Roadrunners
AS8X07
Rewritten by: Jemirah and XochiLuvr
From the journal of Dana Scully
"Time is a universal invariant." I know
this in my mind, but my heart keeps a different pace.
Time is not what I knew it to be. I long for the days
when I had to struggle to keep up with you; when time
itself had to hurry to avoid being left behind.
Clad in a dark blue robe, Scully walks through her
apartment, turning off lights and checking the door. She
stops in her kitchen, removing two packages from a
drawer. Pulling a calendar from a plain paper bag, she
flips to the proper month, featuring a "Plan 9 From
Outer Space" picture. Taking a red marker off the
counter and uncapping it, she marks a large 'X' over one
square.
Now moments feel like days, my pulse quickening with
every ring of the phone. And then I remember -- we each
choose our path, Mulder. Each to our own truth.
The second package is a gift bag, and a note that clearly
reads "Love, mom" is attached to one handle.
Inside is another calendar, this one featuring pink and
blue baby animals. It gets pinned to the wall next to the
phone. On it, Scully marks a large "O."
But truth is just like time - it catches up and it
just keeps going.
She caps the pen, places it back on the counter, turns
off the kitchen light and walks to her bedroom.
As much as you and I are intertwined, we do define
our own lives. My path keeps me here, anchored in my
faith and my science. For now, your path leads elsewhere,
floating free upon your own beliefs.
Scully gets into bed and pulls the covers over her.
Rolling to her side she clutches a spare pillow to her
chest.
As much as I believe in you, I know you have faith in
me. Know this, Mulder: we will be reunited. I will make
sure of that.
I need your strength now more than ever. I'm tired,
Mulder. Tired of looking for you, tired of finding more
questions than answers, tired of doing this alone. I'm so
tired.
Reaching behind her she turns off the bedside lamp.
---
Numerous faded footprints in the sandy soil of a
taped-off crime scene lead to spattered, dried blood on
the ground. Both of these seem fascinating to a dusty and
wind-blown Scully. She takes photos of the scene with a
digital camera and, a few feet away, she finds a rock
with some white crusty matter on it. Using a pair of
latex gloves, she gathers some of it in an evidence bag
before going to her car. She studies a medical examiner's
report for a few moments before looking again at the
material she just collected. Placing both items on the
car seat beside her she picks up a second folder and
opens it to a missing persons report and a picture of
Hank Gulatarsky. She takes her cell phone from her pocket
and starts to dial. A 'no service' message on the phone
prompts her to frown.
"Damn," she sighs. She looks around, spots a
pay phone a short distance away, gets out of the car and
makes her way toward it.
"Hey, it's Agent Scully. Good morning," she
says when Doggett picks up in the basement office.
"Good afternoon. I've been trying to reach
you," he replies pointedly, the edge in his voice
giving away his displeasure.
"Well, actually, I'm out of town. I'm north of
Sugarville, Utah, roughly," Scully admits.
"Utah? What are you doing there?" Doggett asks.
"The local coroner wants a consultation on a murder
victim; a man who was found beaten to death in the
desert. Apparently, his corpse shows some anomalous
characteristics.
"Anomalous how?" Doggett is clearly curious.
"From what they're telling me, he's a 22-year-old
backpacker who was last seen by his family about six
months ago in perfect health. However, his body is now
showing advanced signs of osteoporosis, arthritis and
kyphosis of the vertebrae. In other words, he's got the
spine of a 90-year-old woman."
"Sounds anomalous, all right. You didn't need me to
tag along?"
"Well, it was just a simple consultation. He called
me over the weekend and I figured I wouldn't bother
you," Scully answers hesitantly.
"If it's such a simple consultation you could have
done it from the office. This wouldn't be a ruse to look
into Hank Gulatarski's missing persons case, would it
now? I suppose there might be certain similarities
between his case and Agent Mulder's...."
"And just how would you know that?" Scully
responds angrily. "You have no business tracking my
every--"
"Agent Mulder's case is still open and, until I'm
told otherwise, it's my case and you're my partner. I
have every right, Agent Scully. And to be honest, I
haven't tracked you. You left the files out in the open
and Hank's sister called this morning for an update on
our findings." He stresses the word 'our.' "I
thought we talked about this, Agent Scully. I thought we
agreed that we're going to look for Mulder
together."
