by Tim Lebbon
“Where was the last report of it?” asked Mulder. “Do you know?”
“Right here,” said Ryker. “I got a call just before we turned on the street, said it was running around out here.”
They walked down the street. Mulder glanced back at the car, parked in the middle of the road.
Scully lifted her head. Mulder glanced at her, then tilted his own head. The sheriff closed his eyes, just for a moment. The sound’s rise had been so smooth none of them had registered it.
Ryker looked up and down the street. “What is that?”
“It sounds like... tap shoes,” said Mulder.
Scully’s head went side to side. “No,” she said. “It sounds like nails.”
“Nails?” Mulder had his hand on his Sig Sauer.
“Toenails,” she said. She drew her weapon. “Like a dog on a floor.”
The clicking noise echoed between the buildings and the parked cars. Mulder saw a glimpse of something through a car window. “There!” He pointed with his pistol. The shape flickered between the car and the pickup behind it and then he lost track of it.
“Where’d it go?” Ryker had his pistol out, a huge .45 six-shooter. The barrel swept back and forth across the street.
The clicking nails echoed across the concrete road. The sound shifted. Scully turned and the tip of a tail vanished behind a primer-colored Volkswagen van across the street.
Mulder glanced at Scully. “What was it?”
“I’m not sure.”
Ryker spun. “There,” he said. He lined up his pistol.
“Wait,” said Mulder. “We should see if it’s—”
The .45 roared and a chunk of brick turned to red dust. Something cried out and the sound of retreating tap shoes filled the air. A stop sign clanged and shook at the end of the street and a low shadow raced away. Ryker fired another shot after it.
“Sheriff, please,” said Mulder. “That could be a living example of extraterrestrial life. It could—”
Ryker slammed his pistol back into its holster. “S’just a mangy old wolf,” he said. “D’you see that tail? Picked clean down to the skin.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do know that, Agent Mulder. And now that we know it, I don’t think you need to be here anymore, do you?”
The two men stared at each other for a moment.
“Come on, Mulder,” said Scully. “He’s got jurisdiction and he’s probably right.”
He turned to her. “Scully, you saw it. Did it look like a wolf to you?”
“It looked,” she said, “like a tail with no hair.”
“I’ll round up a couple boys tomorrow, hunt it down, put it out of its misery. I can get some pictures for you if you like?”
Mulder took in a breath. His body tensed. Scully set a hand on his arm. “Let it go,” she said. “If we leave now, we could be at the airport by three. Maybe there’s an earlier flight back to DC.”
He stared at Ryker for a few more moments, then turned and marched back to their car.
****
OLD COUNTY ROAD
12:47 a.m.
Mulder bit his tongue for almost fifteen minutes after they left the motel. “Such a waste,” he said. “An actual, living creature from another planet and it’s going to get blown apart by a bunch of hillbilly hunters.”
A large, pale tree loomed in the headlights and vanished into the dark behind them. Scully turned her head to watch it. “I think it was all a hoax,” she said.
He took his eyes off the road and gaped at her. “What?”
She nodded. “Think about it, Mulder. It was all a ploy to drum up new interest in their town. It’s all too convenient.”
He looked back at the strip of concrete in the headlights. “Kind of inconvenient if you ask me.”
“You said yourself the town’s been dropping off people’s radar. Then we show up just as the fight between Cope and Marsh reaches a boiling point.”
“It was because of us,” said Mulder.
“Yes,” she said, “that’s my point. The sabotaged freezer. The phone call. The ‘beast’ getting loose. It finding us the moment we get back to town. And at no point do we get a good look at it. It’s a perfect con.”
Mulder shook his head. “How could they know we’d spend the night?”
“They didn’t. They saw a chance and they took it. They might’ve had this planned for ages and they’ve just been waiting for the right patsies to show up.”
“Patsies?”
“Can you think of a better word? Marks? Rubes?”
