Chapter Four
Hardee County Sheriff's Office, Wauchula, FL
June 3rd, 2001, 4:32 p.m.
"Sheriff? Scully? Hello?" Mulder called as he strolled through the front door. Something did not seem right to him; his "Spooky sense" was making all the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. But yet he had to know what was going on here.
Clampett's squad car was outside, but inside, no one was at the reception area. It was possible that the cop had gone to the john, but there was no response from the outhouse when Mulder had gone around back earlier.
So now as he made his way through station, he removed his Walther .380 from his ankle holster and shifted the magazine to load a bullet into the firing chamber. The door separating the jail from the rest of the office was wide open, which now even made him more paranoid.
He stepped to one side of the open door, took a quick look around the corner, and strafed back. Seeing no immediate threat, he cautiously entered the hallway. A few muffled cries lead him further down the block, but unfortunately, he did not see the tripwire across the ninety degree corner. His ankles eventually led to his downward movement, forcing him to drop the gun, and he was shoved from behind right into a cell. The door slammed shut right after he stumbled onto the cement floor. Damnit. Not again.
Mulder rose onto his hands and knees then slowly got up and turned to witness Scully turning the lock with Clampett's keys. "What's gotten into you?" he asked.
After she succeeded her task, she tossed the keys through a slightly ajar window, and slipped through Mulder's cell bars. "Didn't you say something about a rough night in the pokey?" she whispered and hung her arms around his neck.
"Okay, you are definitely not Scully." It suddenly dawned on him that she had just passed through a solid object, and he unhooked himself from her grasp immediately. "Just what in the hell are you?"
"I believe that that 'most obvious comment award' goes back to you, Mulder," she smirked.
"Oh, God." That remark had been passed by him not an hour ago, and that was made to the Scully that had just blown his mind along with some other things. "All right. Now I really want to know who you are." And the fact that he had enjoyed it all made him exceptionally nervous.
"Don't you relish me in this form?" She sneaked her hands into his pockets, grabbed his cell phone, and threw it into a wall. The phone smashed into thousands of pieces instantaneously.
"What are you?" he snapped and pushed her away from himself.
"I thought you'd be glad to finally meet. Weren't you looking for me?" Scully changed into Lord Farnor, and he passed through other side of the bars again.
"I never heard of any of the gods having the power to travel through solid matter before," Mulder commented.
"That is an incorrect judgment," Farnor stated and frowned.
"Don't you have a plane to catch?"
"There are other methods of travel available to me."
"Namely what?"
"A human could not possibly fathom our technology, and if I tried to explain it to your finite mind, I'd probably martinize your cerebrum."
"So why do you want to destroy the world?" Mulder flatly inquired.
"All things must come to an end."
"Yeah, but-"
"I did give one of your beings a chance to save your world."
"You couldn't have possibly given your formula to a more stupid person."
Farnor shrugged and gave him a coy smile.
"Or was your formula meant to do anything in the first place? My real partner had it analyzed and said that it was basically nothing more than just fruit punch."
"I suppose your civilization will never know, will it? The instructions given were not followed; therefore, it has been rendered inactive."
"Is it possible to get a second chance? Can you bring some more?"
"I apologize, but it is not. Travel from Gladsheim in the Asgard world to your world limits the supplies we can bring. I have not quite comprehended the reason why yet, but that will no longer matter soon." Farnor rolled up his left sleeve and gazed upon his many wrist watches.
"You still haven't explained how you can pass through stuff."
"I need not explain myself to a human being."
"Last time I checked, gods didn't have fingerprints. You can't be a deity."
"Ah, so there are some among you that utilize your craniums. It's too bad that your species cannot be saved."
"There's got to be something more to do," Mulder pleaded.
"There is not. Ragnarok will come; my father will play his part as well as my other brothers and sister."
"And how do you intend to bring about a worldwide snowstorm if you're not a god?"
"Since my arrival, several members of our fleet have descended upon your atmosphere with our meteorological transmogrifiers." Farnor put his left sleeve back down and rolled his right up for Mulder to see. The blinking object had several green LEDs and resembled a diamond bracelet. "I carry a transmitter, as do several others on your earth."
"So you're not acting alone on this?"
"Affirmative. There is another member of my team in this tiny hamlet; he is under the guise of a historical professor. I believe you met him already."
"Kowolski," Mulder nodded. "I had a feeling that he was too intelligent to really belong to this town." After a beat, he continued. "But why are you doing this? If you're not a god, then why would you claim to be one?"