"Oh." Scully pauses to let this new information
sink in. "Frankly there's nothing going on here that
needs two agents."
"Well, if there's anything I can do from here,"
Doggett concedes.
"Well, actually there might be, if you don't mind.
Somewhere in our files theres an unsolved murder
case," Scully says as she looks down at the evidence
bag containing the dried white substance she collected.
"Unfortunately, I don't remember any of the
particulars like where or when it took place, but I do
remember that there were some glycoproteins found at the
crime scene."
"Glycoproteins," Doggett says with no trace of
emotion.
"Yeah, mucous. But it was never identified and,
seeing as how you recently read through all of our files,
I thought maybe it would ring a bell with you," she
explains, stressing the word our right back
at him. "I found some partially dehydrated mucous on
a rock out here."
"Well, I don't have a great memory for mucous but
I'll be happy to look."
Before Scully has a chance to respond to Doggett's
remark, a bus passes on the road in front of her,
drowning out the sound on the phone.
"
remember anything else? Are you still
there, Agent Scully? Agent Scully?" Doggett
continues speaking as Scully watches the bus travel
almost out of her line of sight.
"I'm sorry?" she says, finally returning to the
conversation.
"Do you remember anything else?"
"No, no, no, just mucous. Look, when you find that
file, will you fax it over to the Juab County Sheriff's
office? That's the best place to reach me. My cell phone
doesn't seem to be working out here."
"All right, you got it," Doggett says.
"Thank you," she says as she hangs up the
phone, then leaves the phone booth and watches the bus
turn onto a side road near the crime scene she just left.
---
The remnants of a bare, bone-dry, dilapidated town come
into view on the empty road Scully is driving down. She
looks for the bus but, other than several rusted-out
wrecks that sit among overgrown grass and dead trees,
hers is the only vehicle in sight. At a gas station that
looks like it might have once been an old farmhouse, she
parks and gets out of the car, holding an unfolded
roadmap.
"Hello?" she calls loudly to no avail. She
honks the horn of the car but there still seems to be no
one around. Sighing dejectedly, she places the map on the
hood of the car and starts studying it. Behind her a
fortyish man with light brown hair, wearing a
grease-stained shirt and carrying a dirty rag, steps into
view.
"How ya doing?" he says, startling Scully.
"Good, thanks," she says as she whirls around,
attempting a quick recovery. "I was wondering. A bus
came through here a little while ago. Do you happen to
know where it might have gone?"
"Well, I was around back," the attendant
answers.
"Do you know what's up that road?"
"Eventually it'll get you to Salt Lake... I mean, if
you're not in too much of a hurry," he tells her
with a flourish of his hands. The movement brings a dirty
bandage on his right hand to Scully's attention.
"Can I ask what happened to your hand?" she
inquires instinctively.
"Uh, I was changing the blade on my bow saw. It's
kind of gross," the man answers as Scully takes a
look at the bloody wound on his palm.
"Yeah," she says in agreement. "There was
a murder out here last week about 15, 20 miles off the
state road. Did you hear about it?"
"Yes, I did. It's scary."
"Well, you're going to want to wash this out, put
some iodine on it. You don't want it to get
infected."
"You sound like my mother."
"Yeah, well, I also sound like a doctor."
Hes surprised. "Medical doctor?"
"Yeah. Can you sell me some gas?"
"Oh. I'd love to but I'm all out. See, the tanker
was supposed to be here yesterday, but for some
reason.... I'm hoping for this afternoon. How low are
you?"
"I've got a quarter tank, I think. I'll make it;
it's all right."
"I'd feel awful bad if you didn't. Hang on,"
the man says as he goes behind the gas station.
"Thanks." Scully moves to look at the map
again.
In a moment the man is back with a gas can. "Should
be enough in here to tide you over."
Scully turns to face him. "Oh, that's great. Thank
you," she says with a small smile.
"Do me a favor. Don't go telling people that I'm
giving away free gas back here," he answers with a
smile of his own as he pours the contents of the can into
the gas tank of Scully's rental car.
"Where is here, exactly? I can't seem to
find this town on the map."
"Oh, we're not really a town--just a few like-minded
people trying to keep the modern world at bay," he
replies as he finishes pouring and puts the cap back on
the tank. "You're good to go."
