(1st story)
In the Eastern Rockies, along the Canadian/U.S. border, a plain-clothed Logan goes for a hike. It’s time to leave, that’s for sure. A man can get out of touch with things, happens easy.
Huhmph… “Get out of touch with things?” Get a load of that – thinkin’ like some kind of whale-savin’ poetry reader. But he guesses this place does that to ya. One thing’s certain – man spends enough time in this place, it’ll either accept him or kill him. If it kills him, it leaves his bones to the snow and the bush, uses his body to feed on for a while. Could be years before anyone finds what’s left of the corpse. If this land accepts him, then it starts teachin’ him things. Pretty soon, the guy gets to know the place real well, gets to know it like he does his own house. This place becomes his home, even more than a house could ever be. And when he leaves it for a while, and then comes back, he can tell in an instant whether or not someone else has been walkin’ around in it.
Peering over a nearby ridge, Logan sees a construction site with a big sign next to it that says “No Trespassing. Construction Area. Property of Murray Western Development Corp.” Just then, two men approach Logan from behind. One of the men yells at him and asks him what he thinks he’s doing. He’s on private property. He then advises Logan to leave the way he came. If he catches him back there again, he’ll regret it. When Logan doesn’t move, the man angrily asks him “Did you hear me shorty? I said get out of here! Now!” Staring at the man, Logan thinks to himself that these days, no matter how far you go, there are just some things you can’t seem to get away from. With that, Logan pops his claws.
In short time, Logan has both of the men tied upside down in the trees. One of the men tells him h-h-hey… he d-doesn’t know who he thinks he is, but h-he’s in big t-trouble now. He’d b-better just… h-he’d better just… better… just… His partner tells him, Bill, to just shuddup.
Looking through the man’s wallet, Logan reads aloud “William T. Murray, Jr., V.P. in charge of development coordination, Murray Industries, Inc., Denver.” Logan remarks just like the thought – a twinky, and an out-of-state twinky at that. Bill tells him to give his wallet back or he’ll have him up on assault charges. Y-yeah! He heard him. Assault! Trespassing! B-burgla… Making his way over to him, Logan blows his cigar smoke directly into Bill’s face, and then puts his construction helmet over his head. Walking away, Logan tells him sure, twinky. He’ll see him in court. Have his people fax lunch to his people.
Continuing his journey, Logan thinks to himself that there are some things a guy just can’t get away from. He guesses it was just a matter of time. The little twinkies with the calculators and computers will inherit the earth. If it ain’t movin’, move it. If it’s just layin’ there, mindin’ its own business, find a way to make it turn a profit. Wasn’t always like this, was it? Aw, who does he think he’s foolin’?
Making his way past the wildlife, Logan notices that this place is old, older than anyone could ever guess. It’s a livin’ place, a breathin’ place. Any man who sees it, knows that, knows its somethin’ special. Any man who sees it wants to have it, to keep it for his own. He guesses that corporate twinky back in the woods isn’t any different than anyone else. Reaching his campsite, Logan remarks that few people know that he comes there. The peace, the quiet, maybe it’ll help him remember. Yeah, he’s been around a long time. A long time… Longer… than anyone… maybe even him… could…
Drifting off to sleep, Logan thinks back to a memory. It seems real, but in his heart he knows it couldn’t… When… when was the first time he really came there? He can’t even remember… Logan then drifts off to a memory of him as a fur-trader, standing in the snow carrying a rifle, wearing a buckskin jacket and pants, and a fur pelt draped over his shoulders.
(3rd story)
Standing atop a pile of bones, one of the priests of the Grateful Undead tells his minions that the surface dwellers have been dealt with. Now, let the traitor join them as food to the god. With that, the minions toss the young woman into the pile of bones. Once she begins to sink into the bones, she is grabbed by the tentacles of the creature from beneath. As she does, fear, crushing, overwhelming fear sinks in. From an early age, she has been raised on this fear. Fear of the god that dwells beneath the Cathedral of the Dead. Now her worst childhood nightmare has become a reality. Pulled below the bones that are scattered in the Cathedral of the Dead into a primordial ooze surrounding what – a god of fear?
Also inside the ooze is Cable, leader of the mutant team known as X-Force. He allows his fear to pass through him. Ghost Rider, the Spirit of Vengeance, is also there. He has yet to encounter anything to cause fear. Neither has time for fear. There is a life, other than their own, at stake. The beast is strong. Other prey have run out of oxygen. Run out of fight. Given in to the dark and the fear. Given in and had the flesh stripped from their bones. This time, the creature is in for a surprise.
As they free themselves from the creature, Ghost Rider and Cable make their way over to the young woman. One thing they have never done is run out of fight. With the life of an innocent girl at stake, these two very different heroes discover that they have much in common. Unable to speak to one another, they know what must be done. Attack, and keep attacking. Bring the fear to the opponent. This they do as only they can. While they continue their assault, the god that dwells beneath the Cathedral of the Dead experiences fear for the first time in a millennium. It also experiences pain.
On the surface, the priest hears the gods cry. Seeing Ghost Rider emerge from the bones on his motorcycle with Cable and the young woman in tow, the priest asks what they have done. The priest gives the order to his minions to attack the outsiders but, before they can, all his acolytes begin to die.
The priest begins to ask what manner of sorcery could cause this. His answer comes from up high, where the leader of the Warriors of the Dead informs him that it was no sorcery, just death. A gift neither him nor his men are deserving of, but it is the price of failure. After killing the priest, the Ghost Rider states that a god may have died because of his witchcraft. Now is the time for vengeance. The Warriors of the Dead will track down the surface dwellers and slay them.
