TITLE: HOLLOW EARTH AUTHOR: Suzanne Bickerstaffe EMAIL ADDRESS: ecksphile@earthlink.net DISTRIBUTION: After Virtual Season 9's rights expire, anywhere is fine as long as the story is not altered, author's name is attached, and no profit is made. SPOILERS: Passing references to past cases, but nothing crucial. RATING: Maybe a PG-13 or a soft R for language and adult activities. CLASSIFICATION: X SUMMARY: Sent by Skinner on an investigation into the disappearance of three men in rural Kentucky, Mulder and Scully's best suspect would appear to be Bigfoot. But the answer to this X-File is much, much weirder than that. DISCLAIMERS: CC doesn't deserve them. What? Oh, all right... The X-Files and the characters of Mulder, Scully and Skinner belong to Fox Television, 1013 Productions, and Chris Carter -- who clearly did not know what to do with them. No copyright infringement is intended and no financial gain is being made from this story. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: Many thanks to the Inner Core, a great group of women who are giving a lot of time to bring enjoyment to others, and to MaryBeth and Ten who beta'ed relentlessly! HOLLOW EARTH Prologue Mammoth Caves National Forest Doob Creek, Kentucky Sunday 1:37 AM "Bastard!" With a none-too-clean sleeve, he wiped the blood from his nose and the cut on his cheekbone, noting with satisfaction that the bleeding seemed to be stopping. "S'om' bitch! Cain't say shit like that to Jack-Bob Smithers an' git away with it!" He thrashed his way through the woods, stumbling, falling, then lurching to his feet again. Lack of light was not the problem -- the moonlight shone down almost as bright as day. No, the problem was the record-high amount of alcohol in his system. And for Jack-Bob Smithers, that was saying a lot. He tripped over a fallen branch and sprawled headlong. "Goddamn it!" A short but frantic search through the stand of fiddleheads, and his hand touched the smooth, cool object of its quest. Triumphantly, he held the bottle up to the moonlight. Only a mouthful left, but the bottle was intact. He drained the contents and sat for a moment, catching his breath. The forest sure is quiet tonight, he thought. But after all the yellin' and screamin' in town, anything would be quiet. He chuckled. "Yep -- cain't insult ol' Jack-Bob. No, sirree!" He clenched and unclenched his right hand, the pain numbed by the corn liquor coursing its way warmly though his system. "Pro'bly broke m'damn hand agin," he mumbled. But the fact that he had broken it while beating the shit out of that smart-mouthed tourist brought some comfort. He staggered to his feet. Blearily he looked around, trying to get his bearings. "Goddamn still should be 'round here somewheres. Musta got off the trail...." Unsteadily he picked his way through the trees, intent on finding the little shack that was the center of his life. The center of his life, his business, his vocation, his avocation, his true calling. Even his detractors -- and they were legion -- were forced to admit that Jack-Bob produced the smoothest, the strongest, the most bodacious corn squeezings in the county. Maybe even the state. And it was to that shack, to refill his bottle, that the backwoods entrepreneur ventured into the forest. Not to mention that the Sheriff was also after him for that little dust-up back in town... Yep, the woods sure were quiet. A little too quiet, even with the bright moon that would naturally make the wildlife extra-careful. Nervously, he looked over his shoulder, almost toppling in the process. He thought about the two locals who had disappeared in this same area of the forest. His lips retracted in a smile which would not recommend him for Dental Hygiene poster boy, and he chuckled again. 'Course, Floyd Purdy and Junior Naismith between 'em didn't have the sense God gave a goose, he thought. Not like him. He weaved through the thick undergrowth, catching glimpses of the full moon through the trees ahead of him. His brow furrowed in concentration. Something was wrong, something just didn't set right... That was it! It was his shadow. If the moon was ahead of him, surely his shadow should be behind him, right? Any fool knew that. Then why... then why could he see his shadow, right there in front of him? The hair on the back of his neck stood up, stiff as a hound dog's hackles. Almost against his will, he turned, to the source of light behind him. His eyes bulging, they tracked upward, and his lips curled back in horror. And he began to scream... ACT ONE FBI Headquarters J Edgar Hoover Building Washington, DC Thursday 8:35 AM "Ah, good. Come in and sit down." Walter Skinner pushed back from his desk and threw his pen down with relief. At least his agents got a break from the paperwork on a regular basis. He wondered if they ever gave any thought to how mundane, how thankless and just plain boring his job was. Fox Mulder and Dana Scully took their accustomed places in the chairs in front of the massive walnut desk. At least one of them was thinking guiltily about the last expense report. Skinner opened a manila folder edged in red striping. "I have something right up your alley, Mulder." Scully sighed. They had been working non-stop lately, and she had been almost hoping that today's trip to Skinner's office was to be chewed out for an uncrossed "t" or undotted "i" in some report. Something right up Mulder's alley? Alarm bells started clanging in her head. The AD passed three photographs to her. "The unprepossessing individual in the picture is one Jack-Bob Smithers of Doob Creek, Kentucky. After being thrown out of what passes for the hottest nightspot in Doob Creek early last Sunday morning, he got into a fight and beat the hell out of some guy who looked at him the wrong way. Apparently that's Smither's usual weekend entertainment. Then he took off into the forest. Doob Creek is located within the boundaries of Mammoth Caves National Park. He hasn't been seen since." Scully shrugged and passed the photo to her partner. "I can't imagine there's anything ominous about that, sir. The guy probably knows every hiding place in the Park. And if he thought he was wanted on assault and battery or GBH charges, he'd have every incentive to lie low for a while." "Point taken, Agent. Evidently, Smithers is the kind of guy who brightens up a place by leaving it. The Sheriff's just as glad to have him out of his hair for a while. He wouldn't have reported it at all except for..." He hitched his head in the direction of the other photographs in her lap. She picked them up and scanned them. "Billy 'Junior' Naismith and Floyd Purdy," he continued. "Two more of the town's least popular residents. They disappeared in the same 'neck o' the woods' a little over three weeks ago." Mulder took the photos offered by his partner and winced. "What an advertisement for planned parenthood." He put them down and looked at his boss quizzically. "I don't understand why this is 'right up my alley', as you say, sir. Either they're hiding out, they've found another town to blight, or maybe someone finally had enough of their antics and saw to it that they'd never bully the other kids in the schoolyard again. A crime, yeah" -- he looked at the photos again -- "well, technically anyway. But right up my alley?" "I've been saving the best part for last." Skinner handed over a sheaf of papers, and after another long look at his boss, Mulder began to read them. A few minutes passed while he digested the contents, then he gave them wordlessly to his partner. Both men waited for the explosion, which was not long in coming. "Oh, sir, you've got to be kidding! Bigfoot? Give me a break!" Scully rolled her eyes. "Sir, Mulder's right, this is nothing more than what it appears to be. A bunch of ne'er-do-wells who either wore out their welcome and moved on, or finally pissed off the wrong person once too often. This is a wild goose chase, and Mulder and I are exhausted!" Skinner pushed his glasses back on the bridge of his nose. "I know, Agent Scully, and I sympathize. In a way, that's why I'm giving you this assignment." "Because no good deed goes unpunished?" she suggested sourly. Beside her, Mulder chuckled. Skinner smiled. "No. Look, we all know this case is probably a pile of crap. But there are always people looking over my shoulder, as I'm sure you'll agree. If I let a case that looks like an X-File go uninvestigated, sooner or later it will be used against us. This way, you go down there, you check it out, and your butts will be back on a plane in time to have you home before rush hour tomorrow. Then you'll have your whole weekend ahead of you." Scully looked doubtful. "A little luck with the connections and we might even be home in time for lunch, " Mulder said, smiling. "Come on - another little trip to the forest. What could go wrong?" She shot him a withering glance. "Don't get me started." "Here." Skinner passed a portfolio to her. It contained plane tickets and maps -- lots of maps. She looked up at him. "Doob Creek is a little... remote," he said, not meeting her eyes. It was at that point she gave up on any plans for the weekend. * * * * "A little remote. Skinner's a dead man," she muttered. It had been her mantra for the last hour and a half. The trip from Dulles to St. Louis had not been bad. But the tiny commuter plane from St. Louis to Bowling Green was another matter entirely. Never mind that it had no restroom. Never mind that even the diminutive Scully couldn't stand upright in it. No, the real problem was the terrifying hour that it spent, bouncing like flubber off the storm clouds. Her hands still ached from gripping the arm rests. Then, once on the ground, the maps had proven less than helpful, thanks to flash flooding from the now-passed storm and some long, circuitous detours caused by construction. Mulder noticed a sign by the side of the road. 'Doob Creek,' it announced, 'Home of the World Famous Mammoth Caves'. Beneath, in newer paint, was inscribed 'Home of Bigfoot'. "Cheer up, Scully. I do believe we're entering Doob Creek." "And only three hours late," she grumped. He scanned the street for the Sheriff's Office. "Well, admittedly getting home by lunch tomorrow isn't looking good. But with a little luck, we'll finish up here tonight, have a good night's sleep, and be back in our own beds tomorrow... What's all this?" She roused herself to look out the window at the almost carnival atmosphere in the street. "I don't know... Mulder, stop! There's the Sheriff's Office." They got out of the car and stretched gratefully. A tall, broad-shouldered young man wearing a uniform approached them. "Agent Mulder? I'm Sheriff John Finn. Folks 'round here just call me Big John." They shook hands, and Mulder introduced Scully. "Come on into the office outta all... this," he said with a sweep of his hand. "Y'all look like you could use some coffee." They hesitated before following him, taking in the street scene. The sidewalk was covered in card tables and lengths of plywood set on sawhorses. It looked like a giant flea market. And on the tables... "Come an' git your Bigfoot T-shirts! All sizes for everyone in the family!" "Right here! Git a gen-oo-ine Bigfoot photograph!" Mulder strolled to a table and held a T-shirt against his chest - 'I Survived the Attack of Bigfoot, Doob Creek, Kentucky, Spring, 2002.' "What do you think, Scully? Is it 'me'?" "No, thank you." Scully declined the ceramic Bigfoot vase being pressed on her by the persistent artisan. "I don't know, Mulder. It might clash with your Marvin the Martian" -- she glanced around the crowded sidewalk -- "accessories." He grinned and put the shirt down, much to the disappointment of the vendor. Then they went into the quiet of Finn's office. "What's going on here, Sheriff?" she asked. "Call me Big John." "Big John from Harvard University, it would appear like," Mulder observed, pointing to a framed diploma on the wall. The Sheriff handed them mugs of coffee and gestured to the cream and sweetener. "I was born and brought up right here in Doob Creek. Could hardly wait to get the hell outta here. But six years up north - I stuck around to get my Master's in Criminal Justice - and I found to my shock I was homesick. So I came back. Have a seat." Mulder took a chair and smiled. "That's a lot of educational firepower for a town like this." The Sheriff returned his grin self-consciously. He was handsome in a baby-faced sort of way, Scully noted, and towered a good five inches above Mulder. "Well, I guess that's so. I was recruited by the Bureau, did you know that? But I'd had enough of big cities. This is where I belong." "So what's going on in town?" Scully repeated. He laughed. "There's not too much that goes on here usually. Some tourists, mostly in summer. The bar fights every Saturday night, the occasional church socials. So when somethin' out of the ordinary happens, well, folks here take advantage of it." "So, have there been sightings of this 'Bigfoot' creature?" Mulder pressed. "You could say that," he nodded agreeably. "There's somethin' in those woods. Of course there's been stories for years that go back to when Doob Creek was first settled. I was brought up on 'em. But I always figured they were just moonshine-inspired fairy tales. That was, until I saw the damn thing myself." Scully's eyebrows shot up. "What exactly did you see?" "We were out in the forest, lookin' for the first two men who went missin'. All of a sudden, it got real quiet - no birdsong, nothin'. And a ways away, I saw something big, walkin' on two legs. Kinda looked like a man, from the glimpse I got. 