"IT WILL BE CRUMBLED, DRIVEN OUT; I WILL TEAR IT TO

PIECES!" This is found touching the date 2012." –Bible Codes: Genesis. The end of times.

Casa Grande, Arizona

December 23rd

Saturday

Gibson struck a match and lit the gas lantern in silence. The tiny flame flickered and jumped, causing an unearthly yellow glow to dance about the dirt walls of the shelter. The faces around the small circle were illuminated softly with hints of shadow, and for the first time since their abrupt meeting, Gibson was able to get a good luck at the two strangers. Katie was fair-skinned with long honey-blonde hair and dark brown eyes; and the young man had sun-tanned skin, dark hair and light eyes, and a thin, sporadic beard that framed his features. They were covered in scrapes and bruises from the car crash, but neither of them appeared to have suffered any serious injuries.

No one had said a word since the body was found; Gibson had simply turned and walked away from the highway, and the others followed. He was wary of his two new companions, and did not trust their mysterious "survival". They did not seem threatening, but Gibson kept one hand on his boot nevertheless. We can let them stay the night, and Olli and I can leave with some supplies by morning. When they fall asleep, we'll run. Please sleep. Katie stared unblinking into the flame, glistening tears spilling over her cheeks; and the man was desperately attempting to hold himself together, but tears were gathering in his eyes that he quickly swiped away. Gibson allowed his own eyes to flutter closed, and he turned his gaze inward so that he could listen. The man was fairly easy to read.

Mike I'm sorry, I'm sorry…we shouldn't have been driving…what do we do now? Four is better than two. Maybe we'll be safer with four. But Katie—she'll be all right. Trust them. I don't know if we can trust them. But they helped—I don't know. Should I tell them? Fuck it, that's insane. I can't tell them.

He turned his focus to Katie, hoping she would give away some answer, but it was as if her thoughts were enclosed by an impenetrable wall. Gibson had never encountered a resistance so strong; she was completely blank—no thoughts—nothing. After a few moments, he gave up, opened his eyes, and leaned back against the wall. Olli sat beside him with his legs tucked in to his chest and his chin resting on his knees. His eyes were fixed on the worn-out Birkenstock sandals on his feet, and he traced little circles in the dirt floor with his pointer finger. Olli and Gibson flinched in surprise when the man loudly cleared his throat, fracturing the stillness. His voice was unsteady and cracked slightly when he began to speak.

"Uh, I guess we didn't get the chance to introduce ourselves. I'm Rowan and this is Katie. We, well, I suppose we were, seniors at Berkeley….and, uh, we were planning on getting married after graduation, and…we shared an apartment with Mike."

Olli and Gibson shifted their attention to Katie, expecting her to add something, but she didn't move her eyes from their intent gaze on the lantern.

"Is she cold? I think she might be in shock," Gibson said, studying her frozen expression.

"She'll be all right. This happens to her sometimes, when she gets really upset. It's been a helluva day. She just needs some time," Rowan answered. "So, um, we didn't catch your names."

When Gibson didn't respond, Olli tentatively spoke up.

"My name is Olathewe—call me Olli, and this is Gibson. We've worked on a ranch together for the past three years in Sasabe."

"So, if I can ask, did you just find this shelter, or is it yours? I mean, it's a long way from Sasabe."

"We found this place, but the supplies are ours. We were going on a cross-country trip when we heard about the bombings on the east coast, so we figured it would be a good idea to lay low for awhile, you know, see what's going on. We left the truck in town and hiked here and then literally stumbled on this shelter," Gibson said quickly. He hoped he sounded more convincing than he felt.

"Oh, I thought for a minute that maybe you knew—nevermind."

"Knew what?" Gibson asked carefully.

Rowan sighed and crinkled his brow, as if mulling over which version of his story would work best.

"Um, okay…This is gonna sound weird, and it's really personal…I know we don't know each other, but I think it's important for us to stick together now, help each other out. So, all right, here it is—I know what's going on. The earthquake, the temperature change, the flash of light, the darkness…I'm not sure about the bombings, but they have to be related."

Gibson and Olli froze and waited impatiently for him to continue. After a pause for a few seconds, Rowan spoke again.

"Katie and I, we met when we were in high school in a support group for, for um…alien abductees. I know this sounds insane, but I swear to God, I've been…taken three times. It started when I was eleven on a fucking Boy Scout camping trip. They did tests on me—I have scars…and I remember, I remember being chained to this rock-like thing and they used needles and surgical tools to experiment on me or whatever. And Katie—she's been taken seven times; the first time she was only four. Her family kept moving, but They always found her…So, um, so we met and we had this connection. It was like we'd known each other for years. Nobody else understood what we were going through. No one else believed, sometimes not even our families. Well, anyway, we went to college together; she was an art major and I was studying psychology. Two years ago, we moved in with Mike and this other guy. Mike was cool—we became really close with him after awhile. So close, that we told him our secret. He totally didn't believe us of course, until Katie started having these premonitions a couple weeks ago. She said the world was going to end, and she told us how. She said They showed her—in her dreams. Then when shit started going down and it was exactly like she said it would be, we got in the car and just drove south. We were planning on hiding in Mexico."

