The Lambs: Part 2 (1/21)     
by Lamia (AKA so kiss me goodbye) 
                         
Rating: PG-13 (violence, strong language)
Category: S                             
Spoilers: Seasons 1-9, Fight the Future 
Keywords: William; Colonization 
Summary: Liam van de Kamp's life changes the day two 
FBI agents kidnap him and his parents.

Author's Note: The Lambs is a three-part story (with prologue).
               

"Little lamb, who made thee? 
Dost thou know who made thee 
Gave thee life, and bade thee feed 
By the stream, and o'er the mead -" 
*Songs of Innocence and Experience*, 
-- William Blake 


Chapter 11 

September 25, 2011 
New Mexico 

"Done!" Liam put the finishing touch - a perforated 
board - over the glass tank. "Now it's a real five-star 
frog castle." 

He brushed sweat from his forehead. The weather hadn't 
cooled much since August; even underground the heat had 
a way of seeping in and stealing what limited comfort 
could be found in their cramped quarters. 

Mulder peered into the tank. "Look at him go. He knows 
he's king." 

The tadpole hadn't got the hang of his legs yet. All 
four had popped by now and his tail was shrinking - 
being reabsorbed into his body - but he still had some 
growing to do. 

Jerry's new home was a wonder, with submerged tunnels 
to hide in and plenty of pond weed to nibble on. At one 
end was a large rock he would be able to pull himself 
onto when he got bigger. Watching the young frog zip 
about, Liam wished he could shrink himself and explore 
the aquarium. 

Mulder grinned. Perhaps he was thinking the same thing. 

Liam's former kidnapper was now firmly a friend. Their 
first night in the camp, he and his mother had only 
just settled into their quarters when Mulder had 
knocked on their door, presenting the tadpole in a 
cooking pot. 

"He's had a rough time - he didn't like the flying - 
but he got here. You should probably thank Skinner. He 
looked after him when we hit turbulence." 

Liam listened enraptured as Mulder explained how he 
beat them to the camp. He had escaped the 
supersoldiers, grabbed Jerry, raided a cellphone from a 
farmhouse and hidden until Mr. Skinner had turned up 
with Mrs. Scully and another woman. Then they headed 
north to a farm, where the owner had a large crop 
dusting plane. Mulder apologized for not having more to 
add to the tale. 

A day later when Liam was outside the infirmary waiting 
to visit his father, Mulder had turned up with a 
dripping plastic bag. 

"Look what I found," he had said, grinning. 

A bag of pond scum had never been so well received. 

Liam was grateful for the distraction; his dad was sick 
for a week, and although Dr. Scully said he was going to 
be fine, his mother hadn't wanted Liam moping around. 

The cooking pot was okay for a while but Liam knew the 
tadpole needed something bigger. He and Mulder had 
started scouting the camp for a more suitable home. It 
had been fun but frustrating exploring the base. Useful 
pickings were slim in the abandoned buildings. 

It took them more than a month to find something 
appropriate - until this morning, in fact. A rush of 
excitement equal to Christmas morning surged through 
Liam when a knock had sounded on their door and a 
familiar voice called: "Desert Express!" 

Liam pulled back the door, and there stood Mulder 
cradling a large glass container: an aquarium. 

Liam couldn't help himself. He squealed. 

Arranging and filling the tank did not take long. After 
such a long wait, it was satisfying to complete the 
task. 

Unable to tear himself away from the frog, Liam said, 
"You like your new home, don't you?" 

The tadpole hadn't complained to him about his 
makeshift pot pond, but the joyful flutter of Jerry's 
stumpy tail told Liam he was happy. Liam gazed into the 
tank, imagining what the tadpole might be seeing. 

His hands felt the tremor first. They vibrated on the 
table, which was chattering across the floor. 
"Earthquake." Mulder's arms shot forward to steady the 
tank. 

The ground roared. Glass chinked and a metal locker in 
the corner rattled. Water slopped against the tank 
walls. Liam counted to twenty before the room stopped 
heaving and his mother bustled in, hefting a load of 
laundry. 

"Did you feel it, Mom?" 