'Cept he was near to ten feet tall." She was far from convinced. "How far away were you?" He shook his head. "Too far. But others have seen it recently too. A couple of hunters got the shit scared outta 'em - oh, sorry, ma'am. Said they saw him through the trees one night. Described him as bein' big, but not all hairy and shaggy like you see in those pictures they're sellin' out there. And they said... they said he, like... glowed." "Glowed," echoed Mulder thoughtfully. He was toying with his bottom lip in a way Scully had come to associate with his announcement of some of his wilder theories. "Sheriff, do you think whatever people are seeing is responsible for the disappearance of those three men?" He shrugged. "I don't know. To be honest, I don't much care, and y'all won't hear anything different from anyone in this town. Those boys were bullies and troublemakers, have been since they could stand upright. Just mean, nasty men with a likin' for alcohol and beatin' up on folks smaller and weaker than them. I'm an officer of the law, and I should care what happened to 'em, if a crime's been committed. But I've had a skinful of their shenanigans over the years, and the town's better off without 'em." "Perhaps you could give us a list of the names and addresses of their families, Sheriff," Scully suggested. "And point us in the direction of a motel," Mulder added. "I got everything you need right here - names, addresses, a map of the town, and another of the area where they disappeared. As for motels, most of our tourists just kinda pass through. There's just one place, called the Cave Inn. It's not much, but it's clean, and I reserved y'all a couple of cabins." Mulder stood and shook hands. "Thank you, Sheriff. We'll check in with you later." With the comfortable pressure of Mulder's hand at the small of her back, Scully led the way out into the street. "You're too quiet," observed Scully. "Don't tell me you're buying in to this Bigfoot thing." Enigmatically, he smiled as he held her car door open. "Not at all." Thank God for that, she mused. The happy thought lasted only as long as it took him to get into the car and start the engine. "I think they have altogether the wrong creature in mind." * * * * They drove to the first address on the list, a shabbily genteel old Victorian home. An elderly lady, petite even by Scully's standards, answered the door. "Y'all must be the folks Big John called about. Come right on in and have a seat in the parlor." The 'parlor' was like a room from the set of a movie. Horsehair-stuffed sofas and chairs were dotted with fine lace doilies, probably handmade by the lady herself. The darkly ornate pattern of the upholstery was repeated in the heavy draperies, tied back with tasseled cords. Little tables were everywhere, covered with fringe-shaded lamps and dozens of silver-framed photographs dating back to the turn of the century. Curio cabinets filled with mementos vied for the little remaining space. Emma Purdy approached from the hallway with a heavily-laden tray. Mulder leapt up, took it from her hands and carried it to the one empty table in front of the sofa. "Why, thank you, young man. Now please have a seat and help yourself. That's fresh-squeezed lemonade and some pecan cookies that just came out of the oven." "You really shouldn't have gone to all this bother," said Scully. "Nonsense! It's nice to have callers. Now -- how can I help you?" "We're looking into the disappearance of your nephew and two other men," began Mulder. "Well, honey, if I were you, I'd see the sights in town and then just go on back to Washington. You won't find 'em, and everybody'd be a whole lot happier if you didn't." "Forgive me, but I find the lack of interest in finding these men rather puzzling," Scully commented. "Floyd Purdy is your nephew, is he not?" "Yes, he's kin - my great nephew, to be exact. That doesn't take away from the fact that he was a trial to this town and his family his whole life," Miss Purdy said, without rancor. "The first few times he got into trouble, I stood by him, even paid his bail. And lost it, when he lit out of town. Unfortunately, the law would always find him and bring him back. But I got so I just couldn't stomach his behavior any more. The only peace I had was when he was in jail. Finally, he stole from me -- took my grandmother's silver and sold it. Spent the money on whores and liquor. That was the last straw." "Did he ever hit you?" Mulder asked gently. To his surprise, she emitted a dry cackle. "Hit me? Hell, no! Floyd's dumb as a stump, but he has more sense than to raise a hand to me. I may look like a defenseless old lady, but I'm a tough old bird. I can take care of myself." "I wouldn't doubt it for an instant," he replied, amused. "How long has it been since you've seen him?" his partner asked. "I threw him out of the house and got a restraining order two years ago. He hasn't lived here since. I've seen him around town, of course, right up to the day before he disappeared. But I haven't had any contact with him since I threw him out." "He never came back, threatened you?" she inquired. "Well, now you mention it, just once, about a year ago. He wasn't threatenin' - he just came to ask for money. But I called Big John as soon as I saw Floyd coming up the walk, and John dragged him out of here. Must have given him a good talking to -- or worse -- because he never tried that stunt again." They got up to leave. "Thank you, Miss Purdy," said Mulder. "If we think of anything else, we'll be in touch. And thanks for the lemonade. I haven't tasted anything that good since I was a kid at my grandmother's house." Her cheeks flushed with pleasure. "Thank you, Mr. Mulder. You're a nice, polite boy. I'll bet your parents are real proud of you." His eyes darkened for a second, so quickly and so subtly that only Scully could have noticed. "Yes, ma'am," was all he said. "You okay?" she asked when they returned to the car. His lips twitched in a self-deprecating smile. "Yeah. It just stings a bit when I'm not expecting it. Besides, my mind is too involved with other things at the moment to waste much time on old baggage." Her eyebrow arched. "What things?" "Oh... you, for instance." He glanced over at her, then returned his eyes to the road ahead. She squeezed his free hand. "Lovely sentiment, Mulder. But I know you too well. What else?" "Just a theory, and a glimmer of a plan. We'll talk over dinner." Next on their list was the wife of Billy 'Junior' Naismith. They pulled into the Sans Souci Trailer Park and after some confusion with the layout of the units, eventually found Mrs. Naismith's mobile home. An extraordinary woman in her late forties answered their ring. Give Tammy Faye Bakker a sixty-inch bustline and a Dolly Parton wig... "Mrs. Naismith?" Mulder choked out. "Call me Glory Bee," she said heartily. "Everyone does." Scully's eyes widened as Mulder entered and she got a good look at the woman for the first time. She could well imagine most males uttering 'Glory be!' when they saw her. The woman stood beside Mulder, who was scanning the photographs on her walls avidly. "Yep, that's me, a few years ago. I used to be a headliner, you know. Never made it up north, but there isn't a strip club south of the Mason-Dixon that I haven't danced in. You like the pictures?" "They're... er... remarkable," Mulder said. "You wouldn't have a spare that you could autograph, would you? I have a friend..." "Sure, honey, I got a stack of 'em. Now what's your 'friend's' name?" she asked archly, pulling a pen and a photograph from a drawer. "Melvin." "Mulder!" Scully whispered fiercely. "It's okay, sweetie. Just mixin' a little pleasure with business. Nothin' wrong with that. Now you give this to 'Melvin' with my best wishes, you hear? Come on in and set yourselves down in the kitchen. The living room's a mess." When they were settled, she lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply and with evident pleasure. "I suppose you're here about Junior. You didn't find his body by any chance, did you?" "So far there's been no evidence of foul play, other than the fact that he's missing," Scully said carefully. "Do you have reason to think that he's dead?" "Shit, I'm *hoping* he's dead!" Mulder smiled. "In that case, we're sorry to raise your hopes falsely. Why do you feel that way?" "Because the man's a boil on the butt-end of humanity, that's why. Lived off my money, took up with other women. When he wasn't too hammered to move, that is. Beat me up a couple times, put me in the hospital." "Why didn't you divorce him?" Although Scully asked the question, the woman's attention was completely on Mulder, and her response was to him. She inhaled and blew out a cloud of smoke. "For one thing, he threatened to kill me. Now between you and me, I doubt he'da had the balls to do that. But he also said that these days, men could git alimony from their ex-wives, and git half of whatever they had. I have a little nest egg squirreled away that he could never manage to git his hands on. If I'da divorced him, he said he would git half of it. That true?" "We're not attorneys, ma'am," replied Mulder. "I don't know if Kentucky is a community property state or not, but if it is, then yes, it's possible." "When's the last time you saw your husband, Mrs. Naismith?" Scully asked tersely. The sooner they finished this investigation, the sooner they could go back home. Once again, it was as if Glory Bee didn't even know Scully was in the room. "The day he left to go huntin'," she told Mulder. "It's illegal to hunt in the forest, 'cause it's a national park and all, but that wouldn't stop Junior and Floyd. Nor the fact it's not huntin' season anyway. But I 'spect the only huntin' goin' on was for Jack-Bob's still." "Moonshine?" "Sure 'nuff, honey. The man sopped it up like a dishrag." Mulder looked at the woman appraisingly. "What do you think happened to him?" "I'm hopin' Bigfoot stomped him into the ground. But it's more likely he and Floyd had a fallin' out, or Jack-Bob killed 'em for tryin' to steal from his still." Scully rose. "Thank you, Mrs. Naismith. We'll be in touch." She led the way out. Behind her, Glory Bee linked her arm in Mulder's. "Now if your friend likes that photo, you tell him to write me. A friend of yours is a friend of mine." "I'll be sure to tell him," Mulder assured her. Scully's eyes rolled, but she held her tongue until they were in the car and driving away. "Amazing woman," her partner said mildly. She snorted. "What's amazing is that the woman can stand upright." "Jealous, Scully?" "Jeal--!" He chuckled. "Relax. I was only kidding. I prefer my women redheaded, petite and less... well, less." "'Your *women*'?" "My only woman." He glanced over to see her expression soften. "But she might be a good match for Frohike." Scully burst out laughing. "He'd think he'd died and gone to heaven." "Come on. What do you say we get some barbecue and take it back to the motel?" "You're on." * * * * While not adjoining, their cabins were next to each other at the end of the row, surrounded by tall conifers. Sheriff Finn had been right. The Cave Inn would never make Conde Nast's Ten Best list, but the cabins were immaculate and comfortably, if shabbily, furnished. They included a tiny kitchenette. Both cabins would be used, as was their habit lately when on the road. But there was a fair chance that only one would be slept in. Mulder stood in the middle of Scully's cabin, his arms outstretched. "All the comforts of home." "*Your* home, maybe," she replied, but her eyes twinkled with good humor. She wrapped her arms around him. "Mmmm, this feels good." They kissed with the same sense of coming home they always felt, locked in each other's arms. Eventually, Scully stepped away reluctantly. "Food's getting cold," she murmured. "And everyone knows, Bigfoot Bar-B-Cue and Sasquatch Fries are no good cold," he agreed. They got out plates and utensils and began to eat. "So what's your theory, Mulder?" Chewing, he shook his head. "Too early to say. The "glowing" thing twigged something in my memory, but I just can't bring it into focus. But I'll bet you have a theory. And I'll bet it has nothing to do with Bigfoot." "Damned right I have a theory. And actually, it does have something to do with Bigfoot." "Scully!" he exclaimed, grinning. "Don't tell me you've finally seen the light!" She chuckled. "Not exactly. I think those men are dead, Mulder. And I think everyone we've talked to today - including Sheriff Finn - either knows about it or were active participants in the killings." "Even sweet little old Miss Purdy?" "I don't suppose you noticed the gunrack in her hallway." "With the three very fine expensive shotguns? Of course I did. I even took a sniff at them when I took the tray from her. They didn't smell like they had been fired recently." "And she wouldn't know how to clean a gun?" He made a motion in the air, giving her the point. "I'll bet she