(continued from Having the time of my life(solo))

Streak flew, for the last time in a while, north through Oregon and Washington. He had made it into Canada without any serious run ins with people. Sure there were a few that wanted to kill him, like the Navy Seal in Minnesota or the biker gang in Montana. But that was just a few people, that didn't include the rest of the nation. He'd also run into a very nice family in Nebraska that offered to let him stay there as long as he liked. It all seemed balanced. The thought of the David's welcoming family put a smile on his face as he passed over the border and into British Columbia. It was a drastic change between the United States and Canada.

Not to say that it was like going into a third world country but it looked more like the final frontier. There was just nothing there but trees as far as the eye could see. Streak banked a hard right and headed into the sun. Things were going well and he was following the jet stream. He didn't realize how high up in the air he was until he saw that he was in line with what looked like was a Boeing 747. The plane happened to be flying in the same direction and so Streak decided to have some fun. He caught up with the jet easily. There was no competition. Streak could have easily gone faster than the plane was going.

He flew to one side of the plane where most of the windows were open. That would catch most people's attention. There were some kids sitting with their faces pressed against the windows. There started to be a commotion as the kids pointed Streak out to their parents. "Mommy look it! Look there a man outside the plane." The kids said to their parents. Streak could read some of their mouths because they didn't bother to turn away from the window afraid they might loose sight of the silver man. "Now honey ho w many times do I have to tell you. People can't fly. It's just not possible." Some of the mother said to their kids before they looked out the window and saw him. Streak waved at the kids. This was more interesting than he thought it would be. By this time their parents had seen him and more and more people were staring out the window's at him.

He thought it might be fun to put on a show. Streak zoomed ahead of the plane. The silver man started, literally, flying circles around the plane. People in all sections of the plane were now looking out their windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of the silver man who can fly. The kids were having fun and so was Streak. He would see them run from side to side on the plane trying to keep him in view. It didn't work to well. Streak flew through the lane this time. The kids started jumping up and down trying to reach Streak. The ceiling of the plane was closer to the ground than Streak expected it would be. One parent got smart and grabbed Streak's legs. He went down and hit the ground. The flight attendants and others rushed Streak and pinned him down. He hadn't expected this. There was nothing he could do. One flight attendant said, "We ask all parents to get their children in their seats so we can deal with this problem." The voice was calm and practiced. Many of the parents held him down. Once the kids settled down and were back in their seats Streak said to one of the attendants, "Let me go. You have no reason to hold me here. I did nothing wrong." His voice was not panicked or scared but it was annoyed.

(This takes place during the end of winter into spring (Feb-Mar.))

Streak struggled against the tight grips of the passengers. The voice sounded familiar, like from a dream. Streak couldn't place it. "'Didn't do anything wrong?'" Came the cold harsh voice of one of the flight attendants. He stopped struggling and listened to the person speaking. "How about, flying next to our plane and causing a disturbance. Being alive after some many tries to kill you." The voice was so familiar. Then the face came into view. It was him. The man that haunted his dreams ever so long after the camps had finished and everything had been put aside. Streak's face went from shock to fear. "I see you've healed well. And you still remember me. That's good. You have a good memory. The man touched Streaks face his it made his skin want to crawl. He didn't look the same. No. He looked older, and yet somehow more worn on than Streak remembered.

He pulled his face out of the mans grip and changed his face from a look of horror to a look of fear. Smugness crawled across his face and Streak hated him for it. "I was hoping I would run into you again." Streak lied to the man. He had no intention of ever meeting the man. "You have no power over me now. There's nothing to stop me from killing you. The way I should have done ten years ago." "And why didn't you kill me then Streak. Oh yes I remember that your name well." "Well it wasn't for lack of trying. That's for sure. You ran and hid. As soon as you found out that the bracelets weren't working on us you ran for your life. You ran like a scared little baby afraid his parents would hit him if they found out what you did. And you should have stayed hidden."