"I sure did," she said. "Everything still on the 
walls?" 

Mulder looked around. "I don't think it was serious. 
Still, it might pay to check out the rest of the base. 
Catch you later, kid." 

"Hey, Mulder," Liam called. "Gonna play ball after 
lunch?" 

"If I can find the time, Liam. I promised Gibson I'd 
help him with a project today." 

Liam didn't scowl but he wanted to. Gibson Praise 
wasn't his favorite person in the camp; they hadn't 
exactly hit it off. 

Liam and his mother had been waiting for their first 
ever meal in their new home. They were at the end of 
the line in the mess hall. The experience - being 
rushed inside, having instructions rattled off, not 
being familiar with the place or how it worked - left 
him feeling intimidated. The scientists were quartered 
in a different section of the living area, so Liam had 
no idea where they were. His mother hadn't said 
anything but she wouldn't let go of his hand. 

The mess hall tables were unoccupied; Liam could see 
people with trays and plates heading upstairs. He and 
his mother had copied those ahead of them by taking 
trays from stacks at the end of a counter. 

Liam thought they were the last ones to make it to the 
communal dinner until an unpleasant voice had accosted 
him from behind. 

"So *you're* the kid?" 

Liam shrank back when he found a misshapen man leaning 
into his space. The man's shoulders were broad and 
hunched, and his arms hung limply at his sides. Thick 
eyebrows thrust forward over thick rimmed glasses. Liam 
wondered if the man had any idea how much he resembled 
a giant, angry chimpanzee. 

The man's eyes narrowed and he snarled. "You're just 
like all the rest of them." He snatched up a tray and 
stalked off. 

His mother watched him go. "What was that all about?" 

"I don't know," Liam had said. 

By the time they met again, Liam knew who he was: 
Gibson Praise - the most hated man in camp. Liam's new 
friends were quick to fill him in on the camp 
hierarchy. Gibson was *someone*; but just what kind of 
*someone* was a matter of speculation. One thing was 
certain: none of the children liked him because he was 
mean. 

Gibson stayed apart from everyone: adults *and* 
children. He didn't invite conversation, but whenever 
the adults held a camp meeting, he always turned up - 
and though he didn't speak much, when he did, the 
others listened. Whether they liked what he had to say 
was another matter. 

Mulder didn't hate Gibson. They had a history; what 
that history could be was part of endless speculation 
among Liam's new friends. 

Some said he was an abductee who'd had some kind of 
failed experiments performed on him; others said the 
government had performed the experiments; one or two 
said he'd been abandoned as a baby and was raised by 
coyotes in the desert. Liam had his doubts, but that 
was his favorite theory. 

"Liam? Are you listening?" 

His mother snapped him from his thoughts, bringing him 
back to the little gray room. 

Mrs. van de Kamp set the basket down and headed to the 
locker, extracting a pair of hiking boots. 

"Madeleine Fawbert's come down with that fever," she 
said over her shoulder as she bent to unlace the boots. 
"They've asked me to help with the supply run today." 

Liam's head whipped round. The supply run? He had heard 
about that. The camp had grown to about ninety people 
now; everyone needed feeding, but the supply run had to 
be carefully planned. It took more than a day because 
everything had to be walked in. 

"Your dad's out doing perimeter duty. That means you'll 
be on your own until this evening, sweetheart." 

The infection in Liam's dad's leg took a week to clear, 
leaving him with a limp and two wicked scars. He had 
looked for any excuse to exercise. Dr. Scully's lips had 
pressed together when he told her he had signed up for 
the duty - a twelve-hour shift monitoring the outer 
eight-mile long perimeter - but she hadn't stopped him. 
His limp lessened and now he was going out every second 
or third day. "Makes me feel useful," he would say. 

Liam's mother knotted her hair back in a scarf. "I've 
asked Mrs. Scully to keep an eye on you today. She's 
going to take you to church. You're fine with that, 
aren't you?" 

"Can't I come with you?" 

She gave him a look - one he had no trouble 
interpreting. 

He ignored it. "Please?" 

"Liam ..." 

