In the burgeoning and promising daylight, full of enthusiasm and energy, Mulder and Scully left their motel room —rooms, plural, for the FBI's accountant eyes.
The drive was as painful and long as expected, but the green and rocky scenery was making up for the inconvenience and the worst potholes, and, in the confines of their front seats, they had water, snacks, CDs and each other's hand at reach; they also had seeds for Mulder, maps for Scully, and their stock of banter to pass the time.
One hour after leaving the last asphalt road they had felt alone on Earth, encountering no trace of civilization from there but the vague track they were driving on. Hopefully they knew where they were and where they were heading for, Scully keeping the tracks of their virtual car on the maps.
When the sun was already well engaged in its descent they had about one more hour of drive left before reaching the cult settlement, or the end of the road —you could choose, it was the same goal. They were now impatient to end the journey and hurry up to their destination, but nature called them; they had to take a break, and a leak.
Stepping out of the car, they instantly realized how much the vegetation had thickened and had metamorphosed into an unusual environment they would have associated with the tropics —for a second, Mulder even thought he would find the Arecibo Telescope behind the first curtain of trees. Even more surprising was the alteration of the air itself, an intangible change they could only feel and intuit when breathing it in through their mouth, nose and lungs, as if some alchemist had transmuted the invisible molecules of oxygen and nitrogen into some heavier gas. And, if this odd sensation had only settled in their unconsciousness, their sense of sight imposing its dominance on their cerebral cortex, both their medulla had reacted, raising up their heartbeats and sending thrills along their spinal cord.
Out of her habit and to Mulder's disapproval —no one around for miles!— Scully disappeared behind the vegetation. Mulder emptied his bladder, stretched his long limbs and paced around the car, still amazed by the scenery.
A moment passed.
And another.
Scully wasn't coming back and she only needed to pee.
"Scully!" Mulder called.
No answer.
"Scullaaayy!" he shouted more loudly. "Scullaaayy! Where are you?"
In response he only heard a loud buzz coming from his back, circling around his body, then disappearing where Scully had gone.
A simple bee, or, maybe, a heavier bumblebee.
"Scullaayy! Scullaayy! Scullaayy!" he then yelled at the top of his lungs, his voice cracked by a breath of panic, as he followed the buzzing bug into the wild green.