Disclaimer: I don't own them ... I don't own them. Mulder and Scully .... Mulder and Scully. They belong to Chri-is ... They belong to Chri-is. Yes they do ... Yes they do. I don't own him ... I don't own him. The Mitchly Man ... The Mitchly Man. Skinner belongs to Chri-is ... Skinner belongs to Chri-is. Darn, darn, darn ... Darn, darn, darn. Archive: Yes Rating: PG -- I even managed to keep the language clean this time guys. Blame it on MAB, a very bad influence. Category: Story, dash of the A-word Spoilers: None Keywords: Mental Mulder torture, Scully torture, and UST. Summary : Awwww, do I have to? OK, M&S get into trouble and it's Skinner to the rescue. Small Babbling: Started at the end of November on a roadtrip to, yes, Roswell, (If you watched the Sci-Fi Channel at all last week, you've seen what you haven't been missing.) this was a battle to finish because M&S didn't want to do what I wanted them to do. But I won .... I think. Envisioned to be taking place sometime before the end of forth season. End of the Tunnel (1/6) by Nicole Mason (mason@umr.edu) (11/23/96-7/6/97) Scully opened the door of the truck and looked around at the barren New Mexico landscape. They were further east than the last time they had been in the state and the soil wasn't as red ... as alien. Mulder grinned at her, almost like he was reading her mind, as he retrieved their packs from the back. She smiled back at him, secretly glad to be out on known wild goose chase with him. "Are you ready, Scully?" She checked her equipment one last time and bent down to retie her shoelace. "What exactly are we looking for?" "My source told me there was pictorial proof of UFO's --" "You made me use vacation days and dragged me out here to look at cave paintings that are going to be completely bogus? I thought there'd at least be --" "Not bogus, Scully." He closed the hatch with a little more force than necessary, and then said, "And I don't remember dragging you." She wanted to apologize and slap him upside the head at the same time for his attitude. They were both still reeling from the word that the X-Files were going to be shut down at the end of the fiscal year. It wasn't because of their professional conduct or lack thereof, and it wasn't because of a lack of convictions in their cases, although they maintained their high solve rate. It was difficult to prosecute something that wasn't human. No, it wasn't because of anything as tangible as either of those. The official word was the X-Files were being shut down because of budget cuts. Budget cuts. Yeah. Right. Their enemies had finally found a way to close the division and neither one of them had grounds to fight it. They weren't even being split up this time, but maybe what would happen would be worse. They were going to be swallowed up by VC. "Force of habit, Mulder." He accepted the apology and offered his own. "At least you didn't have to come chasing after me." "This time," they both said with small smiles as Scully started checking Mulder's equipment. She was zipping his pack when he turned and squinted into the sun, an unnatural sound breaking the silence. A trail of dust was headed straight for them. "Scully," he said to get her attention. "Yeah, Mulder?" "We've got company." She stood up and turned to see what he was looking at. Her forehead wrinkled as she asked, "Are we on government property?" "Yeah. But not restricted. It's National Park territory." "Are you sure?" "Positive, Scully. I didn't have to break out the fence-cutters. Remember?" She didn't reply as two jeeps pulled to a stop before them. Two men exited the first jeep and one from the second. "May I see some ID." The speaker was most likely the ranking officer, but his uniform was devoid of any form of identification. "How about if we ask the same of you?" Mulder asked with a hint of authority. "May I see some ID," the man repeated while one of the other two men shifted his stance, his fingers flexing on the rifle he held. Slowly, Mulder and Scully withdrew their badges for inspection. "You do realize you are trespassing in a restricted area," he continued. "I didn't see any signs." Scully was relieved that Mulder's response wasn't more acidic and that his tone was neutral. "Turn around and place your hands on the vehicle." When Mulder and Scully were slow to respond, the two other men helped them do it. They watched each other over the hood of the car as they were searched for weapons. The two armed men stepped back and Scully turned her head to look at the speaker. Her movements must have been too fast, the nerves of the young man near her stretched too taunt, or he had previous orders to do it. Whatever the reason, she was completely unprepared for the feeling of the rifle butt slamming into the side of her leg just above the knee. She wasn't sure if she made a sound as her right leg collapsed beneath her. "Scully!" She heard a snap-crack-thud as presumably Mulder was subdued. From her prone position, looking under the car, she could see him lying on the ground as well, blood starting to trickle from a small cut above his eye. She looked up at the two men hovering over her and tried to slowly raise her upper body off the ground. "Say good-bye, Agent Scully." As the words registered, it was almost a shock to feel the rifle butt again rather than a bullet. * * * * * The pain hit first. But the location of it was a three way tie as the throbbing fire in her knee, the dull fuzziness in her head, and the sharp jabbing in her back all fought for her attention. She sat up to get a feel for her surroundings and almost passed out again as she shifted her leg. Lying back and panting softly, she realized she was staring into complete blackness. Her eyes were open and yet she couldn't see anything. Frantically, she reached up to feel if something was covering her eyes. When she encountered skin, she forced herself to remain calm and tried to figure out where she was. The hollow echo of water falling, the damp chill, and the lack of any form of light slowly seeped through the haze being generated by the pain in her knee. A cave. They must have dumped them in the cave. And it was just far enough inside that the light from the entrance couldn't penetrate her surroundings. Slowly she managed to sit up and tried to assess the damage done to her leg. Even through her jeans, she could tell it was already swollen, and she knew as soon as she tried to move there would be very little to stop it from resembling a watermelon. Another sound registered as she accepted the fact that she was not going to be able to move very far from where she was without causing herself a lot of pain. "Mulder," she called, but not in question. She knew it was him just by the sound of his groan as he regained consciousness. It was sad that she recognized the pitiful moan because of repetition rather than because it was so unique. "Scully? Where are you?" "Right here." "Are you OK? I can't see." "I'm fine." She laughed to herself. One of these days she might be able to convince herself when she said it. "Good. But I still can't see." "We're in the cave. I don't have my pack. What about you? Do you have your penlight on you, Mulder?" There was a rustle of clothing and a slight "eeww" as he encountered the damp cave floor. Then, "No pack either. But wait..." She could hear him moving again as he searched his pockets. "Got it." She squinted her eyes before he could turn it on and then spent a second or two letting her eyes adjust to the dim light and the ache in her head. Her stomach dropped when he said, "Hey. Our packs. We won't have to stumble around in the dark." "Like usual you mean?" she asked as he passed her pack. "Haha, Scully." He opened the backpack and pawed through it for a moment. "Everything's still here. Even my gun and they returned my ID. Let's get movin'." They both turned on their larger flashlights and examined the portion of the cave they were in for a moment. She watched as he stood up and extended his hand to her. He frowned when she shook her head. "What's wrong, Scully?" "I don't think I should move. My knee is pretty bad." Mulder dropped to his knees next to her and extended his hands toward her leg. "Can you walk at all?" His hands stopped just short of touching her, fearing he might cause her further pain. "I will if I have to. You go ahead and see how far back we are." She looked at her watch. "It's only been a little over two hours since we ran into those guys. It can't be too far." "I can carry you, Scully." It seemed like he didn't want them to get separated. That was a switch. "No. Go ahead. See how far it is and how rough." "I won't think less of you as an agent or a woman, Scully," he teased. "I know, Mulder. But I shouldn't move until it's necessary." She looked him in the eye and gave a small smile. "It's going to hurt like hell when I do move, and I'd rather put it off." He looked down at her leg as it rested against her other one. The knee was half bent and she looked like she was just casually sitting on the damp floor of the cave. "OK, Scully. I'll see how far it is to the entrance and I'll be right back. Are you comfortable?" "I'm fine. Go, so we can get out of here." "Which way, Scully? Left or right?" She looked into the dark expanse on either side of them. "Go left, young man. And if you don't see --" "I think I can figure it out from there, Scully. I'm not that bad with directions, and I'll be careful." Her heart was heavy as he took off at a quick pace. She didn't think it was going to be as easy as Mulder seemed to believe. She pulled her pack over to her and searched through it like Mulder had done to his. Everything was still there. Her badge was back in the front pocket, and in the main part was the small amount of food, the two bottles of water, and the first aid kit that she always included when Mulder was involved. She didn't appreciate the irony in having to use it on herself this time. She knew the military guys hadn't been thoughtful in leaving their gear. They were just covering their tracks. If she and Mulder couldn't get out of the cave, no one knew where they were and they wouldn't be reported missing until they didn't show up at work next week. It was going to look like lack of common sense had caused their current predicament. And that would be the case. Mulder's lack and her own for following him. Mulder was always going to get an idea in his head and take off without thinking it through. And she was always going to follow, hoping she could talk some sense into him. That particular behavior pattern looked like it was going to get them killed this time around. * * * * * "Sir, there's someone on line one regarding Agents Mulder and Scully." Skinner looked up from the report he was reviewing and glared at the speaker phone. He knew it had been too good to be true for their joint vacation to be legitimate. It had just turned out to be an excuse to investigate something that hadn't been approved through the regular channels. "Send it through." He couldn't help the exasperation in his tone. The past months had been full of Mulder AND Scully doing everything to make his life hell. "This is Walter Skinner." "Mr. Skinner? This is Roger Davis. I'm the manager for a car rental agency in Albuquerque ... New Mexico." "Yes, Mr. Davis. What can I do for you?" Skinner sat up straight and tried to relieve some of the tension gathering in his back. He recalled the last time someone from a rental agency had called the Bureau about Mulder and Scully. Of course the claims people had forwarded the call to him. A lake. A boat. A giant prehistoric sea-serpent. Dammit, they better not have lost the deposit on another vehicle and are trying to get the Bureau to pay for it, Skinner mumbled under his breath. "Well, sir, I wouldn't usually notify anyone this soon, but we are booked solid this month." "Notify me of what?" He could feel his tension levels increasing and he fought the urge to find a cigarette. "When they rented the car, they said they would only need it for three days," the voice on the line said. "And?" "Miss Scully promised to have it back on time." "I take it your vehicle has not been returned?" /Good God, what have they gotten themselves into now?