yellow and black uniform in the jet, donning instead his denim jeans, checkered shirt and trademark Canadian jacket. Having done that, he cloaked the jet and left the clearing of trees where he had landed, and trekked out to the road.
He was out in the suburbs of Washington. The city itself was several miles off. He would hike, but he did not really have the time to spare. A cab it would be, then.
He hailed one further down.
He got in and gave the cabby a few curt directions, before " shuttin' his crap." His cabby though, was a lot more talkative.
" Hey man, you goin' to Washington, huh? Well I'm tellin' you, there ain't no city like Washington, brother. Sure, you got New York and Miami and all, but they ain't nothin' like Washington. And I'm a Washington man - I know."
Shut yer crap, kiddo. I ain't in a good mood today. Wolverine - Logan now, once out of uniform - tried to ignore the guy, but he refused to stop.
" ... stuff is always happenin' around these parts. Why, jus' the other day that guy got snitched from that there hall downtown... guy givin' a talk on them muties. And then jus' yesterday, somethin' really weird happen down at the ' Mutant Alley', man. Them muties, they all totally gone, man..."
Wait a second here. ' Mutant Alley'? I ain't heard no nothing about no ' Mutant Alley'.
" ... I seen for myself, brother. They be lookin' like zombies there. Ain't got nothin' left in them... you know what I'm saying."
" Sorry kid, I don't," Logan's deadly, rough voice came across slowly.
" Well, man, you sure don't keep up with the times, huh? It happened a little something like this..."
The driver's sing-song voice continued its story, and Logan repressed a growl of irritation. He only wished that he had not parked this far from ' home'...