CHAPTER 8

St. Paul, OR
5:54 PM PST

Scully absentmindedly tucked a large section of wispy, reddish blonde hair behind her ear as she repositioned herself on the couch, curling her petite legs under herself and wrapping her whole body in a large Nordic print fleece blanket. She had left the office earlier, disheartened by the lack of information they could find on William. With a heavy sigh, she attempted to read the same page of her New York Times Best-Seller novel for the umpteenth time, unsuccessfully trying to focus herself on anything besides William.

"Scully," Mulder said, coming into the living room where she sat, "what happened?" He had sort of realized she left earlier, but was too engrossed in his research to notice she failed to return.

"Mulder," Scully's voice was soft and sad, "we won't find anything on him. Nothing that we haven't already without getting in touch with John or Monica."

"The number I have for them isn't working," he reminded gently.

"I know," Scully said with a sigh. "But we won't get anywhere if we don't find them."

Mulder closed his eyes, his head drooping down. "Then they'll know we're looking for them. If we use official channels, we risk putting them in danger."

"So what do we do, just wait for a miraculous sign?" Her voice was thick with sarcasm, which Mulder found ironic, given the tiny gold cross that dangled off her neck. Scully's eyes narrowed as she watched Mulder's face change with his thoughts. "What, Mulder?" she asked, somewhat afraid of the plan he was concocting.

"You said William spoke to you before, right?" Mulder asked. Scully nodded. "Scully … what if we try speaking back?"

"Mulder …" Scully groaned, adjusting the blanket.

"No, hear me out!" Mulder sat down next to her, tossing her book aside. "We know William can telepathically speak to you. We know that neither of us can telepathically respond. At least, we are uncertain if we can. But what if-" He took her hands, sensing she was ready to argue all the impossibilities with some sort of scientific angle. "-what if, what if we gave him some useful information to read in his thoughts. The next time he tries to reach out to you. We know he can read minds. He probably read yours when he spoke to you. So … what if we gave him a phone number?"

Scully sat on the couch, her eyebrow arched high as she stared blankly at Mulder. "Are you serious?" she asked, the same expression on her face.

"Yes," Mulder grumbled. "Look, it can't hurt to try."

Scully sighed and shook her head. "How will we know if it worked?"

"We'll get a phone call."

Her face wore the same expression of disbelief. "Mulder …"

"Just try, Scully," Mulder encouraged gently.

With a deep breath and a bit of resistance, Scully closed her eyes and began reciting their landline phone number in her mind. She got twice through when she abruptly opened her eyes, readying herself to stand. "This is ridiculous," she muttered. "Mulder-"

"Come on, Scully," Mulder said firmly, pulling her to sit. "Just try. You have to believe that it might work."

After a small glare, Scully shut her eyes once again and recited their landline phone number in her mind. She thought of the numbers slowly, carefully, fearing they were wasting precious time with this ridiculous gamble of a plan.

Near North Plate, NE
7:04 PM MST

Still feeling worn and weakened, Will glanced over at Cara, who hadn't spoken a single word to him in now over 4 hours. Twice, he requested to stop to relieve himself on the side of the road, to which Cara obliged silently. Once he was back in the car, Cara pulled back onto Route 80 West, expressionless as she silently seethed in anger, yet mostly concern, for Will.

What Will couldn't know was the battle that waged in her mind regarding the vial she knew to be in her pocket. Will had offered Cara her coat back during one of the stops, and she took it. She wasn't expecting anyone besides the authorities to be contacting her, and with no notifications that she heard or felt, there was no reason to take out her phone. She had never driven nearly as far as she had now with Will, her focus on the GPS that was the only voice in the car for countless hours.

She knew a little while back that they entered into a new time zone, accounting for that as she glanced at her car's clock. The warning light of her fuel tank had come on a while ago, and she knew that she would be a fool not to pull into the gas station just ahead at the rest stop they now approached.

As she pulled up in the station, she put the car in park, turning off the ignition. Before Will could protest, Cara exited the car, pulling her coat a little more tightly around her neck to fend off the cold gust of air that hit it.

Will winced a little as her door slammed. He attributed most of it to Cara's anger, some to the wind he saw whipping up Cara's long, dark hair as she wrestled with the gas cap. "Jesus," he muttered, knowing Cara would need help but also knowing that she most likely would kill him for giving it to her, which was what he was about to do.

"I've got it," she said firmly, her gloved fingers trying to work faster to avoid help from Will, who noticed her voice was a little groggy, given neither of them spoke in such a long time.

"Let me help you, Cara," he murmured gently, taking the gas cap off with ease.

"Get back in the car," she ordered, making eye contact with him for the first time in hours.

"I'm fine, Cara-"

"Will, I need you to stay warm, now get in the damn car!"

Defiantly, he inserted the hose into the car, feeding money into the machine. "We're almost out of cash," he said softly.

"How much do we have left?"

"Ten bucks after the gas is paid for."

"Shit."

"We'll have to use your card to get a motel."

"Then they'll know exactly where we are," Cara said in disgust.

"We don't have much of a choice," Will replied. "Besides, they're probably tracking us by your phone."

