Chapter 2
As they hurried back to the basement, Mulder kept silent while Scully took the file and began scanning the information in it. He knew he'd only upset her if he expressed any concern about her being on this case. He didn't want to fight. Not now. Especially not now. But that wouldn't stop him from worrying and he vowed to himself that he'd keep an extra close eye on her. Involvement with MUFON members had been an on going nightmare. The members that had died of cancer, Scully's attachment to them, and he'd never forget the terror that went through him when he had thought she'd been one of the burned corpses on Skyland Mountain last year. He understood exactly where Skinner was coming from. He only wished Scully did as well.
In the privacy of their office, Mulder finally spoke, "I'll be over in an hour, if that's okay."
Scully nodded as she picked up her briefcase. "Here's the file," she said, "and I suggest that you pack your long johns," she joked.
Mulder took the folder but didn't return her smile. He couldn't even look at her.
Scully sighed, finally picking up on her partner's mood. (Mulder had definitely backed down too easily,) she thought. Placing her briefcase on the desk, she planted herself in front of him. "Mulder, come on. I'll be fine. I can handle this, OK?"
Mutely he stared down at her. He swallowed with difficulty as her luminous blue eyes cast their spell over him, imploring him. Scully took his hands in hers: they were cold. Suddenly she understood. Or thought she did.
"It's you," she said slowly, "you're worried that you-" she broke off.
Not trusting his voice, he simply shook his head. How could he tell her that he would always remember how she had looked that day they found her in the woods, having somehow survived the firestorm? The burns on her face and hands, the horror in her eyes that comes with memory loss, and her bone-chilling regression hypnosis session. He shuddered. Scully reached up to grip his shoulders.
"Come on, Mulder, please," she pleaded, shaking him gently, "please snap out of it - you're starting to scare me."
Mulder looked down at Scully's upturned face, her blue eyes wide. "Sorry, Scully," he said; his voice low. "It's just that Skinner's right. I don't have anything good associated with MUFON."
Scully sighed again, in understanding, her arms dropping to her side, head bowed. "Me either." She took a deep breath. "But we have a job to do."
"I know," Mulder replied, "but that won't stop me from worrying."
Scully smiled faintly, her eyes catching his. She reached over and took his hands again, trying to warm them. "I'll be worrying right along with you, G-man. Deal?"
Mulder shook his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth at her use of their pet name, and he gave her hands a squeeze in return. "Deal, G-woman. Long johns, huh?"
Breathing a small sigh of relief, Scully retrieved her briefcase, releasing his hands, "Don't be late," she warned him. "Military planes pride themselves on sticking to their schedules." And with those words, she hurried out.
Mulder watched her go; his heart in his throat. He had a really bad feeling about this case. And the fact that Scully hadn't been upset by his determination to worry about her bothered him. Usually she just reminded him that she would be fine. Fine. He really, really hated that word.
Despite Scully's warning, they arrived at the airfield with only minutes to spare. They quickly stowed their luggage and were escorted to their seats by a burly airman. The young man made no attempt to hide his displeasure at being kept waiting. Mulder made a crack about in-flight movies and was promptly elbowed in the ribs by Scully.
There was no further opportunity for conversation as the plane taxied to the runway and Mulder and Scully scrambled to get their seatbelts fastened. During the flight, they acquainted themselves with their team members, reviewed assignments, and gave a briefing on MUFON. After landing in Las Vegas, they were immediately transferred to the site by helicopter. They landed a safe distance away so as not to disturb the crime scene. Army Corps of Engineers was hard at work, setting up living quarters, mess tent, morgue-lab, and command-communications center. They could see Krieg lights encircling what they presumed to be the mass gravesite, 40 yards away.
Major Thompson, who was in charge of the army men, met the FBI team. After introductions were made, he addressed Mulder, "I've got maps of the camp for everyone and I took the liberty of making tent assignments based on the list
provided by A.D. Skinner. If there's anything else you need, let me know."