"I chose a form that humans could relate to and comprehend in order to give your kind one last chance. Professor Kowolski, as you know him, had tried and failed."
"But what about...-"
"There were various others we have used; Babe Ruth, Willie Mays, Michael Jordan...and more recently, Mark McGwire. But now there is no choice."
"How many more of you are there on earth?"
"I cannot answer that question. But if you'll excuse me, I must now leave."
"Wait a second." Farnor was about to exit through the door leading to the outside world, but he hesitated as he listened to Mulder. "How can you transmit the code to destroy the earth if you're still on it? What is this, some kind of suicide mission?"
"The process only requires that the transmitters remain present on earth in their active state--and it does not necessitate a bearer," he replied ambiguously. "You're right, Mr. Mulder, it is too bad that I did not meet you in that establishment of dietary supplements. The end for Earth could have been quite more positive and...different."
"Fmufu...fmufu...mufu!" another voice shouted as loud as he could. Farnor's attention turned to a restrained and gagged Sheriff Clampett in a cell next to Mulder's.
"And your kind has this astute baboon to thank for its destruction," Farnor sneered.
"I have only one more question; I've been searching for life elsewhere all my life. And now that you've found Earth, all you want to do is destroy it? Why?" Mulder demanded.
"To make way for our civilization. Now that we fully comprehend that our two cultures cannot co-exist, there is only one logical conclusion: one must be eradicated."
"Is this your true form...as this Scandinavian blonde male?" Farnor's left eyebrow raised upwards as he reached for a button on his belt. "I must know, please."
"It is not. This is a projected image. That is why I was able to pass through matter so easily."
"But how did you...well...um..." Mulder cleared his throat embarrassingly.
Farnor gave him a half-smile in reply and depressed the button.
"Fmufu! Fmufufmufu...fmufumfumfufu...mmmmufu!" Clampett's muted voice exclaimed through the tape covering his lips.
MTM Bed & Breakfast, Wauchula, FL
June 3rd, 2001, 5:00 p.m.
As Scully parked her rented sedan in front of their cabin, a strange man resembling Jackie Gleason wearing a bloodied apron and glasses sat upon a parking block just outside of it. Alarms were blaring in her head warning her of immediate danger and that Mulder could also be in trouble, so she got out of the car very gingerly, keeping her hand rested upon the covered SIG in her hip holster.
The man arose when she approached the cabin and held out his hand in greeting with a smile. The hand itself was not bloody, but Scully still eyed it. "I'm told that you are Dana Scully--partner and confidant to Mr. Fox Mulder, are you not?" he asked with a welcoming beam.
"Yes, and you are...-"
"How silly of me. I am Professor Stanley Kowolski, of Hardee Community College." He observed her wary body language and gazed down at his apron.
"Please forgive my appearance. When I am not able to teach, I must provide for myself otherwise, namely...with meat slaughtering."
"Oh." Her hand left the gun and clasped his finally. "It's odd that Mulder didn't mention that earlier. So you're a butcher?"
"Mmm, yes," Kowolski agreed. "I was supposed to meet him not long ago. That is why I rushed to get here straight from work."
"And you were going to go find your Norwegian god with him, I see," Scully said and nodded. "You tried knocking, right?"
"I am aware of that means of communication, yes, and I did try."
"Well, given Mulder's pattern of unpredictable behavior..." especially when he's upset with me, she thought, "...I'd say he left on his own already."
"I find that difficult to believe; I was supposed to guide him to the airstrip," Kowolski told her as she unlocked the door.
"Stay behind me, please," she ordered and he obeyed. Scully stayed clear of the door as she pushed it wide open and pulled the SIG off of her hip. "Mulder?" she shouted and entered the darkened cabin.
Moments later after searching and finding no one, she motioned for Kowolski to enter. As he stepped through the door jamb, he noticed a singular object in the trash can nearest a bureau of drawers. "Hello, what's this?" he inquired of himself and picked it up. Just as he had unrolled the crinkled ball, Scully politely snatched it from him.
"I don't remember writing this," she commented and frowned. She traveled over to the bedside night stands, turned on one of the lights and held the note up to examine it further. "This isn't my handwriting."
"What does it say?"
"I think..." she paused to decipher the hieroglyphs, " that I went to see Sheriff Clampett because he called me about Farnor."
"And did you yourself actually receive a phone call?" Kowolski asked.
"No, I did not." Scully laid the crinkled paper down on the night stand and arose from her bed to scrutinize Mulder's. The sheets were rumpled, but yet she remembered in her brief exploration of the cabin that there were fresh towels in the bathroom. Gump's housekeeper had positively been here, and she would not have left one bed unmade.