"Thank you very much," Scully says as she gets
in the car. She starts the engine and turns back toward
the crime scene as the man watches her.
---
She makes it a short distance away from the town before
her car sputters and the engine dies. The car rolls to a
stop.
"Okay," she says as she gets out. After walking
back to the gas station, she's worked up quite a bit of
anger by the time she sees the attendant reclining on the
porch. She's had to remove her black jacket in the heat,
revealing an olive green dress shirt.
"Hey. Excuse me," she calls to him. "You
put something in my tank that killed my engine."
He puts on an innocent expression. "What?"
"Where's that gas can? I'd like to see it,
please," she says as she turns back toward the gas
pumps where she last saw the container. It's still
sitting where he left it and she hurries to check it out
with the man at her heels. She pours a bit of the liquid
out onto her hand and then smells it. "That's water.
I barely even smell any gasoline," she says
accusingly.
"Oh, God, you're right," he says after taking a
sniff of it as well. "I'm sorry. I... I left it out.
It must have gotten rain in it."
"Oh and it rains a lot here, does it, seeing as how
it's basically the desert?"
"I'm really sorry."
"Yeah. I'm going to use your phone," Scully
says as she starts toward the old building.
"I don't have one," the man says quickly.
Scully faces him, even angrier than before.
"You don't have a phone? So how did you call up the
tanker that was supposed to come here yesterday?"
"There's a phone up the street, Mr. Milsap's place.
He'll help you out," the man says nervously.
Scully walks up the street to a decrepit house and goes
in through a poorly oiled screen door. There doesn't
appear to be anyone around. The walls inside are mostly
bare and the plaster is crumbling, revealing the skeletal
wood slats underneath. There are dusty curtains on the
windows and buckets of paint partially covered by a drop
cloth sitting just inside the front door.
"Hello? Hello?" she calls out as she looks
around. At the top of the stairs that begin right inside
the door appears an old, grandfatherly man. What little
hair he has is white and he wears glasses, which reflect
the sunlight coming in the door behind Scully.
"Hi," Scully greets him.
"Hi."
"Mr. Milsap?" she asks as he comes downstairs.
"Can I help you?"
"Yes, I hope so. My car has stalled up the street
and I was wondering if I could use your phone."
"Sure. It's in here," he says kindly,
indicating a room off to the side of the stairs. On a
huge roll-top desk sits an old-fashioned rotary phone.
Scully leans on the edge of the desk, picks up the
receiver and attempts to dial a couple of times before
setting it back down with force.
"The line's dead."
"Oh, no. Let me see," he says as he takes a
turn at the phone. "Damn phone company. They're
updating the lines, so the service gets interrupted.
It'll come back on."
"How long?" Scully queries impatiently.
"Ten minutes... two days... I could say, but I'd
just be guessing. You're welcome to wait here," the
old man offers. "I could even give you a room, if
you like. This was a boarding house."
"I won't be here that long," Scully answers
decisively. She obviously doesn't trust the man or any of
what's going on and she doesn't feel a need to hide it.
"What the hell is going on here?" she demands
bluntly.
"Sorry?"
"I get the distinct impression that somebody doesn't
want me to leave."
"I don't know anything about that," the old man
answers, a bit offended.
"A bus came through here about an hour ago. Where
did it go?"
"A bus?" he asks incredulously.
"Don't tell me you didn't see it," she dares
him.
"Oh, I think I'd have known if a big bus came
through," the man says with a chuckle. "Are you
sure I can't help you out with a room?" Knowing that
any response she could give would be unnecessarily
impolite, Scully turns and walks out the door.
"It's 18 miles to the state road. Another 20 to
Sugarville," Mr. Milsap says as he follows Scully,
who is halfway down the front steps. "You don't want
to walk it," he tries once more.
Scully takes a deep breath and looks around, her hand on
her stomach. Down the street, she sees a woman entering
another ramshackle house and starts out in that
direction. "Excuse me. Ma'am, excuse me. Ma'am?
Excuse me, ma'am," Scully tries to get the woman's
attention, but to no avail. The woman disappears into the
house and Scully knocks on the door.
"Hello? Ma'am, I need some help." She tries to
open the door, but finds it locked. There is a window
beside the door, which Scully looks through after a
moment. Inside, she can see the woman and a group of
people standing in a circle. They glance up from the book
they're reading when Scully knocks at the window.