"Thank you, Major," Mulder replied, "We'll stash our gear and get started." After the major left, Mulder instructed everyone to get unpacked and meet at the gravesite in 30 minutes. He quickly distributed the maps and confirmed that everyone knew what they were responsible for.
Scully was silent. She knew that they were all seasoned agents but how did you really prepare for mass murder?
She hung back as everyone else drifted off to find his tent. Mulder quickly scanned the layout of the camp, committing it instantly to memory. When he saw the tent assignments, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. As the only female on the team, Scully had been assigned to a smaller tent - alone. Mulder would be next door with Agents Jamison and Hartley.
"Hey Scully - need a roommate?" he asked with a leer.
Scully smiled wryly, easily seeing through Mulder's wisecrack. He was worried about her. (So what else is new?)
"No, I do not need a roommate," teasing him with a haughty voice to hide her own discomfiture, "You go to your own tent. I'll meet you out there in a few minutes." She couldn't repress a slight shudder at what awaited them. Mulder, of course, saw it. (Oh, well,) she thought dismally, (Maybe he should be worried about me. I know I'll definitely be worrying about him.)
"Sure, Scully," he said evenly, watching her closely, "I'll be right there."
Thirty minutes later they were assembled around the gravesite. The first order of business had been to completely photograph the area from every possible angle. After the tarp was pulled away, everyone had to work through their shock and horror at the sight of bodies piled atop each other. The grisly sight and smell caused several people to vomit. Mulder definitely looked ill and Scully had to swallow back the bile that rose in her throat, turning her head away. Someone picked up a pamphlet with gloved hands and handed it to Mulder. He glanced at it briefly, not needing to read it. It was a MUFON pamphlet. He'd seen plenty of them in the past.
The bodies had been piled facedown and to everyone's added outrage, they discovered that the bodies were desecrated. Based on the number that they could see, they all appeared to be butchered in an identical manner. The skin and tissue had been stripped away at the back of the neck. Staring at the massacre before her, Scully had subconsciously reached back to touch the site of her implant at the back of her own neck. Mulder, too, thought of his partner. Noticing her hand at her neck gave him goose bumps. (Oh, God, it could have been her, too.)
"Scully," he whispered in her ear, causing her to jump slightly, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
Scully remained silent, unable to speak. There really was no point in responding.
Mulder continued, "It looks like someone just reached out and ripped the implant out."
That statement snapped Scully out of the horror that had enveloped her brain like a fog. "We don't know that these people had implants," she whispered fiercely, turning to confront her partner. Her cheeks were flushed in anger. Or fear, Mulder reasoned, his face calm amid Scully's storm.
"Well someone apparently thought that they did," he said evenly.
He took no satisfaction at the look on her face. His statement had obviously sucker-punched her. She closed her mouth with a snap and her once flushed cheeks paled.
(Oh no,) she thought helplessly, (He's right. Whether or not these people had implants wasn't the issue. What if someone thought that they did?)
Mulder watched her face, regretting his words. It was pretty obvious what was going through her mind. Being right wasn't worth it. (Is this how you take care of your partner?) He chided himself. This case had just started and already he was flooded with guilt. (Great. . . I've probably broken my own world record.)
"Come on, Scully. I'm sorry," he said softly, reaching for her arm. "Let's go. We'll start the autopsies in the morning."
Scully allowed herself to be led away, her mind reeling as she struggled to take it all in. (How could someone do this?) she thought helplessly.
Mulder kept an eye on her, hesitant to leave her alone at her tent. Scully realized this and attempted to reassure him.
"Just let me catch my breath. This is a shock, but I'll be ready to go. Okay?" She tried to put strength in her voice. (Boy, aren't we off to a wonderful start?)
"Yeah - okay," Mulder said. "The sooner we do this, the sooner we get out of here. I'll be right next door if you need anything."
Scully smiled, forgiving him for his earlier remarks. "The same goes for you."
Impulsively Mulder gave her a brief, fierce hug before rushing to his tent. He was grateful that she wasn't mad at him. He didn't look back. Scully watched him go. She hoped to get through this case with her sanity intact. And Mulder's, too.
