Guns And Liquor

"That's two things that don't mix," said Mulder. He sat on the running board of the jeep and watched two of the posse vehicles disappear up the road to the denser forest further up the lake.

"Yeah," said Solly. "The road runs out a couple of miles ahead. We'll all need to go on foot from there."

"I just think it might save a bit of time if the people in the camp have seen him already."

"Don't worry, Fox. You handled it well. Agreeing to split up into two teams just before they decided for you was great timing."

Mulder screwed up his face and nodded wearily. "Too much ammunition and too much alcohol. It's difficult to make that work on the road."

"You didn't say that last night," joked Solly.

"I thought we would all have sobered up by now," answered Mulder. "And I thought you and I would have most of the weaponry."

"Let's get down to the camp. Then we can get back on the trail if we need to. Those guys'll drive into the lake without us to supervise. Probably shoot each other in the foot too."

Mulder nodded. "It'll only take a half-hour. That's what annoys me."

"We'll wait up here," volunteered Solly. "We can keep an eye on those guys down there, and watch out for the others coming back."

:::

"I'm not sure this was what I had in mind," thought Mulder as he slipped and jogged carefully down the hill on his own. There were a number of entrances to the compound, large breaks in the wire fence where heavy tracks had cut open the snow. But this was no military citadel or cold-war bunker.

"No-one at home?" he whispered as he walked thru the nearest entrance. There was a small sign saying 'Private Property: Patrols', but nothing more menacing.

As he neared the first of the cabins, Mulder heard shouting and slamming of doors. He decided to keep out of sight until he was sure that there was no danger. In the center of the compound, a square defined on three sides by dozens of random cabins, there was a vehicle hanging from a frame. From the working lights Mulder could see that it was probably a sea-craft with smooth edges and deceptively flat upper and lower surfaces. "Like a giant crab," he thought, but still too small for more than one or two people to work inside it. "One or two lunatics," he thought.

:::

"You can't leave," shouted Allbright. He slammed the door of the sickbay behind him.

Stokes was carrying a kit-bag over to one of the mini-vans. She had padded herself up with a thick snow-coat and insulated clothing. She flipped her middle finger at him as she threw the bag into the vehicle and closed the passenger door.

As Stokes was opening the driver door, Allbright sprinted across the flattened ground and gripped the edge of the door. "Where are you going to go?" he snarled. "You've got enough gas for twenty miles if you're lucky."

Stokes ignored him and sat squarely in the driver seat, then pulled the door over. His hands still gripped the edge of the door. Still ignoring him, she fired up the engine, slipped the gearing into reverse and pressed the gas pedal. Instead of letting go, Allbright bounced his right foot off the ground and braced his left foot in the frame of the door. But as the car turned in a reverse circle, Stokes braced her aching head against the headrest of her seat and lashed out with her elbow. Allbright tumbled to the ground.

The car straightened and lurched into a small wooden fence by the map room cabin. Stokes hit the brake, slammed the door shut and breathed in. She could see Allbright crumpled on the snow just behind her. No-one else appeared to have reacted to the incident.

:::

Mulder sprinted over to the fallen figure and turned up the face. The man was still breathing. "Stay still. I'll get you some help," he tried to say with a reassuring voice.

He ran up to the passenger door of the car and pulled it open.

"I don't know what's going on, but that man is injured," he pointed.

Stokes frowned and gripped the steering wheel. "Who the hell are you? You can't just wander in here."

Mulder had been working on how to introduce himself all the way down the hill. "I'm a police officer. F.B.I. I'm looking for a missing person." He omitted the handshake he had originally planned.

"You might be the next person missing if you stay." She looked in the rear-view mirror again. "Are you sure you're not one of those sea monster nuts? This is the wrong place to be right now." She could not see Allbright from where she sat.

Stokes reached over and grabbed Mulder by the shoulder, wincing as she strained her neck muscles. "Let's get out of here." She bundled him down into the passenger seat.

"I'm not looking for a sea-monster," Mulder pointed out as he pulled the door shut. "I'm trying to find Vern's old man." Stokes tuned briefly, recognizing the name.

"Stay where you are!" Allbright shouted from behind them. He was on his feet, holding his lower ribs, with a pistol raised at them both. Stokes and Mulder sat still in their seats.

"Whoa," said Mulder to Stokes. "This is all getting out of hand."

"Do you have a gun?" she whispered to him.

"In my holster under my arm," he whispered back. "But don't start firing. I'll show my badge and we'll sort this all out."

Stokes reached into his coat and had the gun in her hand in seconds. "You can show your badge," she hissed. "I'm going to fire your gun."

:::

"A shoot-out!" shouted Solly to his driver, Eddie. He lowered the night-glasses. "There's something going down in the compound."

"Let's get down there," said Eddie eagerly. He flipped his pilot's goggles down over his eyes, then reached onto the back seat and retrieved his old police pistol.

"Take out anyone with a gun," instructed Solly. "Self-defense. Just make sure you don't hit Mulder. He's a cop. We're his back-up." Solly wrapped his giant scarf around his lower face.

"Makes sense, Solly," said Eddie gunning the engine. "Which one is he again?"