"So, you're saying the earth has been invaded by intelligent extraterrestrials, who want to, what, colonize?" Gibson asked.

"Look, I know how it sounds! But something to that effect, yes."

"Well, if that's the truth, then where are these aliens? Olli and I haven't seen any."

"I don't know where they are, but they're here. I know that much."

The group sat in silence for several moments before Gibson murmured,

"Then I guess that's why the two of you survived. They've chosen you…just like they've chosen me."

Gibson sucked in his breath, not having intended to express his realization aloud. He sighed, wondering how to begin.

--

Olli blinked open his bleary eyes and squinted in the darkness. He couldn't remember falling asleep. The chaos of the past few days had sent him on an adrenaline rush, and he hadn't realized how exhausted his body had become. Apparently, the others were equally worn out; a chorus of soft rhythmic breathing and a light snore filled the tiny shelter. Olli slowly sat up, rubbed his sore neck and shoulders, stretched, and yawned. His last memory before collapsing into the deep, dreamless sleep was hearing Gibson explain his knowledge of the colonization plan to Rowan. All he'd admitted to was experiencing premonitions of the invasion, as Katie had. Probably a good idea. We still may not be able to trust them. I can't believe he told that much…but if he can read them…

Overhead, the trapdoor creaked, and there was a faint shuffling back and forth like footsteps pacing. Olli jumped and grabbed the small handgun that Gibson had forced him to keep. The weapon felt awkward in his hand; he hadn't wanted to admit that he had absolutely no idea how to use the thing. Truthfully, he'd only fired a gun three times in his life—and that was a shotgun—during deer hunts with his father and older brother. He never made the kill shot, but the image of the helpless animal stumbling forward, its legs sinking under its body and crimson blood flowing, haunted his dreams for days after. As a boy, he wept for the poor, defenseless creatures. Now, after what he'd learned from Gibson, he felt like one of the hunted dodging an unfathomable predator, and he wondered if he'd have the strength to pull the trigger.

Olli slowly rose to his feet, his knees cracking on the way up, and he aimed the gun at the ceiling as he pulled down the ladder and climbed up as noiselessly possible. He silently counted to three before banging his fist into the latch, causing the small door to fly up and out; and he pointed the gun at the shadowed figure standing nearby and attempted to appear menacing despite the frantic beating of his heart. The figure gasped and slowly moved his arms out in a gesture of surrender.

"Who's there? I'm armed!" Olli whispered harshly in the cruelest tone he could muster.

"Just me. Katie," she said softly.

Olli released his breath in relief and shoved the weapon into his belt loop. Immediately, he felt his cheeks grow hot from embarrassment, and for once, he was grateful for the darkness.

"You shouldn't be out here. It's dangerous," he muttered as he dug his hands into his pockets.

"I can look out for myself just fine…I needed a smoke," she said.

Suddenly, a tiny flame struck, and Olli saw her large chocolate brown eyes sparkling as she placed a cigarette between her lips and lit the tip. He shyly averted his eyes from her glare and nervously kicked a rock that was embedded in the ground.

"I only have three left. Do you want one?" she offered.

"No. No, thanks. I don't smoke. But, I mean, I don't mind if you do. I guess I'll just stay out here for a few minutes—if you don't mind. It's nice to have space to move around. But, if we hear anything, we need to get back underground quick."

"I don't need you to protect me."

"I know—I wasn't implying that you did."

After a few moments of awkward silence, Olli finally thought of something legitimate to say.

"Are you okay? Earlier, you seemed really out there."

"Out there?"

"You know, you just seemed completely frozen, and…your mind was somewhere else."

"My mind was somewhere else. But, to answer your question, of course I'm not okay. No one is okay… I've moved on from my grief, though. That's something we'll have to do quickly in this new world if we're to continue. Many more will die. All of us maybe."

"Rowan said something about you having premonitions…in dreams," Olli said, surprised at his new boldness that came from his curiosity over this enigmatic woman.

"I've seen things," she said simply as she took a long drag. "I know he told you everything—most everything. About the abductions…I told him not to, but he never listens to me."

"What have you seen?"

"…No, no not now. I don't want to talk about it now."

"Okay, sorry, I didn't mean to…so, um, you're from California?"

"No, I'm from New York. I've lived in California since I was sixteen…What about you? Where are you from?"

"Arizona. I spent a lot of time on a Navajo reservation as a kid. I didn't live there, but some of my relatives did."

"So both of your parents are Navajo?"

"Were, and no, my family's heritage is mixed—Apache and Navajo mostly."

"Were?"

"My parents are dead."

"Oh…I'm sorry. Did they die in the invasion?"

"No, my mother died along with my little brother when he was born, and my father had cancer. I've been on my own for a long time."

Olli shifted his weight from the balls of his feet to his heels, and focused his attention on studying the sky, searching for any signs of starlight amid the murky cloud wrack. The two shared a silence that lasted several minutes, and surprisingly, it became increasingly more comfortable. He sensed an odd warmth of familiarity spreading through his chest, as if he had spent many nights such as this gazing up at an infinite sphere of heavens with this person beside him. When he spoke again, his words were not simply an obligation to fill the quiet.

