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.