Locke really, really hated the Danger Room. Hardly anything good ever came from it the few times that he had gone in there. Even in the dead of winter Locke preferred to train outside where there was actual dirt and rocks, and no risk of tentacles pulling you into a wall or possible cave-in. It felt more natural to be outside and working with his powers rather than being penned in. No wonder Gina didn’t go for flights in there when it rained. He knew how realistic things could look and feel, but Locke still had problems believing that the materials he had were usable. That hesitation of not trusting that what he was working with actually existed always gave him problems.

Today he was going to be tested to see how well he could handle himself in there. No details had been given to Locke as to what was going to go down in the Danger Room. All he knew was that his past three years of training and growth would be evaluated. Please, not the Lovecraft program again,[/color] he thought, rolling his neck. Locke should be scared out of his mind about this. He demanded knowing things in advance. Part of the reason he had such problems with the Lovecraft program was that it was too random for him. There was no logic to it. Right now he was facing an unknown quantity. He should be scared. But instead he felt rather energized.

This stalker situation was out of control. Thanks to Chase he knew what his stalker looked like. The angles of the face were vaguely familiar to him, things that faintly resembled features Locke had. He had a red tint to his hair that matched Renee’s. She had claimed that she was his mom. Locke couldn’t get that to make sense in his head. His dad didn’t ever want to talk about Locke’s mother. Almost all photos of her had vanished from their house. As was Locke only had one picture of her, the face worn out, the hair longer than it had been when Chase was Renee. But if Renee was really his mother why couldn’t Locke remember her at all? One of the few memories he had from his childhood that involved his mom was the time he got lost in a hedge maze. As hard as he might try he couldn’t remember his mom’s voice. When Renee had spoken it didn’t stir up any memories in his mind. If she really was his mom what had happened to keep her from being a part of his life? Obviously she was off balance, but you would think his dad owed Locke some explanation, or at least a warning. Just to let you know, your mother is insane.

Locke wasn’t just going to stand by. With Chase as Renee, Locke had been defenseless. It was clear that Locke needed to step up his game, to get the sort of training that hadn’t been offered to him before. Thus far his training had been putting Locke in a supportive role, boosting the talents of others. No training had been given for self defense. If he was to run into Renee, the real Renee, he’d have to be more than he was now.

Then there was the damage that Locke had done to Chase. A bloody nose was painful, and Locke hadn’t meant to do it. On the whole it wasn’t the bloody nose that had been the most damaging. It was seeing a young mutant use his powers and having it turn against them. Young mutants needed to be able to learn how to use their powers without danger. And also painful was the thought that Chase could have been so easily manipulated. Using his shape shifting to turn into Renee had been Chase’s idea, and Locke had tried to convince him otherwise, then tried to stop it once it happened. On the other hand Locke had been tempted to make Chase do it. How could Locke let Chase get messed up?

And what about kids like Chris and Mai? Chris was so impressed by Locke that he wanted to be a mutant himself. They were normal kids who were sympathetic to the plight of mutants, even if they were still too young to understand the prejudices entirely. Kendra was coming around to having a mutant for a stepson, but there had been some ill will wished towards his family with his mutation being exposed. In a world filled with hate Locke had to find a balance for both sides. Humans were intimidated by a future in which they were a minority to those who could change reality. Mutants were being pressured by politics and society to act almost as sheep, and to deny a large part of who they were.

”I’ve got this,” Locke comforted himself. Inhale, hold breath, slowly exhale. Locke didn’t prep himself by stretching out his limbs. His body wasn’t the thing that needed to be warmed up as much as his mind. If Locke’s brain wasn’t clear and focused Fluffy wasn’t going to work out well. For now he had to forget about Renee and who she might be. Forget about Chase being terrified by what had happened. Just focus on emptying out his mind and feeling the good vibrations.

This should be interesting...

All official and not even shaken by recent events (yeah keep tellin' yourself that), Maya marched into the Danger Room, satisfied to see the rookie already there. Once again, she was in charge of designing an X-exam, and she was really proud of the work she had done. She could not wait to see how locke would deal with it.

"Bright eyed and bushy tailed" she grinned as she waved to him "All right, here is the deal. In a few minutes you will be thrown into a training situation, no spoilers, you'll see soon enough. It has been designed to test your mutant powers and abilities, as well as other important skills, and most of all, how smart you are when you have to think on your feet. The training program cannot be stopped until you have accomplished your goal, or been knocked unconscious. Your goal is simple: find water."