was a crack shot in her day, too. But where's your evidence? And what's the Bigfoot connection?" "Well, I don't have anything that isn't circumstantial," she admitted. "But you have three men, despised by everyone in town, including their nearest and dearest. Their relatives have every reason to want them gone permanently, as does the Sheriff. And look at the town! With this revival of the Bigfoot myth, this town is having an economic renaissance. Tourist season is just getting underway, and bound to be better than all expectations because of the Bigfoot business, and that's going to mean a lot of dollars flooding in. So everyone benefits." He dabbed at his mouth with a paper napkin. "Well, I can't say that that doesn't make a hell of a lot of sense. Except for one thing. If people in this town were involved in the disappearances, with the knowledge or active participation of the Sheriff, they would be home free. No one would be any the wiser and everyone would be happy. So why contact the Bureau? Why open themselves up to that risk of being found out? Unless he has one hell of an ego and wants to see if he can put one over on us, I can't see Sheriff Finn calling in the FBI if the town were trying to get away with murder." "I can't see the incentive, that's true," she admitted. "I don't know, Mulder, maybe Finn is trying to prove something. Or... or maybe he knows who did it, but doesn't want to have to bring them to justice himself because of his fondness for them, so he called us in to do the dirty work." "Maybe..." From the far-off look in her partner's eyes, Scully knew he wasn't really listening. "Mulder?" "Oh. Sorry. Hey, Scully, how tired are you?" She smiled and her heart beat faster. She got up from her side of the table and slipped into his lap, her arms around his neck. "Not so tired we can't engage in some nice bonding activity," she said in a low, throaty whisper. He stroked her hair and murmured softly, "I'm so glad you feel the same way I do. I'm sure Sheriff Finn can lend us a couple of sleeping bags." Abruptly, she pulled back to look him in the eyes. "Sleeping bags?" "Of course. If we're going to spend the night in the forest watching for 'Bigfoot', we're going to need them!" ACT TWO Millie's Diner Doob Creek, Kentucky Friday morning 7:35 AM She sat alone for the moment at the formica table. Scully propped up her head with one hand and clutched her coffee cup in the other, her eyes nearly closed in weariness. But all things considered, the experience had not been as bad as she had feared. They had changed into their 'forest' gear and received not only sleeping bags, but a tent, lantern, thermos of coffee and directions from Sheriff Finn. Entering the Mammoth Caves National Park by the back trail Finn specified, they left the car and followed the path to the fork, easily finding the secondary path to the general area where 'Bigfoot' had been sighted and the men disappeared. For hours they watched the forest from the shelter of the tent, noting nothing but the sounds of wildlife and the hypnotic, susurrous breeze through the treetops. Whether it was the peaceful setting, the clement weather, or the presence of sleeping bags on this trip to the woods, Mulder indeed 'got lucky'. So did I, Scully thought with a smile. And of course, there were the footprints. On arising shortly after dawn, they packed away the gear and began the hike out of the Park. With the daylight in their favor, they kept their eyes on the ground, looking for anything that might explain the disappearance of the missing men. Suddenly, Mulder stopped, whistling low in amazement. "Scully. Take a look at this." On a patch of muddy ground left by the previous day's storm were two footprints, made by what looked like sandals or moccasins. Size 26 sandals or moccasins... Trip to the restroom completed, Mulder rejoined his partner. The waitress set down their breakfasts -- the Bigfoot Biggie for him, grits and fruit salad for her -- and refilled their coffee cups. "What's our next move, Scully?" "I propose we go by the Sheriff's office, return the camping gear and report the footprints, grab a few hours sleep at the motel and go home." He put down his fork. "But what about--" "The footprints are intriguing, Mulder, I'll admit it. But we're here to investigate the disappearances of those men, and we saw no signs of violence, no clues to follow, nothing. Maybe they were murdered and we've been cleverly misdirected. Maybe they simply moved on to someplace else. But either way, it's a non-case, at least for us. Those footprints might have been manufactured, for all we know, by some of the townspeople who have every reason to profit by our finding them." She spooned in a mouthful of grits. "If they were faked, they're damn good fakes, Scully, you have to admit. They were the right depth and the right distance apart to indicate a nine-and-a-half foot tall, 400 pound biped, probably human." Her eyebrow arched. "And Sheriff Finn doesn't have the brains and training to manufacture a set of prints like that?" He waggled his head in concession to her point. "And unless Bigfoot has taken to footwear..." "I told you, Scully, I don't think Bigfoot is the issue here. I think--" He was interrupted by the trill of his cellphone. It was Skinner. Quickly, Mulder briefed the AD on their progress, or lack thereof, thus far. "I just got a report across my desk and need you to break off your investigation there. Especially if you're at a standstill anyway." "What is it, sir?" He looked meaningfully at Scully and her eyes rolled. Somehow, going home didn't seem likely. "Two men are missing in Lassen Peak Volcanic National Park from the nearby town of Manzanita Lake, California." "California," Mulder repeated for his partner's benefit. With a sigh, Scully signaled the waitress for more coffee. "Yes. There are certain similarities to the case you're currently working on. The two men involved are not exactly the town's most upstanding citizens, and there have been unsubstantiated reports of a huge 'man-beast' in the National Park. Also..." "Yes, sir?" "The huge man-like creature? He had something with him..." Mulder waited for what Skinner was obviously having a hard time delivering. "It was... well, it was described as a huge furry elephant." Mulder leaned back in the booth, thinking furiously. "Agent Mulder, are you there? You'd better not be laughing..." "No. I mean, yes I'm here and no, I'm not laughing. When do we have to be there?" "Today. I have tickets waiting at Bowling Green airport. A short hop to Cincinnati, then to San Francisco, and change there for Redding. You'll take a rental car from Redding." "Sounds like it's a bit--" "Remote. Yes. Tell Agent Scully I'm sorry. I guess this is why you agents are paid the big bucks." Yeah, right, Mulder thought. "She's right here, sir, you can tell her that yourself." "Discretion is the better part of valor, Agent Mulder. And in this case, delegation. I delegate you to brief her on what I've told you." He could hear the amusement in his superior's voice. "In that case, you owe me one. We'll call you from there." Mulder pushed the button to end the connection. "We're not going home, are we?" He shook his head. "Manzanita Lake, California. More disappearances of unpopular people, more sightings of a big man-like creature. And this time," Mulder said, eyes twinkling, "he brought his pet." "Pet?" He grinned. "I'll brief you on the way." * * * * Manzanita Lake, CA Friday evening More miles later than she wanted to think about, a very rumpled and tired Dana Scully emerged from the rental car parked in front of the small combined police-and-fire station. Mulder, no less rumpled but in a decidedly more receptive frame of mind, joined her on the sidewalk and together they entered the building. "We're here to see Captain Lopez," she announced to the sergeant at the desk. "You from the Bureau? He's expecting you. I'll show you to his office." Michael Lopez's dark face was warmed by a broad, welcoming smile. "Jerry, some coffee, please. Our guests look like they could use it." To them, he said, "Please, sit down. I appreciate your coming all the way out here. We're not an easy commute." "Amen," Scully muttered under her breath. Mulder shot her a sympathetic glance, then got down to business. "What can you tell us about the disappearances?" Lopez handed him two files. "Julio Esposito and Frank Crane. Both with long records that go back to juvie. Mostly assault and battery, burglary, car theft. Nothing to make the Ten Most Wanted List, but royal pains in the ass nonetheless. They've both done prison time, but always end up coming back here. Esposito has a temper, especially when he's been drinking. Beats his girlfriend up regularly, but she won't press charges against him, so our hands are tied. Crane is, if anything, worse. Unfortunately, he's been arrested a lot more than he's been convicted. We suspect that lately he's into drug running, but don't have enough evidence to go after him... yet." "So the town doesn't really miss them," Scully concluded. "Bingo. Anyway, Crane disappeared about two weeks ago. We thought he either cleared out, or ran afoul of some of his 'well-connected' friends over drugs. Last anyone knew, he went up to the Park. We even followed him most of the way, convinced a deal was going down. Unfortunately, we lost him when it got dark." Lopez shrugged. "Best laid plans. Anyway, no one's seen or heard from him since. Esposito disappeared three days ago, after telling his girlfriend he was going into the Park with some friends. All his friends are accounted for, though, deny any plans to go into the Park, and seem to have alibis for the time in question." "Is there any other explanation for these disappearances?" Mulder probed. The police captain shook his head. "I dunno. It's rough country. Even I wouldn't attempt it in winter. But this time of year? They might have gotten lost, of course, but the area's been pretty thoroughly combed. If they weren't found, it's either because they weren't there, or they didn't want to be found. Or..." "Or they were in no condition to be able to yell out to the searchers?" suggested Scully. Lopez nodded. "What's this about a Man-Beast?" Mulder asked, his expression bland. "You got me," Lopez replied. "There's been tales here for over a hundred years about the Man-Beast. I always thought it was a load of crap. Lately, though... Well, we have a park ranger, Connie Crowley, who reported seeing it when she was out searching for the missing men. Connie's not the type to start trouble or see things that aren't there. She's the one that saw the elephant, too. If Connie said she saw it, I'd bet my pension that she did." Something was bothering Scully. "We've been working on a case in Kentucky that bears certain similarities to this one," she said. "In that case, the town was capitalizing on the disappearances, tying it in with the local Bigfoot legend." Lopez snorted in disgust. "You won't find that here," he said firmly. "We like it quiet. Truth is, a few years ago some tourists said they saw a UFO over the Park. Shot off their mouths to the press and we were inundated. Reporters, photographers, UFO crazies... Finally one of the people who originally reported the UFO admitted they hadn't seen anything more than some funny light in the woods. Could have been anything, from swamp gas to someone else with a flashlight. Anyway, the press turned on the town, not that anyone from here had anything to do with it, and it got real nasty. Made us out to be fools at best, and money- grubbing opportunists at worst. Since then, we've downplayed any of the stories about weird things going on in the Park. We don't need that mess again." He fixed the agents in his glare, his meaning clear. Mulder looked over to his partner, then back to the captain. "Okay - we'll need to talk to the park ranger, Esposito's girlfriend, and Crane's friends. And we'll need the name of a motel." "It's getting late to drive up to the Park. Best time to get Connie would probably be when she goes on duty tomorrow morning. Esposito's girlfriend - now that's gonna be a problem. She took the opportunity to get out of town after Julio went missing. I can put out an APB, but I interviewed her myself after the disappearance. She was at work immediately before and after the last time he was seen. I believe she's in the clear. And in case the son of a bitch does comes back, I figured she was better off back with her family in L.A." Mulder shook his head. "If it becomes necessary, we'll have someone track her down there." "Fine. I interviewed Crane's friends, too, and they were dead ends - in more ways than one," Lopez said, grinning. But you're welcome to take another shot at them. Now... a motel. We don't have one." He handed Mulder a set of keys. "Those are to my cabin, up near the entrance to the Park. It's not the Ritz, but it's got a septic system, running water and oil lamps. There's a double bed downstairs, and another in the loft. You'll have to bring in your own food, though. I live here in town and haven't had much opportunity to get away from the job and use it lately." Mulder stood. "We appreciate it, Captain Lopez." "No, you're doing me a favor. The sooner we can put all this behind us, the