>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." Scully, clad in a dark blue robe, walks through her apartment, turning off lights and checking the door. She stops in her kitchen, taking a red marker off the counter and uncapping it. On the wall facing her is a calendar and a cordless phone; below them is another calendar with a picture of the "Plan 9 from Outer Space" movie poster on one page. On Mulder's calendar she marks a large 'X' over one square. She goes to the second calendar, one with cloying pink and blue baby animals, and writes a large 'O'. "Now moments feel like days, my pulse quickening with every ring of the phone. And then I remember -- we each choose our path, Mulder." 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 second 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 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 dust-covered and wind- blown Scully. She takes photos of it 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 the medical examiner's report for a few moments before looking again at the material she just collected. After placing both items back on the car seat beside her, she takes her cell phone from her pocket and starts to dial. A 'no service' message on the phone adds to her unhappy mood. "Damn," she says with a sigh. She looks around, spots the pay phone a short distance away, gets out of the car and makes her way toward it. She sighs once again as she places her call. "Hey, it's 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, a hand on one hip giving away his lack of patience. He has his shirt sleeves rolled up and looks like he's been at work for some time. "Well, actually, I'm out of town. I'm north of Sugarville, Utah, roughly," Scully admits. "Utah? What are you doing there?" Doggett asks as he looks at something on the desk in front of him. "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 asks, clearly confused. "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. 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. "I'm sorry for not telling you about this, Agent Doggett. I don't really know why I did it. Frankly there's nothing going on here that needs two agents, though." "Well, if there's anything I can do from here," Doggett offers. "Well, actually there might be, if you don't mind. Somewhere in our files there is 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 under 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 as he prepares to end the call. "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 dry, bare, run-down 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've 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 where she 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 to recover quickly. "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 man, who obviously works at the gas station, 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 asks 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, which is on the palm of his hand and covered with dirty gauze. "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." "Medical doctor?" he asks, surprised. "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 says as she 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," he says as 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 the gas 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 few miles from the gas station before her car sputters and then stops entirely. "Okay," she says as she gets out of the car. After having walked 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 underneath. "Hey. Excuse me. You put something in my tank that killed my engine." "What?" he asks innocently. "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 the man, 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, old house and goes in through a screechy screen door even though there doesn't appear to be anyone around. The walls inside are mostly bare and the plaster is crumbling off, revealing the skeletal wood slatting underneath. There are curtains on the windows and buckets of paint partially covered by a drop cloth sit just inside the front door. "Hello? Hello?" she calls out as she looks around. At the top of the stairs that are right inside the door is 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, old rolltop desk sits an old-fashioned rotary phone. Scully picks up the receiver and attempts to dial a couple of times before sitting it back down. "The line's dead," she explains. "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 asks impatiently. "Ten minutes... two hours.... 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, almost too forcefully, as she stands. She 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 asks 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 gave at the moment 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 with her hand on her stomach. "You don't want to walk it," he tries once more. Scully takes a deep breath and looks around her. 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. She disappears into the house and Scully knocks on the door after following onto the screened-in porch. "Hello? Ma'am, I need some help." She tries to open the door, but finds it locked and it doesn't look like the woman is going to answer. 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 house. 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 room she is given in the 'inn' doesn't have electricity; she uses candles and oil lamps to light it as she sits nervously on the bed with her gun in her hand. Through the window, numerous people carrying lamps are coming toward the house. --- A knock at the door the next morning starts 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 goes and 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?" A heavy-set woman with long, reddish-brown hair is holding a man down onto the bed who 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. "Where did you find him?" she asks of Mr. Milsap and the woman. Scully's eyes widen in recognition upon seeing Hank. "He's a stranger. He wandered into town. He needed help," the old man answers. "Wha... what's wrong with him?" the woman asks, concerned. "He had a grand mal seizure. 