/ "No. And they're over a day late." Usually, it took longer than just twenty four hours before anyone would be notified of such things by the rental agencies. In some cases, the agencies would wait almost a month. Anything to make a buck, Skinner thought with annoyance. "So what made you call?" "As I said, Miss Scully was adamant about having the vehicle back and argued with her companion about it. Something like ... "There's no way in hell I want to be stuck with you longer than that" or words to that effect. And as I said, we are booked solid this month on our vehicles." Skinner wasn't too sure about that. Most likely the guy was being nosy and had decided to see what the government was up to these days, he thought unkindly and nodded. "OK, Mr. Davis, I need to get some information from you and someone will be contacting you later today from my office." Skinner took notes on the conversation he was having while he made mental ones on things he needed to do next. The only times Mulder and Scully didn't return when they said they would were times when Mulder got them in trouble somehow. He hung up the phone and looked across the room at the empty ashtray he hated having in his office. There really were times when he wished he hadn't quit smoking fifteen years ago and each and every one of those times could be traced back to Mulder and the X-Files. * * * * * Mulder stared down the fifteen foot slope at the fast flowing river that he KNEW hadn't been there when he and Scully had first arrived at the cave. The conversation from the night before replayed in his mind. "See. We'll cross this stream twice on the way to the cave. And the map I have of the cave has a stream in it." He was trying to increase the believability of the hand drawn scrap of paper he held. "There's a stream in the cave?" "Yep." He helpfully pointed the line out. "Mulder, it's the rainy season here." "So? We'll be inside. Your doo won't get messed up, Scully." Her glare told him that wasn't what she was worried about. "Mulder, do you know how many people are killed in caves each year because of flooding?" "Like we would die because of something as mundane as that." He brushed her concerns away with a twitch of his eyebrows and a small smile. "And I know you, Scully, how you think. I checked the weather reports already. There is a storm front coming, but it's not due to hit until late afternoon. We'll be long gone by then." His voice echoed slightly in his hollow surroundings as he thought about his predictions and said, "Now that was a miss, Mulder, my man." He looked at his wrist and ended up guessing the time because his watch was in his suitcase. It had taken him maybe thirty minutes to get to the entrance and that was moving quickly. By the time he got back to Scully and they made their way back with her knee, the water level was going to completely cover the opening, leaving a large pool they would have to swim through. He had a decision to make and it really wasn't that hard to do. Scully could take care of herself for awhile. After making his way down the slope, he unstraped his pack, took off the light jacket he was wearing and turned off the flashlight. Shivering slightly, he stepped into the cold stream and then dropped to his knees so he could crawl through the opening. The water was past his elbows and he arched his back in anticipation of avoiding that incredibly chilly moment when the water would go above a certain level. Ten, maybe twelve feet later, he cleared the cave and stood up to stare at the dark sky. The rain drops were sporadic, but it was obvious large amounts of water had been dumped on the area recently. One of these days, he was not going to even listen to the weather predictions, he reflected as he forded the stream outside the cave. Looking up, he frowned again. Against the sky, he could see the dark sheen that indicated more rain was headed right towards them. Seeing the renewed dilemma, he turned towards the jeep and the cell phone he had stashed under the seat. Looking around, he couldn't believe it. Those assholes had stolen their car and Scully's lack of enthusiasm was also starting to penetrate. Something must have happened after they had knocked him out. Either they had said something about leaving them there to die or they had insinuated it. Whatever it was, Scully thought he couldn't handle it. Cursing her protectiveness, he recrossed the stream that had risen in the few minutes he had been out of the cave. Crawling back through the opening, he grimaced as the cold water covered another inch of his already wet jeans. There was no way in hell they were going to be able to get back before the entrance was completely under water, not with the rate the water level was rising. Sitting next to his pack, he frowned as he searched through the front pocket. He hadn't looked for it before because he hadn't thought about it, but the military goons HAD removed something besides their vehicle. And Scully wasn't going to take his word for it about what was on the map, mainly because he had this habit of saying left when he meant right. That's why he usually drove; she was too busy keeping them from getting lost. The trek back took longer than the thirty minutes he had originally estimated and he knew it was because he was dreading telling Scully the details of the situation he had gotten them into this time. He passed what looked like the spot that had prompted the trip in the first place without a second glance. He couldn't care less about the X-Files right now. And with them being shut down in another couple of weeks, the apathy he felt was depressing. The only high point was that he and Scully weren't being split up this time. * * end part 1 * * End of the Tunnel (2/6) by Nicole Mason (mason@umr.edu) (11/23/96-7/6/97) She sat in complete darkness, trying to ignore the throbbing in her knee. As the minutes passed, she became aware of a change in the sounds around her. The speed of the dripping water had increased. It wasn't quite a constant flow, but it held promise. She turned on her flashlight and looked at the stream that was several feet away. She mentally marked how high the water was and then turned off the light again. She refused to watch the level rise before her eyes. One of these days, Mulder would listen to her BEFORE their situation became critical. Somehow she doubted that time would be anywhere in the near future and telling him "I told you so" was almost like kicking someone who was already down. With the new worry, she realized she was on the verge of going into shock. She felt like her thoughts were too slow and trivial, and she knew the chill she was feeling wasn't just because of the damp cave. Knowing she shouldn't, but unable to resist, she closed her eyes. Behind her lids, the darkness danced. * * * * * Discrete inquiries into Mulder's and Scully's credit card histories led him from DC to New Mexico, to the car rental place, to two motel rooms in some place that was bound to be a dive regardless of the chain name, and to a gas station in the middle of nowhere. Further remote investigation showed little else. There hadn't been any activity on their credit cards or in their bank accounts since the gas station three days ago. Skinner thanked Mulder's friend Danny and thoughtfully ran his hand along his jaw as the other man left the office. He didn't have concrete proof of foul play, but he couldn't shake the feeling of precisely that case. "Kimberly?" "Yes, Mr. Skinner?" "Could you make some reservations for me?" "Yes, sir." "Thanks." He let up on the intercom and stared at the file Danny had given him for a second. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. "Yes." His assistant opened the door and poked her head inside. "Sir, those reservations you wanted me to make?" "Is there a problem?" "It might help if I knew your destination." "You still haven't taken that course in mind reading, have you?" "No, sir. I keep missing it because the times are arranged telepathically." He cracked a smile. "Albuquerque. And I'll need a four wheel drive." He was going on a hunch with that one, and because it was what Mulder and Scully had rented. "For when?" "Today, if possible." "And you'll return when?" He closed the file and stood up. Staring out the window, he said, "Make it open ended." * * * * * Mulder paused for a moment and then forced himself to cross the distance outlined by his flashlight. Scully looked like she hadn't moved since he left her. That alone told him how bad her injury must be. "Scully?" He added a small shake to her shoulder when she didn't respond and tried again. "Scully? Come on. Wake up." "Mulder?" She moved to sit up and fell back with a weak groan. "The water's too high, isn't it." "It will be before we can get you out," he affirmed. "Did you at least look at the jeep?" He frowned at her. "I was going to use the phone to get help." She nodded without looking at him. "And?" "And the jeep wasn't there." His frown deepened as his worry increased. "They took the map, too." "If we're careful, we have enough food and water for two maybe three days. We can wait the storm out near the entrance." "And your leg?" "I think I may take you up on your offer, Mulder. I haven't even been able to straighten it." "You mean there will finally be some truth to all those rumors? I'll have you helpless in my arms?" he teased. "All alone in a secret getaway with soft lighting and a romantic dinner just for two," she agreed. He didn't smile as she returned his teasing. "I'm not sure how high the water's going to get near the entrance. There's an incline and the water has already started forming a pool at the entrance. Plus there was a tight spot or two that they drug us through." "So we stay here?" That attitude didn't sound like her partner. "No. We need to get you to a doctor." He looked into the black wall in the opposite direction from whence he came. "The map showed another entrance. I don't know how far it is though." "I hereby grant you permission to leave me behind, Mulder, while you go off investigating." For some reason her humor wasn't reassuring him. "Scully, are you OK?" There was a moment's pause and he could see her forming the "I'm fine" response. Instead she said, "Actually, I think I'm going into shock." "OK. Warm. We need to get you warm." He looked around, knowing he was only going to find damp rocks and cold mud. "Scully?" "I'll be fine for awhile yet. Go ahead and check out the other direction. If it looks promising, come back and we'll figure out a way to move me." "You'll be OK?" He stood up and picked up his flashlight. He left his pack within her reach. "I'll be OK," she said with an unsteady nod. He shrugged out of the light jacket he was wearing and covered her shoulders with it. "Don't argue," he said before she even opened her mouth. "I'll be moving and you need it more than me right now." She smiled her thanks and closed her eyes before he had even gone ten feet. * * * * * Skinner cursed the fact that most of the X-Files were not computerized and that there was no way he could see what case Mulder and Scully had been working on recently. But he knew Mulder had the files organized and that he and Scully could pull any bit of information out at any time. Plus, the misleading chaos was more effective than any computerized security system he had ever come across. He looked around the basement office one last time in the hopes that something would figuratively jump out at him and prayed nothing literally would. When neither did, he closed and locked the door and then headed upstairs to grab a cab to the airport. The in-flight hours were frustrating. Mainly he passed the time trying to recall if Mulder and Scully had been unusually upset at the denial of a case request. They hadn't been, though. Not recently. In fact, they had stopped filing requests for new X-Files. He suspected they were using their own time to investigate things ever since the budget cuts had been announced, but there had never been anything to reprimand them about. Old cases were being closed even though most of their time was unwillingly devoted to other divisions. He managed to hide his surprise when he landed and went to the rental car agency. Mulder had definitely arranged for the car. Not that the place was sleazy, but he couldn't picture the reserved Scully choosing a place called "Engine Joe's Car Rental" with its politically incorrect carictature. As he approached, the man behind the counter got an eager look about him. "Hello, sir. How may I help you?" "Walter Skinner. Is Roger Davis still here?" "Yes, sir. He's in the office and expecting you." Some of the enthusiasm had left the man's voice as Skinner followed him around the counter and into the office. After the introductions were made, Mr. Davis said, "I'm sorry you came all the way out here. I'm sure the local police can handle this." Skinner stared at the small man who looked like he would be more comfortable in a room full of computers and was obviously fishing for information. "I'm sure they can. Have you contacted them?" "Not yet ... I ... uhm ... I called your office again and was told you were on your way here." Skinner made a decision he wasn't sure was the right thing to do. "I want you to go ahead and report the vehicle missing. The police are going to need all the information you have on the condition it was in and I want the mileage it had on it when Mulder and Scully rented it." He noticed the speculative gleam hadn't left the man's eyes. "When I speak with them I will make it clear that the vehicle and its occupants are missing and not wanted for anything," he finished. The eager man seemed to deflate a little. Skinner bit back a smile as he saw Mr. Davis's dreams of appearing on "Real Stories of the Highway Patrol" go up in smoke. He waited as the other man gathered the rest of the information on the missing jeep and contacted the police. When he spoke with the person on the phone, Skinner tried to down play his concerns. He didn't want a state wide manhunt to ensue, alerting a certain someone of Mulder and Scully's possible disappearance. Or more importantly, he didn't want that bastard to know Mulder and Scully had any backup. Missing could easily be changed to dead. * * * * * Scully wasn't sure how much time had passed when she forced her eyes open and reached for her flashlight. She placed Mulder's jacket next to her and dug through her pack. She needed to look at her knee and she wanted to do it before Mulder returned. She retrieved her pocket knife to cut her jeans away. Her knee was swelling so much that the material was almost too tight around the abused area. She gritted her teeth and sat up completely so she could reach the bottom of her pant leg. Stretching, she extended her arms and while doing so, she applied pressure to her knee. The knife fell from her fingers and she almost dropped her head to her knee, but she managed not to hurt herself further. Bracing herself, she scooted forward and grabbed the knife with renewed determination. Changing tactics, she gathered the loose material above her knee and inserted the knife. She didn't want to completely remove the leg of her pants, so she carefully slit a