better. I've written out directions to the cabin. You might want to get some supplies and get up there while it's still light. After dark, you'll never find it." * * They grabbed the bare necessities at a Mom and Pop grocery, with 'Mom's' fingers drumming impatiently on the counter. They were just out the door when the "Open" sign was whipped around to say "Closed" and the deadbolt slid into place. The sun was setting as the car rolled to a stop outside a rustic cabin. "Scully? We're here," Mulder called gently. His sense of guilt rose unbidden to the surface. She looked exhausted, dark semi-circles under her eyes like bruises on her pale skin. "Mm?" Her eyes fluttered open. "Is this it?" "Be it ever so humble. Here." He handed her a set of keys. "Why don't you go on in and sit while I bring in the food and our bags." She smiled, or attempted to. "Normally I'd take offense, Mulder. But tonight I'm too damn tired to worry about your being over-solicitous." With a groan, she pulled herself from the car and trudged up the piney path to the cabin. She was pulling the covers back from the double bed when he completed the last of the trips to the car. "What do you feel like eating? I'll cook," he offered. She began unbuttoning her jacket. "To be honest, nothing. I'm too tired to eat, I just want to get some sleep." She finished undressing, and pulled one of his T- shirts over her head. Mulder held open the covers as she slid in, and he tucked the edges under the mattress. "Comfy?" She smiled, putting out a hand to brush an errant lock of his hair into place. "Not bad. Though I think I could sleep on the photocopier in the middle of the bullpen right now. You going to be up late?" "Not if I can help it. Food, then I want to do a little research. I'll make extra, in case you wake up hungry later." Bending, he kissed her. She was asleep before the warmth of his lips dissipated from hers. Mulder stayed by the bedside, watching her in the serenity of her sleep, and once more counting his blessings. Finally, he went to the kitchen, heated up the canned stew and mixed the contents of the Caesar salad 'kit'. Taking a serving of each, he went to the small utility table and fired up his laptop. * * She didn't know what awakened her, but the door to the cabin was swinging open and she could hear the sounds of someone thrashing through the forest. As she expected, her partner was gone. "Shit!" Scully leapt out of bed, frantically rummaging through her overnight bag and pulling on the first pair of pants she found, then her sneakers. Pausing only to snatch up her weapon, she dashed through the door. "Mulder!" There was an indistinct yell in reply. She began running in the general direction of the sound. "Mulder!" A thousand thoughts buzzed through her mind, not the least of which being that she and her partner were going to have another long talk on the subject of ditching and running headlong into dangerous situations. "Over here, Scully. Argh--!" She pushed branches out of her face and tried not to think about the snakes that could be slumbering among the very rocks and stumps she now stumbled over. "Mulder, I'm coming! Keep yelling!" she called. Though nearer, his voice seemed weaker. "Here, Scully!" She stopped for a moment to get her bearings. "Are you all right? Where are you?" "Go more to your right, then straight. Maybe fifty yards. And no... not exactly." She threaded her way around thickets and fallen trees, moving as quickly as she dared. Though the bright moonlight was some help, the ground was uneven and treacherous. "What do you mean, 'not exactly'?" He caught sight of the movement of bushes and branches. "Here, Scully." He was on the ground, more or less sitting. "What in hell is going on, Mulder?" She looked around the area before holstering her weapon. Then she knelt on the ground next to him. "All right, where does it hurt?" "My ankle. No, the right one. Yes, that's-- Shit!" He grimaced, his breath a long harsh hiss of pain. She prodded gently. "Did you hear it snap?" "No, I think it's just a sprain. Hurts like hell though. I caught it between two tree roots as I was running." She sat back on her heels, her face pulled into a concerned frown. "It's swelling fast. Do you think you can make it back to the cabin? Assuming we can find it, of course." "Do I have a choice?" "Well, you could stay here while I go back to the cabin and call on the cellphone for a rescue party." Mulder considered it, but for less than a second. "I'd just as soon skip that kind of humiliation. If I can lean on you, I'll be okay." He was a lot less sure of that once he was standing. If he thought his ankle hurt when he was down, the focus of sheer agony when he stood left him breathless, nauseous and dizzy. His partner steadied him. "I don't think this is a very good idea, Mulder." "No, I can make it." "Well, all right, just don't put any weight on it." "That was my last thought, believe me." Much as Scully wanted to know what exactly made her partner go charging through heavy forest in the dark, it would have to wait. It required all of his strength and hers to get him back to the cabin. Unsure of the way, several times she helped him to sit, or lean against a tree trunk while she scouted ahead, looking for familiar landmarks or broken branches that signaled their way in. Finally, when both were breathless and sweating despite the chill of the night, they found the cabin. Scully got Mulder to the bed, then went out to the car for her medical bag. When she returned, she shut the door behind her, turning the deadbolt. Mulder had peeled off his shirt and unzipped his pants. He laid back on the bed and she swung his legs up. Quickly she stripped the shoe and sock from his good foot and pulled his pants down below his knees. "It's going to hurt, getting that shoe off." "I know," he said grimly, bracing himself. Scully took out the shoelace and as gently as she could, eased the shoe from his rapidly swelling foot. Mulder clutched the sheets and turned a whiter shade of pale, but made no sound. The sock, already skin tight above the ankle, she simply cut off. The pants were disposed of next. She lit another oil lamp and brought it closer to the bed. "Well, you've done a bang-up job of it this time, Mulder. It's a very severe sprain, and I can't guarantee that you haven't managed to do some tendon and ligament damage on top of it. What the hell did you think you were doing?" "I *thought* I was pursuing a clue!" he shot back testily. Then he sighed. "I'm sorry, Scully. You have every right to be annoyed with me. I'm always acting without thinking. But you should have seen it!" "Well, why don't you tell me about it while I work on your ankle." She propped his lower leg on several pillows, then dug around in her bag, retrieving a couple of ace bandages and a chemical cold pack. "I was working at the computer. It had gotten dark and I didn't light any lamps because I didn't want to disturb you." He looked at her hopefully, trying to judge if his thoughtfulness scored any points, but her expression revealed only her concentration on her work. "Anyway, I saw a source of light coming from outside. At first I thought it might be Sheriff Lopez, driving up to give us an update. But I didn't hear a car engine, and the light wasn't bright or focused enough to be headlights. So I looked out, and -- Scully, it was incredible! It was a man... or a man- like biped -- emitting this eerie glow. And he had to be nine feet tall, at least! Tell you what, why don't you take one of the oil lamps and check around the cabin for footprints?" "Tell you what, Mulder. Why don't we wait for morning and I might let you live." She taped the ace bandage into place and expertly cracked the vial inside the chemical pouch, shaking it until the contents were cold. "How does that feel?" He made an 'iffy' motion with his hand. "Feels better being off it and having it stuck up in the air, that's for sure." "You need to get to an Emergency Room." "Not tonight, Scully. We don't know our way around, or even if there's a hospital in town. It can wait until morning. Besides, you're exhausted." "I won't deny that." She slipped off her sneakers and pants, and joined her partner in bed. She was almost asleep, when... "Scully?" "Mmm?" "I'm sorry. I did it again, didn't I? Went running off after something without thinking." Her hand edged across his chest, stroking, soothing. "'S all right, Mulder. I love you." "I love you, too." "I know." * * * ACT THREE Manzanita Lake, CA Saturday 8 A.M. There was no hospital in town, but Captain Lopez directed them to a very well-equipped family practice office. By necessity, Dr. Cote had become a jack-of- all-medical-specialties in the small town. In a fraction of the usual time spent in a big city ER, Mulder was x-rayed and diagnosed with a severe ankle sprain. It was taped and braced and he was issued crutches. Dr. Cote, a dead ringer for Marcus Welby, gave Mulder a prescription for Tylenol #2. "Now stay off it. No weight bearing on that leg at all, and the more time you can spend with it elevated the better, to keep down the swelling. Loosen the brace if it gets too tight from the swelling. When you get back to the city, I'd have that ankle CT scanned. There may be something I missed and with your profession, you can't afford to have a permanent problem." They thanked the doctor and made their way out to the car. "What now?" Scully asked as they settled in. "Well, the good news is that you get to drive for the next few weeks." She smiled and squeezed his hand. "I know that. I meant about the case." "Carry on, I guess. You didn't happen to notice any footprints this morning outside the cabin, did you?" His tone was hopeful. She shook her head. "Too many spruce and pine needles on the ground to take a print." He sighed. "I was afraid of that. Okay, I guess we should drive up to the ranger station and look for Connie Crowley. Unless you want to go back to the cabin and try to get a nap in. You really look beat, Scully." "I am. But let's talk to the park ranger and see how much we learn from her." "That's my Scully." His voice was warm, his admiration clear in his tone. Just as she started the engine, Mulder's cell phone rang. They exchanged expressions that said that whatever the reason for the phone call, it couldn't be good. "Mulder." "This is AD Skinner. What are you doing right now?" He mouthed "Skinner" for his partner's benefit, then said "We were just about to interview an eyewitness. Why?" "I need one of you back in Doob Creek as soon as you can get there. It seems one of the missing men was returned." Mulder's eyebrows shot up, the AD's wording not lost on him. "*Was* returned. By whom?" "That's why I need one of you there. The guy's story is... frankly, it's bizarre. Sheriff Finn doesn't know what to make of it." "Don't tell me it was Bigfoot after all?" "Weirder than that." Mulder looked at his watch. "At this point, with the time zones and all, it's not going to be until tonight." "I know. And so does Sheriff Finn. He'll be waiting." Mulder glanced over at Scully. By this time, his partner had a pretty good idea of the subject of the conversation. Her arms were crossed on the steering wheel, her head resting on them. He swung into 'protective mode'. "Look, it's ridiculous to spend eight hours traveling back there. I don't suppose we could do this by phone and save the government some money." "I'm afraid not. I need you there to assess the situation. I'll see that you both get some comp time when you finish the case." Yeah, right. Unless there was another case waiting in the wings by then, Mulder thought sourly. "All right. One of us will be there tonight." Viciously he stabbed the 'off' button. "Let me guess. We have to go back to Kentucky." "One of us does. One of the missing men has been returned and evidently has a story to tell. I'll do it, Scully. I know how all the travel wears you out, and--" His partner was incredulous. "Mulder! Reality orientation time! On crutches, you'll never make the connections at the airports." He grinned back impudently. "I'll get one of those cart thingies they chauffeur the old ladies around in." "You can't keep your foot elevated on the plane." "Maybe there'll be an empty seat I can rest it on. Or maybe I can charm my way into First Class. There's more room in there." She went on as if she hadn't heard him. "Not to mention the fact that you can't drive." His jaw was set in a stubborn line. "Maybe I--" Her tone softened. "I appreciate what you're doing, Mulder. I do. But it just doesn't make any sense. I'll go. But how will you manage here?" "Captain Lopez got us out here. He'll just have to have one of his men provide transportation for me. Are you sure, Scully?" "I'm sure. Skinner is dead meat though, once I get back to Washington." Mulder chuckled wryly. "Don't think he doesn't know that already." "I'll drop you at the police station." A minute later, they were there. Looking around furtively, Mulder saw the coast was clear and pulled his partner into a long, deep kiss. He broke off reluctantly and his anxious eyes scanned her face. Her fingers trailed down his face. "It's okay, Mulder. I'll call you from Kentucky." He nodded, then eased himself out of the car, pulling his crutches from the