"Hello?" she says as the people ignore her and
turn back to their reading.
She can see the old man, Mr. Milsap, watching her from a
distance as she makes her way across the yard to another
house. This one looks like it might have once been a barn
that someone has since added a door and windows to.
"Hello?" Scully looks through another window to
see several people standing in a circle, just like at the
other building. They also ignore her and she sighs as she
sees Mr. Milsap is still watching her. She gives up and
returns to the boarding house. The musty room she is
given in the 'inn' doesn't have electricity; she uses an
oil lamp for light as she sits nervously on the ancient
bed with her gun in her hand.
---
A knock at the door the next morning startles Scully from
her sleep. She quickly grabs her gun off the table by the
bed and aims it at the door.
"Doctor, can I speak to you? It's an
emergency." She sits still for a moment while she
considers, then cautiously opens the door to reveal Mr.
Milsap.
"I'm sorry to bother you," he says even though
Scully hasn't said a word. "There's a man downstairs
who needs help. Please?" Taking another moment to
review her options, she rises and follows him through the
house to another room much like hers.
A heavy-set woman with long, reddish-brown hair is
holding a man down onto a bed. He is suffering through a
violent seizure. Mr. Milsap shows Scully in and she
rushes to the man's side, pushing the older woman away.
"Let go, don't hold him down," she tells her.
"How long has he been seizing?" Scully asks as
she tucks a pillow under the man's head.
"Uh, three... four minutes," the woman tells
her nervously.
"It's okay... you're all right... you're okay,"
Scully soothes the ill man, who seems to calm
considerably. . Scully's eyes widen in recognition as she
takes a moment to look at the mans face. Its
Hank Gulatarski, the missing persons case.
"Where did you find him?" she inquires of Mr.
Milsap and the woman.
"He's a stranger. He wandered into town. He needed
help," the old man answers.
The woman quavers, "Wha... what's wrong with
him?".
"As far as I can tell, he's in status, which is a
continuous seizure state. He doesn't smell like acetone,
which would indicate that he's hyperglycemic, and he
doesn't appear to have any head injuries. He could be
epileptic and just stopped taking his medication,"
Scully goes into detail as she examines the man. Turning
him over, she finds a two-inch circular wound with ragged
edges at the small of his back. It is red and swollen,
seeping blood and trace amounts of mucous.
"How did this happen?" she snaps as she glares
at the two people. They shake their heads worriedly but
Scully isnt convinced.
"Uh-huh. At any rate, we need to get him to a
hospital-- immediately."
The man and woman exchange glances before Scully looks
pointedly at Mr. Milsap.
"I assume your phone's still not working."
"Sorry," he answers.
"Well, do you or one of your friendly neighbors
happen to have a car?" Scully asks.
"No one here has a car," the woman tells her.
Scully stares at them in disbelief. "No cars? Then
why do you need a gas station?"
Mr. Milsap ignores her and turns to the other woman,
seemingly struck by inspiration. "Gloria, couldn't
we send someone to the state road on foot? We could get
them to bring back help."
Gloria seems to think this is an excellent idea and nods
at the old man before turning to Scully. "In the
meantime, please, do anything you can for him."
"All right. Do you have any corn syrup?" Scully
asks with a sigh. Gloria leaves the room and Scully turns
back to the man in the bed while Mr. Milsap watches.
---
Gloria spoons corn syrup from an old and dirty bottle
into Hank's mouth. Scully is sitting, watching
distractedly.
"Am I doing this right?" Gloria asks.
"Yeah, you can hold off now."
"Nothing's happening."
"I'm sorry, but I'm just winging it here. I mean,
raising his blood sugar only helps if his condition is
brought on by hypoglycemia. This could be the result of
any number of things," Scully explains.
"So what do we do?"
"Well, I'm afraid that I've done all that I can do,
unless you know where to get some diazepam or
Phenobarbital other than the nearest hospital--which is
where we should be, of course."
At this point, the sick man starts to regain
consciousness. When she sees this, Scully moves to sit
next to him on the bed.
"Hey, hey. Can you hear me? How are you
feeling?"
"Okay," he answers weakly.
"Thank God. Thank God," Gloria exclaims.