Maya grinned, patted Locke on the shoulder, and started towards the god room.

"Have fun, earthbender. I'll be watching from up there."

In spite of the no spoilers warning, Maya had given Locke important information. What the program may entail he hadn’t been told, but he knew his end goal. Good. Locke hated surprises. If he had any choice in the matter Locke would have been told in advance exactly what every birthday and Christmas present he would ever get was. Lovecraft had been an unpredictable disaster, but the end goal was clear. The session with Sam had been entertaining, especially with the mineshaft full of workable materials. Unfortunately there hadn’t been a task to accomplish, which in the end, made it only slightly more interesting than his usual outside training. With this test he was given a task. Find water. Water was critical to life, Locke knew that. He also knew that the more he used his powers the more dry his throat got. It was one of the reasons why he always carried plenty of bottles of water with him when he went out into the city. In the past he had been caught without them and his body had grown so tired and dehydrated that he couldn’t support his own weight. Bringing something in with him had been forbidden, and he could see why. If he had what he needed to find there was no point in the exercise. Whatever location the Danger Room decided to put him in would be stressing the importance of water.

That brief moment when the Danger Room loaded the program and adjusted the surroundings was always the worse. In addition to dehydrating himself, the longer that Locke spent with his mind in the ground the harder it was for him to tell where he stood when back in his proper mind. The world would spin around, tilted at an angle, while things jumped up and down. It was the chaotic merry-go-round his father described seeing with his glasses off. Every time Locke stepped out of Fluffy and onto that merry-go-round he wanted to shout until he could be let off it. As bad as that was, when the Danger Room shifted it was a million times worse. The merry-go-round had been sped up, the lights flashing too brightly and too frequently, the music not only played backwards, but out of tune and too loudly. This wasn’t a chaotic merry-go-round. This was that ride that had hills you sped over, first clockwise, then counter clockwise while bass music rattled your bones, run by an insane ferret. It never lasted more than a few seconds, but they were the most nauseating seconds in Locke’s life. He always was caught off guard so he could never brace himself for it. Today was no exception.

Heat blasted over Locke, making him feel as though his clothes were closing in around him. As always Locke had worn multiple layers. The institute was usually too cold for him, resulting in multiple shirts and long jeans. Minus the enclosing clothes it felt pleasant. Locke enjoyed high heat and even better was a dry heat. New York’s summers had the temperature right, but the humidity was always so high. If you could crawl inside of an oven you would be wherever here is Locke thought, having to squint in the bright sunlight. He couldn’t remember a time with so much sun. No clouds were in the sky, just a blue that seemed to shiver with the waves of heat. Part of what had made everything seem so brilliantly bright was a sea of sand so pale as to seem light. Sprinkled about in the sand were large boulders, full of pits where over time wind and sand had worn away the stone. No plant life to be seen, no cacti, no tumbleweeds, just stones.

Locke turned his face towards the sun, trying to block out the light with his hand. How many hours until sundown? Did time flow the same here in the Danger Room’s desert as it did outside it? Flipping his hand back and forth Locke counted how many hands until he hit the horizon. There was something about how many hands meaning how many hours until sunset. It probably only worked if you knew if it was before noon or after it. He closed his eyes, trying to rely solely on his earth sense. Although it never provided him with a height, Locke was able to tell at least where things rested . The rocks that he had been able to see so clearly with his eyes seemed faded and fuzzy to his mind. Sand was the hardest thing for Locke to work with. It had been one of the first materials that he found out responded to him, but it had no way of sticking together on its own. Dirt would clod together, but sand didn’t. He hated working with sand.

Persperation was beginning to form on his forehead, reminding Locke that he had a job to do. With nothing to indicate life any direction seemed as good a choice as possible. Locke started heading to the biggest outcrop of rocks that he could see, deciding that at least he would be on something easier to work with, and maybe even get a better view of his surroundings.

Some distance away, just outside of the teen’s range there was a stirring under the sand. Long thin feelers detected movement topside. It was not the wide spread movement of the sandstorms which caused them to dig deeper down, but rather a steady pace of food. The creature’s legs propelled it through the sand like a fish through water. Topside all that would be noticed was a slight raise in the sand. Rather than moving like a snake, swinging side from side, the creature moved in more or less a straight line. Most often its prey was small and it required more food than was readily available. This meant periods of rest to conserve energy. Such movement meant a large source of food. As its pray moved it followed.