hole in the material to just below the swollen area. Scully stared at the exposed skin for a moment. With her leg bent and the dim lighting, she couldn't judge how bad it was. Slowly she tried to straighten her leg again, but the muscles screamed in protest and the pain brought tears to her eyes. Abandoning that line of action, very gingerly, she wiped at the small cut she had made in her flesh where the jeans had been the tightest and reminded herself of the tube of antibiotic in her kit. She really didn't want to deal with a staph infection on top of everything else she knew was possible. Right now, though, she had to get the swelling down. She looked at the distance she had to cross and set about doing it. Halfway there she broke out into a cold sweat. By the time she reached the water's edge, her whole body was trembling with fatigue. Before she plunged her leg into the icy stream, she tried to quickly set about getting her shoe and sock off. Taking deep breaths, she wasn't entirely sure if the stars she saw dancing before her eyes were due to her exertion or to the light reflecting off the falling drops of water. Swinging her injured leg, Scully placed it in the stream. The dancing stars exploded and she fell back onto the cave floor. * * * * * Mulder paused as he surveyed the area illuminated by the flashlight. For the past ten minutes, he had been steadily climbing higher. The fast moving stream was now about twenty feet below his perch and he watched the water as it moved over the rocks. So far, the path had been wide with only one spot where he had to stoop and the ground wouldn't be too uneven for them. Even if he ended up carrying Scully, there wouldn't be a problem. But now, it looked like the cave narrowed. A ledge was forming and it was going to be tight in some spots. Regardless, he wanted to go a little bit further before he headed back to his partner. "Goddammit." The curse ricocheted through the cave as Mulder slipped. The flashlight fell from his hand and thudded softly into the wet earth. He frowned in confusion when he wasn't plunged into complete darkness. The flashlight had landed face down, but he could still see. Mulder looked around wildly and then straight up, following the muted source of light. The roof of the cavern stretched for several meters above his head and he blinked when a drop of water hit him right below his eye. There was a faint hint of light as it filtered through the water vapor and cast a soft glow around the small opening. With renewed determination he picked up the flashlight and started out again. This time, he would look up occasionally to see if indeed he was getting closer to the surface. * * * * * Skinner was preparing to leave when Mr. Davis asked, "Will you need a car while you're in town?" He stopped and slowly turned. "You said you were booked solid, that was the reason for contacting me." "Uhm ... There was a cancellation this morning." "That only frees up one car. The one Mulder and Scully rented is still missing." He felt like he was being more paranoid than Mulder. Did that bastard want to tail him and was using Mr. Davis's fleet to do it? "I've already arranged for transportation," Skinner finally said when the man failed to respond due to his continued discomfort. "You have my office number. They will forward any updates you report to me," he finished and quickly went to retrieve the car his assistant had reserved for him. * * * * * Scully slowly became aware of how chilled she was. And it wasn't completely due to the fact that she had one leg immersed in an underground stream all the way up to her thigh. She reached for the flashlight she had dropped when she passed out and checked her watch. She realized she must have hit it on a rock because it had stopped. Giving up on that avenue, she scanned the area, looking for a clue as to how much time had passed. There were no immediate answers, so she turned her attention to her knee. The swelling had abated somewhat, but it still resembled a cantaloupe more than a kneecap and the decolorization was localized. Sighing in relief, she eyed the pack that was several feet away. She really didn't feel up to crossing the distance and groaned in frustration. She had to get the elastic bandage out to wrap her knee. Binding it would help keep it from swelling any more. She shivered again as she started moving away from the stream. Already, the cool damp air was making the wet denim even more uncomfortable. It took several minutes, but she managed to cross the ever growing distance to the pack without passing out again. Her whole body was trembling slightly as she dug through the pack for the elastic bandage and the small tube of antibiotic. Once she had her knee wrapped as tightly as she could, she laid her head on the pack and wound Mulder's jacket around her torso. There wasn't anything more she could do for herself at the moment, except try to stay conscious and keep from losing anymore of her body heat. There were reasons why people were trained to aim for a person's knee when they were trying to disable someone. Shattering the knee cap, tearing a ligament, bruising the surrounding tissue, or anything along those lines would render the person immobile. Sometimes the injured person could barely breathe without a whole lot of pain. She now knew that from personal experience and not just as something she read in a medical text or in a self-defense manual. * * * * * Mulder turned another bend and saw what he knew was the light from Scully's flashlight. Picking up his pace just a little, he finished closing the distance with a sigh of relief. The sound caught in his throat when he drew close enough to see her lying still on the cave floor. "Scully?" Cautiously, he finished his approach and took in the details of the scene. His eyes focused on her swollen knee, visible through the rip in her soaked jeans. He could also see a very large shadow, presumably a bruise from where that goon had hit her. "Yeah?" she finally answered. Her voice was weak, but at least she was conscious. "I'm back." Her lips twitched. "That's good. I thought I was starting to hear things." "It wouldn't be the first time, Scully. You keep claiming you hear X-rated sounds coming from our office. I'm beginning to worry about you." He smirked, then frowned as she tried to sit up. She lightly batted his hand away when he tried to assist her. "Did you reach the other end already?" she asked changing both the spoken and unspoken topic. "No. I didn't want to leave you alone that long." "Mulder --" "Scully," he said in the same tone. "There were several places where I could see daylight through the cave ceiling. The terrain isn't too tricky either. A ledge develops at one point, but it shouldn't be too bad, even with me carrying you." He nodded to her leg and said, "How's the knee?" "I had it in the stream for awhile to help the swelling." He raised a dubious eyebrow at the explanation for the wet jeans. "Did it work?" "A little bit." She offered the elastic bandage to him. "I tried doing it myself, but I couldn't wrap it tight enough." He glared at the innocent bandage, as if it were responsible for her injury. "I thought the emergency kit was reserved for me." "Sorry to horn in on your territory," she said as he focused on her knee. He could tell she really meant it. "Just don't do it again, Scully. Are you ready?" "Yeah. I'll let you know if it's too tight." He started winding the bandage around her leg, just below her knee. "OK?" "No. It needs to be tighter. That will help keep some of the swelling down once we get moving." He unwrapped what he had started and tried again. He carefully watched her face and knew when he had hit the right tightness by the tension in her features. "Better?" She just nodded in response. "Are you ready to get started or do you want to rest a moment?" "I've been resting all day. Let's get going." She awkwardly pulled on the shoe and sock Mulder had returned to her, refusing his offer to help. He stood up and watched in concern as she took several deep breaths, as if she was preparing herself for something really unpleasant. "Don't argue," he said and reached to help her stand. He was a little shocked when she didn't protest, but he didn't push his luck by commenting on it. With one hand braced against a former part of the ceiling and one gripping his forearm, she regained her balance and tried to straighten her leg. Gasping softly, she shook her head and said, "My pack." "I'll get it," he said and bent to retrieve the pack and his jacket. "Here." He handed her the jacket and felt a sense of foreboding when she struggled into it. Scully followed the Code of Stubborn and Independent Women. That meant any offering of help or show of concern had to be met with an arched eyebrow or knowing smirk. He felt chilled when she offered a soft "Thanks" instead. "Are you going to yell at me if I offer to carry you again?" "Mulder, I don't yell." "Ah, yes. That's right. You only glare." He grinned in triumph when she did and said, "See." "Mulder..." He continued to grin and swung both packs over his shoulder as she took one hesitant step. He caught her against his side as she lost her balance, her leg refusing to straighten when she tried to put her weight on it. "Scully?" "Give me a second." Her breathing was shallow, but evened out after a few moments. "OK. Seriously, do you want me to carry you?" She nodded and placed her hand on his shoulder. He handed her the flashlight before he stooped to place one arm beneath her thighs and the other around her back. She dug her forehead into his clavicle and bit her lip as he straightened to his full height, fighting a gasp. "Scully?" "This isn't going to work." "God, I'm grabbing your bruise, aren't I." He quickly set her back down, but kept his arm around her waist. "What if I carried you the other way?" "I don't think that will work, either. And don't even think about piggy-back." He wasn't reassured by her rueful expression. "So ... I drag you by your hair?" "In your dreams, Mulder." She paused as she mentally braced herself. "We're going to have to straighten my knee out. You're too tall to use as a crutch." "Now you complain." He set the packs down and said more seriously, "How are we doing this?" "You're going to have to force it," she said as he helped her sit down on the cave floor. "You want me to push your kneecap down?" His lips twisted in distaste. Oozing puss pockets, the display of innards, and walls of bile had the same effect on him. "Scully?" "Believe me, Mulder, this is going to hurt me more than it's going to gross you out." "Then I won't do it." She frowned at his pout. "Then we'll grow roots here, Mulder. I can't do it by myself." "Fine. I'll force it into place, and when you pass out, I'll draw a mustache and glasses on your face." His grin was evil and gave the impression that he was looking forward to just that. His hands, though, were gentle as one rested on her calf and the other settled on her thigh above the bandage. "Tell me when you're ready," he finally said. Scully shifted her back against the rock and placed her palms flat on the cave floor. She nodded once. "Do it." Mulder closed his eyes and quickly pushed hard to straighten out her knee, hoping to get it over with for both of them as soon as possible. He bit his lip as she gasped and he swung his head towards her. Her eyes rolled back in her head and her fingers looked like there were gouging stone, but she stayed conscious. "Scully?" "Rewrap it. Hurry." She was breathing shallowly and her features gleamed with sweat in the dim light. Working quickly, he redid the bandage. "You're going into shock, aren't you?" he asked as he secured the end. "Yes," she said simply. "Is there anyway to prevent it?" "It would be nice if you could teleport us to a sickbay." "Sorry, they took my com-badge. How about some good old-fashioned body heat? We can get moving in a little bit." "Whenever you're ready, Mulder." He bit back the comment on the tip of his tongue at her perfect opening and shifted her almost limp body, moving behind her. He kept waiting for her to protest as he pulled her back against his chest and wrapped his arms around her. "You know, I passed the paintings that prompted this little trip." "And?" "We would have been better off making that left turn in Albuquerque." "Shut up, Mulder." * * end part 2 * * End of the Tunnel (3/6) by Nicole Mason (mason@umr.edu) (11/23/96-7/6/97) Skinner stepped out of the jeep and headed toward the glass doors leading to the lobby of the motel where Mulder and Scully had used their credit cards three days ago. The short walk from the car to the lobby had him almost shivering. The temperature change after sunset was expected and he was grateful he had his coat. He was glad to see the woman behind the counter wasn't a bored teenager praying for the end of her work day. With a practiced air, she asked, "May I help you?" "Walter Skinner with the FBI," he said as he pulled his ID out and presented it. "I have a few questions about two people that stayed here a few days ago. Were you working this shift?" "Oh, my," she said and nodded as she looked at the ID and then back up at him. "How can I help you?" "Three days ago, you had a Dana Scully and a Fox Mulder registered. They stayed only one night. I need to know if they picked up any brochures or asked directions to any place that would require a four wheel drive." He placed photos of the two agents on the counter to help jog her memory. She studied the pictures a moment. "I remember both of them checking in, but ... I don't recall if they looked at any of the brochures. And you would have to speak with Angela, she's in charge of the day shift, to