"Cause now there's nothing to stop me from killing you. And ya know what. I hadn't thought of how I would until right now." The silver man was surprised the man allowed Streak to continue on for so long. Streak started musing aloud, knowing very well that every one was listening. "I could do it quickly. A knife to his head would put a damper on his day. he continued talking like he wasn't there, "But then where's the fun in that? No. He doesn't deserve to die quickly. It should be slow and painful.It should remind him every single time I touch him of what it is like to be another inch closer to death but not able to go there." While Streak continued his musing, he noticed the passengers were loosening their grip on him. Is it because their scared? Like they rightly should be. Some of the passengers holding him were shaking a little. This time it was Streak that was smiling.

Streak had become distracted and lost in his ramblings of how he was going to kill the man. He didn't notice the man pull a collapsible metal baton out and hide it behind his back. He slowly and quietly extended it so that Streak couldn't see it. Streak had stopped musing aloud and was now thinking in his head. He had come up with a plan. Since the passengers grips were loosening on Streak he took the opportunity he was presented with. He charged the man. The ex-guard had been expecting this sort of attack. At the last second he pulled his baton out from behind him and swung at Streak's ribs.

Streak saw what was going to happen to late. He could only move into the attack. The baton hit him squarely in the ribs. "Ohff." Streak said. He went down to the ground. He was not going to give the man the satisfaction of beating him or getting another shot on him. "Man that felt good. Just like old times huh Streak? I rally missed you these past years. Life had become so boring since you escaped and I wasn't allowed back into my old job so I had to find a new one. This." He waved an arm around simply indicating the plane. A few of the passengers gasped as Streak hit the floor of the plane. Some rushed to help him. "Get off me." He said to them rudely pushing a few away. The rest got the hint and backed off. He didn't care how they felt about him he just wanted to finish this fight and this time he was going to win.

He stood back up showing no pain, since his ribs had already healed from the attack. Out of Streak's hand there came a baton just like the one the ex-guard was holding. "The playing field is level now. I can fight back and you can't do anything to stop me." They rushed each other at the same time. They raised their baton's up at the same time and brought them down together at the same time. It was like they had practiced this fight before and were now performing it before a live audience. They matched each other strike for block and kick for kick. Neither seemed to be winning; but the life of a traveling flight attendant was wearing down the ex-guard, and Streak was in peak condition.

Finally Streak hit with his baton on the mans ribs. "Ahh. The man cried out in pain. It gave Streak satisfaction to know that he was finally going to win. He assumed from the blow that he'd broken a rib and that was fine by Streak. The silver man waited for him to get up. He did so slowly, and when he was up the silver man attacked again with more strength and speed than before. The man took another hit to his ribs and one to his arm. His baton went flying and he went to the ground.Streak was curious so he asked him, "Do you always carry a baton when you are on an air plane?" He knew that Neena and the other xmen probably would approve of what he was doing but he didn't are. And they wouldn't find out he decided. He turned the baton into a sharp sword.

The man looked at Streak in fear. He was blind with rage, hatred, revenge and anger. Streak swung the sword down and slashed the mans uniform nicking him in the chest. He then made many quick light cuts to the mans arms, face, legs, chest and many other parts of his body. All in all the man was bleeding a lot from any little wounds.

All the ex-guard could do was lie there and be cut up. If he moved he could be beheaded, unintentionally of course since Streak didn't intend on killing him right away. Streak moved on from slashing at the guards body to slashing his face. This was the delicate part. One wrong move by Streak or one move by the guard, not anticipated by Streak and he could loose something very important. By now the guard was getting cuts on his nose, ears, forehead, chin, neck, cheeks and any other part of his body Streak could get at. Streak paused for a moment to catch his breath. The man was bleeding profusely by now and every one in the plane had become as still and silent as statues. They all stared in horror as Streak sliced and diced the attendant.

By now the pilots knew everything that was happening in the cabin of the plane and they were slowly descending for an emergency landing with paramedics, police, swat, and many other law enforcement agencies standing by to capture Streak. Streak had no intention of going to jail, especially since the scum bag lying, bleeding on the floor had done no time for his crimes in the camps. "Not so confident now are you?" Streak mocked the man. Streak knelt down next to the mans head and said in his ear, "Now, you know what it's like to be so close to death. But you're not able to reach it yet. Can you? Can you reach death yet? No but you will soon, and that will give me all the satisfaction I need for the rest of my life. I will finally be able to move on and wont have to worry about you getting away with your crimes against mutants any longer. Good bye. You will die with the note that I am and always will be better than you.

