


 Alone



Calvert Cliffs Park
Southern Maryland
April 25th, 2:10 p.m.

It is a clear, bright, beautiful day. Birds are singing and
the wind is blowing through the trees of a dense forest. The
canopy is so thick, the sunlight barely filters through onto
a well-traveled path. Into the midst of this idyll intrudes
the sound of arguing voices, one male and the other, female.

"I thought we agreed to make a day of it!" exclaims the man.

"No, Stephen, I agreed to spend the day with you--not you
and Mother Nature," she shoots back. The sarcasm of her tone
as well as the words themselves make it clear that she is
quite upset.

"You know, Sarah, I'd think you would be grateful. I took
time off...."

"Time off? Hah! A busman's holiday is more like it! I saw
you reading the paper this morning!" she accuses, continuing
on despite his attempts to protest. "You're still pissed
about missing out on the safari--all those missed
opportunities to film 'big game'"--here she makes quotation
marks in the air with her fingers--"going after the kill!
And now you're hoping to catch a glimpse of that big bear
everyone's talking about!"

"I hope to catch more than just a glimpse," he says, tapping
the compact video camera hanging from a strap around his
neck. "And it may not be a bear."

They have reached the head of the trail, and their SUV is
within view. "Well, as far as I'm concerned, I might as well
have been on my own all day!" she throws over her shoulder.
"And if you want to go back out there and get your precious
photos, that's how you're going to have to do it! Alone!"

By now they have reached the SUV. Stephen unlocks it by
remote, and his

companion jerks open the door and throws herself in.

He starts to turn away.

"Keys," she snaps.

He turns back and digs them out of his pocket in silence,
then hands them over. He opens his mouth to speak, but she
slams the door and rolls down the window. He stares at her
in silence, then sighs and lifts the camera to his eyes.

"Hey, gorgeous," he says, thumbing the camera on. "Aw,
Sarah, come on," he says ruefully.

She looks at him stonily and then deliberately turns to look
out the windshield without answering.

Stephen turns the camera back off and starts back up the
trail.

The bushes move as he brushes past them.

In the SUV, Sarah puts the keys in the ignition, then turns
on the radio and catches the tail end of a song. She settles
back to listen as the news comes on.

"Good afternoon. Its 2:15, and this is Rafe Hite with your
Front Royal news minute on WZRV."

Meanwhile, Stephen starts to jog down the trail in an
attempt to run off some of his frustration. He cradles his
camera in one hand as he does so to keep it from banging
against his chest. He covers the ground fairly rapidly and
enters a clearing, where he stops.

The man is slightly winded; he bends at the waist and puts
his hands on his knees to breathe heavily, the camera
swinging from his neck.

Back in the SUV, Sarah listens to the news.

"And finally, there is still no word what kind of animal is
on the loose in Calvert Cliffs Park. A representative of the
park says several deer and one bear have been discovered
partially eaten, but attempts to track the beast responsible
for the killings have been in vain."

She turns to look out through the open window toward the
trail, the look on her face a mixture of pensiveness,
frustration, and concern.

"And now, another hour of non-stop requests on your station
for oldies, WZRV." There is a brief pause, and the next song
begins:

There was a man
A lonely man
Who lost his love
Through his indifference

Sarah leans back in her seat and closes her eyes, her face a
study in indecision.

In the clearing, Stephen straightens up and looks around,
noticing that everything has grown quiet: the birds are no
longer singing, and even the breeze seems to have died down.

"Sarah?" he calls. He can still just hear the radio in the
distance.

A heart that cared
That went unshared
Until it died
Within his silence....

Suddenly alert, and receiving no response to his call,
Stephen turns in a slow circle, nervously scanning the woods
about him. He reaches down absently and turns the video
camera back on.

A sound of crackling in the bushes startles a panicked sound
from him,

and Stephen turns sharply in that direction, his eyes
darting from bush to bush. His hand goes to the camera at
his neck, but he makes no move to take a picture. He sees
nothing. More crackling sounds issue to his right, and
closer now. He darts out of the clearing down the path.

As Sarah opens the door of the SUV and climbs out, her
fiancs voice

screams her name in the distance. "Stephen?" she calls,
running toward the path.

The SUV door jiggles back and forth slightly as it settles
on its hinge in an open position. "Stephen!"

Stephen runs headlong down the path, his camera swinging
crazily and banging against his chest, back, and shoulder.

And solitaires the only game in town
And every road that takes him takes him down

His eyes wild, his breath coming in harsh bursts, Stephen
shoves the larger branches out of his way as he runs
heedlessly along, smaller ones slapping at his face and
legs. The larger crashing sounds behind him seem to be
gaining.

He rounds a curve and Sarah comes into view, frowning in
concern.

"Get back to the car!" he cries. The open door to the SUV is
within her reach, but she merely stands and stares, looking
beyond him, her eyes wide.

"Sarah--get back in the car!" he yells, still running
towards her.

She continues to stare, frozen in terror.

A huge dark shape leaps upon Stephen from behind.

The camera swings wildly, recording a confusion of movement:
Sarah, her eyes and mouth open wide in a silent scream. The
slightly tanned skin of Stephens hands, raised in defense.
A glimpse of dark, shaggy fur. claws, teeth, an odd, lithe
tail lashing too quickly to be seen clearly.

Sarah scrambles into the vehicle and slams the door after
her. She is hyperventilating.

"Stephen...Stephen...."

The camera records the ground rushing up with a bang, then
all is black. The final words of the song echo with Sarahs
scream into the woods.

While life goes on around him everywhere
Hes playing solitaire....

***

A. D. Skinner's Office
April 26th, 7:58 a.m.

Assistant Director Walter Skinner looks at Scully with a
melancholy expression on his face. She shifts her position
slightly, her bulk at odds with the narrow confines of the
chair.

"Can I get you anything? A glass of water?" he offers.

Scully looks up. "No, thank you," she replies rather
abruptly. Realizing her answer sounds a little sharp, she
tempers her response with a lower, "I'm fine. Really."

Skinner nods and clears his throat. "They should be here
shortly."

As he moves to press the intercom button, the office door
opens. Agent Doggett steps in and nods at Scully in greeting
as he moves to take the chair beside her. He unbuttons his
jacket and smoothes his tie. He looks first at Skinner, then
back at Scully. An uneasy tension fills the room.

Scully makes an attempt to remain still, but one tapered
nail taps nervously on the arm of the chair. Her eyes are
fixed on a point somewhere behind Skinner.

Doggett breaks the strained silence. "So, what's up?"

"Agent Doggett, as you are aware, Agent Scullys maternity
leave commences today and upon due consideration, it has
been determined that in the interim, you will be assigned a
partner."

Perturbed, Doggett protests. "With all due respect, sir, I
don't need a partner while Agent Scully is away."

Skinner continues over Doggett's objection. "As I said, Ive
assigned a partner to you...." He reaches for the intercom
button; again his intent is disrupted as a tinny voice
informs him the replacement agent has arrived. He
acknowledges the message and, in a few long strides, crosses
to the door.

He opens the door to usher in a woman of medium height in
her mid-twenties. Her ash blonde hair frames a friendly,
intelligent face. Blue eyes quickly look over the occupants
of the room.

Skinner shepherds her over to Doggett, who has risen from
his seat. "Agent John Doggett, this is Agent Leyla Harrison.
She will be your partner for the duration of Agent Scullys
leave."

Doggett nods briskly and offers his hand. Harrison gives it
a firm shake, a smile on her face. "Agent Doggett, nice to
meet you."

"Agent Harrison." Doggetts manner is cool and reserved.

Skinner continues the introductions. "This is Agent Dana
Scully, the senior agent in the X-Files division."

Scully makes a move to rise, but Harrison quickly waves her
off. "Please, dont get up. Nice to meet you, Agent Scully."
She extends her hand and Scully shakes it briefly, settling
back into her seat with a grateful sigh.

"Thank you."

Harrisons smile grows a bit wider as she continues to gaze
at Scully.

Scully inclines her head briefly, her right eyebrow on the
rise. "Im sorry, have we met?"

"No. No, you dont know me. But...I know you. That is, I
know of you," she begins, briefly rattled. Recovering her
composure, Harrison continues. "Im sorry, its just...."
She smiles apologetically. "I know of you and your
work...from one particular case."