see if they asked her for directions when they checked out." "Angela? Is she here?" The woman, bearing the name tag Theresa, shook her head. "No, but I'm sure she'll be more than happy to answer any of your questions." Skinner frowned at the delay in his plans. "Do you have a number where I could reach her?" Theresa grew slightly flustered as she shifted and reached under the counter. Skinner tensed minutely and then relaxed at the sight of the Rolodex and waited for her to find the right card. "Here," she said and extended the little slip of paper. Skinner dialed the number and impatiently waited through several rings. Finally someone answered the phone and then relayed the message that Angela wasn't home and not due back for at least another hour. Skinner checked his watch, still on DC time, left a brief message and decided to get a room for the night. According to the map, Mulder and Scully's last known stop was almost three hours away and he knew he wouldn't be able to stay awake for that long of a drive. Almost two hours later, after a meal he would rather forget, he was finally able to speak with the other woman. They were in the lobby when he asked, "What about when they checked out? Did they say anything then?" Slowly she shook her head. "I don't think so. He mentioned something about coffee," she offered and pointed at Mulder's picture. "They turned the keys in, signed their receipts, and left. Neither one said much, and they seemed like they traveled often." Skinner heard the last word go up in question, but he ignored it. "What about how they were dressed?" "Dressed? Normal, I guess. Jeans, jackets, boots ... but not real boots. They were hiking boots." "Jackets? In this weather?" The night air might be chilly, but during the day the temperature would seem like a heat wave to people from DC. "Well, it was early morning and cooler a couple of days ago, this heat is really unusual this early in the year, and if they were headed to the mountains, yes. They are only an hour or so away." Mountains ... Desert ... Back roads leading deeper into both ... Shit. Out loud he said, "Thank you. If you see them, please have them contact me." "They aren't dangerous?" Skinner bit back his amusement at the woman's disappointment. "Just to my piece of mind, ma'am. No, they aren't wanted criminals." He placed his card on the counter. "My office will be able to reach me at anytime." "I'll let Theresa and the other managers know." He nodded and headed back to his room. He wanted to check with the office and then he needed to see if there had been any updates on the search for any John/Jane Does that had been reported in a three hundred mile radius of Mulder and Scully's last known location. It was going to be a long night. * * * * * Mulder raised his head from the cave wall and looked at his naked wrist again. Mentally grumbling, he twisted Scully's arm to look at her watch. He frowned when he saw the cracked face and wrapped their arms around her waist again. Judging time for himself by the numbness of his hind quarters, he thought Scully had been "resting" for over an hour. He shifted again, trying to revive the deadened area. "Scully?" "Yeah?" Her voice was soft, but there wasn't any hesitation in her answer. "We need to get moving." "Why? You have a date?" He tightened his arms for a split second and opened his mouth to reply. He knew she heard his teeth snap together as he thought better of what he intended and said, "The water level is still rising." "And? I think we have a few weeks before it will fill the room." He twisted around her shoulder so he could see her expression in the dim light. "You OK, Scully?" She nodded and then leaned forward. "Mulder what do you plan on doing once we get to the other end? We'll still be out in the middle of nowhere." He was angry because she was right. "We'll be able to signal someone." "With what? Our Batman decoder rings?" "That would be the Batsignal, Scully. And they'll have people looking for us." "Who, Mulder? Who did we tell we were coming here? My mother and Skinner don't expect us back until next week. Our last contact with anyone was the gas station this morning. And somehow I don't think those men are going to change their minds and bring the jeep back." "So, you just want to sit here, Scully?" He waited tensely for an answer and relaxed when she patted his leg. "No. Let's get going." * * * * * Skinner again welcomed the slight rush of warm air as he stepped into the service station and out of the early morning chill. One thing that surprised him about the place was that it was located in an actual town and he would be able to set up a base of operations there if necessary. What hadn't surprised him on the road leading into the town was the sign advertising the last gas station for the next hundred miles. The attendant looked up from his paper, but waited until Skinner approached the counter before he spoke. "You lost?" "No. But I am looking for two people. Walter Skinner with the FBI," he said and again showed his ID. The young man made a show of closing the paper and giving Skinner his full attention. "Three days ago, early morning, two people came in to get gas." He placed the photos on the counter. "Do you remember them?" "We don't get that much traffic through here." "So you remember them." "Yep." "Did they ask for directions?" The guy shook his head. "Nope." Skinner looked up in the hopes of gaining some patience from some outside source. He stared at a spot two feet above the man's head and to the right. After a moment, he asked, "You have a surveillance camera." "Yep." "Is it working?" "Yep." "How much of the store does it cover?" "The counter and half of the parking lot. The mirrors cover the aisles." "Does it record sound?" "I think so." Skinner actually felt some of the tension from the past twenty four hours ease it's grip on him. "Where's the tape from three days ago?" "We reuse it if nothing happens. Nothing happened. It's in the machine right now." "Damn," he muttered to himself and gathered the photos again. He thought about finding a spot to think and then going over the maps to find ANY place within a full tank of gas driving distance. ANY place that might have something to do with the X-Files. Stopping in his tracks he turned back toward the counter. "Do you know if there's any hot spots in the area?" "Excuse me?" "UFO's ... recent sightings of legendary creatures ... anything that --" "That might be found in a supermarket tabloid?" Skinner inclined his head. "I was going to stop you before you left ... They didn't say anything TO ME, but ... I overheard them talking." "Two federal agents are missing and you are withholding information about their possible whereabouts. But you probably assumed they were criminals, and if that were the case, I could have had you up on charges of aiding and abetting, not to mention interfering with a federal investigation." The man looked properly chastised and Skinner relented somewhat. "Tell me what they did, what you heard, everything." * * * * * Mulder propped Scully against a ledge and used his sleeve to wipe the sweat from his forehead. They hadn't been moving that long, but he was already starting to feel the strain from trying to stabilize her weight and keeping her from putting any weight on her knee. "Do you have any pain killers in your bag?" He had a growing suspicion and was about to have it confirmed. Her eyes were slightly unfocused, but quickly filled with concern. "Does your head hurt? I haven't checked that bump out." He grabbed her wrists as she extended her hands towards him. "My head is fine. I was talking about you. I know you haven't taken any yet because you're letting me help more than you want to." She nodded and seemed to sag into the wall. "There's some prescription ibuprofen in the med-kit." Mulder glared at her as he set the packs down and tried to find the drugs. "Why didn't you take any?" "I can't on an empty stomach. It makes me sick." He handed her one of the pills, a bottle of water and one of the granola bars. "You forced my to buy a box of these things, Scully, so you're going to have to do your share of eating them." He carefully watched her as she slowly ate the granola bar and forced the pain killer down with some water. He barely caught the bottle as it slipped from her grasp while she was passing it back to him. "Scully?" "I need to rest a few minutes, Mulder." He helped her to the floor and then sat next to her. "We've got plenty of time, Scully. Go ahead and rest." She closed her eyes and Mulder watched closely as she breathed. He frowned in growing concern at the shallow and uneven way she was drawing air. Touching her forehead didn't gain a reaction from her and neither did moving closer and wrapping his arms around her again. "Scully, what are the first signs that someone is getting pneumonia?" He felt her stiffen and then relax as she let out a weak chuckle. "I am not contracting pneumonia. Don't go borrowing trouble, Mulder. We have enough of it as it is." He nodded, not at all reassured by her less than specific answer. Without the incomprehensible medical techo-babble to back up her statements and the Mulder-You're-Being-Stupid look, he wasn't convinced. Several minutes passed before she broke the silence. "Mulder, tell me why we're trying to get to the other end of this thing and not just waiting for the water level to drop." "The town is miles closer. We won't have to go around the mountain." "Five houses does not a town, nor does a molehill a mountain make." "Don't argue semantics. It's a shortcut and they'll have phones." She nodded weakly against his shoulder and Mulder's small smile fell as she settled more of her weight against him. He reached for the flashlight to turn it off and then changed his mind. He knew her eyes were already closed when she didn't protest. * * * * * "They bought some batteries, a couple of bottles of water, some snack food, and a bag of sunflower seeds along with the gas." Skinner frowned. The snacks and water could just be considered road trip food. "Do you remember what kind of batteries?" Mulder and Scully hadn't signed a request for equipment so it couldn't be for the expensive Xenon lights they were always losing. And why hadn't they taken the rechargables? "The big kind you would use in a flashlight. You know, the square ones that you'd use for camping." "What did they say?" "The man... Mulder, you said? ... Mulder ... he asked why then needed more batteries. The woman didn't say anything, she just looked at him and he laughed. Then he grabbed a pack of D batteries, too." "What about where they were going?" "The guy said something about Roswell." "They were headed south?" "No. They went north when they left." Skinner felt a little less self-conscious as he again asked, "What about supposed UFO activity in the area?" "I have no idea. Really. I don't pay attention to that kind of thing." Skinner couldn't shake the feeling that their disappearance was related to the military in some way. "Is there restricted government property nearby?" "National Forest areas, but it's not restricted. People lease land all over the place." He made a mental note to himself to have the Albuquerque office look into the proximity of the nearest government related installation, either military or private contractor. "Is there someone in town I could speak with about the local folklore?" "You mean that National Enquirer stuff? Do you guys actually look into that sort of thing?" Skinner ignored the question and repeated, "Is there someone I could speak with?" "Are you kidding? There's probably four or five people in town alone, not to mention the reservations in the area." Skinner mentally groaned at his oversight. Could Mulder and Scully be at an Anasazi ruin? He was reluctant to contact Albert and ask if he had heard from them, but it was coming down to that. * * * * * Their progress through the easy part was slow and each time Mulder suggested they rest for a moment, Scully didn't protest. "You ready?" he asked softly. He felt her nod against his shoulder and executed a move they had perfected. Without jarring her leg at all, he moved from behind her and helped her get to her feet. Once she was braced against the wall, he felt along the floor for the flashlight. Mulder frowned when Scully couldn't quite mask her groan of pain as the dim light flooded their immediate area. "Scully?" "Just a headache, Mulder, from when they knocked us out." He didn't buy it. The slight tap on the head shouldn't have caused a headache that would be getting worse, especially with the painkillers she had taken for her leg. Still worried about shock turning into pneumonia, he extended his palm to her forehead. "Dammit, Mulder. Just stop it." She grabbed his wrist and attempted to force it away from her. She didn't succeed and the effort almost exhausted her. More of her weight rested against the wall as his hand fell to his side. Mulder's lips thinned as he shouldered the packs once more. "Are you running a fever?" "No," she almost snarled. "You probably wouldn't admit it even if you were about to ignite." He actually bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from saying something further. "Let's get moving," he managed tightly. "Mulder, maybe you should try and get help and then come back for me," she said without reaching for the hand he had extended to her. He shook his head. "I can't just leave you here, Scully. I don't know how long it would take me to get back." "You would be able to move faster, if I'm not making you stop every twenty feet," she argued. "And what if I get hurt? You know what the odds are on that happening. No. We're not separating." Considering the topic