back seat. "Be safe, Scully." She smiled. "Always." He watched until the car disappeared in the distance, then made his way painfully into the police station. Captain Lopez was waiting for him. "No cast. I guess that's a good sign." "I guess. I can't say it feels any better." Mulder sat down and gratefully accepted the coffee Lopez handed him. "My partner had to go back to Kentucky, and I obviously can't drive. Any possibility of one of your men ferrying me around?" "No problem. It's not like we're rushed off our asses here or anything. How'd you do it, anyway?" Mulder took a long swallow of the heady brew. "Chasing something I saw outside your cabin. My best guess is that it was the same thing Connie Crowley saw -- minus the elephant." Lopez' eyebrows rose to his hairline. "No shit?" "No shit. A very tall, glowing man-like figure." The police captain stood. "Hell, I'll drive you myself. If you're finished with your coffee, we can go." The men chatted on the drive up to the national park, but Mulder's mind was less on the conversation than on the apparition he had seen. Could it be extraterrestrial, he wondered. For some reason, he didn't think so, although he was perfectly willing to be proven wrong on the matter. Scully's report after her interview with the 'returned' man would prove interesting... Ranger Crowley was just finishing a lecture to some hikers. She was an attractive woman in a weathered, outdoorsy sort of way. She was of medium height and stocky, though Mulder was ready to bet she didn't have anything other than heavy muscle on her body. About middle age, she had the kind of eyes that didn't miss much, and her long chestnut hair was pulled back in a sensible braid. "Connie, this is Agent Mulder from the FBI. He'd like to talk to you about what you saw. Maybe we could move this inside so he can sit down?" "Sure thing, come on inside. Watch the steps." She led the way and soon they were seated before a crackling fire, an empty chair pulled up for Mulder to rest his foot on. The agent let her tell her story. "We were out searching for Frank Crane. There must have been twenty or so of us, but we were pretty spread out. Within shouting distance, but not in sight of each other. We had been at it all day, very methodically searching the park on a grid system. We were in the southwest grid when the sun went down." Her keen brown eyes stared intently into Mulder's. "Now, there's no use searching for anyone after dark. Even with a full moon, you can't see well enough to find squat, especially if what or who you're looking for doesn't want to be found. I was just turning around to start back to the station when I heard something moving through the trees about fifty yards off to my left. I saw some glimpses of light and thought it might be one of the other rangers or one of the cops in the search party. I changed my path so it would intersect with the one this other person was on. I know this park like the back of my hand, and if it was one of Captain Lopez' men, I didn't want him getting lost." "Did you call out to this other person?" Mulder asked quietly. Her brow knit in a frown. "No. No, I didn't, and I'm not sure why. I guess I thought he could hear me, though I move pretty quietly. I don't know, maybe I thought at the time it might be Crane." She scanned Mulder's face. "Look, I'm not one to over-dramatize or see things that aren't there," she asserted with some heat. He nodded slowly. "I'm sure you're not." "Because I don't want you thinking I'm looking for publicity, or I'm one of those nut cases in the Enquirer or on Jerry Springer." "Captain Lopez has vouched for your character," Mulder assured her. "Please, go on." Warily, she continued. "There was an outcropping of rock that I had to get around to intersect with the other path. When I did, I guess I was about thirty feet or so from... from what I saw..." She hesitated, clearly having difficulty talking about something she couldn't explain rationally to herself, let alone anyone else. "I noticed the smell first, as I went around the rock. Kind of an earthy, cow pasture sort of smell. Then when I came into view of the other trail, I saw it. A huge elephant, only hairy, with enormous curving tusks. Well, I was just frozen in place. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Then this... this figure stepped out from the other side of the creature. He was glowing and had to be ten feet tall. I didn't move. I'm not sure I could have. But he seemed to sense my presence. He looked over toward me, then moved off quickly in the opposite direction into the forest. The elephant followed him." Mulder was fascinated. "Was he running away, like he was afraid of you?" "No, I wouldn't say he was running away. It was like he didn't want to run into me any more than I wanted to run into him." "How was he dressed?" "Dressed?" Connie seemed surprised by the question. "I'm not sure I noticed. Wait a sec... " She closed her eyes, as if to concentrate better. "Robes. Loose robes, like in those pictures of ancient Greeks or Romans." "I don't suppose you found any physical evidence of what you saw? Not that I don't believe you," Mulder said quickly as the woman stiffened. "It's just that it would help. Footprints, anything like that?" "It was way too dark to see footprints, and the weather had been pretty dry, so I'm not sure there would have been any even if I looked. But I did see something." At Lopez' expression of surprise, she turned to him. "I'm sorry, Michael. I know I didn't tell you before. I was just too freaked out by the whole thing. But after they left -- long after they left -- I went over to where they had been standing. I found out where the smell was coming from. There on the trail was a huge pile of what I can only assume was fresh elephant dung. It was way too big to be from anything normally in the park. Definitely a plant-eater, and just way too huge to be from deer or moose or elk." "I don't suppose you took a sample," Mulder said hopefully. Connie looked at him as if he had taken leave of his senses. "At that point, Agent Mulder, I got my ass back to the ranger station as fast as I could move. Maybe you see enough of this sort of thing to take it in stride, but I was a basket case. Look, all this is confidential, right? I love my job here, but if the powers that be think I've started seeing things..." Mulder chuckled. "Don't worry about that, Ranger Crowley. My report will never be seen by anyone from the Parks Service, I can promise you that." Lopez stood. "Thanks, Connie. We'll let you get back to work now." Mulder swung himself painfully out to the cruiser on his crutches. "Where to?" the police captain asked. By that time, Mulder's ankle was throbbing terribly. "Back to your cabin, if you don't mind, Captain Lopez. I can do what I need to do by phone and computer." It was a short trip to the cabin. Mulder slid out of the cruiser and propped his crutches under his arms. Lopez called out the window, "Sure you'll be okay? It's pretty lonely out here. You're stuck if you need anything." "No problem. I won't need anything." Lopez nodded. "Yeah, well, I'll have one of my men or a ranger drop by later to check and see how you're doing. I don't want to have to explain to Washington why I abandoned an injured Fibbie." "I'll be fine, thanks," Mulder assured the police captain. He was nauseous and in a cold sweat from the pain by the time he finally got into the cabin and collapsed in a chair. It was only after Lopez' cruiser had disappeared from view that he remembered the prescription for pain medication in his pocket. After his assurances to Lopez that he would be fine, his male ego would not allow him to call the police captain back to run to the pharmacy for him. Wryly, he thought about what his partner would say if she were there. He looked at his watch. Scully would be on her way to San Francisco by now. Sighing, he looked around the cabin. She hadn't stopped at the cabin before she left, probably feeling that she would be back soon and she could pick up anything she needed at an airport shop between flights. Grimacing, he grabbed a crutch and maneuvered it to where Scully's medical bag lay next to the bed. He hooked one of the handles on to the end of the crutch and swung it around to drop by his chair. He knew she rarely carried drugs - not the good kind, anyway - but there was always a chance. All he found was some ibuprofen, but he scooped up four tablets and swallowed them without water, considering himself fortunate. While he waited for the tablets to take effect on the bone-deep ache in his ankle, he picked up his cell phone and dialed a familiar number. "Lone Gunman." "Hi, Byers. I need you guys to help me out on something." "Always glad to oblige, Mulder. It's been a little quiet around here." "Great. What can you tell me about sightings of a ten foot tall glowing man dressed in Greek robes and sometimes accompanied by what sounds like a woolly mammoth?" There was a silence at the end of the line. Then, "No, really, Mulder. What do you want?" "That's it." He heard a muted discussion in the background between the three eccentrics, Langly's bark of laughter, and Frohike's question about what hallucinogenics Mulder had been exposed to this time. "I'm switching to speaker, Mulder," Byers' voice said. "Really, guys. I'm serious. I seem to remember something I read once, but can't quite place it. Something about glowing super-humans." "All right. Where were the sightings you know about?" Frohike's tone made it clear that he thought he was wasting his time. "Mammoth Caves National Park and Lassen Peak Volcanic National Park. Hey, Frohike, I met the woman of your dreams. Even got her picture for you." He could hear the Gunman typing information into his computer. "About time I got some recognition for my expertise," he replied, distracted. "Well, I'll be... Hey, Mulder, it looks like you may just have stumbled on something interesting. What do you know about Hollow Earth?" * * * Doob Creek, Kentucky Sunday, 1:40 AM Scully glared through reddened eyes. "I realize you were expecting me sooner," she growled, her teeth clenched. "And I realize that it's late. I may realize better than anyone that it's late. But if you want me to interview Floyd Purdy, it's going to be now. I am less than sympathetic to the fact that he happens to be sleeping at the moment." John Finn held his hands up placatingly. "Okay, okay. I'll go wake him up. I have him in a cell, since he didn't have anywhere else to go. Let me get him." She threw herself into the most comfortable chair in the office - Finn's, to be precise. The trip getting back to Doob Creek had been a nightmare. First, the flight from San Francisco to Cincinnati made an emergency landing in Salt Lake City due to equipment failure. Though the pilot did not announce the source of the problem to avoid alarming the passengers, Scully in her window seat had an excellent view of the black smoke billowing from one of the engines. Thirty white-knuckled minutes later, they landed safely, with an escort of firetrucks and other emergency vehicles on the runway flanking them. She was forced to route through Dallas to then go to Cincinnati. On the Cincinnati flight, a passenger had chest pain. As Scully was the only doctor on board, she spent an hour tending to the sick man until the plane made an emergency landing in St. Louis to take the passenger to the hospital. Deciding that the patron saint of air travel was napping, whoever the hell he might be, she opted to drive from Saint Louis before she tempted fate further. Two rest stops for coffee at truck stops further tried her patience. She pulled up in front of the Sheriff's office in a foul temper and with her head banging. She heard some mumbling and footsteps from down the hallway. "All right, here he is," Finn said, shoving Purdy into a straight-backed chair. He loomed over the scruffy man. "Now you listen up and answer the lady's questions, or I'll see to it your new accommodations are a hell of a lot rougher than your present ones, y'hear?" "Yeah, I hear. I won't make no trouble. I turned over a new leaf, I keep tellin' ya." She stared at the man for some time, a look that had made stronger men's blood turn cold, but he returned it calmly. She noted that in spite of the ordeal he had supposedly been through, he looked a lot better than he had in his photograph. Maybe five years younger, in spite of the fact that the man hardly lived anything remotely like a healthy lifestyle. "All right, Mr. Purdy," Scully said. "I'm tired, and I'm not in the mood to hear any tall tales about Bigfoot. What happened to you and the other men out in the forest?" He grinned, displaying cracked and stained teeth, but the smile was oddly disarming.. "T'weren't no Bigfoot, ma'am. I'll tell ya jist what happened, but hear me out, okay? Because its goin' to be hard for you to believe. It was for me... it still is. But as God is my judge, it's the truth, I swear it." "Go on," Scully said non-committally. "Okay." Purdy took a deep breath and began. "Junior and me was in the Park that night, lookin' for Jack- Bob's still. He makes the best corn liquor hereabouts, but we already owed him for the last batch we got, and he wouldn't give us more until we paid up. Junior's