Scully prompts her, curious now. "And that case would be?"

"About five years ago--Comity, New Hampshire--the death of a
teenager."

A hint of color appears in Scullys cheeks. "I see," she
murmurs. "How is it youre familiar with the case, Agent
Harrison?"

"Before I transferred, I was assigned to the New Hampshire
field office," Harrison says helpfully.

The color in Scullys face deepens a little.

Harrison continues, unaware of Scullys discomfiture. "It
was a little slow there sometimes and I read the case files.
It really intrigued me. The, uh, positing of the theory of
the effect that unseen forces may have on our lives."

Scullys expression is carefully neutral.

Doggett makes a noise of exasperation. "Oh, for..." he
mutters.

"I never thought I would find phenomena like that so
interesting..." Harrisons voice trails off uncertainly.

Skinner draws their attention by motioning to the empty
chair Doggett has vacated. "Agent Harrison, please be
seated." Harrison takes the seat offered, and Skinner
reseats himself behind his desk. "If we can get down to
business."

Doggett remains standing near the edge of Skinners desk,
his arms crossed.

Skinner shuffles through the papers on the desk before him,
but before he starts to speak, Doggett brusquely interrupts.
"Excuse me, sir. Not that I need a temporary partner--" he
glances significantly at Skinner and, despite a glare of
warning from the A.D., continues, "--but what are your
qualifications, Agent Harrison?"

Unfazed, Harrison coolly replies, "Ive been with the Bureau
for almost two years. As I mentioned, I was assigned to the
New Hampshire field office. I just recently moved to D. C
and heard of the opening in the X-Files division. I applied
for the position and got it."

Skinner has heard enough. "Agent Harrisons qualifications
are not up for discussion. This is not a fact-finding
committee. She is temporarily attached to the X-Files and
will remain so until this office decides otherwise."

This last is directed to Doggett, who nods in reluctant
acknowledgement.

Satisfied, Skinner rises from his chair. "Welcome to D.C.,
Agent Harrison. Im certain Agent Doggett will do everything
in his power to make your transition seamless." He looks
pointedly at the male agent.

"Of course, sir." A hint of sarcasm laces Doggetts overly
innocent agreement.

Skinner ignores it. "That will be all, agents."

"Thank you, sir. I have to stop by Personnel and will meet
up with Agent Doggett directly," Harrison responds as she
rises from her seat.

As Scully levers herself into a standing position, Skinner
and Doggett both move as if to help. A look from her halts
their motions. "Im going to clean out my desk," she says to
no one in particular.

Scully and Harrison leave the office.

Doggett turns to Skinner, but the A.D.s expression
forestalls any comment and, resigned, he exits the room.

***

X-Files Office
8:20 a.m.

Scully sits behind her desk. A medium-sized bankers box
bears the fruits of her wistful, methodical examination of
the contents of each drawer.

Doggett enters the office. Scully glances up from her
sorting and acknowledges his presence with a brief nod. She
puts a laser pointer in the box alongside a well-read copy
of Jose Chungs From Outer Space.

Doggett stops in the middle of the room, hands shoved in his
pockets. He notices she is packing a lot for what is to be a
temporary leave. "So," he offers. "This is it."

Scully pauses in her packing and surveys the top of the
desk, cluttered with files, crumpled Post-Its, and
miscellaneous odds and ends.

She pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yes," she
sighs. "It is."

She adds a tree-shaped air freshener to the contents of the
carton as Doggett awkwardly moves a little closer.

"Must seem strange," he says with forced cheerfulness,
waving his hand toward the littered surface. "I mean,
packing to leave."

Scully fits the lid to the top of the box. "Very strange,"
she replies distractedly as she begins to gather the
scattered files.

Doggett stops her. "Ill clean that up if youre finished,"
he says.

Scully smiles gratefully. "Thanks."

She looks slowly around the small office, her wistful gaze
coming to rest on the "I Want To Believe" poster. Her eyes
moisten as she stands before it.

Doggett watches her introspection silently.

A moment later, Scully takes a deep breath, squares her
shoulders and turns. She takes her coat from the back of her
chair and shrugs into it. Walking around the desk, she stops
a short distance from Doggett. "I, uh...I wanted to thank
you, Agent Doggett. For your help, for..." she begins
hesitantly. She puts her hands in her coat pockets. The
faint jingle of keys can be heard as she fingers them
nervously.

He waves off her remark. "No thanks necessary. Its what
partners do for each other. And, hey, its not like this is
permanent. Youll be back before you know it. Right?"

A small, cryptic smile is Scullys only reply as she picks
up the box and, with a final glance around the room, walks
out the door.

As he listens to the sound of her footsteps rhythmically
fading down the hall, Doggett realizes she never answered
his question. His face shows his disappointment. His
eyebrows wrinkle in thought and his shoulders slump a little
as he faces an office that seems to mock him with its
silence.

He walks to the desk and picks up the pile of folders,
refusing to dwell on Scullys unspoken answer, then crosses
to the row of file cabinets and yanks open a drawer.

He turns with a smile at the sound of heels approaching the
office. "Hey, that didnt take long. Did you forget
something?"

Agent Harrison appears in the doorway. She smiles in apology
at the crestfallen expression on his face. "Sorry, Agent
Doggett. Just me."

She hands him a plain manila folder. "I ran into A.D.
Skinner on my way down here. Hes given us a new case and
said if we have any questions, we were to give him a call."

"Thanks." Doggett takes the folder and scans the contents.

After a few minutes of perusal, Agent Harrison reminds him
of her presence. "Agent Doggett? The case?"

Doggett looks up. "Yeah, its, uh, a missing persons
investigation. A man by the name of Stephen Andrews, who was
hiking in Calvert Cliffs Park, Maryland. His fiancee was
with him, says he was attacked. Shes reported him missing."

"Is it an X-File?"

He abruptly closes the file and hands it to Harrison. "Its
a missing persons case, Agent Harrison. Weve only been
called in because the crime scene is in a national park. Im
going to requisition a car." He brushes past her.

Harrison leans out the door. "Ill meet you in the garage,"
she calls after him. Doggett does not respond.

"Okay," she mutters as she flips off the lights and strides
purposefully down the hall.

***

Scullys Apartment
11:40 a.m.

Mulder watches as Scully walks once again from the kitchen
to the bedroom. "Three," he murmurs.

She has been a blur of motion since arriving and Mulder is
getting tired just watching her. She travels from the front
of the apartment to the back and all points in between.
Several times.

As she completes her fourth trip, he cannot hold back any
longer. "Scully, youre gonna wear out the floor if you keep
going back and forth like that. I dont know how to replace
a floor, Scully. I watch Oprah, not Bob Vila."

She continues to putter in the kitchen, re-wiping counters
already cleaned within an inch of their collective lives,
straightening canisters that look as if a ruler has been
used for alignment.

Drying her hands on a dishtowel, she walks slowly to the
living room. "Im just straightening up a little, Mulder.
What with the desiccated remains of your sunflower seeds,
empty iced tea glasses, and the inexplicable lack of
knowledge you appear to have as to the location of the
laundry hamper, the clutter would overwhelm me in no time if
I didnt." Finished, she tosses the towel onto the kitchen
table, where it lands in a small, disheveled heap.

Mulder grins at the contradiction as she lowers herself onto
the couch beside him.

He bumps her shoulder lightly with his. "A little clutter is
good for the soul."

Scully returns the gesture, smirking. "Then you should be
ready for sainthood."

"Really, Scully, you okay? Youve been...how shall I put
this so you dont feel the urge to move my nose to the back
of my head?"

"Dont tempt me, Mulder," she warns.

"Full of excess energy, nervous, antsy, unable to sit still
for more than two seconds," he continues as if she hasnt
spoken. He gives her a sideways look. "Youre not doing that
nesting thing, are you?"

"No. No nesting," she reassures him. She takes a steadying
breath before continuing. "Its just...ever since I left the
office this morning, Ive felt funny. I just dont feel
right."

She brushes off his look of concern. "I mean, I feel
like...I dont know...like Im shirking somehow, jumping
ship or...or, playing hooky." She raises her hands in a
helpless gesture and then clasps them loosely in her lap,
worrying a thumbnail.