"Something in this situation does not add up; that makes me nervous," she mumbled the latter part of her commentary.
"I think it does," Kowolski answered her unasked question. "Lord Farnor was here with your partner substituting your presence."
"I didn't quite...catch that." Scully's eyes roamed over the sheets, and she picked up one of the pillows.
"I said that Lord Farnor was here with your..." He trailed off as she found a small golden hooped earring, and her eyes instantaneously narrowed to near slits.
"Never mind. I understand now," she nodded and licked her upper lip. "What time was Farnor's flight supposed to leave?"
"Six o'clock, I believe. What're you going to do?"
"In that case, you'd better draw me a map and give me directions to get there since I'm the one that has a gun."
Kowolski agreed and picked up a pen from the nightstand along with a pad of paper. "Okay. Just take I-75 North for about fifteen minutes or so." He drew a few lines as he spoke. He then set the paper onto the table and ran his finger along the drawing. Scully leaned forward with interest. "Then you'll be wanting to exit here at number one sixty."
Unfortunately, she was giving him her full attention and not minding where his other hand went, which was right beneath his apron. Before she could defend herself, he immediately withdrew a French knife and grabbed her by the wrist. "I am sorry, my dear, but I cannot allow you to stop Lord Farnor, not so long as it is within my power to do so," he declared himself piously.
"Freeze, dirt bag!" Deputy Gump bellowed at the top of his lungs from the cabin's open entrance. Kowolski's eyes turned towards his new assailant but still kept his hold upon Scully. "Drop your weapon, or else Jenny'll drop your head clean off your shoulders." He raised the barrel of the shotgun for his aim to kill.
Kowolski completely disregarded him and lifted the knife.
"I wasn't kidding, asshole!" Gump again yelled, but this time, he shot the Professor right in the skull.
The shot did not quite have the immobilizing effect that the Deputy had intended; it merely caused Kowolski's hologram to disappear, and he dropped Scully's hand. However, the knife still trained on her. "Drop it!" Scully shouted after finally being able to seize her automatic pistol from its hiding place on her hip.
The knife changed hands but did not fall to the ground. Without another moment to lose, both law enforcement officials fired their guns. Scully's shot hit the alien in his right temple, and Gump's (as he claimed) separated Kowolski's head directly from his shoulders. All that remained of Kowolski tumbled to the floor in a very visible puddle of sky blue goop; the sludge oozed out of the body and onto Scully's dress boots. She immediately backed away from him, put her gun away, leaned against a dresser, and inspected her feet. As she suspected, yet another pair of her expensive footwear was destroyed by an alien wound. "Guess that makes three," she sighed.
"Sorry for bein' an eavesdropper, but I guess it's kind of a good thing that I did," Gump apologized sheepishly and lowered his shotgun as he walked inside.
"I certainly agree," Scully nodded as she unzipped her boots.
"What the hell just happened? I mean, we had to fire three whole shots at his head 'fore he went down." He scratched the back of his head and peered at the blue ooze that was still seeping from the body.
"I just ruined a good pair of boots, that's what just happened," she mumbled and rifled through her duffel bag for another pair.
"I was referrin' to the weirdo over yonder that's bleedin' what looks like...paint or somethin', I dunno."
"Don't step in it--the matter has got to be pure acid if it burned a hole in my boots like this," Scully stated and held up one for him to examine while she slipped into some other shoes.
"That's fer sure. Whewee."
She distanced herself close enough to the corpse to view it but far enough away just to be on the safe side. "There's nothing here but clothes," she remarked. "Now I'm very perplexed."
"Me, too. Look, Agent Scully, since I know 'zactly where this private airstrip is and time ain't on our side, I'll just take a couple of my volunteers with me to stop this boy from goin' anywhere but straight to jail without passin' go."
"All right, Deputy, but I'd be very careful if I were you. We don't know how many more of these 'things' are disguising themselves as mere everyday citizens."
"I'll know, don't you worry. Anybody that uses them ten dollar words in their regular vocabulary should be 'nuff of a tip off. Well, I'd best be goin'. You want me to send anybody with ya over to the station?"
"It's not necessary, thank you." He handed her the decimated boot and left. Scully pulled out her cell phone from her pocket and tried to dial Mulder's number. "We're sorry, but the mobile number you are trying to reach is not available or out of service. Please try back again later," the automated, sexless voice told her.
"Shit," she swore and flipped the phone shut.