With that Streak stood up. He was finally going to deal the final blow when he heard a baby crying. He looked around and saw the terror on the peoples faces. He knew then that he couldn't do it, not in front of all the innocent children and others that were on the plane. With that he retracted the sword into his body and left the plane. He flew high above it back into the jet stream and on to the other side of the country. He saw the plane landing and paramedics, and police rushing on board to search for him. They would never find him, and they would soon be told the whole story from start to finish by the passengers. The man died from loss of blood on his way to the hospital. There was nothing the paramedic's could have done to help him. There were to many cuts for them to stop them all.

Streak flew along towards the eastern coast line. He was hundreds of thousands of feet in the air. Almost in space. He was on the outer most edge of the earth and could see it's curvature, the clouds, space stations, and other planets very clearly. He stopped to admire the view. It was amazing how peaceful it was up there. No humans could get to him. I don't even need to breath air. Amazing. He smiled at this thought. Streak looked down and saw the coast line of Canada. He wanted to stay longer in space and admire his newly found ability but he could see that the sun was passing to the other side of the world and he should get some rest. So that's what he did. The silver man found an empty room in an inn ate some food and settled down for the night.

Streak woke up early the next day for no apparent reason other than his body said he'd rested enough. It was one of the few times that he'd actually slept through the night. He looked out the window and saw that it was a crisp clean day. The day seemed fresh new, like the world had started over again. The air was crisp and cool. The sky was as clear as possible and painted with reds, oranges, deep purples, and any other colors that made it seem perfect. He stretched out and headed back to the other side of the country to enjoy the peace and serenity of the wild. Streak felt a little like Christopher McCandless.

As soon as he had woken up completely he left the inn room he had commandeered. The wall rippled as Streak passed through it easily. He flew along back the way he had come the day before. This time, however, Streak stayed closer to the ground. He spent more time enjoying the scenery and the changes from big city to suburb to farms and finally to the wild. There were lots more farms than Streak had expected there to be, but he flew past them anyways. He seemed to be in a hurry to get to the wild. Like it was calling to him, beckoning like a siren and he could do nothing but heed its call.

After hours of flying straight he started to run out of fields, farms, and herds, and saw more high trees, and mountains. He landed in the middle of the forest in the undergrowth and snow. He paused and looked around the area he had landed in. It was closed in and almost completely over grown. However, there was an opening that seemed fresh and large enough for moose to travel through. He was getting hungry, having not eaten since early that morning. He hadn't trailed animals since he was younger and was hunting. Even though he had done this type of hunting with a high powered rifle and he had also never done this alone.

Streak moved through the forest with ease and stealth. Slowly but surely he moved through the bushes and trees. He was looking for tracks of a certain kind. He did eventually found some tracks that looked good. They were deep tracks in the fresh snow. Streak followed the tracks until more joined the first set. They were hoof prints. He couldn't tell if they were moose prints or a caribou. At least that's what he thought. He's had no formal study of these animals but either way he knew that he could hunt and kill it and eat it.

The hunt was on. Streak had walked for hours in one direction looking for the animals that belonged to the hoof prints. After starting to get discouraged by thinking that the trail was days old and he wasn't going to find them. Suddenly Streak reached the end of the forest. He froze. He was completely exposed and would loose the element of surprise on any animals that might have been around. He quickly hid back behind the last part of the forest and saw what he was hoping for. The caribou picked their head up and looked around. They'd heard Streak moving around and were on the alert. This was not how he wanted it to go.

His hunger was starting to get the best of him and he was thinking of rushing out there and charging the animals. He waited and waited until the caribou had fallen back into their droll of grazing. Streak snuck around the edge of the forest towards the back of the herd. Once he was in a good spot, a little farther back than the middle of the herd but not all the way in the rear. He was knew that he needed to keep a few of the animals in the herd behind him so that if he couldn't get one that he wanted he could always fall back and get another one. Streak created a knife and moved towards the caribou at a fast pace.