"We were all so scared. What can I do?"
"I think I just need rest," the man answers.
"We should leave him alone," the other woman
tells Scully.
"Can, uh, you stay?" Hank requests as he grabs
Scully's arm. Scully looks at Gloria questioningly.
"I'll go tell everybody," the woman says as she
leaves the room.
"Are you a doctor?" Hank asks Scully.
"Yes, I am," she responds. "We need to
find a way out of here; you have a serious condition and
you need to be in a hospital."
"Thank you for helping me."
"Well, I'm not sure if I've actually done anything.
In fact, I don't even know what's going on with you right
now. Do you know how you got here?"
"Um...."
"You don't remember, do you? " she murmurs,
though he doesn't answer. "What about these people
who have taken you in? Do you know anything about
them?"
"Um, they take good care of me?"
"Yeah, I'll say they take very good care of you. The
sun seems to rise and set on you as far as they're
concerned. In fact, they seem to have stranded me here in
order to nurse you back to health," Scully tells him
bitterly.
"What? Why would they do that?" The man is
shocked; Scully glances furtively at the door to make
sure no one is listening except her patient.
"A murder took place about 20 miles from here; a man
was stoned to death. His head was so badly crushed that
they couldn't identify him from his teeth. It looks like
upwards of a dozen people may have participated according
to the footprints at the crime scene, but only a very
tight-knit group of people would murder together-- for
instance, a cult. And I'd say that these people
qualify."
"What are you, a detective?" he asks.
"I'm a Federal Agent. I came out here looking into
your disappearance. I need to get you out of here, but I
don't know how. Do you think you can walk?"
"I don't know. Kind of weak," he tells her as
he starts to get up from the bed.
"I understand," she says as she helps him rise.
"Hang on a second. Just let me look at something,
okay?"
"Hmmm? All right." He lies on his stomach at
her direction.
Scully peels off the bandaging on Hank's back and
examines his wound. She presses it and fluid seeps out.
"Ahhhhhhh," he moans as she palpates his back
once more, causing him to cry out again.
"Hold on, hold on," she says as she keeps
working. A movement along the man's spine causes Scully
to gasp. To her dismay, Hank starts seizing again as the
strange shape moves up his back toward his head.
Thankfully though, he quiets, and Scully gets a pair of
forceps. She uses them to probe into the wound, grasping
onto the end of the shape. Hank grunts in pain as she
clips off a piece of something that is still squirming
and twitching and the shape once again moves up the man's
spine.
---
Scully, Gloria and Mr. Milsap are watching over a
sleeping Hank, who has a damp cloth draped across his
forehead. Late afternoon sunlight is streaming in through
the shades over the windows.
"Something's happening," the woman points out.
"He's coming to.... Hey, can you hear me? How are
you feeling?" Scully says as she moves to the man's
side.
"I'm alive," he says weakly. "That's a
start."
"Oh, praise God," Gloria says with more
enthusiasm than she's shown before.
"Praise him, praise him," Mr. Milsap adds. The
fervent religious display seems to unnerve Scully a bit.
"What's wrong with me?" Hank quavers. No one
replies and for a few moments everyone is quiet.
"I just need some rest. She can take care of
me," he tells the other two people, indicating
Scully. The old man and the woman leave the room and
Scully closes the door behind them.
"It's lucky they're still listening to you for the
time being," Scully tells Hank as she dampens the
cloth she had on his forehead. "This... wound in
your back seems to be a point of entry for a parasitic
organism that has taken up residence along your spine.
Now, this is something that I am completely uncertain how
to deal with."
"Oh boy," Hank says nervously.
"I don't know how far this extends or how to get it
out of you without harming you."
"Am I dying?" he asks.
"You will die if we cannot treat you properly. These
people don't seem to want to let you go. I think they put
this thing inside of you," she tells the man, who
looks disturbed. "I have no idea what the motives of
these people are--maybe it's some bizarre religious
activity--but they killed the last person who was in your
condition and I'm afraid they're going to try and kill
you, too."
"This is a lot to take in."
"No kidding," Scully agrees.
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to try and get us the hell out of
here," Scully tells him as she looks out a window.
"These people tell me that they have no cars but I
don't believe them. They've got to have transportation
hidden around here somewhere. I'm going to go take a look
around, okay?"