He smiled. “Maybe.” They drove on in silence for a few moments. The turnoff that led down to Marsh’s home approached, slid alongside them, and disappeared. “You mind if I ask you a personal question, Scully?”
“Depends.”
“Did you take a shower back at the hotel?”
“What?”
“At the hotel. Did you take a shower? When was the last time you washed your hands?”
“I’m not sure. I think at the diner. Why?”
“I was thinking about why there are two kinds of aliens here. And then I thought about Roswell.”
“The town?”
“The dog. Back at Hiram Marsh’s house.” He adjusted his hands on the steering wheel. “Did you know the modern dog is completely man-made?”
“Ten thousand years of selective breeding,” she said.
Mulder nodded. “All to create a creature that fills so many roles for us. It’s a companion, a protector, a hunter, a fellow warrior. They love us unconditionally and we love them back. Anywhere on this planet that you can find humans, you’ll find some kind of dog. We take them with us everywhere. And someday we’re going to take them with us out there.” He looked up through the windshield. It was a clear night and the stars were clear in the sky. “And maybe they did, too.”
She smiled. “You think the Beast of Little Hill is some kind of guard dog?”
“Maybe not even that. Maybe it’s just a pet.”
“A pet?”
“It explains why there’d be two different life forms at the crash site.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “What if the Beast didn’t just happen to find us in town, Scully? What if it came looking for us? Looking for you?”
“Me?”
“You touched the other alien,” he said. “Its scent is on you. On your skin or the cuff of your jacket. Maybe some kind of powerful pheromones that set off a specific reaction. You’re the only thing that smells familiar to the Beast.”
She looked at her hands. “What are you saying?”
“I think we need to go back. We get Ryker to call off the hunting parties, maybe get Frohike and the others down here, and then we can...”
His voice trailed off as he saw the movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head and saw the shadow charging out of the woods. It filled the driver’s side window with teeth and eyes and claws.
The impact shattered the window and spun the car. Glass filled the air. Scully cried out, and Mulder realized he had, too. Then his training kicked in and he twisted the wheel hard, turning into the skid. The whirling forest steadied, the tires grabbed at the concrete, and the car lurched off the road into a ditch. He heard several thumps and the hiss of shifting dirt and a crack. His arms went up in time to cushion his head as it bounced against the steering wheel. “Scully?!”
“Mulder, are you okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, no broken bones. You?”
“Shaken up a bit, but I’m okay,” said Scully. “What was that? Did we hit a deer?”
Mulder glanced over his shoulder. “I think it was just a mangy old wolf.” He fought with his seatbelt until it popped loose.
“Is it still out there?”
“I hope not, but I’m guessing yes.” He wiggled his body in the seat until he could pull his pistol free. “Sure you’re okay?”
She nodded and drew her own weapon.
They pushed the doors open and climbe
d out of the car. A driftwood-dry log sat under the front passenger tire, cracked in three places. One of the headlights had exploded and spread powdery glass over the leaves and moss. The tail lights gave everything a red glow. The descent into the ditch had been gentle, but there was no way the car was getting back on the road without a tow truck.
Their weapons led them back up onto the road. The moon cast a few shafts of light through the trees. The road was an expanse of charcoal broken by puddles of shining silver.
They kept their shoulders close. Mulder stumbled once at the edge of the ditch. Scully froze and waited for him to get back to his feet.
On the far side of the road, something rumbled. It was a wet, throaty sound, the sound of something drowning in blood. It echoed across the empty concrete strip.
“Do you have your flashlight?” murmured Mulder.
“It’s in my bag,” said Scully. “You?”
“I think it’s back in the car by the brake pedal.” He risked closing his eyes for a few seconds and tried to adjust them to the moonlight.
Something like tap shoes clicked on the concrete. They spun and faced up the road. The sound stopped.
“I can’t see anything,” she said.
A shape moved in the darkness. It was smaller than a deer, larger than a dog. Mulder tried to count its legs but couldn’t make out enough details. It skirted the puddles of moonlight, little more than a shadow.