The caribou saw that there was an attacker. They started to run. The animals were fast but Streak was able to catch up to them once he started flying. He flew towards them at high speeds. They all started to run in one direction like they all thought as one. He spotted one out of the herd the way a wolf pack takes down the weakest member in the herd. He wasn't interested in the weakest member or the strongest he found one that was just as healthy as most. it was not different than any of the others.

It was an easy kill. Streak landed on top of the caribou that he was going to kill like he was riding a horse. in fact it didn't feel to much from riding a horse. He brought the knife, in his hand, down through the caribou's neck. It sliced cleanly through and the caribou slumped to the ground. He had severed the animals spinal cord so it was paralyzed. He quickly killed the animal so that it didn't suffer any more. Once the animal was dead and the rest of the caribou had left he field dressed the caribou and started a fire. Starting the fire was a lot harder than he thought it. Once he had the fire hot enough he created a spit for the meat and started to roast it. It took a while but eventually he had all the meat cooked and was eating it. He carried it along and feasted on it when he was hungry and when it was was close to dark. Once night had fallen he found a cave and made a fire at the entrance of it. The fire kept Streak warm and he slept fairly comfortably.

The fire had burned all night long. The sun lightly danced inside the walls of the cave trying to get through the tree foliage. The sun lightly touched the silver mans face like a lovers kiss in the morning. He slowly opened his eyes and looked at the fire that he had set the night before. The fire had bunt all night and was now a pile of smoldering ashes with a few coals still remaining. He looked around and saw the meat remaining meat from the caribou from the night before. It was the last of it what he had and would soon have to find more food to eat on his trip.

After eating his fill of the meat, which happened to be he last of the meat, he left the cave and continued on his way. The problem he had with hunting was that it took up most of the day. You either spent most of the day looking for the food, or you spend the time cooking it. He didn't mind but he there was always that little voice in the hunters head that brought up the right the sensible. "You may not be able to find any food today. You may have to go to bed hungry. And the next day may not be much better food wise." He had to keep the voice in his head as quiet as possible. It wasn't an easy task especially when he spotted more animal tracks in the snow.

He flew high over head. the forest and the open fields of snow below him. He flew faster this time, following the tracks in the snow. These tracks seemed different. He wasn't sure how they were different, but he was sure that he could handle whatever it was. Streak flew for at least half an hour in the direction the tracks were heading. It didn't take him long to find the herd. It was a herd of moose. Streak landed away from the herd so he could plan his attack on the herd. Through stories he'd heard in New York, and a little eves dropping, he had learned that the Haywire virus had given the moose the ability of telepathy or telekinesis, whatever he heard it was a little jumbled and perhaps misunderstood. One moose wandered a little farther away from the herd and over towards Streak. He held his breath thinking the moose knew he was there. It didn't, and started to graze.

Before it started grazing he was able to look into its eyes. The moose's eyes looked different than the caribou's eyes. Aside from the fact that they were a different species. They looked brighter than the normal dull look of a wild animals. They looked smarter. He decided it was time to attack. Streak was going to go after the moose that was closest to him and he prepared the attack. He would need something a bit bigger than a knife.

Streak formed a sword out of the silver and prepared to strike. He moved into position as quietly as possible. Streak was just off to the side of the moose so that it couldn't see him. He started walking out of the cover of the brush and towards the moose when he stepped on a hidden twig. The twig snapped under his foot and he froze. The moose heard the twig snap. It lifted its head and looked in Streak's direction. Luckily the moose didn't see him and went back to grazing. Streak decided to rush the moose and hope to surprise it.

He stood up and made a dash at the moose. Suddenly the silver man appeared out of seemingly no where. The moose saw him coming as soon as Streak came out of the brush. It looked at him and blinked. It wasn't a normal blink however. When the animal blinked Streak was thrown into the air. The moose followed Streak's movements and threw him against a tree. Streak was winded and laid there for a minute catching his breath. He slowly got up and moved in again to attack. The moose once again easily threw him into the air. It then threw him out into the middle of the open snow covered field and closer to the rest of the herd. All the moose in the herd knew he was there now and weren't going to make things easy on him.