Maya sat back and kept an eye on the monitors. So far, the movie was pretty boring, with one guy walking in an endless desert, visibly uncomfortable. She knew the calm was just an illusin though, just like everything else in the Danger Room: the scene was going to change, and then she'd see what this guy was really made of. She knew his powers could deal with sand, but not as easily as other materials; that was what was supposed to make this all the more interesting.

She could see the slight movement under the sand; the guy had not noticed that yet. Maya leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk. Any moment now...

The rocks didn’t provide a great amount of height in which to survey the desert. All Locke could see was sand. If dehydration didn’t get you, boredom would. Shear monotony, and he hadn’t reached the point where the Danger Room’s programming forced it to repeat itself. Not only was it a dull sight to look at, but it was almost blindingly bright to Locke. Ever since the crash Locke got headaches easily if a room was too well lit. What a pity he hadn’t brought along a pair of shades, this harsh sunlight reflecting off the sand made the world look almost white. Locke had yet to stop squinting his eyes. There was a trickle of sweat going down the back of his neck, tickling him. Thermal undershirts didn’t work too well in a desert during the day, and that was just one of the multiple layers that Locke wore on top.

Just because he had chopped of most of his hair did not mean that Locke was secure in his self image. If anything it had worsened. Not only did he lack the security that came with hiding behind his bangs, the hair cut had been sloppy. It didn’t look as though he had been in a mental institution and somehow got a hold of scissors that weren’t of the safety variety. He simply looked like he did not get a professional haircut and needed one to even things up. When his hair was longer it was at least uniformed. Shorter hair meant that he was a little bit cooler, temperature wise. The jury was still out as to whether the new hairstyle improved his popularity. Not that Locke had the desire to be voted prom king or anything, but he did care about how people viewed him. Which was why as he started pulling the top layers off the Californian did a rather impressive impression of a tomato. He knew he was being watched, which made things awkward enough, but he was being watched by a girl as well. Just have heat stroke! Not embarrassed or anything![/color] Locke thought, as though his mind could convince the one watching that it was the truth. If there was anything worse than being embarrassed it was having people know you were.

Behind him a thing poked up out of the sand. It was something halfway between a tentacle and a snake. Lean and consistent in thickness it stood like a cobra would, swaying ever so softly. The thing lacked scales though, and was partially buried. Somehow the prey had vanished. Not stop moving. It would be able to tell if the prey had stopped moving. One moment it was there, the next, gone. Such things happened. The above world was marred by the nothing spots. Nothing moved in the nothing spots. The appendage drooped down, brushing against the sand the way one might stir a pool with a toe. Testing.

Without a backpack Locke was left holding onto three shirts and the sun beating down on him. Sweat was fine until it was something sensitive like the palms of his hands, at which point he hated it. His back was starting to feel taut, a sure sign that he was getting a little too much sun on it. Wherever he was the sun seemed to be burning just a little more intensely and the air felt a fair bit heavier. It was like some sort of vice was squeezing his chest. ”Right, water,” he said, taking the button up shirt back and slipping it on. Two more shirts left. The t-shirt was tucked into the hem of his jeans. Locke didn’t know how long this was going to take, but he knew that nights in a desert could be cold. All that was left now was the thermal. This went back over his head, but rather than pulling his arms through, Locke lifted the hem up and back over. It was the sort of thing he’d seen Chris do before to make fun of his sister, using the shirt in substitution of long hair. For now it was a sort of head-dress that helped with the sun’s glare.

There was a unique sight facing him as he turned around. Having headed up onto the rocks to get a better view, Locke remembered that water was usually in low places. Rivers can’t flow uphill, they have to flow down,[/color] was his rational. Science has to be on my side for once. The toe of his shoe just barely grazed the sand and the appendage’s motion froze. It was now stiff as a board, poised and waiting. This was the first sign of life that Locke had encountered, and that soft partial step of his was the first indication for the creature that it had not lost its meal yet. Locke took a step back, seeking comfort in the more solid material. Just what he was looking at was unclear, but when it went back up, brushing the sand about, it was clearly not water.

”Let’s get a better look at you,” Locke whispered, slowly crouching down, his eyes never leaving the strange protuberance. The sleek darkness of it looked so out of place here and he did not trust it. Granted he never really trusted anything the Danger Room presented him after that first night. Placing his palms on the rock Locke was granted a better “view” of things. He had never been able to “see” things other than their contact points above the surface. On the other hand he had never tried to look down. Silly really, since it was what his feet touched that gave him that extra sense.