closed, he stooped at an awkward angle and pulled her arm around his neck. Placing his around her waist, they set off once again. * * * * * Skinner double-checked the address on the house with the one scrawled on the piece of paper in his hand. Nodding to himself, he got out of the car and headed up the cracked and weed infested walkway. The door opened before he could knock. In the shadows he could barely make out the figure of a slightly stooped man. When no greeting was issued, Skinner decided to get the ball rolling. "My name is Walter Skinner. I'm with the FBI and I would like to ask you a few questions." The man nodded once, but didn't respond otherwise. "Are you Tom Dickson?" Again the man nodded, a little more warily this time. "This may sound --" He cut himself off, refusing to make excuses. "Billy Taylor, down at the gas station said you might be able to help me. I'm looking for any information about the surrounding area that deals with UFO's or similar unexplained phenomena." He could see the man's eyebrows arch in confusion. "I ain't a rancher, so I don't know nothin' about them cattle mutilations thacha hear about." "No. Not cattle mutilations." Mentally, Skinner added an "At least I don't think so." Out loud he continued, "I was thinking more along the lines of unexplained disappearances or lights in the night sky." "Out here, there's all sortsa things to see at night, if a man's in the right frame of mind." The man cackled brokenly at his own joke for a moment. "Are you sure you're not some reporter or writer here for a story? That route would probably get more people to talk to you," he offered helpfully. "I'm sure," Skinner replied. "Do you know of anything like that?" he asked again. "Nah. That kid gets confused. The stories I tell are just stories. Mack Robertson is always sayin' he's seen some things out at his place, though." It was Skinner's turn to nod, hiding his surprise at the volunteered information. "That's the next name on my list." "Do you need directions?" Skinner said yes to verify the ones he had already written down at the gas station. As he walked back to his car, he thought he heard the man cackle again. Skinner figured out why the old guy had been so amused as he double-backed a third time, trying to find the turn off to Mack Robertson's property. Finally, he spotted a break in the fence and a worn path in the sandy topsoil. Five miles and two bottom-outs later, he could see a rusted trailer standing among the scraggly bushes. He was greeted by a shotgun blast seconds later. Skinner slammed on the brakes and ducked to the side, almost cutting himself in half with the seatbelt, as one side of his windshield turned into a spiderweb. Thankful he hadn't been driving more than thirty miles an hour, and that there hadn't been anything near for him to hit, he remained bent at the waist. He raised his head a little to see over the dashboard. Carefully, he reached for his gun. "Git off mah property!" Slowly, he managed to open the door and used it for cover once he had freed himself from the seatbelt. "I only want to ask you a few questions about local stories." He had a feeling that if he mentioned he was with the government, it would not gain him any points. "I know who you are. Now git." "Sir, you have fired on a --" "And I'll do it again before you can recite those fancy words." "Look. I just need to hear what you know about UFO's in the area." That seemed the wrong thing to say. The man fired another shot into the air and then aimed the gun at him. "You're just one of those men in black." Skinner was slightly relieved that at least he knew what the man was talking about. "I'm not an MIB. I'm not even wearing black. I just want to hear what you have to say, not tell you to keep quiet about what you've seen." "You want to hear about the aliens?" "Yes." "Well, hell. Why didn't you say so?" He propped the barrel of the gun against his shoulder and smiled a wide, semi-toothless grin. "Nobody's ever volunteered to listen to my stories before. Come on in." The man stepped under the rusted awning and waited for Skinner to approach. "You had damn well better be almost dead, Mulder," he muttered to himself and cautiously replaced his gun in the holster as he gently closed the door. Two hours, three bottles of bad homemade beer, and eighteen -- no, make that nineteen -- tall tales later, Skinner was more than ready to leave. "You'll tell that other one my stories, won't you, when you find him," Mack asked. Again. Skinner was saved from repeating himself ... Again ... when his cell phone rang. Mack jumped at the apparently unfamiliar sound, but then dismissed it as he reached for another bottle of beer. "Excuse me," Skinner said and hit the TALK button. "Skinner." "This is Jason Trent with the New Mexico Highway Patrol." "You've found something?" he asked without giving the man a chance to continue. "Yes, sir. It seems as if one of our offices has recovered the rental car, but there's no sign of Agents Mulder and Scully. Other than their luggage and a cell phone." He frowned at the dual news. "Give me the location and I want the car gone over for prints or anything else. If needed, the Bureau's Albuquerque facilities will be at your disposal." Skinner scribbled the directions in his notepad and then shut off the phone. As he reached the door, Mack Robertson's voice sounded once again. "You make sure you tell them two my stories when you find them. I'll even talk to them myself if they want to hear it for themselves." Skinner thought it would be fitting punishment for the two missing people, especially if they ended up being hospitalized because of this little escapade. Mack's stories would help them pass the time. * * end part 3 * * End of the Tunnel (4/6) by Nicole Mason (mason@umr.edu) (11/23/96-7/6/97) They had stopped again when Scully said, "Mulder, you need to rest." "We have been resting," he pointed out. "No. I mean sleep. As in you and R.E.M. need to become reacquainted." She poked him in the middle of his chest to emphasize her point. "You know I don't sleep, Scully," he responded as he helped her to sit down on the ground. "Fine. I'll admit it then. Mulder, I need to rest for more than the breaks we've been taking." It was true, but she also knew it would force him to take a longer break than what he had allowed himself. He crouched beside her and asked, "Do you want to sit up or lie down?" She frowned for a moment. "I think propped against the wall would be more comfortable, but I should elevate my leg." "OK," he said and went to work. He help her shift away from the wall and placed the packs he had combined into one under her ankle. He knelt beside her for a moment as he contemplated the next step. Mulder nodded once and then moved to her uninjured side. "Lift your head," he ordered as he laid down and moved his arm under her head. The other one went around her waist and he used it to press her flush against his side. "Is this going to be warm enough for you?" "It'll have to do," she whispered as she closed her eyes and savored the relief the darkness brought. She felt him shift and knew he was reaching for the flashlight near her bad knee. He settled down and minutes later, his breathing told her he was asleep. She must have dozed off as well, because when she woke up, she wasn't in full control of her facilities. The groan left her throat before she could stop it and it startled him out of his light sleep. "Scully?" "Something's wrong, Mulder," she finally admitted. "My headache has gotten worse." "Maybe you just need some more ibuprofen." He moved and through the cracks of her lids, she could sense the light he had turned on. She turned her head away from it, trying to bite back another groan of pain that the movement prompted. "Let me get the pills and water and I'll turn the light back off," he promised. That meant he had seen her discomfort. "No," she said as she struggled to sit up. "I need you to check my pupils out. See how they respond to direct light." "I want you to take this first." She accepted the granola bar, pill and water with very little energy. She then gritted her teeth through the pain as he shined the light directly into her eyes. "Well?" "Uneven dilation. Is the spot where they hit you tender?" She shook her head carefully. "What about nausea?" "A little, but it could be from the pain killers and having nothing to but granola bars to eat for the past ... what? ... twenty four hours." He wasn't buying it. "What about your vision?" She wasn't angry with his persistence. Something wasn't right. "I'm not seeing doubles, but my field of vision seems to be narrowing. It's kinda dark around the edges." Her grin was weak. "But that could just be the cave." "Scully, what if --" "Don't think about it, Mulder. We can't do anything about it beyond what we've already done." She looked at the pack in his lap to avoid his worried eyes. "Aren't you hungry?" He shrugged. "I've had some of my seeds." "Mulder, there's plenty of granola bars." "Not if you need to take them with the pills." He held up his hand. "I'm fine, Scully, and if I get really hungry, I know they are there." She felt like she was sinking into herself and blinked at his frown. Before she could ask, she said, "Mulder, I think I'm going to pass out." He caught her head before it could connect with the cave floor. * * * * * Skinner slowed the car down as the town appeared on the horizon. He followed the next set of directions he had scribbled down, finding the place in one try, and pulled into a parking lot with a double wide trailer in the middle of it. The sign told him he was at the New Mexico State Trooper Headquarters J. He stepped out of the car and swung his gaze between the main building and the three-door garage behind it. One of the doors was open and he could see a dusty Jeep Cherokee with plates matching the ones reported missing along with his two agents and two men in dark blue uniforms. Skinner nodded to the men when they noticed him and turned towards the main building. A man opened the door and approached him. Skinner introduced himself once again and asked, "Have you found anything yet?" He shook his head, identified himself as Jason Trent, and led the way into the garage. "Nothing positive. The only prints on the driver's side matched those of the kids that were picked up. It had to have been wiped clean. We've gotten five off the passenger side interior. They're being run now." Skinner turned on his heel to walk around the jeep, keeping out of the way of the two men working. "So what's the story? Where was the jeep found?" Officer Trent turned to the other troopers. "Let me know when you've finished, Jeff." The man nodded and Trent continued. "The report is waiting on my desk. In short, one of the officers on patrol early this morning, pulled two kids over for speeding. The officer had recognized the kids, but not the jeep. So he checked to see if the jeep had been reported stolen," he said as they crossed the parking lot. They reached the trailer and made their way to the collection of desks at one end of the building. Skinner sat down and scanned through the report. He looked up a second later at the man sitting on the corner of the desk. "Joyriding?" Trent nodded. "The kids claimed they were cutting through the motel parking lot when they saw the unlocked door and the keys in the ignition." Skinner raised an eyebrow and Trent's lips twisted. "I know, very good eyes. Anyway, when the officer saw the plates were indeed missing, he called it in. We've checked with the motels in the area and no one matching your people's descriptions have checked-in to any of them in the past seventy-two hours." Skinner closed the file and rubbed the bridge of his nose under his glasses. "Was there any sign of a struggle?" "Not so far. We did go through their luggage. Agent Scully's gun was in her bag and both of their wallets were under the front seat along with a cell phone. They must have their badges on them and Agent Mulder's gun hasn't been found." He probably lost it, Skinner thought. He said to Trent, "Mulder's the type that takes it to the bathroom with him in his own home. What about --" Skinner was interrupted by one of the officers who had stayed outside to finish going over the jeep. "We've found some blood on the hood." Skinner and Trent stood up and quickly followed him outside. Once there, Skinner stared at the small smear as he envisioned the scenario which would have resulted in such a stain. He could see Mulder glaring over his shoulder at whomever was having him and Scully searched. Scully was calmly trying to diffuse the situation, but Mulder's temper was being sparked by something said by a "military goon." He could even see Mulder as he was knocked unconscious by one of the men and then Scully as she tried to help him. Trent looked closely at the panel. "It's rained heavily in the time frame you've given," he said to Skinner. "Either the jeep was kept indoors, or your agents haven't been anywhere near this area." He frowned at the expanded possibilities. "When you send the blood sample, take some of the mud caked on the underbelly." "Sure thing," Trent said with a slight shrug. "But unless it was in one of the mines, there isn't going to be anything in it you wouldn't find on the roadside." Skinner nodded his agreement, but he wasn't willing to pass up on anything that might lead him to his now officially missing people. * * * * * Mulder gently laid Scully down, making sure her head nor her leg was jarred. "The batteries are getting low. I have to change them," he said. He wasn't expecting a response and didn't receive one from her unconscious form. "You picked one hell of a time to go to sleep, Scully. You