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 large diameter round wound with ragged edges, redness and swelling, seeping blood and trace amounts of mucous, even with his waist. "How did this happen?" she snaps as she glares at the two people. They shake their heads worriedly but Scully doesn't seem 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 hopefully. "No one here has a car," the woman tells her. "No cars?" She asks, disbelieving. "Then why do you need a gas station?" Mr. Milsap ignores her and turns to the other woman, seemingly struck by inspiration. "I know, Gloria! We could 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 as well as she nods at the old man then turns to Scully. "In the meantime, please, anything you can do 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. --- Though she knows how insane it is to do so, Scully pulls an old cord off of the wall and holds it against the antenna of her cell phone in an attempt to get it to work. She is disappointed anyway when it doesn't work. Behind her, the woman is spooning Caro syrup into Hank's mouth. "Am I doing this right?" Gloria asks her. "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 how 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 asks as he grabs Scully's arm. Scully looks at Gloria questioningly. "I'll go tell everybody," she 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; we're in serious danger 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 asks, 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. Now it looks like upwards of a dozen people may have participated due to the footprints at the crime scene, but it's a very tight-knit group of people who would murder together--a cult, in a word. 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. "Hang on a second. Just let me look at something, okay?" "Hmmm?" "All right," Scully says as she examines the wound on the man's back. She presses it and fluid seeps out. The man gasps in pain. "That thing hurts! Maybe you shouldn't do that," he says 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 herself, but she moves ahead anyway. To her dismay, Hank starts seizing again as the strange shape moves up his back toward his head. Thankfully though, he quiets as Scully gets a pair of forceps and uses it to grasp onto something in the wound. He 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?" she says as she moves to the man's side. "I'm alive," he says weakly. "That's a start." "Oh, praise God," the woman 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?" Hanks asks. 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 unfamiliar 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." "Does that mean I'm 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?" Hank asks. "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?" She then opens the window, but stops to think for a minute. "You're not going to be gone long, right?" Hank asks. "You know how to use a gun?" she asks as she unholsters her gun. "Pretty much," he replies before Scully gives him her gun. "I'll be back soon," she tells him as she 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 asks. "She says I'm dying," Hank tells them, holding Scully's gun against his stomach. Mr. Milsap and the woman exchange worried looks. "We need another swap." --- A flashlight's beam slices through the darkness of what appears to be an old barn. Scully looks through a peephole for a few seconds before entering the barn. She wanders around for a couple of minutes before discovering the bus. While she looks around, Hank stumbles in, limping pitifully with the aid of crutches. "Hey. How'd you...?" Scully asks, going to keep the man from falling. Something hits against her arm and she looks down to see her gun, which she takes when the other cult members flood the barn, surrounding them both. "You had me convinced," she tells him as she steps back and aims her gun. A frightened look crosses her face when she tries to fire and nothing happens. She drops the gun and turns to run, only to be grabbed and held by members of the strange congregation. Mr. Milsap steps forward; bullets fall onto the ground from his open hand. "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. "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," he tells Scully with a creepy smile. "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 the woman, who swings a hammer high before letting it fall down, 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 beat Hank to a pulp 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 big, disgusting slug. 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 bed, keeping her on her stomach. Several people are watching her as she groans in pain and Mr. Milsap joins them. He sits an oil lamp on the small table at the foot of the bed. "What did you put in me?! I'm going to get every last one of you bastards!" she says painfully. "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 my spine is a 'him'?" Scully asks incredulously as the strange shape she watched move along Hank's spine does the same movement along hers. Mr. Milsap pats her on the back 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 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 her hand, placing it on the table beside her. Mr. Milsap and Gloria go out to deal with the stranger, leaving the gas station attendant to watch over Scully. She kicks violently and turns the oil lamp over 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 gag in her mouth, which has become loose. 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 softly as her body stills. --- "Hey," Doggett startles the gas station man, who had been watching Scully so intently he didn't hear him enter. He turns quickly to face the agent, who immediately knocks him unconscious. That finished, 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 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 forgetting her desire 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? Gone in 60 seconds, Jack. 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. They hear the cult enter the barn and start beating 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 a bit of what feels like him digging around in her back with the knife, he pulls the creature out while the group starts trying to board the bus. >From the corner of her eye, Scully sees Doggett throw the slug as hard as he can to the floor and shoot it three times. Mr. Milsap and Gloria break through the door then and the man starts to point Scully's gun at the agents until he realizes that the creature is dying. Scully watches without pity as the group expresses their grief. --- >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's 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 phone, dials from memory, 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 Momento 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. Used with love, if not permission.