ole lady wouldn't give him any money, and I was dead broke, so's we were gonna jist make a little withdrawal from his stash, figurin' he'd never miss it. You follow so far?" "I follow," Scully replied with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. "Jist makin' sure. You look wore out," he remarked solicitously. "Okay, so we was havin' trouble findin' the right trail. Jack-Bob covers it up so folks cain't find it. Not very kindly of him, but that's Jack-Bob for ya. Anyways, all of a sudden, we saw a light up ahead about fifty feet or so through the trees. So we figured either Jack-Bob was protectin' his still, or some other enterprisin' folks was doin' what Junior and me was. So we laid low for a while and watched. After a while, the light went around to our right, about sixty feet off. We waited another coupla minutes, then started ahead. "We was lookin' around for the trail, when all of a sudden, we could see our shadows ahead of us. Meanin'," Purdy explained earnestly, "that there was a light right behind us. We turned around -- and there it was!" "If you say Bigfoot, you're a dead man," Scully intoned dully, rubbing her temples. "No, ma'am," Purdy replied. "It weren't nothin' like Bigfoot. It was a man... a huge glowing man, dressed like in one of them gladiator movies. He musta been ten, twelve foot tall. He was shinin' jist like the sun and he had this real peaceful-like look on his face. Well, he reached out and took us by our collars and nudged us a little, to get us walkin'. Well, Junior and me was jist about ready to shit ourselves, we were so scared. Oh -- sorry, ma'am. But real gradual-like, we started feelin' less scared, like everything was gonna be okay. We walked through the forest for miles, sometimes along hikers' trails, sometimes through the underbrush. When we was jist about ready to drop, the man pulled us around this like mountain of rock. He let go of us then and motioned to us, like we was supposed to follow him. It was like mind control, or somethin', 'cause we did, even though we both wanted nothin' more than to clear out. "Anyways, he went to this rock formation and seemed to disappear! Junior and me followed his light through an opening that you couldn't see 'cept from this one angle. Now, there's caves all over the Park -- that's how it gets its name -- and I know most of 'em like the back of my hand. But this one was a new one on Junior and me. "So we was in this cave, the floor slopin' so steep it was hard to keep from slidin'. We followed him down what seemed like miles." He stopped, a confused expression on his face. Despite her fatigue, Scully was intrigued by the man's story, if only for the amount of imagination Purdy showed in its fabrication. "What happened then?" He scratched his head with a grimy finger. "Well, I don't rightly know. I don't know whether we fell asleep, or got knocked out or what. All I know is the next time I opened my eyes, we was in this amazing place! It was like Disney World, only without all those folks walkin' around in cartoon suits and mouse ears. I... I don't know if I'm s'pposed to say any more. I think it's kinda a secret." Scully was unimpressed. "Uh-huh. So why were you brought there, Mr. Purdy? Why did they let you go? And what happened to Mr. Naismith?" Purdy's expression cleared and he nodded. "Now *that* I can tell ya. The guy said -- well, he didn't like actually talk, he spoke into our heads, you know? He said we were there to learn. He said humanity had been cursed with bad lots like us, and once we learned, we'd be sent back to rejoin humanity. I cain't remember much about the time I was there. I jist know that after I was there a while, a feelin' came over my heart, and I knew I would change my ways. The next thing I remember is standin' on a path in the forest. I followed it and hitched a ride from a tourist back to town. Then the Sheriff spotted me and hauled me in here. You wouldn't have some coffee, by any chance, Big John? All this talkin' makes a man's throat dry." "Yeah, I just made some. You, Agent Scully?" "Yes, please. So, Mr. Purdy, where's Mr. Naismith? And Mr. Smithers?" "I guess they're still there. I cain't remember seein' 'em, but if Junior ain't here, he must be there. I guess they haven't learned yet. Hardly surprisin'," he concluded with a grin. "We'll probably never see Jack-Bob again. No one can git anything through that thick head of his." "So what are you going to do now?" "Git myself a real job. Maybe take night classes so I can git my high chool diploma." Despite the man's track record up to his disappearance, Scully could discern the unshakable faith of the recently converted in his demeanor. Not that she believed a word of his story, but obviously some sort of epiphany had taken place. She had no doubt that he meant what he said about turning over a new leaf. Whether he could sustain that intent, only time would tell. Purdy accepted the styrofoam cup from the Sheriff. "Can I go back to bed now?" "You need him any more?" Finn asked Scully. At her head shake, the Sheriff led Purdy back to his cell. She sipped her coffee, her mind on the man's tale. Soon, Finn returned and sat down with his own mug in hand. He grabbed the coffee pot and refilled her cup. "So what do you think?" She smiled tiredly. "Do you mean, do I believe his story? No. Clearly something happened, something he can't explain even to himself. So he concocted this story, perhaps even subconsciously, to come to terms with whatever did happen to him. I do, however, believe that whatever it was, it was powerful enough to force him to re-think his life. I think he's going to make an honest attempt to clean up his act." "I sure as hell hope so," Finn sighed. "We'll see. Do you think your partner is going to believe his story?" She smiled once more. "Undoubtedly." She looked at her watch. "It's after midnight there, but he should still be up." She pulled her cellphone from her purse and hit the speed dial. "Mmm? Mulder." "I'm sorry, were you sleeping?" His chuckle warmed her. "More like dozed off over a hot computer. What time is it?" "Two-thirty AM for me, twelve-thirty for you. How's your ankle?" "Hurts like hell. I forgot to get the prescription filled. Besides, codeine makes my thinking go all fuzzy. Did you speak to Purdy yet? I was worried, I was expecting to hear from you hours ago." "I had a couple of flights from hell. Long story. Anyway, yes, I just finished my interview with him." "And...?" "Some nonsense about a glowing man in a toga taking him to a magical city in a cave. Whatever really happened, it does seem to have had a remarkable effect on him. Not only is he swearing to become an upright citizen, but he looks at least five years younger in person than he did in that mugshot we saw. Or maybe that was just a bad picture." There was an undercurrent of excitement in Mulder's voice. "I don't think so, Scully. As a matter of fact, everything that Purdy says makes perfect sense." "Mulder, you have got to be kidding. He described the place as Disney World without the cartoon characters, for heaven's sake!" "It's called the Hollow Earth theory, Scully. I've been studying up on it all day. Edmund Halley, the astronomer and discoverer of Halley's comet, proposed one of the earliest theories in 1692. He said that in order to account for variations in the magnetic field, the earth had to be hollow. In fact, he theorized that the earth was actually four spheres, nested one inside the other." "Mulder, even a brilliant astronomer can make mistakes. He probably believed in leeching and witchcraft too." She glared at Finn's obvious amusement. Her partner went on as if he hadn't heard a word she said. "And in the eighteenth century, Leonhard Euler, a Swiss mathematician, theorized a hollow earth with an internal sun 600 miles wide, and the advanced civilization that lived there." Scully sighed. "Fortunately, we live in the twenty- first century, and no one believes that nonsense anymore. And what does that have to do with glowing men in togas and their pet elephants?" Finn appeared as if he was going to burst into hysterical giggling. Throwing a hand over his mouth, he exited the office, his laughter ringing in the silent street. Again, Mulder's enthusiasm was unchecked. "I'm so glad you asked. In 1846 a woolly mammoth was found in Siberia in a remarkable state of preservation. Several scientists at the time believed that the state of the remains was explained by the fact that in truth, they had not been lying around for millions of years, but rather the animal had died relatively recently, having wandered outside the hole at the North Pole that leads to Hollow Earth." Scully's tenuous control on her temper was beginning to fray. "Mulder, I'm too tired for this insanity. No modern scientist in his right mind would give any credence whatsoever--" "Ah, but that's where you're wrong, Scully. No less an authority than Admiral Richard Byrd had the backing of the United States government when they sponsored his flights to the North and South Poles, in part to look for these openings to Hollow Earth. Even Hitler believed that the Master Race originated from the people who dwelled in the advanced civilization at the center of the earth, and he sent missions looking for these openings." "Oh, Adolf Hitler. There's an authority for you. The very pinnacle of rational thought." Her sarcasm was lost on him. "And guess where two of these openings are thought to be? Mammoth Caves National Park in Kentucky, and Lassen Peak Volcanic National Park in California! And that's not all. The advanced civilization? Well, there are a number of theories about who those people are - from the survivors of the destruction of Atlantis to the Lost Tribes of Israel to the lost Viking colony in Greenland--" "Mulder!" "--but nearly every authority describes these people as being ten to twelve feet tall, with a rich, advanced civilization. In fact, some feel that that what we think are UFOs carrying aliens from other planets are actually the flying craft of Agartha -- that's another name for this place -- coming from inside the earth, rather than from space." "MULDER!" Scully's angry shout finally brought him to a halt. "What?" "There is absolutely no scientific proof of this." "Well, I wouldn't say absolutely none," he replied, a little stiffly. Scully sighed. "Look, I know you get frustrated when I don't believe in this stuff, when... when all I seem to do is throw a bucket of cold water on the fire of your enthusiasm. Mulder, you once told me that I keep you honest. I wouldn't be able to do that if I didn't challenge these wild theories. Maybe there's something to them, maybe not. I simply think it's too early to say. And Floyd Purdy is not the most credible witness I've ever interviewed... ...Mulder? Did you hear me?" "Sorry, Scully. I could have sworn I saw a light outside." "If I set off now, I should be able to get to Bowling Green in time for the first flight out in the morning. With luck, I can be back in California by early afternoon, and we can go over the evidence and- -" "There *is* a light outside! Hold on, Scully, I'm going to check it out..." She heard the cell phone clatter to the table, the dull rhythmic thud of his crutches on the wood of the cabin floor, the creak of the cabin door as it swung open. "Mulder! Mulder, don't you dare try to chase anything through the woods. You're on crutches, and-- " In the distance, she thought she heard a shout, less of fear than surprise. "Mulder!" she yelled into the cell phone. For close to a lifetime -- at least fifteen minutes - - she held the phone, calling his name, the connection open to the eerie silence of the cabin so far away. Then she grabbed her keys and ran for the car. ACT FOUR Cabin Lassen Peak Volcanic National Park Noon, Sunday "Captain Lopez!" The stocky officer turned as the car skidded to a halt and the red-headed woman charged toward him. "Agent Scully, you made good time. I wasn't expecting you for another hour or so." "Have you found him yet?" she demanded. He looked at her, taking in the disheveled clothing, the reddened eyes, the pallor of her skin. "Come on in the cabin, Agent Scully. You look like you could use a hot meal and some rest." "I don't have time for that," she snapped. "Where's my partner?" Lopez grabbed her by the shoulders mid stride as she tried to push past him. "How long is it since you ate, or got any meaningful sleep?" "It doesn't matter, I have to find him." "How long?" Suddenly, the fight seemed to drain from her. "I slept a little on the planes. Eat... I think the last time was breakfast yesterday, outside of some pretzels on the planes." "That's what I thought." He kept an avuncular arm around her shoulders as he led her to the cabin. "Look, you can't do him any good if you pass out. I have to brief you anyway. It would be better for you and easier for me if we could do that over some hot food and coffee." There was no denying what the police captain said made sense. "All right. I have to change anyway." "That's more like it," he said kindly. In any event, Scully already knew what he was going to say... that there was no trace of her partner. She had lived this moment so often in both real life and her nightmares that she was a little surprised she