missed one of my more memorable stunts. You know what a klutz I am. Well, this time I amazed even me." He checked her pulse, breathing and temperature and was relieved to notice there hadn't been a change for the worse. She was slightly warm to the touch, but she wasn't burning up. Her breathing and pulse were a little rapid and shallow, but again, it wasn't enough to send his own pulse skyrocketing in panic. What worried him were her sporadic bouts of consciousness and the headache that kept getting worse. "Well, Scully," he continued out loud, "I was trying to change the big battery on the flashlight, carry you, balance the other flashlight, and keep walking. And guess what. Yep. I dropped the flashlight and the new battery. And to top it off, they both fell down some crevice that I hadn't noticed at first." He pulled out the bottle of water, as well as one of the granola bars. In between bites and a few sips, he said, "Well, at least I didn't drop you. And we're making pretty good time. I want to scout ahead again and see what kind of terrain we're in for. I don't want another surprise ledge I have to maneuver you over and the bulb got smashed." Gently he raised her head and used the squirt cap on the water bottle to help him get her to swallow a few mouthfuls. She coughed on the last one and Mulder saw her eyelids flutter. "Don't open your eyes. Let me turn the light off." She made a slight movement that he took for a nod. Once they were plunged into complete darkness, he said, "OK." "How long was I out?" "Longer than the last time," he admitted reluctantly. "We've moved." In his mind's eye, he could see her brow wrinkling in confusion. "How did you know that?" he asked as he tried to peer through the darkness. Then he gasped as a thought occurred. "God, I hurt your leg when I was carrying you over that ledge. How bad is it?" Her laughter was soft, but it was also heartwarming. "You were just guessing, weren't you? Here. Drink some more water." Feeling his way along his leg, he found the bottle and passed it to her. He felt her shake her head slightly. "No, thanks." "Scully, you're running a slight fever. I don't want you to get dehydrated." "Mulder, I'm fine." "Please don't start that again. Just drink some." It was several seconds before she said, "I have to go to the bathroom." He could feel her embarrassment and laughed at the two of them and their situation. "Well, Scully, it's not like I can see anything." "Mulder, go check ahead or something." He helped her sit up and groped for the flashlight, ready to turn it on. "Close your eyes. And I'm only giving you a couple of minutes." He stood up and raised his eyebrow in question at her stubborn look. Even with her eyes closed, he knew she could interpret the gesture. "I'm going to need one of the flashlights." She started to slowly open her eyes and Mulder flinched as her pain caused her features to harden. "I'm only going a few yards. Call me if you need me." He wasn't sure if it was his breathing echoing in his ears, or if she actually said it as he moved away. But he could have sworn a soft voice whispered "always." * * * * * Skinner paced back and forth along the length of the parking lot as the sun set the sky on fire. All he could do right then was wait while one of the troopers took the samples they had collected from the jeep to the lab in Albuquerque to be analyzed. As the street lights flickered on, Skinner felt another presence approaching. He turned to see Jason Trent stop a few feet away and he arched an eyebrow in question. It was too soon for any results to be back from the lab. "Yes?" "Somebody named Danny is on the phone for you. He said he might have some more information." Skinner felt his jacket pocket for his cell phone and frowned when he found it was turned on and charged. Danny apparently was as paranoid as Mulder on some things. "Thank you," he told Trent. After he was back inside, he hit the flashing button on the phone at Trent's desk. "Skinner." The voice was distorted, but still understandable. "Sir, I found something in Mulder's phone numbers and faxes from last week." "What is it?" "Three calls to and from a small town about sixty miles from you on his home phone." That explained Danny's reluctance to talk on an open line, and Skinner wasn't going to ask how he got the information so quickly. "Plus a fax from the Department of the Interior for topographical maps of the area. There wasn't a record of the exact location he requested. Only the serial number on the map was logged." A map. An area to narrow the search down to. "Go ahead and fax me a copy here. Do you have a name for the phone number?" "Yes, sir. The number is listed to a Joseph Conway. He's been retired from the D of I Forest Services for eleven years. I've tried contacting him, but so far there hasn't been an answer at the number." Skinner gave a mental sigh of relief as he wrote the number down. "I'll try reaching him from here. Keep on the other numbers in case this one doesn't lead anywhere." Skinner hung up the phone after Danny responded in the affirmative. He turned to Trent and frowned at the man's absence. A second later, Trent was standing in the doorway of the building. "The town's less than an hour away if we take a shortcut." Skinner thought about the surrounding landscape and wondered if his vehicle had enough clearance on the bottom to avoid losing his oil pan on some of the bumps. Also knowing it would keep his mind at least partially occupied while they waited, Skinner decided to go ahead and drive out to Joseph Conway's place instead of trying to contact him by phone. * * * * * Mulder glared at the dimming light in front of him. He had just put new batteries in the flashlight during the last stop, so they couldn't be dead already. His estimation of the people at Duracell dropped a notch when the weak light flickered and returned even more muted than before. Gently setting Scully on the floor, he flexed the cramped muscles in his hand and tried to restore feeling to the digits. Carrying Scully wasn't a problem. And carrying the flashlight wasn't a problem. But holding Scully and the flashlight at an angle where he could see where he was walking was definitely a problem. After a moment, he was able to move his fingers. Turning on another light, he took the first one apart and used the handy-dandy little tester to check the batteries. According to the color-coded readout, there was barely enough juice in it to tell him it was time to replace them. He snarled, "No shit, Sherlock." He shoved the dead batteries into his pack and was tempted to leave the packaging in the cave. Only after he ground it to sufficiently small bits under his heel. Hearing Scully's ecology lecture in his head though, he picked up the plastic and cardboard, ready to properly dispose of it once they got out of the damn cave. A series of numbers caught his eye. "Best if used by June 1995." It was definitely part of a conspiracy. First the word came down from above about the budget cuts. Then before he and Scully could even lodge the first protest, all hell broke loose and information regarding his sister was lost before they could get it verified. Case requests were being denied before he and Scully were able to finish processing those particular paperwork nightmares, while VCS's requests for their time were being granted without consulting either one of them. To fight it, they had begun cutting back on the unofficial overtime they spent doing bullshit work. It hadn't helped. The requests for their time kept coming in from VCS, then BSU and then ISU and Forensics joined in. Skinner had shrugged. It was the "Lame Duck" principle. Although the X-Files weren't officially closed for another few months, no one was going to allow them to start any new cases. They barely had any time to finish up the current ones. To fight, Scully had come up with the idea of using all of their back-logged vacation days. They could get a lot done with a three day weekend and the help of a few friends. The trip to New Mexico had been his idea so they could have a vacation from their vacations. He knew the cave drawings would have been amusing at best, but it was just a crazy enough idea that Scully hadn't known it was just a cover story. The current mishaps only proved to him that thoughtful and considerate gestures from him were dangerous to them both. If he had been an ass and taken off without her, she would have been ready for the worst and he would be the one injured and unconscious. Scully agreed with him by moaning and shifting as she partially became aware of her surroundings. "Light." He took in her closed eyes, the muted light from the partially functioning flashlight and the one he hadn't finished reassembling. With a final twist, the new batteries were secured and he turned off the other flashlight. "They're off," he said softly. He was now able to read her expressions in the complete blackness that surrounded them. Right now, she was trying to mask her pain behind a frown. "How long that time?" He knew her features had tightened further as the whispered question echoed cruelly around her. "Not long. The new batteries weren't so new," he said to explain stopping so soon. "Maybe we should just go back to the other entrance." He shook his head. "We have to be closer to the exit on this side." "Are you sure?" "Yes." She accepted the optimistic statement without commenting further. After a long moment of silence, Mulder realized she had fallen into the deep sleep that bordered on complete unconsciousness. She had told him as long as she was still responding to him, he didn't have to be worried. He scowled at her as he turned on the flashlight. Pausing, his fingers were drawn to the dark shadows under her eyes and he gently tried to brush the bruises away. Her lashes fluttered and Mulder slowly withdrew his hand and tried to distract himself with the packs. When he finished with them, he spent a silent moment just watching her breathe before he carefully gathered her against his chest. * * end part 4 * * End of the Tunnel (5/6) by Nicole Mason (mason@umr.edu) (11/23/96-7/6/97) Skinner stared at the topographical map and shook his head. The interview with Conway had yielded very little information. Apparently, Mulder's phone calls hadn't left that much of an impression on the man. Yes, Conway remember speaking with Mulder. About what? Caves in the area. Any specific area? Not that he remembered. Just if they were common. Local legends? This is New Mexico not Washington State. Big Foot sightings aren't reported that often. Aliens? Somebody always has a story. They usually don't involve caves, though. Cattle or giant carrots, but not caves. So after two hours, all Skinner had left to go on was a large map of the area with several cave sites marked. The only problem was the possibility that the cave might only be known to a few locals, part of private property and not on any of the maps. He was able to narrow things down a bit after he received a fax of another map from the Alburquerque office. This one outlined government property in the area, including sites that weren't listed as National Forest. There were five caves within an hour's drive of his present location. And with two separate teams that were ready to hit the trails, Skinner figured the possibilities could be completely ruled out by morning. Just in time for him to start grasping at straws. * * * * * Skinner killed the engine but kept the headlights on and aimed at the spot where a wide creek was flowing out of the side of the mountain. "That it?" he asked Trent. The man next to him nodded. "Yeah. But that river is flowing awfully fast." Skinner peered into the darkness as he got out of the jeep. "River? That trickle turns into a river?" "That is the river," he said a bit defensively and closed his door. "And with all the rain the past couple of days, I'm surprised it isn't completely covering the entrance." Again Skinner scanned the small area illuminated by the headlights. "Where is the entrance?" "Where the water is coming out. At least once a year, somebody gets stuck in there after a heavy rain." Skinner could picture this scenario as well as the one involving the blood on the jeep. After being knocked unconscious, Mulder and Scully's assailants dragged their bodies inside the cave and waited for the rain to make their drownings seem like a senseless accident. "So it's possible we'll find their bodies in there?" "You mean dead? No," Trent said with a shake of his head. "Not unless they sat at the bottom and let the water cover them. The whole cave doesn't fill, but a pool does form with enough rain." "Why didn't you mention this place sooner?" Skinner demanded. "Sir, you've seen the maps. We have quite a few caves in the area, especially with the mountains nearby. The other crew is just as likely to find some trace of them." Trent finished his statement by turning on his flashlight and dropping to his knees in the middle of what he considered a river. Skinner followed grimly. Once inside, he stood up and tried to ignore the way his new, wet jeans were sticking coldly and uncomfortably to him in places. He used the wide beam light to scan their immediate area and frowned. "How far back does it go?" The other cave they had checked out had only extended about as far back as the length of a football field. The one seemed much larger. "All the way through the mountain." Oh, that helped. "How far is that?" Trent shrugged. "Five miles straight through. Maybe. I don't know how much this winds around though. Could be a lot longer." Skinner continued walking until he came to a narrow space. It wasn't as small as the entrance, but he still would have