Scully aimed her weapon.
“Hang on,” he murmured.
“Why?”
“It could be an alien life form, Scully.”
“Or it could be a dangerous animal.”
“Can we risk that?”
It circled around to the far side of the road. Mulder and Scully took a few steps back, leaving the open road behind them. It moved them away from the car.
The thing at the other end of the road took a few steps forward. The click-clack of claws rang out on the road. A few damp breaths heaved in the shadows.
“I have an idea,” said Mulder.
“I’d love to hear it.”
Mulder fired at the ground. The rounds banged off the concrete road as the reports crashed back and forth between the trees. In the muzzle flashes, Scully saw something lean and hairless turn and race back into the forest. The clatter of talons retreated into the darkness.
“Run!” He grabbed her arm and dragged her in the other direction.
“That’s your plan?” Scully threw her legs forward. “Run?”
“Come on.”
They ran down the road into the dark.
“Where are we going?”
“Marsh’s place,” Mulder said between strides. “He’s still got the other alien. The one the Beast wants.”
****
MARSH RESIDENCE
1:09 a.m.
The mailbox appeared out of the dark. They stopped running for a moment. “I don’t hear the tapping noise,” gasped Mulder.
“I don’t hear anything,” said Scully. “No crickets, no tree frogs, nothing.”
They looked around them, took a few more breaths, and headed up the long driveway. Her eyes were more adjusted to the dark now. She could see the shape of trees in the moonlight.
Something roared out of the darkness. It lunged at Mulder and he spun away. Scully fired off three rounds. The beast continued across the dirt driveway and crashed off into the woods.
She kept her gun up until the sound of leaves and breaking branches faded. “You okay, Mulder?”
“Just swell.” He pushed himself up. In the dim light they could both see the gashes in his sleeve. “I think I’m bleeding a little, but nothing major.” He moved his arm and winced. “Won’t be doing any curls at the gym this week, though.”
“We need to get you cleaned up.”
“Scully, I think if that thing comes back, infection’s going to be the least of our worries.”
They headed up the driveway to the house. It was a dark hill against the night sky. The garage was a low cliff alongside it.
The garage door was locked. Mulder kicked the handle once, twice, and the door panels rattled with every blow. On the fourth hit the handle turned and he felt the garage door shift. He grabbed it, turned it the rest of the way, and pulled. The door slid up. He and Scully got their hands under it and heaved.
Something crunched and rustled its way out of the forest and onto the dirt driveway.
They ran into the darkened garage.
“Light switch?”
“No time,” said Mulder with a glance over his shoulder.
The freezer chest sat in the same place, humming with power. Mulder smashed the lock with the butt of his pistol. The impact knocked the Sig out of his hand to clatter on the floor.
Scully stepped forward and delivered two strikes with her own pistol. “Damn it,” she said. She flipped the weapon in her hand and delivered two shots into the clasp above the padlock. The metal twisted and shredded.
Mulder looked over the freezer. The sounds had driven the creature back a few yards, but it was already loping forward again.
Scully threw the lid back and leaned into the case. “It’s frozen to the bottom,” she said. “I can’t get it out.”
“Come on.” He crouched and heaved at the edge of the freezer.
They rammed their shoulders against the top of the case. Scully stepped past and pulled the lid back like a lever. Decades of grime and dust and mildew resisted for a moment, keeping the freezer sealed to the floor. Then it peeled itself off the floor and lurched up. A second shove tipped it over. The lid fell open against the floor.
There was a crack of frost and Marvin the alien tumbled out onto the garage floor.
Mulder and Scully stumbled back against the far wall of the garage. She had her pistol out. He glanced at his, a few feet away.
The dim moonlight silhouetted the form at the garage entrance. Nails clacked against the floor. It took another step. And another. Its legs shifted up, forward, and down, one after the other.
Its stance shifted and air hissed around its muzzle.