Sand was shifting, making things blurred, like static taking over a radio station. What he was looking for was there, the sand was slowly settling around it, but the shape wasn’t clear to him. It was big, he knew that much. The sand was falling about it for so large an area. Locke couldn’t picture in his mind what form this thing had. Whatever it was, it was like nothing he had ever encountered before, and brought to mind alien creatures from the more science fiction based thrillers that he watched. Out of curiosity he tried pulling some of the sand together, just to stir things up a little. The creature in the sand was not happy about this, using two large parts of it near him to shove the sand away.

Those two large things that Locke had felt moving were not moving down as he would have liked, but rather up and out of the sand. A massive pair of claws emerged, but they weren't normal, even if they had been scaled down. The claws had ridges along the inside, the way that a crab's would be, but it lacked the other half, keeping them from being able to pinch shut. Had the claws had that second half they would resemble a large pair of shears, long, thin, and dangerous. Said claws were supported by an insectoid of equally massive proportions. At least it seemed insect like to Locke. The legs were perfectly capable of supporting the size and weight of the body, contrary to what the teen had been taught by Bill Nye. This massive thing looked like some bizarre scorpion on steroids. Almost a scorpion. The body was shaped more like an elongated spider, but there was a thin whip like stinger at the end. There were no eyes that Locke could see, which begged the question of how it found its way to him. With no discernible facial features you would think it'd be difficult to tell how it felt about this strange and squishy thing in its territory, but Locke had a sinking feeling that it was pissed.

Now might be a good time to take evasive action. Locke sidestepped, leaning back as the creature's tail stretched over the body and hovered near him. His heart did a flying leap into his throat and for a moment it felt like his back was about to snap in half. But then he noticed that it did not seem to stray from its spot. The stinger was hovering there, not moving while the creature stayed tense. "Alright.. that's weird," Locke croaked to himself, licking his lips. This was feeling like a reverse Jurassic Park moment. The T-Rex was the thing staying still, and the prey was moving, but the beastie still didn't see it. Locke glanced past the creature, eyeing the area of sand that it had disturbed. No eyes, and yet it had sensed him. Do you work like me?[/i] he wondered, pulling at the sand just at the boundaries of his range. Like a divining rod that stinger swerved away from it's prior post to where Locke messed about with the sand, the creature following it. "Alright, it's your sandbox." he said, looking about him for the next outcropping of rocks. Walking on the sand right now was out of the question. Problem was that he'd have no choice to but to do so to get there. He dared to move on the rocks more, startled to see that the scorpion did not adjust back to him.

This time Locke tried shifting the rocks. The material was very hard, he could tell that much, but not unworkable like metal. Again the scorpion did not register the movement. Having lost sight of its prey it started to settle itself back into the sand. "I can't see you out there, but you can't see me up here." The teen looked around again. If he could stick to the rocks he'd stand a chance of not alerting the scorpion. From where he stood Locke could see more rocks heading what he felt was downhill, but he couldn't be sure how far they stretched. The objective was to find water, and it was his best bet for now. Staring at the distance from where he was now to the closest rocks only made it look farther away. Best to make a run for it while his confidence was still telling him he stood a chance.

Running, Locke quickly realized, was a very, very bad idea. Not even just bad. A bad idea is using Kool-Aid in place of milk when eating Trix cereal. This was probably the dumbest thing he had ever done, ranking right up there with approaching Renee and following Saph. It wasn’t like the teen purposely set out to endanger himself. His love of the Saw series affirmed the belief that when you escape death you are more appreciative of life. That combined with his concern over his brother and sister meant that Locke was not a teen who wanted off this crazy merry-go-round. Both of examples of dangerous, stupid ideas had been him risking his well being out of concern for someone else. Locke could have easily called out for the session to end, that he didn’t want to do this. But that wasn’t who he was either. Locke may step away from his math or physics homework at times, but he always saw it through to the end. It wasn’t in him to give up. When it came to his powers Locke was even more persistent. Without anyone to tell him so Locke still spent time training each day. In his downtime Locke liked hanging out on his bed, holding onto the pet rock that Kendra had given him, getting in touch with the material. The solid stone was much more familiar to him than this sand that shifted as he ran.