Mulder chuckles. "Hooky, Scully? You? You never played hooky
a day in your life. Am I right?"

At her chagrined shrug, he continues, his voice lower, all
traces of humor gone. "Youve paid your dues, Scully. Too
many times above and beyond. Now its time for someone else
to take over for a while."

"I know that. I really do. But it still feels bizarre."

He grabs the TV remote from the coffee table. "Well, here,
if you want bizarre, its time for Jerry Springer."

She snatches it away, holding it out to the side, out of his
reach. "Mulder, no. Absolutely no Jerry Springer."

Mulder breathes an exaggerated sigh.

"Besides," she continues easily, "Ive got something in mind
that should easily keep you occupied for the next couple of
hours, if not longer."

***

Calvert Cliffs Park
11:40 a.m.

A lush green carpet of grass borders the narrow road that
leads into the asphalt parking lot. With the exception of a
park service pickup and two featureless sedans, the area is
empty.

The bureau car pulls into the space beside the pickup.

Doggett and Harrison exit the vehicle and walk toward the
tree line a short distance away.

A park ranger stands near the trailhead waiting for the two
agents.

Yellow caution tape stretches across the path; one end is
tied to a nearby tree and the other to a white arrow atop a
signpost that indicates the cordoned-off route is the Green
Trail.


As they approach, Doggett holds up his identification.
"Agent Doggett from the FBI, this is Agent Harrison."

The ranger shakes Doggetts hand and nods to Harrison.
"Thanks for coming out. Im Albert Schenck. This section of
the park is my responsibility." He holds up the flimsy
barrier for them to pass under.

Harrison goes first, case folder and pen in hand, then waits
for the two men to join her.

"How long have you worked in this particular area?" Doggett
questions as he ducks under the tape.

"About seven years." Schenck follows and motions at the
mushy path leading into the forest. "This is actually the
crime scene, but the other investigators are down this way."
Doggett and Harrison glance around at the markers placed on
the ground and carefully step around them as they follow
Schenck down the trail.

Clustered stands of poplar, maple and oak trees burgeoning
with spring foliage crowd the edges of the path. As they
slowly progress along the trail, the waist-high undergrowth
of bushes and wild grass bordering the route becomes denser.

"What happened out here yesterday?" Doggett asks.

"Well, I was making my rounds and noticed this Explorer in
the parking lot with the radio going. I walked over to check
it out and found the woman inside, just staring out the
windshield. When I spoke to her she jumped--I thought she
was going to go right through the roof. She started crying,
said something attacked her boyfriend."


Doggett interrupts. "According to the police report the
woman said there had been an argument."

"Yeah, he, uh, wanted to see if he could find some kind of
monster rumored to be mutilating animals in the park. She
wanted to leave."

"Monster. Check," Doggett says skeptically, glancing at
Harrison, who is listening closely. He urges the ranger to
continue. "Go on."

"I talked her out of the car, followed her up the trail a
ways didnt see or hear anything. She was hysterical,
screaming and such, so I called the police."

The ranger stops walking. "The cops from Prince Frederick
came out to help search yesterday until it got dark. We
didnt find anything. My supervisor called you guys in."

Schenck indicates two men several yards ahead on the trail.
"The tall guy is Detective Connors, a cop from Prince
Frederick. The other guy is one of yours, an Agent
Matthews," he explains as the trio resumes their walk.

"Hey, found anything?" Doggett calls out.

Matthews looks up and makes a half-hearted gesture at the
surroundings. "We started back there at the scene, weve
been clear up the trail and were working our way back. The
grounds awfully soft. As near as I can tell, he got this
far and then his tracks get mixed in with something else."

As Doggett engages in conversation with Matthews, their low
tones volleying back and forth, Harrison wanders a short
distance from the group, searching the undergrowth along the
path. After a few moments of careful inspection, she happens
upon a narrow, partially hidden trail that veers off into
the woods. She walks slowly along the trampled groove, the
remnants of last falls leaves, soft and spongy underfoot.
It leads her deeper into the forest.

After a few moments of quiet conversation with Matthews, he
notices Harrisons absence and looks around the scene. He
sees her moving slowly through the forest. "Agent Harrison?"
he calls out.

She looks back to the group. "Huh? Oh." She waves in
acknowledgement. "Yeah, Im just checking over here."

The trail widens slightly and a small patch of upturned
earth, the leaves and grass scraped away, catches her
attention. She peers closely at an indentation in the soft
mud.

She motions to the park ranger. "Ranger Schenck, what kind
of print is this?"

The ranger leaves the group and joins her, looking at the
ground where she is pointing. He scrutinizes the muddy
impression. "I dont know. It, uh, looks like it could be
some kind of big cat. But we dont have any kind of animal
in the park that could make that." He moves aside as Doggett
leans around him to get a look.

"I dont see any footprints our hiker wouldve made,"
Doggett observes.

"Is this a public trail? Where does it lead?" she asks.

The ranger shakes his head. "Its not a public trail, no.
Deer couldve made it, I think. It looks like it heads
toward the wildlands."

"Wildlands?"

"Yeah, an area of the park, about a thousand acres or so,
thats restricted to public use. Its way off the main
trail."

Harrison nods and resumes her exploration. She is several
feet away from them when she stops. She squats down and
pulls a plastic bag from the pocket of her jacket. Using a
small stick, she scrapes a glob of something from the ground
into the bag.

"Tell me about the trail," Doggett says, breaking the
silence as Harrison walks back. "Does it get much use?"

"Not a whole lot this time of year. Its still early in the
season."

"So this time of the year, its conceivable those two people
were the only ones on the trail at the time of the
incident."

"Yes, sir, its possible."

"How long is this trail? Could someone get lost walking it?"

"It circles about four miles through the park. Pretty hard
to get lost if you stay on the trail."

Harrison stops in front of the ranger and holds up the bag.
An opaque, gelatinous substance is smeared inside. "Do you
know what this is?"

Schenck looks closely. "No, I sure dont," he says after a
moment.

Doggett motions for them to leave and the two agents start
back toward the main trail. Schenck doesnt follow. He
glances first at the indentation in the ground then looks
farther down the narrow path.

Neither Harrison nor Doggett takes notice.

As they are walking, Harrison hands the bag to Doggett. "I
found this a little farther down, along with what looks
another print."

Doggett scrutinizes the contents. "It might just be from
something that lives in these woods."

"The ranger cant identify this stuff or the print. Whatever
it is, it doesnt belong and might have something to do with
our hiker."

"I think youre reaching a little," he says over his
shoulder.

Harrison follows, moving quickly to keep up with Doggetts
long strides. "It cant hurt to have the lab take a look at
it. We dont have much else to go on at this point," she
says stubbornly.

Agent Matthews, hearing the conversation, comes over to join
them. He hands an identical bag to Doggett. "Found that
splattered on a tree near the spot where our missing
persons footprints end. And this." He takes a bagged video
camera from Detective Connors and passes it to Doggett as
well. "The witness said her boyfriend had a camera. Maybe it
caught something useful."

"Theres some kind of print on that path. Could you get a
photo and maybe a casting?" Harrison asks Matthews, pointing
back to where the ranger is still standing.

Doggett frowns, turning the bagged camera over in his hands.

Matthews nods. "Ill see what I can do," he says as he walks
away from them.

Doggett hands the samples to Harrison. "Take these to the
lab when we get back to D.C., since you think its
important. Ill touch base with Skinner."

"I can do some research on this area. If theres something
here, Ill find it," she says confidently.

"You sound awful sure."

"I was very proficient when I investigated the white collar
cases in New Hampshire."

"I thought your file said you were a field agent. You rode a
desk?" he says disbelievingly.

"Well, actually, the only time I went out in the field was
to gather files and records. The rest was spent analyzing
paper trails, background research, things of that nature."

Doggett is exasperated. "Skinner said you were qualified."

"I am. I went through the same training you did. I just
havent had an opportunity to put it to actual use," she
says defensively.

Doggett stalks off. "Great, just great," he mutters. "A
green agent."

***

Scullys Apartment
Midday

Scully sits on the sofa with piles of clean laundry
surrounding her. Wood pieces for some project are scattered
on the carpet to the right of the sofa. She is dressed
casually in tan pants and a navy blue tunic and folds a
towel with a faint smile on her face.