In some ways life was no different here than it was at 
home - except, even with all the space above ground, he 
felt confined. The novelty of living underground had 
lasted a day. He had fewer chores to do, but he didn't 
have as much freedom either. He and the other children 
in the camp were allowed to play topside most days, but 
occasionally everyone was ordered to stay below. 

It was one of the first lessons everyone learned when 
they arrived. 

The van de Kamps and the scientists had been shepherded 
into a hall with long wooden chairs. A stern faced man 
introduced to them as Major John Drummond had explained 
the rules. Most of them were common sense, but if there 
was one thing everyone took notice of, it was the 
instruction to obey the no-go times. It was no secret 
why: "There are ten thousand satellites orbiting 
earth," the Major had said. "Most of them are 
innocuous. But some are trackers. Any number of those 
satellites could be used to find us. Any one of those 
satellites could record information which could give 
away our location. One photograph is enough to destroy 
us." 

The Major went on to explain that the satellites 
themselves could be tracked. It turned out to be not as 
bad as Liam had first imagined. Although the satellites 
moved quickly, the campers always knew where they were 
and when they were coming. It wasn't like the 
satellites could sneak up on them unaware. 

Drone planes were another concern. Yet, once again, the 
campers were told they had a powerful source in a 
position to watch and warn them. 

Despite the satellites' menace and the ferocious desert 
heat, the campers seemed determined to do as much of 
their living in the sunshine as possible. While all 
meals were served in the subterranean mess hall, many 
of the campers headed upstairs to make use of the 
natural light. The topside buildings lined the old 
runway. Dinner was served at dusk when the temperature 
fell a fraction. Plastic picnic tables would appear 
like magic; Liam and the other children (and some of 
the scientists) would sit cross-legged on the runway 
tarmac, balancing their plates on their knees. Once the 
meal was over, the tables would be whisked away; 
nothing could be left out. 

"No sign of human activity," Major Drummond had said. 
"Nothing that hasn't been there for twenty years 
already. Nothing that shouldn't be there." 

At first Liam had wondered if it would be possible to 
hide so many people in the desert, but it didn't take 
him long to realize how committed the group was to 
protecting itself. 

Vehicles were always parked inside an old hangar. The 
entire time he'd been there Liam hadn't seen any being 
used, but they made everyone feel safer. Most of the 
buildings were empty and made useful storage 
facilities. 

The underground complex had several levels, which 
included old barracks and command offices, and a 
kitchen and mess hall. The campers had converted space 
to a meeting hall, an infirmary and laboratories. 

"Liam? Are you listening?" His mother's voice brought 
him back to his own underground cell again. "Since your 
father is on perimeter duty, Mrs. Scully is going to 
look after you this morning." 

"Okay." He didn't need anyone to babysit him, but he 
didn't mind. Not really. His mother got on with Dr 
Scully's mom - they spent a lot of time together. Liam 
wondered if it was because they weren't scientists or 
doctors or soldiers. Mrs. Scully was always very nice to 
Liam, and sometimes she told him stories about Dr 
Scully when she was a little girl. 

She didn't talk much about her grandchildren although 
she did tell him she had two grandsons and two 
granddaughters. 

Mr. de Rosier's comment about Dr. Scully having a 
daughter popped into his head one day, and he nearly 
asked Mrs. Scully about it, except he wondered if that 
would be bad manners and stopped himself just before he 
opened his mouth. 

Thinking about Mr. de Rosier sent an unpleasant shiver 
through him; their one-time savior hadn't been heard 
from or seen since the day he'd stepped from the bus, 
jaunty and whistling, outside Atlantic City. 

He wasn't the only one. Dr. Scully didn't say much about 
it (actually, she didn't say anything - not when Liam 
was in earshot, anyway), but she still didn't know 
where her FBI friends were. Small pockets of newcomers 
arrived about twice a week; Dr. Scully no longer rushed 
to the front of the crowd whenever they were welcomed 
into the camp. 

"Are you sure I can't come?" It was worth one last 
attempt. "I can carry stuff for you ..." 