"You're not going to be gone long, right?" Hank
asks.
"I'll be back soon," she tells him as she opens
and climbs out the window.
"The sooner the better," Hank says as there is
a knock at the door. Mr. Milsap and the woman enter the
room.
"Where did she go?" the woman inquires.
"She says I'm dying," Hank tells them. "We
need another swap."
Mr. Milsap and the woman exchange worried looks.
---
A flashlight's beam slices through the darkness of what
appears to be an old barn. Scully looks through a knot in
the wood for a few seconds before opening the door and
entering. She searches for a couple of minutes before
discovering the bus she encountered during her
conversation with Doggett. While she moves in for a
closer look, Hank stumbles into the barn, limping
pitifully with the aid of an antiquated pair of crutches.
Moving to keep the man from falling, Scully asks,
"Hey. How'd you...?" The other cult members
flood the barn, surrounding them both. "You had me
convinced," she tells Hank as she steps back and
reaches for her gun, only to be grabbed from behind by
members of the strange congregation. One of them removes
her sidearm and passes it to Mr. Milsap.
Mr. Milsap steps forward and says, "This is for your
own protection, Doctor. Sometimes the fiercest enemy is
yourself. We mean only to save you."
"I'm a Federal Agent! At this moment, the FBI is
searching for me!" she shouts, trying to get their
attention and struggling against the people holding her.
"They won't find you," Gloria tells her.
"Talk to her," Mr. Milsap says to Hank, who
looks like he's about to collapse.
With a creepy, fevered smile, Hank tells Scully,
"Your life is about to take a wonderful turn. You're
going to become a part of something much, much greater
than you are. You're going to be so loved.
"Amen, amen," Mr. Milsap enthuses.
"Amen, amen," the rest of the group joins in.
Hank painfully gets to his knees. Milsap nods and smiles
at Gloria, who swings a hammer high before letting it
fall, hitting Hank in the head.
"No! Ahhh!!! You son of a bitch!" Scully cries
out as she struggles to free herself from the people who
are holding her captive. Gloria continues to crudely
decapitate Hank while the rest of the group chants an
eerie chorus of 'Amen.
"Amen!" Mr. Milsap says joyously.
"You just murdered him!" Scully yells.
"Amen!" the group says together. "Amen!
Amen! Amen!
Amen! Amen!"
When it is obvious that Hank is dead, the woman pulls
something out of his body -- a large, wriggling creature
about a foot long and covered in mucous. The woman moves
with it in Scully's direction.
"No. No! I'm pregnant! No! No, don't do this! I'm
going to have a baby!" she yells in a panic. It
doesn't help; the people don't even seem to hear her.
"No! Don't do this! No! I'm going to have a
baby!"
"We know," Gloria says reverently.
"No! No! No! No!" Scully cries out as the
people turn her around and pull her shirt up to reveal
her lower back.
---
Each of Scully's limbs are tied to a corner of the bed,
keeping her on her stomach. Several people are watching
her as she groans in pain and Mr. Milsap joins them. He
sets an oil lamp on the small table at the foot of the
bed.
"What did you put in me?!" Scully shouts.
"I'm going to get every last one of you
bastards!"
"No," Mr. Milsap tells her as she groans again.
"You'll love us. You'll protect us. You'll teach us,
make us better than we are. We're taught not to envy, but
I do envy you so. That you'll soon be one with him. You
both will."
"Him? That thing in me is a 'him'?" Scully asks
as the strange shape moves along her spine just as it did
in Hank. Mr. Milsap pats her on the shoulder when she
yells in pain.
"Please. This is such a wonderful, wonderful
thing--for you and your unborn child. That last man just
wasn't a suitable tabernacle. The thing of it is there's
always the chance that your body won't fail him, that
he'll be in you forever," the old man says in an
attempt to soothe Scully. He unclenches one of her bound
hands and wraps her fingers around a small baby rattle.
The bed creaks with her struggles in an eerie syncopation
and the red toy rattles its accompanying rhythm.
"You and your child will be so loved," he
finishes.
In response, Scully just groans and writhes even more
than before.
The headlights of a car illuminate the window, a very
strange occurrence in this community.
"Help! Help! Help!" Scully yells with all her
might before Gloria stuffs a cloth in her mouth.