The phone rings, and she drops the towel onto her lap,
looking about in consternation. There is no way she will be
able to climb up out of the sofa in time to reach the
phone--if she could find the phone in the first place.

Mulder passes behind the sofa, wearing jeans and a dark
brown pullover. He hands her the cordless phone and she
smiles her thanks. As she thumbs the "talk" button, he
continues around the sofa and stops, looking at the coffee
table with his head tilted to one side.

He somehow manages to nudge the piles of laundry aside
enough to put two drinking glasses on the table, one near
Scully's knees and one at the right end, where he settles
down on the floor, puts on his reading glasses, and turns
his attention to the pile of wood pieces, rubbing his hands
together as though he cannot wait to get started.

"Hello," Scully says into the phone.

Mulder picks up a piece of paper, which grows to map--sized
proportions as he unfolds it. He holds it up, obscuring his
face for a moment, then turns it over and upside down with a
maximum of crumpling sounds.

In the office, Doggett sits heavily in his desk chair and
tilts it back as he speaks into the phone. "Agent Scully,
this is John Doggett. Sorry to call you at home like this."
He picks up a pen and taps it on the manila file on his
desk. "Enjoying your time off?"

He waves Harrison to the other desk, but she ignores him,
preferring to roam the office instead, picking up items on
the shelves and examining articles and photos on the walls.
When she reaches the "I Want to Believe" poster, she smiles
slightly.

"Just killing time until we have to leave for Lamaze class,"
Scully says brightly. "So, why did you call?"

"Well, Agent Harrison and I were assigned a case--a series
of animal mutilations in a national park a couple hours from
here, and a hiker went missing yesterday. They thought it
was some kinda animal, but there was some trace evidence the
lab techs here can't make heads or tails out of. I was
hoping maybe you might have some idea where to go next."

"You need me to come in?"

Mulder puts the pieces of wood down with a clunk and turns
to look at Scully quizzically.

"No, no--no need for that. You're on leave, Agent Scully."

"Do you have the lab report there?" There is a beep in the
background, and Mulder rises from his place on the floor.

"Yeah, and I'm faxing you a copy." Doggett places the phone
between his chin and shoulder and opens the file folder.
"But I got my copy right here."

Scully turns to Mulder but he is already at her elbow with a
pad and pen and the fax. She darts him a quick glance
beneath lifted eyebrows and he grins, and then makes room
for himself on the couch to sit next to her and read over
her shoulder.

Scully scans the diagrams on the fax. "But--I don't
understand. Is this from multiple samples?"

"No, Agent Scully, why?"

"There are combinations here--a venom like that found in
cobras, for example, but mixed with what looks to be
saliva."

"Don't cobras spit their venom, blind their prey?"

"Yes, but there's no saliva involved. The venom is never
actually in the mouth. And--cobras? In Virginia? And in
these quantities?"

"Stranger things have happened. In fact, the witness's
statement is pretty strange."

"There was a witness?" Scully asks.

"Two, actually. A videotape that was too damaged to be of
much use--and the victim's fiance. Also not of much use."

"What did she see?" Scully is still frowning over the fax.

"Shes still in the hospital under sedation, but someone was
able to interview her briefly last night. She described the
attacker--but I dunno, Agent Scully...."

"What?"

Doggett takes a deep breath. "Well--she said it was like a
man, but it wasnt a man. It was on all fours and had a
furry body and wings.

Scully drops her pen onto the pad where she has been taking
notes. "A man with a furry body and wings."

Beside her, Mulder seizes the notepad and scribbles
furiously.

"Yeah. Oh, and a tail with a stinger on it."

Scully glances down at the notepad, which Mulder has just
shoved back into her hands. Beneath her precise notes are
two words in his bolder script, underlined twice. Scorpion
tail?

She raises her head and looks at him. "Like--a scorpion?"
she asks haltingly.

Mulder's face becomes even more animated when he hears
Doggett's tinny voice through the receiver. "Yeah, like a
scorpion."

Scully tilts the phone so that Mulder can share it and sits
in silence, listening. "Doggett, this is Mulder."

Doggett leans back even farther in his chair. "Hey, Mulder--
I was just filling Agent Scully in on this case...."

At the word "Mulder," Harrison turns from her perusal of an
article on the wall with a slightly amused look on her face.

"It's a manticore," Mulder interrupts.

"A what?"

"It sounds like it could be a manticore," he relents.

"A manticore." Behind him, Harrison gives a start. Doggett
leans forward and braces his forehead on his hand. "And
what, pray tell, is a manticore?"

Both Mulder and Harrison begin to speak at once, bombarding
Doggett with a confusion of sound and information.

"A creature with all the best parts of a man, a lion, an
eagle, and a scorpion, all tied up in one neat, if very
scary, package," Mulder explains.

"It's got a red face like a man's, wings like an eagle, a
tail with a sting, and the body of a lion. And it eats human
flesh," Harrison puts in.

"Hang on a second, Mulder. Where did you learn about
manticores, Agent Harrison?"

"I minored in classics in college."

"Classics." He considers this for a moment. "Wait a minute.
*Wait* a *minute*! Mulder, are you tellin' me we're looking
for a *mythological creature*?"

"Apparently not," Mulder responds wryly.

Doggett sighs. "Hang on, I'll put you on speakerphone."

"Agent Mulder?" Harrison begins.

"It's just 'Mulder' now, Agent Harrison."

Abashed, she tries again. "Mr. Mulder--have you ever run
across anything like this before?" She casts a glance at the
row of file cabinets lining one wall.

"No, I'm afraid not." Her face falls. "Though there are
several cases with other unusual creatures that might be
useful."

"Okay, where do I start?" she asks, turning to face the
files again.

"Try--the drawer marked 'C,' under 'Creatures,
Unidentified,'" he suggests.

Doggett rolls his eyes, but Harrison darts forward and
begins pawing through the drawer he mentioned. "Why not 'A'
for 'Attacks'?" she asks.

"Why not 'O' for 'out of your mind'?" Doggett mutters under
his breath.

"Ran out of room--there are two 'A' drawers just on aliens,"
Mulder responds matter-of-factly.

Scully shakes her head and tries, unsuccessfully, to hide a
smile.

In the office, Doggett buries his face in his hand and blows
out an exasperated breath, but Harrison takes this in stride
and continues rifling the file cabinet.

Scully clears her throat. "We need to get going, Agent
Doggett."

"Okay," Doggett says, rubbing his eyes with a thumb and
forefinger.

"Call us if you need anything," Mulder volunteers.

"Uh huh. Oh, and Agent Scully...." He lifts his head.

"Yes?"

"Just remember to keep breathing." He disconnects the call
and looks over at Harrison, who is poring over the file in
her hand, several others tucked under her arm.

In her apartment, Scully and Mulder hang up as well. She
looks at him speculatively. "All the *best* parts, Mulder?"

***

Calvert Cliffs Park
Late afternoon

Agents Doggett and Harrison pull up in their bureau-issued
car. Doggett is driving; Harrison has her nose buried in a
red-striped file. Doggett stops the car and turns to look at
her, but she makes no move to get out. He huffs impatiently.

"Agent Harrison." There is no response. "Agent Harrison," he
says more sharply. She looks up from her reading, answering
him only with a cool gaze.

"We're here." With this he gets out of the car, slamming the
door behind him. She climbs out more slowly, stuffing papers
back into the file.

"Where is he?" She shrugs and continues shuffling papers.
Doggett stands with his hands on his hips, scanning the
area. "I thought you told him we were on our way," he
mutters.

"You know I did," she responds. "I called him from the car."

"Well, he obviously didn't understand the urgency of the
situation," Doggett drawls, "seeing as how he's got a
*mythological creature* on the loose in his park."

Harrison tosses the file in on the seat. "Why don't you just
say what you mean, Agent Doggett?"

"And what's that?"

"That you don't think I'm qualified to serve as your partner
because I majored in history and minored in ancient
civilizations instead of beating the streets in--where was
it you served again? New York?"

"I already *have* a partner, Agent Harrison."

"Who isn't here."

"No," he replies with obvious regret. "No, she isn't."

There is a long pause, laced with anger, as they stare at
one another.

"Just answer me this, Agent Doggett," Harrison says, her
voice too calm. "Is it me personally you object to, or
having any temporary partner at all?"