His mom didn't get angry with him; instead, she used 
her 'I understand' tone of voice to mollify him as she 
explained why that was not such a great idea. He 
experienced a twinge of irritation and struggled to 
conceal it for her sake. He could tell she was excited 
as she hurried about their quarters organizing herself 
for the supply run. It was not going to be an easy 
task, but this was the happiest he'd seen her since his 
dad had walked out of the infirmary. 

As she prepared, Liam dressed for church, and then they 
were closing the door behind them, and slipping out 
into the corridor. 

Liam didn't have another opportunity to beg his mother 
to take him. Mrs. Scully's quarters were at the other 
end of the long hall and she was waiting for them. 

With a quick kiss on his cheek, orders to be on his 
best behavior, and a short conversation with Mrs 
Scully, Mrs. van de Kamp took her leave. 

"Ready, Liam?" 

Mrs. Scully was about to pull the door behind her when 
she tutted to herself and slipped back inside. Liam 
glimpsed in as she picked up a book from her bedside 
table. Her room was smaller than the three rooms he and 
his parents occupied: just a single space with a bunk 
set, small cupboard and a sitting chair. Like all the 
other underground quarters there were no windows. She 
hadn't put up any pictures but she must have scrubbed 
the walls because the cinder blocks seemed too glaring 
white to look at. She didn't have much in the way of 
decoration, but there were several photos in frames and 
a black photo album on a small bedside table. And a 
crucifix. Mrs. Scully was Catholic, which meant she 
liked to go to church - another thing she had in common 
with his mother. 

Church services had started up not long after the van 
de Kamps arrived. 

Liam had been confused when Major Drummond, the old man 
who had shown them around the camp, started the 
services. He thought it was odd for a soldier to be 
organizing church. When he asked his mother about it, 
he was taught an another new word - ecumenical - and 
learned about the Salvation Army. 

As they headed upstairs, a door slammed and footsteps 
echoed along the corridor. The doctor flashed a smile 
at Liam when she caught up with them. 

"Room for one more?" 

She slipped in beside her mother. Together they passed 
through heavy doors leading to the first floor and then 
on into dazzling sunlight. 

Squinting, Liam could make out several large sunshades 
rigged up on the old runway. People were carrying long 
wooden chairs from a nearby hangar. 

Chapel, service, church, mass, temple, prayers: 
everyone had a different name for it; it wasn't like 
regular church. For one thing, it wasn't a proper 
church. Not everyone believed the same thing, his 
mother explained. 

"Can we do that?" Somehow the notion that Baptists and 
Catholics and Methodists and Jehovah's Witnesses and 
Muslims and Mormons could mix in church left him 
bemused. Then there was Shu, who said he was Buddhist 
*and* had a Shinto shrine in his home in Japan. 

Unconvinced, Liam had asked some of his new friends; he 
could still feel residual heat in his cheeks from the 
moment Ellie Paskowitz laughed at him. 

Sure, they could mingle, she said. It happened all the 
time; didn't he know anything? 

Ellie was ten - like him - but the way she effortlessly 
peppered her speech with words like mingle and foray 
made her seem much more sophisticated. And on this 
topic, she could speak with authority; she and her 
brother Aaron had an agnostic Jewish father and a 
devout Catholic mother. 

Ellie and her brother had a two-week head start on Liam 
reaching the camp. They were already calling it home by 
the time he arrived and had staked their claim for king 
and queen. But even they'd been impressed when they 
conducted their own induction [translation: 
interrogation] of Liam. 

The day the van de Kamps had arrived and emerged into 
the sunshine with their dinner trays, Ellie and Aaron 
had pounced, giving him an invitation he couldn't 
refuse. Ellie took his arm and directed him to a rise 
off to one side of a row of buildings. There, three 
other children sat on the low ridge which overlooked 
the camp and the picnicking grownups. 

Liam had sat balancing his plate on his knees while 
Ellie and Aaron had surveyed the grownups with 
hawk-like intensity. Their gaze was drawn to the 
numbers milling around Mr. Mulder (as Liam still called 
him at that stage) and Dr. Scully. 

Ellie got straight to the point. "Is it true you know 
Fox Mulder and Dana Scully personally?" 