Once he was back on the ground he thought, I need to distract them so that I can get one of them. He kept his sword out in case he got close enough to one of the animals he could use it on. Streak started throwing knives at the moose in seemingly random order. As he did this he moved closer to the one he was hoping to kill. All the moose were busy deflecting the knives he was throwing at them. The knives weren't big enough, or aimed at the right spots, to kill any of them. If it did hit one of the animals all it would do is hurt it or wound it. Streak charged the moose he was hoping to get when he started this whole ordeal. Streak was running at full speed by now and throwing knives as fast as he could, and in as many directions and at as many of the other moose as he could. His plan was working. They were to busy defending themselves that they weren't bothering with Streak running straight toward them.

Streak brought the sword above his head as he continued to run towards the moose. He brought the sword down and it struck the animals head. The moose dropped like a sack of rocks to the ground, dead. The other moose realized what happened and ran away to leave their comrade to be fed upon by Streak and any other animals that passed by the carcass. Streak then preceded to field dress the moose just like he did with the caribou a few days prior. Once he was done field dressing the animal he left the remains to be picked at by whatever animals happened to come along. He carried the heavy pile of meat away from the spot and found some wood to cook the meat with. Streak ended up flying a for a little while carrying the meat. Eventually he found a place to cook the meat and prepared it for travel. The work took mast of the afternoon, considering killing the moose took most of the morning. Once it was all prepared he headed out his area and went on his way.

The sun had started to set, so once again he looked for a place to sleep for the night. He was a little disappointed at the progress he made that day but decided it was better not to dwell on it because he knew that sort of thing could happen when you had to hunt and kill your food. He then found another cave and was lucky enough that it was empty. He moved into the place and set up his camp. He ate dinner and went to sleep. He was exhausted from the hunt and from getting thrown around by the moose.

Streak slept soundly through the night. He hadn't had a nights sleep interrupted since he had the run in with the ex-guard. Things were looking up according to Streak's mental status. He still had dreams of years before but it wasn't about the camps. These dreams he could deal with since it wasn't traumatizing, just heartbreaking. he woke up in pretty much the same way as he did the day before. The fire was dead, and the wind was blowing slightly. He ate more of the meat and left the cave carrying the rest with him. He continued to head west, this time a little slower because of the meat he was carrying. He'd managed to make a make-shift sack to carry all the cooked meat with. It worked considerably well. After many hours of traveling he settled down for some lunch. Since he already had the meat with him, all he needed to do was to find some fruit or berries to balance out the food. He moved through the forest floor searching high and low for some fruit that he could eat.

After searching for quite some time he found some berries. They seemed like the right kind that he could eat. There were plenty of teeth marks and bite marks covering different parts of the bush. "Well, this means that animals are eating it and its safe for me to eat." He said taking a leaf in his hand and rubbed it between his fingers. He didn't care if there were animals around and he scared them off by talking aloud. He had all the meat he would need for some time. He picked a handful of berries and returned to where he had left the meat. Streak enjoyed the moose meat and berries that he had found. Once he was finished eating he gathered his belongings, what remained of the meat which was still quite a bit, and left the spot.

Streak flew just above the trees so that he could see where he was headed. He needed some reference points to be able to know where he was and where he was headed. Streak eventually found a road and followed that at a more north west direction than a west direction. He eventually saw signs for "Anchorage 115KM". That meant that he was still in Canada. Pretty soon the signs were saying distances in miles. That only meant that he was back in the U.S. It took him hours to find a nice place to stay and moved through the city. He was enjoying his time spent sleeping outdoors so he was inclined to find a cozy place to sleep in the forests that lined the cities outskirts.

Streak was sleeping soundly when he was woken up by lights. These lights weren't from cars, trucks, or anything man made. They were something completely natural to the earth and very rarely seen by many people who did not live in Alaska or the frozen northern lands of Canada. It was the aurora borealis. Streak laid on the ground, covered in snow so that only his head was showing. He was amazed by the beauty of it. It was definitely a sight to behold. He continued to watch the sight until it faded away and left nothing but the stars.

(continued In Mexico)