to crawl through the water. He dropped to his knees, determined to eliminate this possibility before they moved onto the next cave. Grimacing at the feel of wet mud oozing through his fingers, he fought the urge to shout their names. Then he realized that even if Mulder and Scully were being held in here by somebody, the flashlights he and Trent were using would announce their presence in advance. Not to mention the way sound carried and echoed in the hollow space. He could hear Trent's breathing as if it were his own. Once he was on his feet again, Skinner took a deep breath. "Mulder!" He waited a moment as his voice echoed and then faded in waves. He tried again. "Scully!" Nothing. "If they were here, they may be unconscious. Three days without food and water. They might --" "No." Skinner shook his head. "They didn't have a lot, but I'm not worried about them starving yet. You said this goes all the way through? If they were here and couldn't get out this way, they would have reached the other end by now and gotten out that way." Trent started nodding but then shook his head. "Not unless they have some repelling equipment. The way up to the entrance is steep. And once you're at the entrance, it's a twenty foot drop to the cave floor." Skinner frowned. "Then they would have had to turn around and come back this way to wait out the water." "If they could," Trent agreed and then pointed out a possibility Skinner didn't want to think about. "But with that blood ... One of them may be hurt." "Most likely Mulder. And if he is, it's not that bad. He has a remarkable recovery rate." "Kinda like one of those Immortals on the TV show, huh?" Skinner smiled at the thought. "Not quite. Although the insurance people probably wish he was." They continued to walk for several more minutes until Skinner froze at the sight of something on the wall. "What's this?" Trent frowned. "Some kids' idea of a joke. It looks older than some of the ones at the entrance. Park Services probably already has this bit of vandalism recorded." Skinner tilted his head and let his imagination go. "Does it look like aliens to you?" The other man's brow wrinkled in confusion. "Your man would come all the way out here for this?" "It's possible." Skinner thought about all the other, almost invisible, leads Mulder had followed in the past. "It is possible," he repeated. "Then let's get the other crew out here." Skinner was reluctant to limit the search to this one cave, but he nodded. "Did you put any climbing equipment in the truck?" "Yeah. You want to head up the other side and see if there's any sign of them? It's going to be difficult at night." Skinner didn't like the idea of climbing a mountain at night either. "Maybe they made it to the road. We --" "There's a town not too far from the cave. We passed through it before that turn-off. And it should be only a few miles away once you get down the side of the mountain. It can probably be seen from the entrance if they were able to climb up to it." "Let's go." Skinner headed in the direction they had already been at a fast pace. Along the way, he weighed the possibilities. They *probably* had food and water, but not a lot. The purchases at the convenience store might be able to sustain them for a few days. Which meant that if they had made it to the other entrance, they would be weak from lack of food. And Mulder was most likely injured, and unless it was really serious, Scully wouldn't leave him behind. Which meant they would be moving slowly. The other crew should have finished checking out the sites they were assigned. Which meant he could have them check out the other one he and Trent were supposed to handle. Or he could have them head to this one while he and Trent went to the other entrance. When they reached the place where they had to crawl, Skinner cursed as something bit into the palm of his hand. Using the flashlight, he studied the small, sharp object. It must have been washed down to this point by the creek. It was no longer a question of whether or not Mulder and Scully had been IN the cave; it was no a matter of whether or not they had left. Skinner threw the sliver of a sunflower seed shell to the side and continued at a faster pace. He would have the other crew come in this entrance and he and Trent would head up the other side of the mountain regardless of the terrain and the conditions of the climb. He was also going to make sure a medical team was on standby. Along with a helicopter if the EMT's couldn't handle whatever condition Mulder and Scully were found in. He was definitely going to take the cost of this out of their paychecks. * * * * * Mulder awkwardly set Scully down and tried to catch his breath. He was almost grateful she was unconscious and not just in the deep sleep anymore. He had abandoned careful exploration for speed. They had to almost be at the end. They had to. Neither one of them had planned on this thing to last more than a few hours. A half a day at most. After checking out the cave and listening to Scully's lecture on the futility of this particular case, he had planned on checking them into a hotel of Scully's choosing. One with room service and a hot tub in the room. He had even planned on letting her borrow one of his T-shirts if she claimed she didn't have a swimsuit. A dark one so she wouldn't get suspicious and realize he had planned it all along. Well, there went that idea. It looked like she would be spending the rest of her vacation in a hospital thanks to him. But at least she couldn't call him paranoid any more. The goons had been watching them and attacked without any provocation on his part. He'd rather she still thought it was all in his head. After beating himself up some more, he stood up and studied the next obstacle in front of them. The last ledge he had maneuvered her over hadn't been that bad. There had been a two or three foot base he had been able to use with a minimum amount of twisting so he wouldn't bash Scully's head or catch her legs. But this one would be tough without trying to carry her dead -- "Scratch that," he mentally ordered -- unconscious weight over it. Six inches in some spots. That was all there was to it. And the space between the ledge and the opposite wall was just wide enough for someone to fall down through. Maybe taking the high road wasn't the way to go this time. He had avoided going through the creek on the other ones because he really hated the feeling of cold, clammy underwear crawling up his butt. He checked on Scully and made sure she at least looked like she was resting comfortably. Then he divided the pack into two again, leaving water next to her and a flashlight in her hand. "I'll be right back," he promised. "I'm just going to check out which way is easier. I don't know about you, but I'm hoping the crevice stays wide enough. We'll have a hell of a time trying to get you over that ledge otherwise." Quickly he followed the twisting narrow path. A couple of spots had him moving sideways like a crab. Although it would resemble a "Weekend at Bernie's" moment, there would still be enough room to hold Scully up and move her that way if he couldn't wake her up and have her help. The path then narrowed down to just a crack that only Tooms could fit through. Aiming the flashlight above his head, he could see the shadows of the cave extending further. "Shit. It looks like we'll have to take the high road." He studied the wall leading up to the ledge to see if there was a way to scale it without backtracking the entire way. Seeing a few things that might pass as handholds, he then tried to figure out where to put the flashlight so that he could still see. Tucking it in his belt wouldn't work. He would end up blinding himself. But wait ... The flashlight had a plastic loop at the end. Oh, joy. He could put it between his teeth and pray he didn't knock himself unconscious by bumping his head into anything. And lucky him, the same flashlight had ended up sitting on the cave floor more than once and the loop was covered in mud. Wiping most of the goo off and stepping back a few feet to a wider area, he pretended he wasn't doing what he was really doing and started to climb. Mulder concentrated more on searching for the next handholds in the dim light instead of the nasty tasting piece of plastic that he had clenched between his teeth. It worked though. A few minutes later he was taking the flashlight out of his mouth and holding it in his hand, pointing it so he could see down the crevice. It really wasn't that high. Ten, maybe fifteen feet. He shrugged and then followed the ledge the few feet further until it became one solid floor again. He continued straight for several minutes and then headed back. Knowing he had to find out how bad the ledge was to navigate, he went back the way he hadn't come. The path narrowed and widened in almost the opposite way the crevice below did. The worst parts on the high road were when he would be able to fit through the passage carrying Scully easily on the low road. But that also meant there were only a few really bad spots to go along with the few really good spots. The hardest part was going to be right at the beginning. If he could wake Scully up long enough to make it over that stretch, they would be able to do the rest of it without much of a problem. Otherwise he would have to carry her over his shoulder and his balance, her head, and her knee, would not like that very much. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Scully call his name just as he cleared the worst part. Her eyes were closed, and she hadn't made an effort to turn on the light he had left for her. "I'm here," he said softly. "Are we at the end yet?" "Getting there," he lied. "I'm glad you're awake." She cracked one eye open and then the other. "Why am I wishing I was still out of it?" "Because you love my descriptions of what I've screwed-up now?" "I don't know, Mulder. I really enjoy experiencing some of them first hand." He knelt beside her and helped her sit up. In a somber voice, he said, "There's a ledge." "Is it bad?" "It's narrow," he admitted. She closed her eyes and started to lay back down. Quickly, he reached to shake her shoulder. "You gotta stay awake, Scully. I won't be able to carry you over it." She made a motion with her hand and said, "What about the creek bed?" "I tried it, Scully. I had to climb the wall --" "It's about time, Mulder. You've been making me do that for years." He grinned slightly. "Do you think you'll be able to stay awake this time, or should I let you rest?" She opened both of her eyes and propped herself up. "I'll stay awake." He was doubtful. If it was possible for her to control it, she would have been doing it all along. "Scully --" "I'll stay awake, Mulder," she interrupted forcefully. She then softened her voice. "Let's get moving before I make a liar out of myself." He helped her stand and then retrieved their things. Handing her the flashlight, he wrapped his arm around her waist and said, "You hold this while I navigate." "As long as there isn't a left or right turn involved I guess I can leave it up to you." As they awkwardly neared the ledge, he said, "You know, Scully, you're not much of a smartass while you're unconscious. I think I like you better that way." He felt her body relax again just as they cleared the first three feet on their tip-toes. Jerking her closer, he tried to reach for the flashlight before it fell from her loose grip. "Be careful what you wish for, Mulder," she said softly. He didn't breathe a sigh of relief at her continued awareness. He didn't breathe at all until they reached the other side and Scully once again passed out. "You know, Scully, you really do a bad damsel in distress. Or is it I do a bad knight in shining armor?" He sat down next to her to look at her knee. One jagged rock had leapt out at them. Her sore knee had connected with it, almost sending them both over the edge, and now blood was showing through the elastic bandage. "Scully, turn me down flat and get me committed the next time I suggest something like this, OK?" Her comment from earlier whispered through his head, once again warning him about his wishes. * * end part 5 * * End of the Tunnel (6/6) by Nicole Mason (mason@umr.edu) (11/23/96-7/6/97) The storm came in just as Skinner and Trent were getting the ropes out of the back of the jeep. It was just a light sprinkle that turned into a steady curtain of rain. Highly annoying, but even in the dark it didn't hinder their ascent. At first. "We'll have to wait until this clears," Trent called several minutes later as he slipped on the loose rocks and wet earth, falling to his knee. Skinner continued up the side of the mountain without replying. A roar of thunder preceded the crash of lightening that illuminated the entire valley for a split second. And then the downpour started. Realizing the stupidity of his actions, he headed back to the jeep. Trent was already inside, trying to shake off the chill. "Will it be OK to wait here, or is this a flash flood plain?" Skinner asked as he slammed the door behind him. Very little could be seen even in the direct beam of the headlights, and Trent shook his head. "We probably should head down to the town. We can wait the storm out in the diner and that will also give the others time to get here." Skinner nodded at the delay and started the engine. "And while we're there, I'll speak with the people in the labs and see what they've got. They've had more than enough time to find something out." That was a slight exaggeration. At most, with the travel time involved, maybe they had finished prepping the samples. He wasn't exactly sure what went into analyzing things any more. It had been