Liam was still chewing when she set her emptied plate 
aside, her dark eyes wide. She couldn't disguise the 
mixture of incredulity and envy in her voice. Chatter 
among the others stopped. 

Liam stopped himself from spluttering. *Fox*? 

Aaron Paskowitz leaned on his elbows against the hill. 
"You came with lots of people. I bet Mulder and Scully 
don't even know your name - you just caught the same 
bus." 

Liam faced off against them. 

"Not true. Mr. Mulder and Dr. Scully *personally* came to 
my house to rescue me and my mom and dad." 

Aaron jeered. "Mister Mulder?" 

"Yes," Liam replied, keeping his cool. "*Mister* Mulder 
even rescued my tadpole; brought him all the way from 
home - just for *me*." 

As retorts went, it wasn't much, but that didn't seem 
to matter. Brother and sister dropped all swagger and 
had the decency to look impressed. 

"You brought a pet? Cool," Ellie said. 

It sealed their friendship and earned him respect, but 
Ellie wasn't going to give up her place at the top of 
the pecking order easily. She took any chance to assert 
her superiority. Somehow that seemed to involve making 
Liam or whoever her next victim was look stupid. 

She would be at church today. Her mother would make 
sure of that. 

While the Major organized a roster for the services, 
the idea was each week someone different would lead the 
service in whatever way they wanted. They talked about 
anything: faith, hope, love, trust, forgiveness, how to 
treat each other. 

So far it was working out more interesting than regular 
church. As well as Bible readings and prayers and 
songs, people read from books Liam wasn't familiar 
with, told personal stories, arranged plays and ran 
discussion groups. 

Liam had heard his mother tell his father after the 
first the service, it was a "surprisingly successful 
experiment in exercising tolerance." 

Liam sandwiched himself between the Scullys. Ellie's 
plaited brown hair hung dead center down her back in 
front of him. He resisted an urge to reach out and 
tweak it. Around them, the chairs filled quickly - 
probably because not that many people actually came - 
less than thirty out of the whole camp, he estimated. 

Mulder never came. 

Gibson Praise never came either. Why didn't anyone make 
him come? 

Liam sat still but inside he churned. How come his 
mother seemed so keen to get out of going to church 
today? So happy to be leaving him behind? Why did *he* 
have to go to church? 

A woman carrying a book moved to the table which 
doubled as the lectern. 

A riot of frustration raged in his head and he couldn't 
concentrate on the service. He couldn't stop wondering 
where his parents were. What they were doing. 

Dr. Scully roused him when the service ended. The 
grownups usually stuck around to talk; the children had 
their own ritual too. 

Liam made his way to the other kids milling about on an 
old basketball court squeezed between two barracks. Of 
the ninety people living at the camp at least a dozen 
were children and teenagers; whether they attended 
church or not, somehow the children all ended up in the 
same place late on Sunday mornings. 

Liam heard Ellie before he saw her. "You can stay if 
you want, but I don't care. I'm going." 

She was planted in the middle of the action, hands on 
hips, squaring off against her brother. 

"Liam's not a fraidy cat." Her smile was calculating. 
"You'll come won't you, Liam?" 

"Come where?" he asked. 

She pointed eastward. The desert stretched out until it 
hit the rocky hills of a small mountain range. 

"Charlie says there are some buildings that way that 
they're gonna turn into a prison just in case they 
capture anyone trying to break in. I'm gonna go see, 
but Aaron hasn't got the guts to go beyond the headless 
horseman." 

The headless horseman was a weird shaped cactus they'd 
named to mark their own boundary. Ellie claimed it 
looked like a picture she had seen in a book once. 

Although the adults hadn't set boundaries, Liam knew he 
and his friends were expected to be careful. It made 
sense. With the supersoldiers fresh in his memory, he 
hadn't been tempted to go beyond eyeshot of the 
furthermost base shelter. 

But four weeks had passed since then. 

Mounting frustration was fueling the desire to steal 
back some of the freedom he was used to - and it 
wouldn't *really* be doing anything dangerous and 
wrong. From the sound of it, the buildings were beyond 
the inner fence but still within the outer confines of 
the base. They wouldn't precisely be leaving ... 