As his feet pounded, his legs propelling him across the dune there was movement. Had Locke not known that there was that creature lurking around nearby he might not have noticed the speed of it compared to his running. Any movement above the surface caused more than just the sand his feet touched to tumble and move. The creature beneath was stirring, Locke knew that, and it was coming for him. What the teen did not think about was how his steps might attract this thing. Oh sure, he suspected it would know when he moved on the sand. As long as his feet were touching the floor Locke could keep an ‘eye’ on those moving around, so why wouldn’t this thing know what he was up to? If Locke had walked softly he would be less noticeable to it.

But walking would also mean he’d be an easy target for longer. The creature was coming up fast, making a beeline towards him like the two were opposite magnets. He refused to look behind him, to check on the progress that the scorpion was moving at. Horror movies weren’t always the best indication of life lessons. You don’t usually have someone in a hockey mask running around a summer camp killing people, or the vengeful ghost of a dead man invade your dreams. Such things were up for grabs with the emergence of mutants. Genetics aside, reality often was the best way to learn something, but there were some facts that stayed the same no matter if Freddy was after you or not. Nobody can run at their best capabilities if you are looking behind your shoulder. For the movies Locke watched, doing so was a guarantee that you were going to fall down. His baseball coaches always pressed that looking backwards was wrong. All you’d do is distract yourself. Either you’re good enough to get there or you aren’t.

Getting out in little league baseball is one thing, getting caught by an oversized scorpion in a desert is another. Locke was keenly aware of the scorpion now as it grew closer to the surface. Ten feet, five feet, four, three… The rocks seemed to stay always just beyond his reach as he ran. Sensing, more than seeing the stinger hovering above him Locke hit the ground flatt. He had not tripped as the victims always do, but rather made the choice to try and tumble those last precious inches to the rocks. With more contact on the sand Locke became more aware of what he was seeing. Although still fuzzy he could feel how the sand had been shifted, sense the way that this beast stood, even the rock just behind him. All this processed in a blink as locke’s mind no longer was in his body. Instead it was in that rock behind, pulling at the earth with a speed that he had never thought he possessed. Locke’s golems had never been formed with a need for speed. The teen didn’t need speed. He stayed cautiously on the edge of things, making Fluffy first and then sending the golem into the fray.

The stinger did not hit him. Locke rolled off his stomach, pressing himself up into a sitting position. The golem had failed to form properly, but it had pulled the stone, making a partial arch that covered his back. He had to smile. He’d trapped people in floors before, having Fluffy tackle them and releasing the golem once the body was pinned, but he had yet to get the stone to keep from connecting. Looking up at the small shelter he had made Locke could tell what would be which part of the golem, though it probably didn’t look like much to anyone else. Thanks[/i] he thought, pressing a hand against the stone.

There was little time to relax though, as one of those long claws made a swipe for his legs, forcing the teen to scrunch up. He could barely stay crunched under it, and besides which his butt was on the sand. His shelter blocked off enough of the scorpion that Locke could see only part of it moving around. It was trying to get him, knowing he was there with each move he made.

One positive thing that Locke could say about the Danger Room was that it always kept you on your feet. Either someone had programmed it to throw curve balls at you, or you were in there with someone who made you try things. If the objective was simply to survive, not to find water, Locke couldn’t stay tucked under his golem shelter forever anyways. The scorpion might be an insect thing, but it was still not brainless. Locke kicked at a claw, backing himself up more against the curve of stone. He had gotten close enough that the rock responded to him, which meant that he had to be close enough that he could get on it safely. But then what? It wasn’t as though Locke could just keep outrunning this stupid thing. Scorpions in this universe that the Danger Room created moved faster than ones in the real world. Or maybe that was the way that all scorpions moved. With the exception of the zoo, Locke only ever saw them on TV, usually with someone shining a black light on them to make them glow or eating them. What Locke had to do was to beat this thing and move on. On the sand it had the advantage, being designed to move through it, and it could sense him standing on the surface better than he could underneath it.

Slamming his palms on the surface Locke created a golem, just a little shorter than him off to the side. He hated working with sand. There never seemed to be a shortage of it when it was available, but it could not hold form dry. When wet, sand was more tolerable, it was less slippery, less likely to fall off itself. Locke couldn’t really focus on more than keeping Fluffy together. But on the upside it moved so much quicker than the stone did. If he got out of this program in one piece Locke promised himself he would study more of the speed aspect of his power. Right now he was just trying to get the scorpion to not notice him. With it properly distracted, wondering why it was picking up on more food, but the second meal didn’t touch with anything else, Locke ducked out under his shelter and onto the second stone outcropping.