Mr. Milsap closes the window and takes the rattle from
Scullys hand, placing it on the table beside her.
He and Gloria go out to deal with the stranger, leaving
the gas station attendant to watch over Scully. Kicking
violently, she overturns the oil lamp that was lighting
the room. The man, who had been staring out the window,
rushes to extinguish the flames.
"Help! Help!" Scully yells through the
loosening gag in her mouth. The gas station attendant
replaces it and tightens her bindings before going back
to staring out the window.
Scully's head drops onto the bed. Her writhing slows and
her fingers relax. "I'm sorry Mulder," she
mumbles through her gag as her body stills.
---
"Hey," Doggett startles the gas station man. He
moves quickly to face Doggett, who immediately knocks him
unconscious. Turning, Doggett goes to Scully and sees the
wound in her back.
"What in the hell, Agent Scully?" he asks
worriedly. Scully groans and once again finds the
strength to twist in her bonds. "God almighty. Agent
Scully? Agent Scully?"
She finally gasps in answer as Doggett removes the gag.
"Agent Doggett, get me the hell out of here,"
she weakly demands as he begins untying her.
"Can you walk?"
"I don't know," she says doubtfully. "How
far is your car?"
"It's about a half a mile up the road," he
tells her.
"I know something closer."
---
For once disregarding her need to be totally independent,
Scully allows Doggett to carry her to the bus, where he
places her in a seat close to the front. There she
watches as he removes his jacket and crawls under the
steering wheel.
"Can you hot-wire it?" she asks.
"Can I hot-wire it? I'm going to strand these
lunatics," he answers confidently. "Agent
Scully, talk to me," he demands when Scully groans.
The slug is moving painfully and visibly up her spine
toward her neck.
"You've got to cut it out. Cut it out. Cut it out!
Oh... oh.... It's trying to get into my brain!" she
yells. "Cut it out of me now!"
She puts her hand on her neck in an attempt to keep it
from moving any farther. Doggett seems to hesitate as the
slug moves again. The agents hear the cult members
entering the barn to beat against the windows of the bus.
This seems to spur Doggett into action and he moves
behind Scully again as she screams once more.
"Aah! Just do it, Doggett!"
Finally the knife slices through her skin, causing Scully
to scream in even more pain. After several obviously
agonizing seconds of digging around in her back with the
knife, Doggett pulls the creature out while the group
starts prying the bus door open. From the corner of her
eye, Scully sees Doggett throw the slug as hard as he can
to the floor of the bus and shoot it three times.
Mr. Milsap breaks through the door and starts to point
Scully's gun at the agents until he realizes that the
creature is dying. Gloria enters behind him and screams
at the sight. Scully watches without pity as the group
mourns.
---
From the journal of Dana Scully
Looking back at all the moments we've shared over the
years, it's a miracle we're here at all, Mulder; yet
there are still so many places our paths have yet to take
us. I need you to share this new path with me. To sail
this uncharted course with you by my side.
Scully jolts awake in her bed, shivering and sweaty.
Sunlight filters through her window.
Time. Too much of it to see where we're going, not
enough to dwell on where we've been.
Scully rises from the bed on unsteady feet, grabs the
blue robe and walks into the bathroom where she splashes
water on her face. She steps into the kitchen, turns on
the light and grabs a bottle of water.
That I should know your heart is my greatest comfort
against this nightmare born from one of my deepest
fears-- being alone.
She glances to her stomach.
But we are not alone.
Turning around she faces the phone and the calendar on
the wall. Placing the bottle on the counter she picks up
the gift bag from her mother and retrieves a business
card. Holding the phone in one hand and the card in the
other she dials, waits for the call to connect, and
begins speaking.
"Yes? This is Dana Scully. I need to make an
appointment with Dr. Alyssa Jones. Yes, I'll hold."
Looking down to retrieve her water, Scully spies a
foreign object on the counter -- a small, bright red baby
rattle.
---
End.
---
Credits: Some words and themes in Scully's diary entries
have come by way of the voiceovers in Memento Mori, All
Things, and Emily. Those V.O.s, and the transcript this
AS8 episode is based on, all came from TinyDancer's
Script Archive.
Props to Kevin Smith and Dar Williams and you, the
reader, if you caught what we copped. :)
All sources used with love, if not permission.
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