"Nothing personal," Doggett replies. "It can just get
dangerous out here, and--"

"Thank you," she snaps, holding up a hand to forestall
anything further. "You've answered my question."

With that, she closes the door on the passenger side of the
car harder than necessary and stalks off down the path in
the direction of the crime scene. Doggett stares after her
for a moment, then follows, digging his cellphone out of his
coat.

The display informs him that there is no service in the
area.

***

Horizon Pregnancy Care Center
Late afternoon

Scullys Lamaze class is held in a large, bright, airy room.
Mulder and Scully walk in and are greeted by the instructor
and several class members. When they reach a free space on
the perimeter of the room, Mulder helps Scully lower herself
to the floor, drops the pillow next to her, and takes his
place at her back.

"Today were going to practice controlling our breathing and
blood pressure," the instructor says from her place at the
front of the room.

"What, no movies?" Mulder quips in an undertone to Scully.
She continues to face forward, and he misses her smirk.

"And then well finish up with a video of a water birth,"
the instructor continues.

Mulder groans. "Payback for one too many cattle mutilations,
huh, Scully?" he asks. Several couples nearby turn to look
at him quizzically. Scully simply stares straight ahead.

***

Calvert Cliffs Park
Late afternoon

Harrison and Doggett work the area around the crime scene
separately, crisscrossing from one side of the path to the
other, following their own lines of thought in relative
silence. They rarely look at one another and do not speak
even when Harrison straightens up from examining a fallen
log and steps back onto Doggett's foot. He merely steps back
out of her way and allows her to pass in front of him.

They continue to work, but their faces show the strain of
this uncomfortable working environment. Harrison looks
somewhat hurt, while Doggett merely appears frustrated.

The sky sympathizes, and a light rain begins to fall.

***

Horizon Pregnancy Care Center
Early evening

The Lamaze class is breaking up. As the members gather their
supplies and leave the room in couples and small groups,
they chat amiably, several waving their farewells to Mulder
and Scully, who walk out together. Their faces are more
relaxed than they were an hour ago.

As they approach the car, Scully unlocks the doors by
remote, then tosses Mulder the keys. He catches them,
looking surprised.

"I figure you know where to get the best Tex-Mex," she
explains, climbing into the passenger seat and stretching
the seatbelt across her ponderous belly.

"Tex-Mex?"

"I see nachos with extra jalapenos in my future," she
assures him, closing the door. He gazes at her through the
glass for a moment, an expression of bemused delight on his
face, then jogs around to the driver's side.

***

Calvert Cliffs Park
Early evening

Harrison crouches over another pool of the gelatinous
material they discovered earlier. Her forehead furrows: this
sample, like the previous ones, appears fresh.

Doggett rises from his position on the other side of the
footpath and brushes his hands on his knees. He looks around
for Harrison but does not see her. He pulls out his cell
phone. Still no service. "Great."

Returning the phone to his coat, Doggett spots Harrison and
makes his way toward her. He speaks to her but she does not
respond. Growing frustrated, he strides toward her
forcefully; when he is still several yards away, his foot
comes down hard and then sinks into the earth. He only has
time for the look on his face to change to one of shock
before he disappears from view. There is a distant thud.

Harrison's concerned face appears over the edge of the hole.

"Are you okay?"

He struggles to his feet at least eight feet below her,
favoring his left knee. "I think so," he says, wincing. When
he sees Harrison dig out her own cell phone, he shakes his
head wearily. "Don't bother, Agent Harrison." She frowns at
her phone, then holds it face up on her palm, turning slowly
in a circle as though divining for a signal.

"If I could just--"

"Agent Harrison!" Doggett barks. She stops to stare at him.
"Don't move." She looks down at her feet and realizes the
wisdom of his words: the perimeter of the cave-in is
unstable, still dripping loose earth and debris at his feet.

Doggett looks around him. "This is some kind of tunnel--it
goes in both directions." Harrison looks apprehensive at
this. "I'm not gonna be able to climb out on my own--it's
too high. Go find the ranger and get help. I'll wait right
here," he finishes, his voice laced with sarcasm and self-
disgust.

"I think I can get you out," she offers.

"No way, Agent Harrison. Just go find the ranger station--
he'll have a phone and a radio. And probably a ladder," he
adds dryly.

"But if that thing is around here--for all we know it
*lives* underground," she argues. "Manticores...."

"Will you stop it with the manticores already?" he bellows.

Harrison throws up her hands in frustration. "Why can't you
just accep--" and, as she takes a step forward, the ground
gives way beneath her feet and she falls through the forest
floor.

***

Scullys Apartment
Evening

The door to Scully's apartment opens and she enters,
pressing one hand to her stomach. Mulder is right on her
heels. He secures the door and gives her a look of concern.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I think that last taco did me in," she informs
him.

He grins. "Why don't you lie down while I--"

"And miss you attaching part D to part F using bolt Y? Not
on your life," she assures him, disappearing into the living
room. Mulder follows.

"No calls," he says, glancing at the answering machine. "I
thought we might have heard from Doggett by now."

"They dont have to report to us," Scully points out. He
merely nods. She looks at him sympathetically. "You miss it,
dont you."

"What, slogging around in the muck, sticking my fingers into
indefinable goop, not to mention training a new agent?" he
says unconvincingly.

Her only response is a look. He sighs.

"I was a new agent once," she reminds him.

"Yes," he replies.

"So--you do. Miss it, I mean."

"Yeah. I do." They share a look.

She holds her hand out. "Pass me those instructions--
partner. I dont want the baby to wind up with a jungle-gym
instead of a cradle," she quips, dispelling the tension.

***

Beneath Calvert Cliffs Park
Undetermined time

Doggett and Harrison stand in the tunnel, looking up.

"I'm sorry," she says softly to a clearly aggrieved Doggett.
He takes a deep breath, opens his mouth as if to say
something, then changes his mind.

Might as well check it out, since were down here," he says
instead. She nods, and they begin to move in opposite
directions--Harrison left, Doggett right. She only goes a
few paces before she turns and follows him, pulling out a
small maglite and clicking it on. The light, though bright,
cuts only a narrow swath through the gloom of the tunnel
ahead.

"Its obviously man-made--probably a drainage system at some
point," Harrison offers, following closely behind him, her
flashlight aimed well ahead. She shines the beam on the
walls, ceiling, and floor, which absorb rather than
reflecting the light.

Doggett nods. "Yeah, looks like it." The tunnel winds
aimlessly, and they come to a two-way fork. They stop.
"Okay, which way?" he says to himself.

"Well, whichever way, wed better mark our choices, assuming
we have to make more of them," Harrison says. She steps
forward and scratches against the right wall of the tunnel
with the end of her flashlight. The beam bounces crazily off
their dirty faces and the surroundings as she does so. "The
walls too hard--I cant make a mark," she says
disappointedly.

"So well take the right fork each time," Doggett says,
turning in that direction and striding forward. He walks out
of the beam of light and stops when she does not immediately
follow. "You coming or what?"

"I was thinking."

"Well, can you think and walk?" he asks, taking a step back
toward her.

"The--uh, it could live down here," she suggests, avoiding
the word "manticore" as she continues toward him.

"Are you suggesting someone made this place for--that
thing?"

"Or, well, if it has the face of a man, it's probably partly
human."

They look at each other in silence, the only sound their
breathing, eerily amplified by the close space.

"Youre talking about intelligence," Doggett says slowly.

She starts to shrug him off, then thinks better of it.
"Agent Doggett, the things Ive read in those files...."

Doggett huffs his impatience and turns to continue in the
direction they had been going.

"Wait." Her voice stops him in his tracks. Her flashlight
beam is focused on something that shines wetly. He crouches
to examine it.

"Its not like that stuff we found in the woods," he says.

"It looks like--"

"Yeah, its blood," he says, touching it with a cautious
finger. "Fresh." Rising, he draws his weapon.

They continue on more slowly than before, Doggett in the
lead, Harrison only slightly behind him, the beam of the
small light flitting from walls to ceiling to floor.

The tunnel forks again, and he stops. "Right," he says, then
steps forward. Something crackles beneath his feet, a deeper
sound than snapping twigs. Harrisons flashlight swings
down, revealing Doggetts foot embedded in the skeletized
ribcage of a small animal. Other bones are strewn about,
some broken and completely dried, others suspiciously red
and wet.