Scully’s finger tightened on her Sig’s trigger.
“Wait,” whispered Mulder. “Just wait.”
The Beast drew in another breath. Its head shifted. Light gleamed off an eye the size of a chicken egg. It let the air out in a snort, then sucked in more.
Then it sank low on its limbs and growled.
Scully’s arm tensed.
“Don’t,” Mulder said.
The growl faded into a low rumble that stretched out and echoed in the garage. The creature crawled forward. Its belly dragged on the floor. It sniffed at the frozen body and let out another rumble.
Scully’s aim wavered. “Is it... purring?”
“Maybe,” said Mulder. “I think so.”
The Beast shuffled forward a few more feet and nuzzled Marvin. Its front paw reached forward and pushed at the alien. The frozen body rocked back and forth on the floor.
The garage turned white. Light blasted in through the windows. Mulder and Scully threw their arms up. The Beast roared and Scully tried to line up on it again.
Figures appeared at the garage door. They marched forward. Two stood on either side of the Beast. They had long poles with snares that looped over the creature’s wide head.
A third figure stepped in front of Mulder, blocking his view. It was a man in a clean suit. Inside his helmet a rebreather hid most of his face. “Sir,” he said in a muffled voice, “are you okay? Did it injure you?”
“What? Who are you? What are you doing here?”
Another man took Scully by the arm. He was guiding her out of the garage, staying between her and the Beast. She looked back. “Mulder?”
“Scully!” He looked at the figure in front of him. “Where are you taking her?”
The Beast howled again as they dragged it away from Marvin. Two more men charged in with restraint poles. Mulder saw a glimpse of huge eyes and multiple legs and a hide that looked like gray snakeskin
.
“Leave it alone,” he shouted. Another clean-suited figure appeared at his side and grabbed his arm. “It just wants to be with him. Leave it alone!”
They dragged him out of the garage.
****
MARSH RESIDENCE
6:23 a.m.
Mulder stared at the garage in the dawn light. It had been gutted, every object in it removed, every particle of dust swept up and taken away. The whole thing was wrapped in clear plastic while they finished sterilizing it. Most of the larger vans and trucks had left hours ago.
He shook his head and winced as it pulled on his bandages. Once the endorphins faded, it was clear the Beast had hurt him more than he’d thought. The medics had cleaned and disinfected the wound, removing any possible trace of contaminants. Now there were half a dozen butterflies on his arm and enough gauze for a halfway-decent Invisible Man costume.
Scully walked up. “How’s the arm?”
“Annoyed. Frustrated.”
“You have a very expressive arm.”
“What did they tell you?”
She held out a card with a government crest on it. “Department of Fish and Game. Called in because of a large wolf possibly carrying a dangerous new strain of rabies.”
He looked at the card and sighed. “Well, that’s a new one.”
“Sorry, Mulder.”
“You saw it, didn’t you? You saw how it was acting toward the alien.”
“I saw something. It wasn’t a wolf—not a normal one anyway—but I couldn’t swear it was something extraterrestrial.”
“It had six legs.”
She shook her head. “I never got a good look at it in the light.”
He sighed again.
“Come on. Deputy Witness called a tow truck. They should be done pulling our car out of the ditch by now.”
He stood up. “Well,” he said, “maybe something good came out of this.”
“What’s that, Mulder?”
He glanced back at the house. “Maybe they’re together again.”
The End
Oversight
By Aaron Rosenberg
J. EDGAR HOOVER BUILDING
WASHINGTON, D.C.
12th DECEMBER, 1994, 4:01 p.m.
“This is a waste of my time,” Walter Skinner declared as he stormed into the room. Closing the door behind him in not quite a slam but certainly hard enough to elicit a resounding click, he stomped across to the desk and leaned over it, both hands flat on its surface. “I’ve got a division to run,” he declared, glaring down at the desk’s owner, “which is a hell of a lot more important than putting up with this bullshit.”