He wouldn't be able to slip away without saying 
something to Mrs. Scully. He waited for Dr. Scully to 
move away. 

"Mrs. Scully, you don't mind if I play with Ellie and 
Charlie and everyone, do you? Mom usually lets me ..." 

*That* wasn't a lie. 

Ellie smiled at Mrs. Scully. 

Mrs. Scully smiled back. "Well, so long as you're not 
going far -" 

"We'll be back in time for lunch." *A late lunch ...* 

A voice stopped him in his tracks. "Make sure you are, 
Liam. You know what time curfew is today?" 

The doctor must have wandered up behind them. Curfew 
was the term they used for the no-go hours when they 
should be underground or inside because of the 
satellites. 

"Yes, Dr. Scully." He inwardly cursed. It was a short 
curfew - just one hour - but at one o'clock, the most 
inconvenient time of day. How could he have forgotten? 

Ellie tugged him away. "Not to worry. We'll be back 
before then," she said under her breath. Five of them 
set off. Aaron had given in and was soon at the head of 
their party, waving about a walking stick he had picked 
up and pretending he was their chief. 

The trick to evading adults was to appear nonchalant; 
that was how Ellie described it. So, nonchalantly, they 
meandered, skipped and leaped across the desert, 
seeking whatever natural cover the landscape could give 
them - cacti, small ridges and rises, large rocks. 

It was all too easy. 

They reached three small tin buildings less than thirty 
minutes later; it was hard not to feel cheated by the 
experience. 

Liam stared at them. Heat made them shimmer. Shacks, 
really. With crumbling walls and decaying tin roofs, 
the hardest thing to comprehend was how they would stay 
up in a heavy storm - let alone keep prisoners locked 
up. 

Liam and his new friends wandered in and out, unmasked 
disgust on their faces. 

"No shackles, no manacles, no chains," Charlie said, 
flopping to the concrete floor in the largest one. "No 
bars, no doors, no nothing. Just a shitty shack." 

One by one, the others dropped beside him; the only 
consolation was the shade under the roof. Liam rested 
against the cool ground; the corrugated lines overhead 
seemed to be rippling. An annoying ache was promising 
to drill through his eye into his brain. 

He wasn't used to having headaches. 

"Why would they keep prisoners here anyway?" Nick had 
only just arrived at the camp. His mother was another 
scientist. Most of their parents were scientists. 
Sometimes it made Liam feel like the odd one out 
although nobody had ever mentioned it. 

"Dunno," Charlie replied. "Just heard my dad discussing 
it. They think we need to keep the aliens away from us 
or something. Anyway. If they captured one they'd never 
be able to keep it at the camp - they fly apart when 
they get too close to magnetite. Dad says they'll never 
make it in. The camp's full of it." 

Something about Charlie's reasoning bothered Liam, but 
his head was too fuzzy to work out what the problem 
was. 

It was fun just sitting and talking - or in Liam's 
case, listening to the others. Everyone at camp was 
kind, he didn't have to do much to help out, and there 
were no real demands on his time. In real life it 
wouldn't be like that. For one thing, he'd be back at 
school. In the camp his time was free - it was just ... 
*he* wasn't. But here - right now - it was fun doing 
what he wanted to do. Not having to account for his 
every move. He sighed in contentment. 

They discussed all sorts of things - schools, friends, 
Gibson Praise, aliens, the earthquake earlier that 
morning. Nick wanted to hear Liam's story about the 
supersoldiers. Before he could start, Ellie jumped in, 
taking over and telling the tale for him. Usually, this 
might annoy him, but it was kind of fun hearing someone 
else tell it. Like hearing a story about someone else. 
He laughed to himself but didn't correct her when she 
described how Liam had to grab the wheel and steer 
their vehicle to smash a supersoldier into a post. 

When he had sat long enough, he rose for a walk, hoping 
to shake the tightness in his head. He made it to the 
sunny side of the shack and shaded his eyes. 