Harrison works her mouth to get enough moisture to swallow.
"Those arent all from one meal," she says hoarsely.

"No," Doggett agrees, attempting to draw his foot out of its
prison. He finally kicks it off, the cage of bones skipping
along the floor ahead of them and finally coming to rest
with a hollow crack against the base of a wall.

They start off again. After a few more steps, the tunnel
forks again. "Turning right again," Doggett says, tightening
his grip on his weapon. Harrison follows without a word.

There is a rushing sound as soon as they turn into the new
tunnel, and they are knocked backward. Harrison is thrown
against a wall, her head rapping hard enough against it that
she blinks hard as she slides to the ground with a cry of
pain. The flashlight drops as well and spins as it is kicked
by scuffling feet. She pulls herself to a crouch and draws
her own weapon, squinting into the gloom occasionally broken
by a flash of the spinning light. She cannot fire her weapon
without endangering Doggett.

There is a bellow and a shout, then a cry of anguish. Heavy
footsteps retreat in the direction they had been heading.

"Doggett?" she whispers. The flashlight has come to rest in
the center of the passageway, illuminating the floor of the
tunnel ahead of her. She shuffles toward it cautiously, then
bends and picks it up. The light catches on the eyes of
whatever is lurking farther down the passage, and it bellows
again and disappears in a rush away from them.

Doggett is slumped on the ground.

"Agent Doggett?" she cries in concern, crouching next to
him. She rolls him over and he blinks furiously, wiping at
his eyes, his face streaming a translucent liquid. Seeing
that he is more concerned with clearing the substance from
his face than responding to her, she pulls a handkerchief
from her coat pocket and begins gently wiping his face for
him, her brow furrowed with concern. He relaxes and allows
her to minister to him.

"Better?" she says with a smile when she finishes, tucking
her hair behind her ear to keep it out of her face.

"That depends," he says evenly. "Is your light still on?"

She freezes in the act of shoving the handkerchief back into
her pocket and blinks at him, her eyes narrowed. "What?"

"It spit something at me," he says, his voice rising in
panic. "Everythings blurry. You sure you got that stuff out
of my eyes?"

Harrison shines the flashlight on his face and gasps. He is
still blinking, but he appears to be trying to take more of
the light in, not protect his vision from it. His irises and
pupils are rapidly turning a milky blue.

"Harrison?" She does not respond for a moment, and,
panicked, he reaches out to touch her.

"Im here," she says calmly. "I wonder--if it's permanent,"
she adds, looking at her hands and blinking hard. She
withdraws a small plastic baggie from her pocket and pushes
the handkerchief into it, tucking the evidence pouch into
her pocket. "I wish I had some of that waterless hand wash
with me--I always keep some in the car."

"Just keep your hands away from your face," Doggett
admonishes. He is now nearly fully blind; he can see her
movement as she nods, but that is all.

"I'll do that," she assures him softly, then clears her
throat. "We need to get moving."

"Yeah. If we can get back to our original cave-in, maybe we
can get out--or maybe Ranger Schenck will hear us when we
call for help. Plus it'll still be lighter. Not that that
matters for me," he adds in an undertone.

Harrison pretends not to hear him. She lifts him to his
feet, bending to retrieve his weapon, which she hands to
him. He thanks her and reholsters it. The blue of his eyes
is now almost completely opaque. She bites her lip at the
eerie sight and begins to guide him back down the tunnel,
their progress impeded by her own slightly blurred vision.
She sets her mouth in a grim line and says nothing.

They retrace their steps, turning left at each fork. At the
second turn they hear something large moving through a side
tunnel toward them. Harrison whips the light around and
again catches just a glimpse of the beast. It is massive,
frightening even seen through Harrison's damaged eyes--a
great blur of dark, coarse hair and glistening teeth, a hint
of sinuous tail, parts that could never add up to any
rational whole.

She drops Doggett's arm and reaches for her weapon, the beam
of her flashlight glancing across the beast's eyes as she
does so. It bellows and retreats rapidly into the tunnel
behind it.

"Some of these tunnels must empty onto each other," Doggett
says, leaning heavily on the wall.

"I've been thinking--there must be a couple of exits,"
Harrison begins as they continue onward.

"Yeah, but for all we know, they're all back in that
direction," he responds.

She nods and, knowing he cannot see her, adds an audible
assent. They turn again and she can finally see the debris
on the floor that marks their original starting point.

"Ive been thinking--could you climb out if you stand on my
shoulders?" Doggett asks.

"I think so--let me try," she replies. "Im not sure how
Ill get you out, though...."

"Youll go for help," Doggett interjects firmly.

"And leave you here?" She stares at him, aghast.

"Theres no other way, Agent Harrison," he says wearily.
"You go get Schenck. I got my gun and if youll leave me the
flashlight...." There is no response. "Cmon, Agent
Harrison, you know this is the only way thisll work."

She pauses, biting her lip. "Yes. I know." She reaches for
his left hand and carefully places her flashlight in it,
wrapping his fingers around it securely.

Doggett bends at the waist and allows her to scramble onto
his back. He slowly straightens up, Harrison holding onto
the wall to lessen her weight. She can reach the hole, but
the earth around its edges may crumble.

"If you can give me a boost," she explains, "I think I can
clear the loose area." Doggett bends slightly at the waist
again as she puts the end of the flashlight into her mouth,
keeping its beam trained on the hole and freeing both hands.
She taps him on the head and he pushes her upward. With a
surge and a scramble she pulls herself out of the hole,
throwing herself clear as it rains dirt and small stones
down on Doggett.

"You okay?" she calls, peering down into the widened hole
from a safe distance.

"Yeah, but I'll be better when you get back with the
cavalry," he calls up. She smiles, unseen by Doggett.

"It's afraid of the light--just wave the flashlight around
if it comes back," she says. "Ill be back as soon as I
can," she adds, then disappears into the bush.

Doggett nods belatedly, then sinks to the floor of the
tunnel, his back against the wall, weapon and flashlight at
the ready.

***

Beneath Calvert Cliffs Park
Undetermined time

Night has fallen in earnest; no ambient light comes from the
hole above him. Doggett turns off the light to save the
battery.

A rustling noise comes from his left, the direction he and
Harrison explored earlier. He shoots to his feet and stands
crouched, flashlight and weapon trained on the space in
front of him.

The slow, stealthy sound of heavy footsteps approaches,
horrifyingly accompanied by a slithering sound. He clicks on
the flashlight and waves it, the beam bouncing wildly off
floor, walls, and ceiling. The noise stops, and he swallows,
backing up into the unexplored part of the tunnel. Water
drips somewhere, testifying to the dampness of this winding
prison.

The footsteps approach again, and he wrinkles his noise at
the odor that comes with it. Still flashing the light
around, he slides the safety off his weapon and calls out.

"Harrison? For God's sake, if you're anywhere near here,
sing out!"

Nothing. Even the footsteps have ceased. He leans his right
elbow against the wall for a better purchase and to steady
his aim, blinking rapidly in a futile effort to clear his
vision.

This time, the footsteps approach at a rush. He squeezes off
two rounds and the kick of the weapon, fired blind, throws
him off balance. It falls from his hand as he stumbles.

***

Calvert Cliffs Park
Undetermined time

Above ground, Harrison stumbles into the clearing in front
of the ranger's cabin.

"Hello?" she calls, "Ranger Schenck?" There is no answer.



Breathing heavily, wiping sweat from her dirty face with her
torn jacket, she jogs up the steps to the door and bangs on
it with her fist.

"Ranger Schenck! It's Agent Harrison! Open up!"

Still no answer.

Ducking her head, she peers through the window next to the
door. Through the cloud of her vision, which seems not to
have gotten any worse, at least, she can make out a lit lamp
and some furniture, but no ranger.

"Schenck!" she calls once more, "I'm coming in!" Harrison
uses the butt of her weapon to break the window, then
reaches through to open the door. Returning the weapon to
its holster, she enters the cabin and crosses to the phone
on the desk.

She sinks gratefully to the chair and dials a number.