wasn't more accustomed to it. But her heart thudded painfully in her chest, and the rest of her was just a vacuum Mulder's presence should have filled. She pulled some jeans, socks, clean panties and a sweater from her bag and disappeared into the bathroom. Quickly she washed, drying off, changing her clothes and then bathing her face once more in the ice-cold tap water. Feeling no less tired but infinitely less grubby, she emerged from the bathroom to find Lopez busy at the gas stove. "Have a seat at the table. It's almost ready." She laced up her hiking boots over the thick wool socks. When she finished, a steaming mug of coffee was waiting for her. She grasped the chipped mug like it was the last life preserver on the Titanic and carefully sipped. A moment later a bowl of stew was placed in front of her, and Captain Lopez sat across from her with his own bowl. "Now I want to see you eating before I start talking," he said with mock severity. She sighed and picked up her spoon, tasting the savory stew. Her brows rose. "This isn't just canned stew. You're quite a cook." He chuckled. "It is just canned stew, I just added a little of this and a little of that. Surprising what a few chilis and fresh herbs can do. It's good to see you eating." In truth, she was hungrier than she thought. And God knew she needed every bit of energy she could grab for the search ahead. Finally, about three quarters of the generous serving gone, she pushed back the bowl. "You obviously haven't found Mulder. Why don't you start at the beginning?" He shrugged. "All right. After you left, we drove up to the ranger station and interviewed Connie Crowley. I found " -- he gestured to a pile of handwritten papers -- "your partner's notes from the interview. Connie was very convincing about what she saw. Then I dropped him off back here -- he said he had some research to do and some people he wanted to contact. I had one of the rangers check on him when the park closed for the night. He was okay, so the ranger went home. Then nothing until I got the call from you at around one in the morning." She perused the notes, then looked up. "Did you see any sign of him at all?" There was a vulnerability in her question that caught at Lopez' heart. "We found his crutches. And that was weird." "Weird? How?" "Well, I would have expected to see them thrown on the ground, or maybe evidence that he had used them defensively, like a club, you know? But we found them together, leaning against a tree. Like he didn't need them anymore, stacked them neatly against the tree, and walked off." "Was there any sign of... of..." "Of a struggle?" Lopez finished for her. "No, nothing. There were signs that the ground had been walked on, but no sign of a struggle. No broken branches, no churned-up ground, no blood or ripped clothing. Nothing to indicate that a fight had taken place." Scully rubbed her eyes tiredly. "Then what do you think happened, Captain Lopez? You yourself saw how bad Mulder's ankle was. He couldn't have walked ten feet without those crutches." He shook his head. "What it was, I have no idea. But we know what it wasn't, and that should bring some comfort. We know it wasn't some wild animal -- a bear or mountain lion. Nor was it either of the missing men -- they definitely would have left signs of a fight, and if worse came to worst, they wouldn't hang around to hide a body. But beyond that, I'm stumped." He took a good look at her. "Now you can tell me to tuck it where the sun don't shine if you want, but I gotta know something. Is there something personal here? I mean, when I got your call last night, you were practically hysterical, Agent Scully. And you don't strike me as a woman prone to hysteria. And I gotta say, you and your partner seem a lot... closer... than I figure is customary in the FBI." "I was just tired," Scully replied evasively. "Normally I'm a lot more in control than that." "Uh-huh," responded Lopez, clearly having his own ideas on the matter, regardless of Scully's reticence. "Well, I suppose I won't be able to convince you to get some sleep, not while your partner's still missing." "That's right," Scully said, standing up. "So why don't you start by taking me to the place you found the crutches?" * * * It was sundown when a trickle of tired cops and park rangers emerged from the forest. Behind them, one very angry voice could be heard. "You can't leave him!" Lopez turned to her, his arms outstretched in a plea for understanding. "I don't want to break off the search, Agent Scully. But the fact of the matter is that there's no point to continuing after dark. We won't be able to see a thing, and we risk getting lost or injured ourselves. We're all tired, and I don't know how you're even still on your feet." "My partner is still missing." They walked out of the forest, now on the pine needle-strewn ground in front of the cabin. The patrol cars and Park Jeeps were backing out for the drive home. "Look, Agent Scully," he said, not unkindly. "We'll all be back at sun-up. There simply isn't anything else to be done right now. If you want to do something for your partner, take care of yourself. Get some food and then get some rest. You're so tired you're barely rational. Or would you rather come into town? I could find someone to put you up." "I'm not leaving here," she said, shooting him a withering glance. He patted her on the shoulder, then got into his cruiser and backed down the drive. Scully's eyes filled with tears of frustration. Her practical side told her that Lopez was right. She hadn't had any meaningful sleep in two days and Mulder would be furious if she ignored her own welfare to continue to search through the night. But her emotional side... Feet dragging, she went into the cabin. There was quite a lot more food than she and Mulder had brought, as well as all sorts of camping gear. Lopez must have brought it when he used the cabin as the staging area for Mulder's search. She put a fresh pot of coffee on the gas stove and cracked a couple of eggs into a pan. Then, when her sparse meal was ready, she sat at the table. She picked up Mulder's cell phone and checked the last number dialed out. She should have known - the Gunmen. She pushed a button. "The Lone Gunman." "Byers, this is Scully." "Oh, hi, Scully. Back in California with Mulder? Hold on, I'll put you on speaker." "That's the problem. I'm back in California, but Mulder is missing." "No shit?" exclaimed Langly. "What happened?" Quickly, Scully briefed them, including her conversation with Floyd Purdy. "Mulder said he saw a light, and followed it?" Byers asked. "If so, that would fit in with-" "Don't give me that Hollow Earth garbage, okay guys? I'm not in the mood." "You may not be in the mood, Agent Scully, but if you ignore the possibility, you may never find him," Frohike commented. "Seriously, Frohike... do you think there's anything to this Hollow Earth business?" God, I must be tired, Scully thought. Look who I'm asking. "There's a lot of evidence, some of it even you would have a hard time refuting. Yeah, I think there's a fair chance it exists." "So how's that going to help me find Mulder?" There was a short silence as the Gunmen considered. "Well," Frohike said, "these 'glowing men' have never been spotted by more than one or two people at a time. Could be a big search party just keeps them away." "If what Purdy said was true, Scully, it would seem we have little to fear from these creatures," Byers added. "Even in the extremely remote possibility that these creatures from Hollow Earth have Mulder," she persisted, "why take him? He certainly doesn't fit the profile of the others they've been taking." "True," conceded Langly. "But these glowing guys seem to be able to sense things about the men they've been taking. They certainly don't hang around town or scour rap sheets to find out who to take. So they must have figured out who to take by telepathy or something. What if they took Mulder for another reason? Because they sensed he was a believer? ...Scully?" "Sorry... I drifted off there for a second. Look, I'm too tired to think straight. I just can't believe in ten foot tall glowing men, but I'm fresh out of other theories." "Get some sleep, Scully. We'll see if we can come up with anything," Frohike said. "Like a way to contact these Hollow Earth people," Langly chimed in. "And we'll call you back in the morning," added Byers. "Mulder will be pissed at us as well as at you if you don't take care of yourself." "Yeah, I know. Thanks, guys." She looked down at the unappetizing mess of cold eggs on her plate and shoved it away. The bed beckoned. She pulled off her hiking boots and crawled under the covers. But somehow, sleep wouldn't come. She tossed and turned for over an hour, haunted by the smell of Mulder on the sheets. Finally she gave up, throwing off the covers and pulling her boots back on. Scully scanned the cabin. She snatched up a ground sheet and a sleeping bag, then a flashlight, and went out into the night. The path to the area where Mulder disappeared was well-trodden by the search party and easy to find. She followed it, coming to the tree where his crutches had been found. Spreading the ground sheet out, she unrolled the sleeping bag on it and crawled in, supporting her back and shoulders against the tree. The woods were alive with the sounds of night creatures. All right, she thought. If you exist, you glowing men, if you can read minds... bring him back. Aloud, she called, "Bring him back! Please, bring him back." Over and over she thought the words, her lips moving as if in prayer, not noticing a long time later when an eerie silence came over the forest. Finally sleep claimed her... * * * Voices. There were voices. Deep, soft. Trying not to wake her. Somewhere to the left, a source of light. If she could just get her eyes to cooperate, and open... They fluttered a few times, giving her just a glance of Mulder, and a tall, glowing figure... A low chuckle, and a farewell. Then footsteps coming close... "Scully? Scully, love. Can you open your eyes?" Finally, the exhaustion that had paralyzed her was extinguished by the rough whisper of his voice. "Mulder!" Her arms flew around his neck as she buried her head in his chest. "Oh, God! I didn't know where you were, if I'd see you again..." "Shh." He stroked her hair, calming her, holding her until the rough sobs had trailed off to sniffles. "I'm so sorry, love. You okay now?" She nodded and released him. "Mulder, where were you?" "Come on, let's go back to the cabin and I'll tell you a bedtime story." She started to wriggle from the sleeping bag but he stopped her with a gentle pressure. "Let me," he whispered. Effortlessly he scooped her up, still cocooned in the sleeping bag. "Mulder, your ankle--" "Good as new, Scully. That's part of the story." "But how--?" "Shh. Just wait." He carried her through the trees and into the cabin, depositing her on the bed. Then he lit the lanterns, brightening the cabin so for the first time she got a good look at him. "Mulder, you look... amazing! You're tanned, and you're walking on your bad ankle without a trace of a limp. In fact, you look like you've just gotten back from a health spa!" "And you look like you need one. You haven't been eating or sleeping, have you?" She leveled an accusing gaze at him. "And if our positions were reversed, would you?" He shrugged. "Score one for Scully. You're right, I wouldn't. First, let's call off the hunt, so we won't be disturbed in the morning." He picked up the cell phone and dialed, announcing to a no-doubt startled desk sergeant who he was, that he was back at the cabin with his partner, and would be getting in touch with Captain Lopez the following afternoon. He returned the cell phone to the table. "Now, what do you say we both get more comfortable, and I'll tell you what happened." Gently, almost reverently, he undressed her and pulled the heavy bed linens over her. Then he stripped and slid in beside her. "Comfy?" Her brow was furrowed. "When I was waking up in the forest, I could have sworn... No, I couldn't have. It's not possible." He chuckled. "Oh, yes it is. The evidence of your own eyes, Scully. Believe it. And wait until you hear the rest." "In that case, Mulder, if you don't start talking, I'm going to hurt you." "So impatient," he said, gathering her close to him. "All right, where do you want me to start?" "I've already read your notes of the Crowley interview and talked to the Gunmen. So why don't you start where you left me holding the phone - literally." "Yeah. I'm sorry. I really didn't plan on a ditch, but it looks like that's the way it turned out. Forgive me?" "I'm thinking about it. Start talking." He kissed her on the top of her head. "You're a hard woman, Scully. Okay. I saw the source of light outside the cabin. It was definitely the tall glowing figure I had seen before when I screwed up my ankle chasing him. So I grabbed my crutches and took off as fast as I could into the forest. Now I don't know if you were aware of this, but crutches leave something to be desired for negotiating woodland terrain." "Actually, I did know that," she replied dryly. "Anyway, I fell -- sprawled headlong, is more like it -- and had the wind knocked out of me. So I was lying on the ground, trying