years since he had been in the field on a regular basis, and even then, he, like all of his co-workers, would send things off with the command "Analyze this." The results would come back, sometimes weeks later, and then they would have to be translated. Usually, he would have to interrupt the long winded spiels with "Just answer yes or no." They would reply "Yes, but" or "No, but." He would ignore the rest until it was time to justify his actions to someone and then he would let the lab people confuse the others as well. He was pretty sure the procedure hadn't changed, and he would need to have his "Yes or No" questions at the ready when he spoke with them. He compiled them as he drank several cups of bad, but strong, hot coffee. An hour after their arrival, the second crew checking the caves walked into the diner. Soaking wet and similarly covered in mud, they downed the coffee and attempted to eat some of the food. Skinner winced and avoided his eyes at the sight of the side dish of guacamole one of the men ordered. It reminded him of green baby shit and would cause an immediate loss of appetite when spotted. Not that he had much of one anyway. Some of the lab tests were in. The blood they had found matched Mulder's type. The fingerprints on the hood were his as well, while the ones on the side panel belonged to Scully. The prints on the inside belonged to Mulder, Scully, and the two kids that had "found" the vehicle. The other partials that had been lifted still hadn't been identified, but Skinner was willing to bet that they belong to the car's previous renters. And so far nothing out of the ordinary had been found in the soil sample he had sent. Tests were still being run, but the results up to five minutes ago were inconclusive. "Tell me what you know about the cave," he demanded of the three men around him, the cook, the waitress and two of the townspeople. "What do you need to know?" a man in a ratty cowboy hat asked as he chomped on a wad of tobacco. "How long does it take to reach the other end?" "Eight, maybe nine hours. It winds a lot and then them caves ain't really places you can move fast in," he said with a shrug. Skinner frowned. Even with one of them injured, they would have been ablt to reach the other end by now. And maybe they were there, but stuck because of the wall they had to climb. "Are there any really dangerous spots? Like sudden drop-offs that could be missed if a flashlight was weak?" "Naw. There's a few ledges and such, but there's lots of warning before you get to em." That was from someone else who had just walked into the place, dripping water all over the floor and letting Skinner know that the rain hadn't let up. "What about the ceiling? Are cave-ins a danger?" The man with the chewing tobacco spoke in between spits. "One of them gov'ment types is out every coupla months checking on that. Least that's what he claims. But they haven't closed the cave off, not that it would keep some of the local kids outta there. Somebody's always doing somethin' stupid up there." If the local kids were using the cave as a party place, then it couldn't be a secret government stashing site. They would have closed off one of the entrances and stationed a guard at the other one, thereby making the place completely inconspicuous. "So it's just the main path? There aren't any side tunnels that go deeper into the mountain?" The same newcomer answered. "Just the one, not too far from this side. But it dead-ends after a little bit." "Does anybody have a map of the inside of the cave?" Skinner asked as he rubbed the bridge of his nose under his glasses. The waitress called her home to see if her son had one. When it arrived, Skinner and the three troopers studied the hand drawn map as they continued to drink the coffee and wait out the storm. * * * * * Mulder shifted Scully in his arms and tried to jiggle the flashlight, encouraging it rather violently to continue working. The beam strengthened for a few minutes, but then returned to the dim, pale light from earlier. He looked up at the ceiling again to see if he could spot the stray rays of sunlight once again. He had been able to see the small dots of light only sporadically. But he could also tell the cave dipped up and down within the mountain. Not a damn thing about the place was level for any length of time. He came to the spot he had last checked out by himself. The cave took off in two different directions and he needed to rest before he went to check both of them out. He turned the light off after he set Scully down and sat by her side. She hadn't woken up since their encounter with the ledge. At his best guest, that had been over four hours ago. And he was basing that judgement on the rate of his consumption of sunflower seeds and bites of the dry granola bars. Scully could have at least chosen the chewy chocolate chip kind instead of the fat free -- ick -- healthy ones. But she had probably picked those specifically because it would lessen the chance he would mooch one off of her. By feel, he opened the wrapper of another bar and took a small bite. Then he swished the water around in its bottle to see how much was left. He would have to stop eating the damn things because they made him thirsty and just let his stomach protest. What he had deemed as his portion of the water was running low and he wasn't anxious to use the tablets Scully had stashed in her First-Aid kit either. First-Aid kit. More like Survive a Day with Mulder kit. After the satisfying meal, he lay down and curled around Scully. He just needed to get a few minutes' rest. Then he would check out both tunnels. The map had shown this point was near the end. They had to almost be there. * * * * * Mulder woke up, checked Scully's breathing and tried to wake her. When he couldn't, he patted the ground until he found the flashlight and turned it on. Standing up, he took the tunnel leading off to the right. Not too much later, he was staring at a dead end. Spinning around, he tried to see if he had missed something that resembled another crawl space. He hadn't. Snorting in frustration, he turned on his heel and practically ran back to the spot where he had left Scully. She was still unresponsive as he gathered the things into one pack again and then picked her up without any hesitation or awkward fumbling. His pace was brisk and after stumbling twice, he had to slow down. But he couldn't. The batteries in the flashlight were the last of the new ones that he could use. There were still two that he hadn't even taken out of their packaging, but they were for the flashlight that had taken a header down the hole he had told Scully about. They had to reach the end soon because he wouldn't be able to make it back to their starting point even moving by himself without any light. And somehow he doubted the two little candles Scully had also managed to pack would be enough for him to get all the way back. If he ever went into a cave again, it would be with more than the recommended two flashlights and two sets of back up batteries. His little pack would also have more than the one book of waterproof matches and two candles. He would carry more than a couple of quarts of water and he would have enough food to fill him up for at least three meals. The First-Aid kit would also contain a complete medical library and enough drugs to treat every conceivable ailment. In short, he wouldn't be going back into a cave any time soon. He reached that conclusion as he reached the end of the tunnel. Dropping to his knees and ignoring the rock that bit into his flesh, he gently set Scully down. He turned off the flickering flashlight and tried to see if any light from the outside world had made its way through even the tiniest crack. Darkness. Complete darkness. That smelled like rain. * * * * * The rain finally let up around midnight. Without waiting to see if it would start up again, Skinner headed to the jeep with Trent at his heels. The other two state troopers went to check out the other entrance, although everyone was doubtful the way would be clear into the cave. Two other trucks from town followed them up the side of the mountain as far as they could. When Skinner stopped the jeep at the same spot from earlier, there were three sets of lights to help show the way. The path up was slick, but without having to hold onto a flashlight he and Trent moved quickly. He was only slightly out of breath when they reached the top and Skinner stuck his head through the opening as Trent uncoiled the rope. Using the flashlight, he frowned at the absence of Mulder and Scully. If they weren't here, he had no idea where to look next. But he was pretty sure this was it. Danny had tracked down another number which had led to a map. It was off scale, but it matched the one the waitress's son had given him. Trent tossed one end of the rope through the hole next to him and Skinner watched as it almost touched the ground. One of the cowboys had made the climb after them and wheezed heavily as he extended his hand for the other end. Trent nodded and then easily went over the side and down the rope. Skinner followed a moment later. Once at the bottom, he scanned the area again, using the high powered flashlight. "How often did you say people came up here?" Trent shook his head. "The cook said the other side is more popular. Less of a hassle to get to." He pointed his light at the walls and said, "No graffiti, so whoever does use this way is at least environmentally conscious." "Come on then. Let's get moving." Skinner started off quickly and took the lead. Trent didn't bother to answer. He was moving more slowly, scanning the walls and studying the ground. It was only about fifteen minutes later, that they came to the fork in the cave. The creek bed was there and moved off in both directions. Skinner headed left, going towards the other entrance. Trent's voice stopped him cold. "Sir, I think they got at least this far." Trent was pointing to an impression in the silt that covered the floor at this part. Now that he was looking, Skinner could also see one set of faint footprints. Large foot prints. But there was also a spot that looked like somebody had slept there. The dirt had shifted to conform to clothing, much like sand under a beach towel. There were two bodies lightly outlined but only the one set of footprints could be seen around the entire area. "Damn. It's Scully that's hurt. Mulder's probably loosing his mind." Skinner studied the footprints more closely. Instead of going left, they continued the other way. After they went into and came out of the offshoot he and Trent had just been in. There were no prints coming back from the way that was supposed to be a dead-end. * * * * * Rain. Rain meant clouds. Clouds meant no stars, no moon. No light. But Mulder could smell the rain. It wasn't his imagination. If it was part of his imagination, he would have conjured the smell of wet concrete or fresh cut grass. This was raw earth and it wasn't just the smell of the cave. Maybe he had missed seeing the entrance or another off-shoot. He was near exhaustion, slightly dehydrated, extremely hungry and he knew he was starting to panic because of Scully's continued unconsciousness. When the rain let up, and the clouds disapated, he would be able to find the way out. The town probably wasn't close enough for the lights to be able to filter into the cave, especially if it was raining hard. He turned the flashlight on again and walked the perimeter of the room, hoping to find the spot where the rain was coming in. He stopped when he realized he was wasting the last set of working batteries and returned to the center with Scully. Digging through the pack, he studied each set of near dead batteries and approximated how much time was left in each. Even moving by himself, there wasn't enough juice left to make it back through to the other end. And even if he did, the rain he could smell meant the other entrance would be flooded. He never would have thought the entire state would see as much rain in a year as it had in the past few days. He turned the flashlight off and just sat for a moment. He could wait for a few hours. Either the rain would stop or the sun would come up and if he couldn't tell when that happened, he would find the spot where he had missed the other exit. Again, he lay down next to his partner and tried to keep her warm. He must have fallen into a light doze and after awhile something woke him up. Scully. She was shaking violently, her skin clammy. It was almost like she was having a seizure of some sort. Blood clot. She had said a blood clot was a possibility with her injured knee. But would it cause seizures? He sat up and pulled her onto his lap, trying to make it so that she had very little contact with the cool cave floor. After eighty-seven seconds, the shaking stopped. Mulder didn't relax though. Carefully, he laid her on the ground and once again separated the pack. He couldn't wait for the storm to pass. Scully couldn't wait. He had to find the exit. He had taken twenty, maybe thirty steps, when he stopped and turned around. Scully was calling him. * * * * * Skinner stood up and practically ran through the cave. Calling their names, he barely waited for his voice to fade before he tried again. With each lack of a response, he felt the walls of the cave closing in on him. Almost an hour later, he came to the end. Skinner stood frozen, staring at the scene until Trent caught up with him and stood silently by his side. Mulder was holding Scully and neither one was moving. "I'll go get some of the others to help." Skinner didn't reply as Trent awkwardly patted his shoulder and left him with the silence and his agents. * * end * *