"This is Agent Leyla Harrison, badge number JTTO19722001.
I'm calling from the ranger station in Calvert Cliffs Park.
I need backup and medical assistance--my partner, Agent John
Doggett, is injured." The reply she receives does not please
her. "We don't have that kind of time! Look, call AD
Skinner--he's supervising this case directly."

A tinny voice informs her that she is being placed on hold.
She sighs and then begins to search the desk for writing
supplies. She grabs a pen, then notices the journal lying
open in front of her and reaches for it to tear out a page.

Her eyes are drawn like a magnet to her own name, which
appears in the most recent entry. Above that she spots the
word "manticore."

***

Somewhere underground
Undetermined time

Doggett lies half on his back in the tunnel, groping around
for his weapon, which he dropped when he fell. Fortunately,
he did not lose the flashlight, a potentially more useful
weapon in these particular circumstances.

Retreating crashing noises reveal that the creature has
fled; rather than fading into the distance, however, the
sound merely stops some distance away.

Abandoning the search for his weapon, Doggett climbs
painfully to his feet and edges backward at a crouch, the
flashlight still held before him. The sound of footsteps
begins again, more slowly, stealthily, still beyond the
cave-in but approaching steadily.

He is being stalked.

***

Calvert Cliffs Park
Undetermined time

Harrison flips frantically through the journal, focusing on
a word here, a phrase there. Schenck's entries four months
previously reveal the torment of his loneliness. He feels
"abandoned out here in the woods," "overwhelmed by silence."

Shortly thereafter, however, the entries change. Schenck
details finding "a creature the size of a large tiger" in
the eastern part of the park, something "like I've never
seen, like something out of a horror movie." "I thought at
first it was a man who had been attacked by a bear or wolf,"
he writes, "and perhaps that is how such a creature was
begat, though what accounts for the wings and tail I can't
imagine." He tries speaking to it but "it doesn't seem to
understand nor express itself using human speech."

Her concern mounting, she turns the pages more rapidly.
Schenck describes building a "holding area" of sorts beneath
the western part of the park, expanding on "an old system of
tunnels once used to channel excess rainwater to prevent
flooding in the lower wildlands." He has been feeding it
"live prey from the park such as I could catch" to help it
"retain its hunting instincts." He has no idea where to
release it once it has fully recovered.

"Perhaps I can study it," he writes in an entry from the
previous month. He has "no desire to see it go"--he feels
"finally useful, like someone needs me."

In an entry from the week before, just two days before the
hiker was attacked, Schenck has written, "it is no longer
eating what I bring it, though it appears healthy."

"Can it be getting out? I must look for another exit--I have
only ever used the one in this cabin...."

Dropping both phone and journal, Harrison darts her eyes
around the cabin. It is still difficult to see, but she
notices a throw rug in a free space on the floor. Bending
down, she flips the rug up and sees a trap door beneath. She
studies it for a moment, then leaves the cabin in haste. The
front door swings closed behind her.

***

Somewhere Underground
Undetermined time

Doggett stumbles to a stop, flattening his hand against the
tunnel wall. His breath comes in short pants. Beads of sweat
dot his face as he listens for signs of pursuit. Nothing.

He takes a few hesitant steps, using the wall as a guide. He
flails his other arm out to try and discern the location of
the wall that should be parallel to his location.

When he finds nothing but emptiness, he ventures a few feet
away from the wall. He waves his arm back and forth. "Damn,"
he says, cursing his blindness.

He walks back to the wall and repeats the same process every
few steps.

"Have to be off the main shaft," he mutters in a breathy
whisper.

Slowly, he moves further into the chamber. Carefully, but
with a sense of urgency, he tests each patch of ground
before he puts his weight on it to move forward.

A faraway, rustling noise causes him to turn his head
sharply just as he takes another cautious step. His foot
comes into contact with a soft, lumpy mass, pitching him
off-balance. He tries to regain his footing but he stumbles,
falling forward. He thrusts his arms out hoping to break his
fall and ends on his hands and knees.

He starts to push himself off the floor to regain his feet
and his hands come into contact with a wet, sticky
substance. He tentatively explores further, sliding his hand
along sickeningly familiar features--forehead, nose--
"Jesus!" The expletive explodes out of his mouth as he
quickly withdraws his fingers and scuttles away from the
gruesome heap until he reaches the wall. "Stephen Andrews, I
presume," he croaks. Doggett sits on his haunches and leans
his head back, breathing harshly. He briskly rubs his hands
against his pants in an attempt to clean them.

He jerks his head as he hears a barely audible noise,
followed by another. It is following Doggetts route. He
holds his breath and squints into the gloom.

***

Beneath Calvert Cliffs Park
Undetermined time

Harrison steps quietly off the ladder as she finishes her
descent into the tunnel. With an indecisive glance toward
the open trapdoor, she switches on the small flashlight with
one hand, and brings a spray can from her waistband with the
other.

Without hesitating, she moves forward. Snapping the beam
from side to side with an occasional flick of the light to
the ceiling and floor, she walks through the tunnel. She
pauses at a fork and sprays a white blob in the shape of a
sloppy arrow onto the wall.

"Agent Doggett?" she calls. A distant voice answers from the
darkness in front of her.

Harrison carefully moves further into the murky tunnel, but
her blurry vision hampers her speed. She gives cursory
inspections to offshoots of the passage as she walks.

Again, she calls out. "Agent Doggett?" She sprays another
white blob on the wall as she awaits a reply. It comes back
to her, a little closer this time.

"Agent Doggett, keep talking," she yells back as she
continues toward the sound of his voice.

She pauses as she hears a shuffling noise a short distance
ahead of her position. She cannot determine what is making
the sound but realizes she has to hurry. Its coming from
the same direction as Doggetts voice.

***

Somewhere underground
Undetermined time

Doggett raises his head as he hears the faint shout. A
small, relieved smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

He gets to his feet, bracing his hands against the wall.
"Agent Harrison!" he yells. "In here! Im in here!" He walks
toward Harrisons voice, sliding his hand along the wall for
guidance.

He skids to a stop as a musky odor permeates the damp
earthiness of the underground cavern. Nostrils flaring, he
tries to determine where the scent is the strongest. He
flattens himself against the wall as he realizes the
creature must be in the chamber with him.

He slides along the damp barrier slowly, ears tuned to the
slight noises he is now hearing. The smell becomes stronger.

Doggett senses a presence and frantically waves the
flashlight in one hand as he lashes out with his fist,
calling for Harrison.

***

Somewhere underground

Undetermined time

Harrison picks up her pace, as she gets closer to Doggetts
voice. The hand holding the can skims along the wall as she
uses it to help guide her through the passage. She pauses
only long enough to make sure each spray from the can hits
its target.

The flashlight beam bobs ahead of her quickening steps as
she approaches a large opening in the wall.

A shout and a quick splash of her light show Harrison that
she has found Doggett, who is brandishing the weak,
flickering flashlight like a sword. The creature stands just
a few feet away ready to lunge.

Dropping the can, she switches the flashlight quickly to her
left hand. With her right she draws her weapon and, with a
bloodcurdling cry, plunges into the chamber.

Doggett swipes out at the monster. Coupled with Harrisons
shout and bold entrance, the commotion startles the beast
into backing up several paces.

Harrison stops when she bumps against Doggetts arm.

He starts violently as she jostles his arm, his fists held
in a defensive posture. "Its me," she says quickly.

"Thank God. Get us out of here," he says in short, panting
breaths.

"Working on it," she whispers.

A flicker of movement suddenly catches her attention.
Squinting, she shines the light past the creature to the far
side of the enclosure. A shadowy figure has just entered
from a second doorway. "Damn."

"What? Whats happening?" Doggett turns his head
frantically.

"Could be another one," she mutters. "I cant tell. Grab my
sleeve."

"Too many damn doors in this place," Doggett mumbles as he
grasps her arm with just enough force to keep a grip but not
enough to hinder her use of the flashlight.

"You have to leave! You cant be here!" a voice hollers
angrily from across the chamber.

The beasts shadowy bulk shifts slightly toward the sound,
its interest wavering between the two agents and the
newcomer.

Doggett feels the muscles in Harrisons arm tense. "What the
hell?" he hisses. "Is that Schenck? Whats he doing down
here?"