It took the scorpion a minute to realize that it’s first prey had moved. It no longer was curled up where the creature had left it, but there was no sign of it anywhere. There was a nothing area again. Then once more the prey was there. Because Locke took a step onto the sand. His plan was simple, and more than a little dangerous, but he figured that it could work. He had trapped Cold Steel’s leg in the dirt before, so why not try the same thing with the scorpion. Locke figured that it had to be easier to hurt a scorpion’s leg than a human’s. With an injured leg it might not be able to move properly. Taking care of the thing was a top priority to Locke, probably on par with finding water. He was going to have to travel across the sand, and to do that he needed the scorpion out of the way.

With great purpose Locke stomped on the sand, just at the edge of his rock. The scorpion, distracted by Fluffy, twitched a little, recognizing the teen, but unsure or unwilling to leave this strange thing that was disturbing its territory. Again Locke stomped, harder this time. Yes the scorpion might live here, but this was Locke’s specialty. He wasn’t going to be intimidated, and he was not going to be ignored.

The repeated stomping worked, and the scorpion turned it’s attention to the teen once more. Hard to say if this was an improvement or not, given that Locke had just made a mad dash to this rock so that he could avoid the stupid thing in the first place. Final judgment of his actions would come when he either succeeded or failed miserably. With the scorpion’s eyes upon him once again, Locke wiggled his fingers, getting some of the sand to creep up onto the rock. As long as the scorpion couldn’t see him on the rocks there was a flaw in the battle plan. By bringing some of the sand to him, a task easier than trying to keep the sand golems together, Locke was laying out a red carpet of sorts. A red carpet that was going to be right over a trap. ”C’mon, I’m right here,” Locke egged the creature on, treading on the sand he had brought up, ”It’s perfectly safe.”

Locke’s entire body felt like a guitar string, so taut that it would snap. He was playing Russian Roulette with a giant bug for a gun. Anything could go wrong at any second. Locke might fall, the creature might get in a lucky shot, a sandstorm could whip up and bury them both. It was all about finding the delicate balance between getting close to the monstrosity and staying ahead of it. Tight skin, tight back, Locke was feeling the heat and full of nervous energy. But it wasn’t as though he was afraid. Locke knew that in the end the Danger Room wasn’t what he saw right now. He also had enough faith that letting a student die wasn’t something that the school was going to allow to happen. Legal issues were a pain in the butt when someone dies from an accident on their own time, Locke knew that from experience. When you’re at school, or at a store, or anything like that, your safety was a liability to whoever owned the building. Ms. T had promised Locke security when he told her about the letters. Why would she allow him to get killed on institute grounds? So he wasn’t scared, but you couldn’t call this bravery either. Being brave is when something is scary, and you don’t have to do it, but you still do anyways.

Once the scorpion had stepped far enough onto the rock, Locke made his move. He’d be vulnerable during the attack, his mind not paying heed to the very thing that he was trying to hurt. Irony, thy name is Fluffy. From experience Locke knew that a rapid abandonment of the golem resulted in gopher holes, so making an opening for the creature to get a leg or two stuck in wasn’t an issue. Where the difficulty lay was in closing those holes faster than the creature could pull them out. With people it wasn’t as hard to surprise. Nobody much paid attention to what their feet were on, provided that the ground was solid. This fiend saw things the way that the teen did. The world did not matter above the surface, just what it made contact with, and what lay beneath. Rocks were its weakness, but to lure it this far Locke had put a layer of sand on his battlefield. Was it enough to alert the scorpion if there was a hole? Only one way to find out,[/I] Locke thought briefly before his mind jumped into the rock. Again the speed with which he found himself able to work with the materials amazed him. Once this ordeal was over with, Locke was seriously going to have to start including speed into his daily training sessions.

It knew something was wrong when its legs went down farther, skidding slightly. As the thing tried to right itself, get back that precise balance that insects have to have to keep all legs going the proper way. When Locke felt a leg in a hole he squeezed it with his mind, a hand forming under the rock to keep it in place. One leg caught, back up a step, bring the sand forwards more, try for a second leg, this time on the other side. Going back and forth between the two different mediums was making his head swim, but Locke could tell that it was working. Whatever type of rock he was standing on, it liked him. No stubborn “I’m too old for this”, or the spastic enthusiasm of clay. It responded to Locke a great deal easier than his brother or sister did, causing Locke to question if working with little kids was really the best career option for him. Well, you never saw Batman getting a paycheck from Commissioner Gordon.