"Rowan said that you're engaged to be married."

"Rowan says a lot of things. He and I are connected through shared pained. Our relationship isn't about love as much as it is about a need for sanity and understanding…and fate, I suppose. He used to talk about us getting married someday, but it never really went beyond talk. I think he wants me to be something I'm not. I don't believe in marriage."

"You don't love him?" Shit, did I really just ask that?

"Like I said, we have a bond. Maybe that's love. I don't know. I've never been much for romance."

She sighed, took one last drag from her cigarette, and flicked it to the ground. "Now I have a question for you. Your friend—Gibson—he's special isn't he?"

"Special? Well, he's had premonitions—"

"No, it's more than that. I have a sense about him. He can hear people's thoughts, can't he? Earlier he tried to read my mind, but he couldn't, so he doesn't know if he can trust me."

"I—"

"That's why They want him. Because of what he hears. And They want me because of what I see."

--

Weyburn, Saskatchewan

8 days after

"I don't even see the point in getting gas. We don't know where we're going; we've just been driving aimlessly," Dana said in exasperation as Mulder pulled into the lone, abandoned Amico station.

"Well, we know we need food; we can't just starve to death in the mountains."

"I don't think it's a good idea to travel away from the magnetite deposits. That's the only reason we're still alive."

"All right, so we'll go back to the magnetite-filled mountains with no supplies and see how long we can last. I mean, at least we can say They never got to us," Mulder replied curtly. He regretted the words as soon as he'd spoken them; Dana obviously wasn't at fault for their predicament, but he needed a vent post for his own helplessness. Sarcasm and bitterness as defense mechanisms were among his many faults, and only in times of great stress did they resurface. Mulder turned to look at Dana and opened his mouth in an expression of apology, but she cut him off before he was able.

"I know. It's okay."

"I have to go to the bathroom," Abigail whined. Sitting still for hours in a car was not among her strengths.

"We're taking a rest break here, baby blue. You can go to the bathroom in just a few minutes," Mulder said, attempting a reassuring smile in the rearview mirror.

He parked the car beside a gas pump, but after a closer look, discovered that all four pumps had been smashed, leaving not a drop of gasoline behind.

"So there goes that plan," he muttered under his breath.

"Maybe there's at least some food or something inside," Dana said hopefully.

Abigail's ears perked up at the prospect of lunch. "I'm hungry," she declared.

"I know baby, I know," Dana sighed.

"Abby, Mommy and I are going to have a look around really quickly. You're just going to sit tight in the car for a few minutes. I'm locking the doors, and you're not to open them for anything, understand?"

"No! No! You promised you wouldn't leave me anywhere. Please take me with you!" Her voice cracked in her desperate plea, and her bottom lip began to tremble.

"Honey, we'll be right back. We're not going far. Just stay here for a little while, and then you can come out too," Dana tried.

Evidently finding no further points to argue, Abby huffed in protest, crinkled her forehead into a frown, crossed her arms, and slouched low in her seat. Mulder and Dana took her response as their ticket to move.

"Be right back, blue," Mulder called as he and Dana slammed their doors shut.

As they turned the corner to investigate the opposite side of the building, they both drew their 9mm's and cautiously felt their way along the cool brick wall. The sun had not shone in over a week, and while their eyes were slowly adjusting to the new, darkened world, it was nevertheless exceedingly difficult to move about.

"Any bodies?" Dana whispered from behind him.

Mulder grimaced at the memory of the mutilated corpses they had found along the road. Thank God he and Dana had managed to keep Abby from seeing them. But how long can we really shelter her? Mulder guessed the bodies had been sucked into the light and then hurled back to the earth; Their unique method of genocide, no doubt. What if we're the only ones left? Unless there are others in the mountains…

"Nothing out here. Let's go inside," Mulder said softly.

They inched their way to the front of the small building, and Mulder couldn't help but smile as he was tempted to mutter, "Just like old times." The lock had been broken, and the glass on the door was smashed. The bell sounded shrilly in the silence when he kicked the door open. Not surprisingly, the inside of the little convenience store had been completely ransacked. Plastic shelves had been turned over and the glass doors in the refrigerated section were shattered. Shreds of cellophane wrappers littering the tile floor were the only evidence that there had once been food in the place.

Dana walked around the side of the store, while Mulder headed for the back. As he kicked the debris about, searching for anything that might be salvaged, he suddenly felt a sharp chill travel the length of his spine as if someone were breathing coolly down his neck. He whirled around, gun drawn, and called out, "Scully!" in a harsh whisper, unsure of exactly what he was warning her of. Her shadow turned swiftly in the darkness toward his voice; and when she moved, Mulder heard her cry out abruptly in surprise.

In less than half a second, he rushed across the store, and then skittered to a halt at the sight before him. A large figure loomed behind Dana, and an assault rifle was pressed into the back of her neck.

"You get any closer, motherfucker, and she's dead. I know what I'm doing. Now, how about you explain," a gravely voice said evenly.