"Its Schenck, all right, but Im not sure who hes here to
help," she tells Doggett in a hushed tone. She divides her
attention between the creature and the ranger, who is slowly
walking to the center of the chamber. "I found a journal. He
found this...creature and hes been taking care of it,"
Harrison hurriedly explains.

Schenck gestures at the beast. "Dont hurt him. Its not his
fault. I didnt know he was able to get out."

"Dont hurt him? Hes nuts," Doggett warns in a barely
audible voice as he leans toward Harrison.

"Schenck, you have to help us. Agent Doggett needs medical
assistance," Harrison tries to reason.


Heedless of her plea, the ranger continues his slow advance
and draws his weapon, which he holds loosely at his side.
His slow steps bring him near the creature, which has been
warily tracking his steady movement.

Schenck faces the two agents. "Ill take care of everything.
You need to leave," he says in a level tone.

"Were not..." Harrison starts.

Schenck shouts angrily, cutting off her response as he
raises his weapon threateningly. "Go now! Get out!"

Alarmed, Doggett tugs on Harrisons arm. "Lets go!" he
says.

Keeping their backs to the wall, Harrison hustles them
toward the doorway. They hurry through the opening. She
quickly holsters her weapon and makes a grab for Doggetts
arm. They stumble along the passage.

She pulls him through the tunnel, not hesitating even when a
scream reaches their ears. Two shots ring out. Anguished
yells tumbling one over the other echo through the walls,
and then, but for the sound of their hurrying footsteps,
silence.

***

George Washington University Hospital
April 27th, 9:20 a.m.

Doggett reclines in his hospital bed, reading a book. He is
holding it closer to his eyes than he normally would. At the
sound of approaching footsteps, he looks up. A moment later,
Harrison stands in the doorway holding a bunch of flowers.
She reaches up to rap a knuckle on his door but stops when
she discovers him looking at her.

"Mind if I come in?"

"Not at all, Agent Harrison." He closes his book and sets it
on the bed beside him, waving her to a seat at his bedside
with a smile.

The sunlight in his room is muted through drawn window
blinds. She crosses to his bed and hands him the flowers,
which he lays on a table he has swung out of his way,
pushing aside a breakfast tray with an amorphous mass of a
yellow substance passing itself off as eggs.

"Not hungry?" she asks.

"Im not sure whether Im supposed to eat it or use it for a
sponge bath," he quips.

She smiles at this. He smiles back. There is an awkward
stretch of silence.

"So--how are you feeling?" she asks.

"Doing better, thanks. Its still a little blurry," he
gestures at his reddened, swollen eyes. "But the docs says
the treatment they gave me at Prince Frederick helped a lot.
I can probably go home tomorrow. You, uh, you look like
youre doing okay."

"Yeah. Yeah, almost back to normal." She holds up a pair of
sunglasses. "Just have to watch it around bright light for a
while."

Doggett nods. "Good. Thats good."

There is another moment of awkward silence, though shorter
this time, as Doggett fiddles with his tray and Harrison
nervously fingers her glasses.

"A little light reading?" she finally asks, indicating his
book. He holds it up. Anatomy of Motive, by John Douglas.

Footsteps out in the hall draw their attention away from
their dangling conversation.

Scully appears in the doorway, followed by Mulder, who
carries a gift bag. The four exchange greetings and the
tension eases slightly.

"For you," Mulder says, handing Doggett the bag. He and
Scully seem amused about something. Doggett reaches into the
bag and pulls out another book.

"Edith Hamiltons Mythology," he says wryly. "And in large
print, no less. You shouldnt have." The other three agents
chuckle.

"Consider it research," Harrison responds.

Doggett puts the book on his lap. "Agent Harrison, next time
we run across any monsters, Ill know just who to ask." She
smiles uncomfortably.

Scully turns their attention to the case. "So, the last
thing we heard, the two of you were headed back out to the
park, and the next thing we know we get a call youre both
in the hospital. What happened out there?"

Harrison looks briefly at Doggett, then back at Scully.
"Well, long story short. We found the remains of what turned
out to be our missing hiker, but whatever did it--and we
never did find out for certain what that was--got away.
Ranger Schenck had been, well, harboring it, in the tunnels
underneath the western side of the park. I found his journal
in the cabin. He was catching small game in the park and
providing it with live prey. But a few weeks ago he wrote
that he thought it was getting out and hunting on its own.
He was looking for an egress to the tunnels hed missed
earlier when he was, uh, preparing them for its lair. That
must be how he got in."

"Yeah, just in time to save us from his pet," Doggett adds
sardonically.

Harrison shakes her head. "Thats the odd thing. Schenck
didnt seem to see the ma-- the creature as a pet," she
mused. "His journals were really interesting--chronicled his
shift from loneliness to feeling needed by someone.
Something."

"The manticore," Mulder adds firmly.

Scully shoots him a warning look that he blithely ignores.
"The accounts date clear back to the fifth century," he
offers.


Harrison looks relieved that the word is out there. She nods
thoughtfully. "You know, a, uh, manticore characteristic not
often mentioned is cowardly behavior. That may be the reason
Agent Doggett is still alive. It wasnt brave enough to
confront prey that fought back. Aggression toward the
creature made it retreat on several occasions. But well
never know for sure. We didnt end up with a lot of hard
evidence."

Doggett pipes up. "Welcome to the X-Files...and it doesnt
get any easier, let me tell you."

Harrison clears her throat nervously.

"Say, I meant to ask you, Agent Harrison--how'd you get us
out so fast? I was in an unexplored part of the tunnels, and
you didnt even come down at our original site."

Harrison turns to Mulder and Scully. "Earlier, it occurred
to me that the maze of tunnels was similar to a labyrinth."

"A labyrinth," Doggett repeats.

"Its in your book--check under minotaur," Mulder
interjects.

Harrison continues. "Basically, the labyrinth was a maze
built to keep a dangerous monster--in the case of myth, the
minotaur--from finding its way out. Same with its prey."

"Okay, so--?"

"So, I knew if I didnt want to get lost, I would have to
mark my trail somehow," she says pragmatically. "In the
myth, Theseus used a ball of string."

"Yeah, but we tried marking the walls earlier and couldnt,"
Doggett reminds her. "Whatd you use?"

"A can of Fix-A-Flat," she says simply.

Scully laughs softly.

"Ingenuity--one of the most important characteristics of a
good field agent," Doggett congratulates her.

"Yeah, uh, well...about that." The other three look at her
expectantly. "Im--requesting reassignment."

Off Doggetts look of surprise, she continues, "I mean, it
was interesting and exciting, but I know where my strengths
are, and theyre not in field work. Ive applied to work in
Research--assisting the VCU and other departments."

"Im really sorry to hear that, Agent Harrison," Doggett
says slowly, dismayed. "Especially after you proved that a
background in history and classics can be indispensable in
the field," he adds with better humor. She smiles, and the
palpable tension eases.

"You do realize that youre one of a select few," Mulder
puts in. "Every agent who has ever worked the X-files has
wound up in one."

She smiles again. "Glad to know the record is still intact."

"That leaves you without a partner, Agent Doggett," Scully
reminds him.

Doggett shrugs nonchalantly. "Hey, its no big deal. Ill
survive till you get back." His voice rises at the end of
this statement, turning it into a question. And when will
that be? it seems to ask.

Scully lets the implied question go unanswered as she looks
at Mulder. "Well, weve got to go. Doctors appointment,"
she says apologetically.

"Ive got to get going, too," Harrison says.

"Are you able to drive? Do you need a lift?" asks Scully.

"No, my friends are waiting for me in the waiting room," she
assures them.

"Well walk out with you," Mulder says.

"If you ever need an obscure fact--" Harrison says to the
room in general, smiling.

Doggett lifts the mythology book and waggles it at her as
she, Mulder, and Scully leave the room. He watches after
them for a moment, listening.

"Say, while I have both of you here," Harrison is asking. "I
had a couple questions about this vampire motor home case?"

Mulder and Scully both rush to respond, their voices a
teasing babble of accusation and denial. He catches the
words "fake teeth," "gnawed on," and "drugged" before
Scullys voice rises stridently. "He did not have buck
teeth!"

Doggett smiles, shaking his head. He lifts the book in his
hand and looks at its cover, his smile turning sad. Dropping
the book back into his lap, he sighs and stares straight
ahead at the wall of his empty room, alone again.


End.