When the rock that Locke stood on shook, his focus snapped. He did it. Locke’s insane plan actually managed to disable the scorpion. By going for every other leg on the opposite sides of the body Locke had gotten the scorpion to loose it’s footing. The stinger like thing was still waving about, but Locke had a feeling that it wasn’t as dangerous now. After all, the beast was trapped by something that it couldn’t see in. With a confident smile Locke waved at the scorpion as he made his way back towards the sand, careful of the swinging appendage.

As far as finding water, Locke’s plan had not changed much. He still was going in what his eyes told him was a downhill direction, but would be more respectful and cautious of the sand. There were plenty of things that he didn’t know about the scorpion, like how sensitive it was to things walking around on the surface. The thin layer of sand was enough for it to have followed Locke to its doom on the rock. His face was beginning to prickle, undoubtedly meaning that he was getting a sunburn there. As he walked along, Locke made sure to check not only what his earth sense was saying about the things his eye could see, but what was under his feet as well. It wouldn’t do him any good to be caught where there were no rocks to make a stand on.

Treading carefully became harder the farther Locke progressed. Although in his mind Locke knew he must just be walking in a big circle in an empty room, the program kept the horizon ahead of him, and his surroundings did not repeat. It was hard for him to fully submit to this fact. Progress was being made, but it was draining him. Exhaustion made him drag his feet. Twice he stumbled. Heat helped a little with the aching of his leg, but he was still giving it a good work out. The third time Locke stumbled he didn’t right himself. Face down in the sand he could feel the sun baking his back, and the sand warming his stomach. As drained as he felt, his body turning as dry as the sand beneath him, he had to check underneath him. He’d fallen hard, and that had to set off some alarm bells for any more scorpions. He sensed no movement, but there was something blocking his “sight” ahead. Fighting the urge to groan, because Locke remembered that he was being watched still, he pushed himself onto his knees. That thing blocking his senses seemed so familiar, like something he had practiced with before. If only his mind wasn’t so fuzzed he could place it.

Locke was close to water.

Don’t stop yet, Locke pleaded with his body while his mind searched out any sort of movement. There was no outcropping of rocks that he could repeat his tactic from earlier on if he had to defend himself. It really felt as though some of the sand not only crept into his jeans, but somehow had been funneled directly into his bad knee. Any slight bend of the leg brought about a grating pain. The distance traveled wasn’t what had bothered his knee, but rather what he had traveled on. Going up, over, and down sand dunes required more muscle work than you initially think. Getting on his knees had been the easy part. He was able to use his arms and back for most of the work. Trying to stand all the way up was harder. There wasn’t anything going on under his feet that he could tell, but the scorpions might have a better range of ‘vision’ than Locke did. Locke was pretty sure that his earth sense was acting up. All he could see around him was sand, but there was something wrong.

Sand was difficult enough to ‘see’ through. If the wind blew, or something scuttled over it, it moved and shifted. You can’t move just one grain of sand. It caused an avalanche like effect. Not only that, but everything felt fuzzy looking, as though he needed a special pair of glasses. Something was blocking, or at least dulling, his senses. Not that Locke was seeing very much at this point. He felt disconnected from his body. Thoughts moved more sluggishly, and Locke didn’t know if it was because he’d been using his powers too much or if he was overheated. Probably a bit of both.

Locke frowned. That blind spot should have something that Locke picked up on, unless the Danger Room’s programming had a glitch in it. The desert didn’t have anything living in it as far as plant life went. Why would there be a part that was different? His body, now fully in the vertical position, had gone into a almost zombie like trance as he walked stiffly forwards. With each step bringing him closer to the strangeness he became more animated. Each step made him realize more why this blind spot felt familiar. Chris had tried playing a sort of Marco Polo in the Hudson River with Fluffy. The golem didn’t stick together well when Locke tried bringing it in from outside the river, but there was some more success with the stones inside. The mud that was in the river though felt similar to this.

But where the sense of different sand was there was no sign of water. No plants were growing, so you could hardly think of it as an oasis. But Locke was sure that this sand wasn’t like the stuff that was hiding in every nook and cranny of his clothes. It just felt different, heavier below what he could see. Locke was standing right on top of the water that he was suppose to find. All he had to do was dig a little for it.