They weren't that far from the rocks and cliff faces of 
the hills that fenced the camp on the eastern side. If 
they got closer to the hills, there might be more to 
explore - maybe another secret canyon like the one 
where the supersoldier disintegrated. And if there was 
magnetite in the area, it was probably safe from 
supersoldiers, right? 

His eyes skimmed the landscape, dismissing the endless 
scratchy bushes and bare patches of stony ground and 
the mysterious dark spot that ... 

He did a double take. A spot? A hole? Out here? "Hey, 
guys, come see this." 

His spirit jumped, headache forgotten; there was still 
some adventure left in the day. 

They struck out the short distance to it. A hole in the 
ground - or a pit - it was hard to say. The earth 
around the rim didn't look stable. 

Liam got on his hands and knees and edged as close as 
he dared. 

Charlie gulped. "Maybe instead of a prison, they're 
just going to kill people. Maybe this is a grave ..." 

"No," Liam said. "Nobody dug this." 

"Oh, yeah? How'd you know that, genius?" Ellie could 
never resist a dig. She stretched to get a better look. 
Clods of loosened dirt were crumbling in. The hole 
looked deep enough to hurt if you fell in. 

"Well. If someone did dig it, what did they do with the 
dirt? There's no dirt pile here." 

"So ... What? The hole just magically appeared?" 

"Magic isn't real, you know," Liam said, wondering if 
Ellie would respect some of her own snide medicine. 

"I get it." Nick laughed. "There's something underneath 
the dirt! My best friend's car fell into a hole in his 
backyard once. He woke up one morning after a rain 
storm and found it poking up. Turns out an old pipe 
under their lawn collapsed because of the rain and the 
ground sank." 

It was a good explanation - one Liam hadn't thought of. 
"Exactly!" he said. 

"So there's something down there?" Ellie's eyes had a 
twinkle Liam had learned to recognize. 

"Something bigger than a pipe, I'd say," he said. He 
could see where she was going with this. The lure of 
adventure turned from a tickle to an itch. Everyone 
could feel it. Something big and hollow under the 
ground, something secret and exciting - but what would 
they need to check it out? 

Before he could consider the situation, Ellie gasped 
and grabbed Charlie's wrist. "What time is it?" 

Her face was a picture of panic. 

"Curfew starts in fifteen minutes." 

All caution forgotten, Aaron jumped up, causing a chunk 
of dirt to break away from the edge. "Shit." 

He snapped when no one else moved. "Don't just sit 
there. If we run -" 

"We'll get ourselves into even deeper shit," Ellie 
said, panic banished. How she could zip so suddenly 
from one extreme to another was a mystery to Liam. 

"If we leave now, there's no way all of us are gonna 
make it back in time. Best thing to do is just wait 
here in the sheds. It's just an hour - no biggie." 

"But we'll get in -" 

"Trouble?" The sneer on her lips expressed her scorn. 

Liam could see her point though. 

"What would you rather be?" she said. "Grounded because 
you forgot the time and maybe made a little mistake? Or 
getting everyone dead because you are stupid?" 

Nick forestalled a fight between the two. 

"What's that?" He was looking towards the hills. 

Liam got to his feet to see better. Nick pointed to a 
dark shape at the base of a rock. Swooping dots in the 
sky circled in figures of eight. Liam felt the hairs on 
his arm pop up; his head started pounding again. 

As if something else controlled his body, he began to 
move. Sore head or not. He ignored Ellie when she 
called. His walk became a run and then a sprint. 

His head thumped with every step but he ignored that 
too. 

He fell breathless at the side of it. Blond hair lay 
across its collar and he flicked it aside. The skin on 
its bare neck was burning. The body began to convulse 
and murmur. Liam strained to make out what it was 
saying. 

"Vindy obgeh, vindy obgeh, vindy ob -" 

Its strength was failing. 

"Ellie! Nick!" 

It was magic how they appeared at his side. 

"Is it -?" Ellie asked. 

"No! You've got to get him inside!" Liam sprang to his 
feet. 

"Liam -" Ellie's voice wailed over the dunes and 
scrubby bush. "Where are you going?" 

His feet tore up the ground. 

"To get help!"