"Then why haven't we seen anyone yet?" Cara asked, bewildered at the lack of attention they were receiving.

"Just be happy we haven't," Will commented softly.

They both stared at the gas pump in silence, watching the numbers climb swiftly on the digital screen. "Will, go in the car. Please. I need you to stay warm."

Knowing he was better off not arguing any further, Will reluctantly got back into the car, a big shiver running through his body as he realized just how much colder being out there had made him. He knew the soup at his feet was most likely cold, not that he would eat it anyway. He still didn't trust that Cara wasn't someone else, or working against him somehow. Even in his current state, he knew he could easily take her - he wasn't concerned about that aspect of things. He was, however, growing concerned with how increasingly attracted to her he was, despite the threat she posed.

He had known her forever, and fell in love with her almost the instant he laid eyes on her in the academy. She was vivacious, full of life and had a take-no-prisoners attitude that made Will both admire her and fear for her well-being. He had watched her cycle through a few loser boyfriends over the years, jealous of each one. Yet he never had the courage to tell her his true feelings for her, because he had no idea if they were mutual.

Now, as he glanced at her in the rear view mirror, watching her take out the gas pump somewhat awkwardly, he wondered if she was actually the Cara he knew and loved and not someone whose face had shifted into hers to entrap him.

Stuffing his hands in his coat pockets to warm them up, Will felt a bent piece of thick paper in his right one. He withdrew it and unfolded it to reveal a photograph of his birth parents. He sighed heavily, knowing he was closer to finding them, but uncertain if he ever would after tonight's confrontation with Cara. He stared intently into his mother's eyes, realizing just how beautiful of a woman she was. He grinned a little, seeing he had his father's nose. To know his father had spent his whole life pursuing something no one else would made Will proud, yet worried about what was ahead for him.

Suddenly, his fingers clamped down on the photo, a shocking jolt of pain rushing through his head. He moaned, crouching forward in his seat, still grasping the picture. After a moment, the pain stopped, and he looked down at the photo, his mother's eyes staring back at him as he wondered if she knew what it was that was happening to him. Unexpectedly, a flash of numbers filled his head rapidly, several standing out among the rest.

As Cara climbed back into the car, her eyes grew wide when she saw Will in pain, not noticing the photograph. "Will!" she exclaimed, grabbing his arm. "Will, are you okay?"

She heard him muttering, his eyes squeezed shut. "Will? Will, what's wrong?"

"5 … 0 3 … 5 5 5 … 87 … 14 …"

"What?" Cara asked, confused.

"503 … 555 … 8714 …" Will repeated, pressing his head back against the headrest behind him. Cara scrambled to write down the digits he dictated to her, recognizing the amount and pattern to be a phone number.

Pulling out her iPhone, Cara's eyes widened when she saw the preview of a text sent from an unidentified number earlier that day:

Administer the vial to William as soon as possible. Don't wait ...

Her lips parted, her heart stopping as she let the words sink in. She quickly unlocked her phone, opening her web browser to punch in the number. "Will, it's an Oregon phone number," she said softly, amazed at what had just happened.

Will was silent as he leaned back against the headrest, still gripping the photo. Cara glanced down at his hands, seeing the image of Mulder and Scully. "It's their number, Will," she breathed. "How did you know?"

"I didn't," he replied slowly. "I just thought of my mother and it came into my head."

"Will …" Cara's pulse quickened in excitement. "Will, they must know you're coming. Somehow you can speak to your mother through telepathy!"

"Jesus, Cara," Will grumbled, "for all we know it could be the Oregon police's number."

"Come on, Will!" Cara argued. "You still are doubting all of … this …" She gestured to the whole space between them. "... is possible? You just had a phone number appear in your mind!"

"Wishful thinking," Will growled, shoving the picture back into his pocket, afraid to admit she was right in front of her, fearing she wasn't who she said she was. "We need to cover more ground."

"Unbelievable," Cara said in disgusted awe of his ignorance.

"Just drive, Cara."

Finding the same place of anger she had for him before, Cara sharply pulled out of the gas station and back onto the highway.

"Mulder," Scully was shaking her head, rubbing her eyes, "I've recited the number for fifteen minutes now in my mind. Are you happy?"

"Come on, Scully!" Mulder put his hands on his hips as he stared down at her. "You really don't think this will work, do you?"

"Right now, I just want something solid on William, not hocus pocus crap that we don't even know is real."

"You heard him, Scully," Mulder argued.

"What if it wasn't him, Mulder?" Scully yelled, standing and facing him. "What if … what if I just miss him, and all of this is a fabrication of my mind?"

"You saw him!" Mulder grabbed her shoulders. "You saw him before he was on the news!" Scully's head dropped, knowing he had a valid point. "Scully, don't quit now. What if he calls because of what you've done?"

They shared a moment of silence before being utterly startled by the shrill ring of their telephone. Scully's mouth fell open, and Mulder smiled widely. His long arm reached for the telephone beside them on the end table, and he answered it during the second ring. "Hello?" he said somewhat softly, nerves getting the best of him.

"Fox Mulder?" the man's voice asked on the other end.