to remember how to breathe, when I noticed the light coming back towards me. He stopped and stood about ten feet away, his hands raised, as if in a gesture of peace or something. So I guess I just nodded -- I certainly wasn't capable of much else at the time -- and he came closer, holding out a hand to me. "Well, I struggled to my feet. He told me to follow - - no, that's not entirely right. I didn't figure it out for a while, but he rarely ever really spoke. He was telepathic. What I thought was speaking was his thoughts in my mind. So anyway, I tried to follow and of course, fell flat on my face as soon as I tried to put weight on the bad ankle. He looked at me quizzically, I guess trying to figure out why I had such an affinity for being on the ground. I motioned to my ankle, and mimed that I couldn't walk. He could probably read my thoughts, but I hadn't clued into that at that point. His face cleared and he came and knelt next to me. He put his hands on my ankle and the glow increased, and I felt a deep warmth and tingling there. A minute later, he got up, helped me to my feet, and my ankle was as good as new!. He picked up my crutches and leaned them against the tree, and we started walking. "There wasn't much conversation as we walked. He sensed that I had a million questions, but he always communicated 'Later'. So I kept my thoughts to myself for a change and followed him through the forest for miles. We moved fast, and he kept looking at the sky, as if we had to be wherever we were going before it got light. Finally we came to a rocky area. I followed him around an outcropping that led to a little inlet between the rock walls. He went to the left, through what appeared to be solid rock, until I got close enough to see the opening. It was so well- hidden, blended in so well with the surrounding colors, you'd never know it was there. We bent low to get through but then there was a steep downward path through caverns hung with stalactites of amazing colors. There were all sorts of twists and turns, nearly invisible openings, openings that seemed like they would go somewhere but didn't. Even if someone found the opening to the cave, they could never find the path we took. Still with me, Scully?" The exhaustion that had plagued her for days seemed very distant now. Mulder's tale completely absorbed her, drew her into a fantastic world. "Yes... but it's so... unreal..." He chuckled. "Believe it or not, even I was having a hard time with that. I felt like I had fallen down the rabbit hole in 'Alice in Wonderland'. And that's the one time he did speak to me. Evidently my metaphor amused him. He turned around and smiled at me, and said, 'There are more things in heaven and earth, Mr. Mulder, than are dreamt of in even your philosophy'." "Paraphrasing Shakespeare?" Mulder nodded, his eyes reflecting wonder. "They were probably buddies. Anyway, at some point he sort of made a gesture to my head, and there's a gap in my memory. I don't know whether he carried me the rest of the way, or we were transported somehow. But the next thing I knew, I was in this fabulous city. "Scully, I wish I could describe it to you in a way that would do it justice. The colors were so clear and bright they hurt my eyes. Incredible architecture, combining both strength and an amazing ethereal beauty. Clean, so clean - clean air, clean water, clean streets and buildings. Flying vehicles like cars, but the ground was for pedestrian traffic only, and inlaid with beautiful mosaics. Gardens were everywhere - on the ground, hanging from the sides of buildings, on rooftops. Flowers, vines, fruits and vegetables of incredible size. Fountains, both of water and of light... Perfect..." Mulder's voice shook with emotion. He cleared his throat. "Anyway, he led me to a building, with soaring buttresses and skylights. The walls glowed with an artificial light that bathed everything in a soft gold. There were indoor gardens and soft, exotic music that seemed to come from the walls themselves. He led me to a kind of conference room, all set out with wine and food. He explained, again telepathically, that I was in the city of Lesser Shamballa, a major city in their land of Agartha." "So it's true?" she asked, dazed. "The legends are all true? Are you sure you weren't hallucinating or something?" Mulder nodded. "Positive. Scully, if there is a Heaven, it must be like Agartha. The frustrating thing is that I know I saw and learned so much more there than I remember now. Lathos -- that was my guide -- said that would be the case. You know how we're told that we don't use more than a tenth of our brain capacity? In Agartha -- whether because of mutation or the atmosphere or what -- a much greater proportion of the brain is utilized. Which explains why the culture is so advanced. Why they've mastered telepathy and psychic healing. It also explains that while I was able to absorb so much when I was there, recalling it now is a problem." "Though your eidetic memory must be playing some sort of a role. You remember a hell of a lot more than Purdy did. What about the people, Mulder?" He smiled and held her close. He was amazed but gratified that Scully seemed to accept at face value what had happened to him. "Just like Lathos. Not a lot of diversity. There were women and men, all tall, strong, and beautiful, radiating peace and well- being. Not a lot of children, though. Lathos said that although death is not unknown, it comes only after many, many centuries of life. I think somehow natural forces control the birth rate there, just replacing those who die to prevent overpopulation. Most of the beings take on the appearance of being between 30 and 40 years of age, and just stay that way. "They're unfailingly polite, but reserved, especially in dealing with those of us from 'above the sun', as they call our world. I did see the missing men -- not to speak to, but enough to know they're being treated far better than they deserve. That was the reason I was brought there. Lathos sought me out, to explain." "Explain?" "They saw how we were searching for the missing men and couldn't risk being discovered. They had a close call when Ranger Crowley saw one of them. So they decided they would have to explain to one of us, so we wouldn't inadvertently screw things up. "Their taking of Smithers and the rest -- it's an experiment, Scully. They know that the biggest danger to Agartha lies 'above the sun'. If we manage to destroy our world, through nuclear war, or biological or chemical warfare, or even poor management of resources and the ecology, it will have an effect on their world. There are scores of openings all over the planet from our world to theirs. Radiation or toxins could leak down there, or massive nuclear detonations could crack the inner sphere which holds their atmosphere, destroying them. Their plan is to try to enlighten the humans who are the bottom- feeders like Smithers. If they find it can be done, they'll pick more high-profile humans in need of enlightenment. Just think, Scully - what would the world be like if the Agarthans could have enlightened a Hitler or a Stalin, a Smoking Man or an Alex Krycek? What if once and for all we could take all the money and manpower we use for war and law enforcement and incarceration of criminals, and use it to eliminate disease and poverty, and to advance civilization?" "But what if it doesn't work, Mulder? It worked for Purdy, but the others are all still there. What if the experiment fails?" He sighed. "That is something they really don't want to think about. That's Plan B. Killing is anathema to them, but they will kill if they feel the destruction of their world or ours is imminent. 'Excisions' Lathos called it, of those who would bring destruction to our worlds. The experiment is just beginning. Time is... different there. I can't explain it, but it doesn't really correlate with ours. I got the impression it's a very long-term experiment -- decades or centuries long -- unless it appears we're about to self-destruct." "Mulder, we're not going to be writing any of this in a report, are we? Not only will the Bureau think we're nuts, but the last thing we want is for someone to actually take this report seriously and start searching for Agartha." He nodded. "You read my mind. And that's why I'm going to need your help. I need you to come up with some sort of rational, scientific explanation for this, Scully. For my disappearance, my reappearance in glowing good health. Something we can put in a report. I know the truth, and now you know it. But it needs to stay with us, Lathos made that clear. The world isn't ready for this. And having seen the civilization that we would be putting at risk, I'd die rather than divulge that secret." "We'll come up with something. I never reported your disappearance to Skinner -- I was so tired, I just sort of forgot -- and we never mentioned your injury to him. You can fake that your ankle is still sprained for the folks around here. Once you leave town you can get rid of the crutches. You've been outdoors a lot -- that explains the tan. If Skinner should find out about your disappearance, well, you just got lost in the woods. And our report will say what everyone wants it to say -- that the men who disappeared did so of their own volition. Though you thought one time that you saw something in the woods, it was impossible to say with any certainty what it was. It's to Doob Creek's financial advantage to keep the Bigfoot myth alive, so they are unlikely to be broadcasting anything about any glowing ten foot tall creatures. And no one there believes Purdy, anyway. The tales of the glowing man will stay exactly that -- legends with no basis in fact." "That's my skeptical partner! I knew I could count on you." She snuggled against him, drowsiness rapidly pulling at her. Sleepily, she murmured, "I wish I could have been there with you... seen it all with you...." He stroked the skin of her arms, her shoulders, her back. "Lathos didn't say not to come back. I think that someday, once he knows we're keeping his secret and we've rewarded his trust, we could come back here. I think if we hang around a few days he'll be able to sense us. Then maybe he'll reappear, and take you on a tour.... Scully?" Finally, she slept. EPILOGUE Jaipur, India Thursday 3 AM Ravi "The Blade" Patel trotted down Agra Marg, away from the LMB Hotel. Damn bitch, he thought. If she had just let go of her purse, he wouldn't have had to cut her up like that. They brought it on themselves, he thought. Rich people, with all the advantages of life, holding on to them, unwilling to share. Once more he looked behind him, satisfied that as yet no police were following. With any luck, he'd be in the forest east of town before they'd come after him. And with the reputation of that forest he doubted they'd have the balls to follow him into the dense woods, especially at night. The place was infamous in all of Rajasthan, maybe all of India, for the stories of strange creatures who prowled the woods at night. Ravi cut sharply from the road and dived into the trees, keeping to his same easy jog. The forest floor here was relatively free of impediments. Finally, at least a kilometer into the forest, he stopped and squatted in a patch of moonlight to survey his takings. The beaded purse was smeared with blood. Ravi tore it open. "Pah!" he spat in disgust. Perfume, cosmetics, a comb. Nothing of any value at all! Why did the old bitch hold on so fiercely, he wondered. He could have saved himself the trouble of cutting her throat. And now Jaipur would be too hot for him... he'd have to move on. Maybe to Amer... no, there were still warrants out for him there. He would have to go to a really big city where he could blend in, unnoticed. Maybe Delhi. Discarding the purse, he walked further into the forest, looking for a convenient thicket where he could bed down for the night. His head pulled sharply to the right. Was that a light through the trees? The path forked and he chose the left. He moved more swiftly, his heart pounding, wanting to put as much distance as possible between himself and that mysterious light. Fifteen minutes later he began to breathe a bit easier. He spotted a stand of ferns that would make a soft bed. He laid down, his dark eyes searching out the night. Suddenly, from behind him, a bright glow lit the forest floor... End of "HOLLOW EARTH" Author's notes: I became fascinated with the subject of Agartha while researching for this story. The events in this story are a mixture of the many and various Hollow Earth beliefs and my own imagination. The three main places where the action takes place, however -- Mammoth Caves, Lassen Peak Volcanic National Park, and Jaipur, India -- are all reputed areas where these openings to Agartha can be found. Readers wishing to learn more about this compelling subject are urged to go to the following websites, which provided me with much of the background information used in this story: http://www2.eu.spiritweb.org/Spirit/hollow-earth.html http://www.onelight.com/hollow/hollowlaunch1.html or just type "Hollow Earth" into a search engine. There was also a very useful www.mapsofindia.com site I used to give me information about the location and layout of Jaipur.