(Good Vibrations -- Chapter Six)

Bad Vibes?

10:13 A.M.

THE FIELD NEXT TO WHERE "SHANGRI-LA #2" USED TO BE

YELLOW BARN, PENNSYLVANIA

She's right -- they're all nuts. Mulder squashed this uncharitable thought as he moved along to question the next passerby.

Upon waking up an hour or so earlier, the federal agents had had a slight disagreement regarding why they should or should not stay in Yellow Barn. Now that he had had more time to think about it, Mulder found himself intrigued by the possibility of collecting information on the shared psychic phenomena he believed that the spontaneously gathered New Agers had experienced. It was fairly clear that the people had all felt something--otherwise, there was no reason for about a hundred unrelated people to all spontaneously migrate to the same sparsely populated town, a town that probably didn't even make it onto most state maps. However, Scully seemed inclined to believe that the mass congregation of New Agers was due less to cosmic "tuning-in" than it was to . . . well, something else. How was she supposed to know what? All they were really there to do, she reminded Mulder, was find Lowell. And get out again, preferably with the stray agent in tow.

And so -- despite the slight hostility of the people in the field towards the FBI -- Mulder and Scully were doing one last sweep to find out whether or not Agent Joseph Lowell had passed through this part of Yellow Barn. So far, Lowell was a no-show. And, oddly enough, most of the motel evacuees were still clinging to the belief that the "good vibrations" that had attracted them all to Yellow Barn not only meant them no harm, but were entirely unrelated to the unquestionably bad vibrations that had caused their motel to disappear into the ground not twelve hours before.

"So, sir, have you seen this man as of late?" Mulder held up a picture of Lowell for an ancient overalls-clad man to see.

Puffing gently on a pipe, the geezer shook his head. "No, I thinks not . . . ah . . . maybe I does."

Mulder blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I mighta done seen him," conceded the old man, gumming his pipe stem and sticking his hands into his pockets. "Looks real familiar."

The FBI agent looked at the picture. Unfortunately, he reflected, Lowell had one of those generic "man-in-a-crowd" faces that most people thought they could recognize. If anything, he resembled the generic composite picture that computerized criminal identification lineups started with. This made Lowell excellent for Bureau-related activities such as surveillance and undercover operations, but . . . working from the other end, it was definitely a different story. One or two people he'd questioned so far thought they might have seen Lowell on "America's Most Wanted," which Mulder sincerely hoped was not the truth.

He glanced around. Scully (decked out in cheap shorts and a tank top from the 24-hour convenience store) was discussing something with an unhappy-looking Billy Ackroyd, but didn't seem to need assistance. Mulder leaned closer to the old man in overalls. "Can you tell me more about why you're here?" he asked in hushed tones.

The old man's eyes brightened up, and his face split into a grin around the smoldering pipe. "Sure can. I was just gettin' off from work last Monday, tellin' my secretary to make sure she clean up that mess in the boardroom-"

"Wait a minute -- what's your occupation, Mr. . . .?"

"Gilroy. Mr. H.T. Gilroy. I'se an investment banker. Why?"

"Uh, no reason. Sorry."

"Well, anyhow, I was tellin' it to my secretary when all of a sudden, I feels it! Right here!" Mr. H.T. Gilroy stabbed a gnarled finger towards the middle of his forehead. "And all'a sudden-like I knows that there's a place I gots to be and it ain't Miami."

"Miami."

"So I gets my lim-ou-sine and tells that driver of mine to head out 'til I tells him to not head out no more. And I feels that I'se in the right place when we gets to here." Mr. H.T. Gilroy stamped a crusted-over boot on the ground for emphasis. "Yaller Barn, Pennsylvania. And we stops at the first motel we finds -- which is, incident'ly, the very source of them good vibes I'se feeling. My driver, he cleared out after a few days. Said he's goin' to hitchhike to Tallahassee, where he got kin and won't have to deal with me no more." The old man shrugged. "All the same to me. I knows how to drive myself, all right."

Mulder twisted his lips to the side, attempting to absorb all this information. "So . . . you felt something in your head . . . were you in distress at any time, or -- ?"

"No, it's like the feeling you gets when you realize you'se halfway to work and you done left the kettle on. Like you forgot you gotta be someplace and now you gotta get there as soon as you can." Gilroy nodded wisely. "And when I sleeps, I sees the Lines of Energy convergin' up ahead. Now that I'se here, the Lines, they all is One."

"That's . . . nice. Were you into this kind of thing before, or-"

"No, I was strictly Zoroastrian before now. Now . . . I guess . . . I just gotta find my own truth. It's gotta be out there somewheres." He shrugged, looking lost.

Mulder looked at Gilroy oddly. "I think I know what you mean."

"Anythin' else?"

"No, thanks. Thanks very much." Mulder took his leave of Mr. H.T. Gilroy, heading over to Scully.

"No, they were definitely military," Billy Ackroyd was claiming. "I saw them, too."

Scully threw Mulder a frustrated glance. "Mr. Ackroyd believes that the military has been engaging in covert operations around his property," she informed him. "And he hasn't seen Lowell," she added belatedly.

Mulder raised his eyebrows. "Military?"

Ackroyd nodded. "That accountant man saw 'em the other day, but I saw them last night on our way back here."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

Ackroyd raised his chin. "I had already figured out that you people didn't want to hear what I had to say."

Scully's teeth were on edge. For some reason, this man really pisses me off. I should really try to be more tolerant -- his livelihood just disappeared off the face of the earth, after all. "And they were just . . . standing there?"

He nodded. "Watching us. It didn't really sink in until later. Charlotte -- my granddaughter--said she saw them a while ago, but this was the first time I saw them myself."

"What were they doing then?"

"I don't know. You'll have to ask her." Ackroyd shrugged irritably, just as his granddaughter materialized at his elbow.

"Did I hear my name?" she asked.

"Miss Ackroyd, is it true that you saw military personnel around your grandfather's motel?" asked Scully, managing to pull off an air of professionalism while wearing 15ยข flip-flops. Mulder began mentally flipping through reports of military activities, trying to figure out where the nearest military base was.

The girl blushed a little, glancing at Mulder. He's so . . . intense. "Um, yes. Last summer. In the woods."

"How did you know they were military?"

"I asked them," Charlotte said simply. "Well . . . I was just taking a walk, that is, and I ran into some people in uniforms. I was sort of surprised, to say the least . . . um, they asked me who I was and I told them. And I asked who they were, and they said, uh, they said that that was classified military information."

Mulder snorted, and even Scully looked faintly amused.

Charlotte's cheeks flushed again, and she continued her story in a rush. "So I said they were welcome to stop by the motel if they wanted, but the one in front said no. So I went away again. When I looked back -- well, they were still watching me, but . . . it's weird, but I thought that there might be one or two missing."

"Missing?" asked Scully in spite of herself.

"I thought that there were fewer of them there than before," Charlotte explained. "It was probably just a trick of the light or something, but it kind of stuck with me."

Mulder had that gleam in his eyes that Scully internally categorized as Slightly Dangerous. "Do you remember where you found them?"

AUTHOR'S ENDNOTES

There are three chapters to go after this, one of which has a chase scene. Just so you know you should definitely keep reading. :)

Actually, though, I'm really just grateful and thankful that you even got this far. It means a lot to me. Drop me a line if you wish.