The Lambs: Part 1 (7/10)
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).
 

Chapter 7 

August 10, 2011 
Fremont County 
Wyoming 

"Well?" Mr. de Rosier craned his neck to see Dr. Scully. 
"What are our instructions?" 

Dr. Scully closed the cellphone and slipped it into her 
pocket. Maybe it was a private message, but Liam felt 
they were entitled to know what was in it. 

The doctor pursed her lips. Was she going to fall into 
her usual habit of silence? 

"They've lost track of us. They've been ordered to 
clear the debris and return to base - wherever that is. 
We're to proceed as we are. We'll receive another 
message in half an hour with new instructions. Damn 
it!" 

Her fist clenched. "Who's sending these messages?" 

"You don't know?" 

Liam had the impression Mr. de Rosier was surprised or 
disappointed - or both. 

When Mr. Mulder and Dr. Scully had discussed their 
destination that morning, Liam had been sure Mr. Mulder 
wasn't telling the doctor everything. It was unsettling 
that even *she* was in the dark on some matters. 

Why did adults have to complicate things? If Dr. Scully 
and Mr. Mulder had been honest - with the van de Kamps 
and with each other - right from the start, maybe they 
wouldn't be where they were now. 

"He didn't tell me." 

"Pardon?" 

"Mulder. He didn't tell me. It's his phone - he gave it 
to me just before he took off. He threw mine away when 
they tried to run us off the road." 

"He must have told you something?" 

Liam, peering around, saw the doctor make a face. 

"He got the first message warning us of trouble three 
days ago." Her voice was far away. "It contained 
explicit instructions that Mulder insisted we follow 
and which took us on a bizarre route across the 
country, eventually leading us to the van de Kamps ..." 

Mr. de Rosier was taking them west, away from the main 
road. They were following a rugged track around low 
hills. There weren't many trees in the area, just 
scrubby shrubs, but the hills closing in on them gave 
Liam a sense of security. The sun was not yet overhead; 
even though so much had happened already, it was still 
early morning. 

Liam caught his father's eyes and was rewarded with a 
crimped smile. Dr. Scully had fashioned a cushion for Mr. 
van de Kamp's head out of her jacket. She had also 
pulled a blanket on the seat over him. The blanket 
covered his legs, hiding any signs he'd been shot. The 
pinched look about his face was the only evidence of 
his injury. That, and the blood stains on the doctor's 
hands and front. 

"I asked him who the messages were from," Dr. Scully 
said. "He told me he'd tell me when he understood 
himself. I think he has some suspicions. The only other 
thing I know is that he trusts them." 

There was a catch in her voice. 

"But you don't?" The frightened woman was gone. Liam's 
mom was back to business. 

There had been no opportunity to talk to her about Dr. 
Scully and Jerry, but was she, like Liam, starting to 
think the van de Kamp family had done Dr. Scully an 
injustice? 

Mr. Mulder had sped off, leaving Liam no time to rescue 
the tadpole. After the frightening escape they'd just 
had, he couldn't work out how he was feeling. Confused, 
mainly. Numb. 

Not numb enough to prevent a heart pang. The tadpole 
was gone. 

The loss hurt. Less than a day and Liam had failed the 
little creature. 

"It's not as easy as that," the doctor said. "The 
messages always come from a different source - never 
the same number - yet Mulder never questions them. 
Whoever is sending them always knows where we are. It's 
uncanny. I - I had a similar experience once, back when 
Lee -" 

She took a deep breath. 

"Mulder had gone into hiding. I was under surveillance. 
That was the first year I ever heard of supersoldiers. 
They had my apartment bugged. They knew things. When I 
realized just how deeply they'd burrowed into my life, 
I felt ... violated." 

The door to Dr. Scully's world was ajar. Liam listened, 
hanging on to every word. 

"They wanted me to flush Mulder out. They thought I 
knew where he was - how to get him to return. They 
wanted me to be very sure of the power they had over me 
- what they could make me do. 

"The outcome was unpleasant." 

She said no more. 

*Don't stop there. What happened?* 

A breach in the walls of Castle Scully raised so many 
questions. Why had Mulder been missing? Where did he 
go? What did the soldiers make Dr. Scully do? When did 
all this happen? 

Mr. de Rosier was more concerned with the present. "If 
Mulder knew this had already happened to you, do you 
think he'd let it happen again?" 

He wasn't interested in Scully's early memories of 
supersoldiers. Then again, maybe he already knew? He 
may never have met her before today but he did say he 
had known *of* Dr. Scully and Mr. Mulder. How did he know 
about them? 

Dr. Scully gave a small sigh. "I trust Mulder's 
judgment. I just wish I knew more about how and why 
this is all happening." 

Mr. de Rosier laughed. "Isn't that what we all end up 
saying?" 

The Ford jerked up an incline; Mr. de Rosier had taken 
them well away from any sort of inhabited area; the 
hills further west gave way to hostile territory - 
inhospitable mountain ranges with steep gullies and 
impassable faces. 

"Text messages. That's how we got involved. Of course, 
really, we all got involved when the abductions started 
- but that's another story. We all knew each other from 
the camp." 

"I'm sorry," Mrs. van de Kamp said, not sounding sorry 
at all. "Maybe there is something in what Dr. Scully's 
been trying to tell us - maybe - but how can we make up 
our minds what to believe if you keep sheltering us 
from important details? You keep making these 
references to things that we can't possibly know 
anything about." 

It was a valid point and Mr. de Rosier knew it. Still, 
he deferred to the doctor. 

"Dr. Scully, what do we do? Do you still want to stop? 
That place I was telling you about is just up ahead." 

Dr. Scully leveraged herself against his seat to pull 
herself up. What she saw seemed to satisfy her. 

"Yes, stop, please. For Mr. van de Kamp's sake. However 
safe these messages are, I don't want us *to need* to 
rely on them." 

He nodded. "Right then. How about we swap stories after 
we get your husband seen to, Marie? The place I'm 
taking you is just over that ridge." 

He pointed to a craggy outcrop of razor sharp rocks. 
The track they were on swept up around it. There was no 
way of telling what lay beyond. 

Mrs. van de Kamp didn't have a choice. 

The Ford rounded the outcrop. Before them opened a 
long, grassed valley. In the distance, nestled between 
two low hills was a dark, pointed structure - a roof, 
Liam guessed. 

"I used to come here hunting sometimes," Mr. de Rosier 
said. "It's a good base to head up into the mountains. 
You do any hunting?" 

"Some." Just shooting around the farm. His father had 
promised him when he was older they'd go deeper into 
the ranges behind their property. 

"It doesn't get used much these days; we should have it 
to ourselves." 

The track was cut up from heavy rainfall. Mr. de Rosier 
apologized when they dropped into an especially large 
rut and the car's suspension groaned. 

They were all relieved when they pulled up outside the 
tiny hunting cabin. Mr. de Rosier parked in a lean-to 
formed between the building and the hill. No one 
looking down on the valley from the direction they had 
come would be able to tell anyone was there. 

Mr. de Rosier was first out of the car. 

"I'll check inside - make sure it's habitable," he said 
to Dr. Scully, who was still trying to extract herself. 
Once she was out, she started stretching. 

Liam's mother made no move. "Liam, why don't you go 
help, Mr. de Rosier?" 

"Go on, Liam," Mr. van de Kamp said. "I'll be fine once 
we get inside." 

Recognizing it would be pointless to argue, Liam 
climbed out the car and followed the path Mr. de Rosier 
had taken. 

There was no lock on the door, which was weathered and 
sagging on its hinges. Liam pushed it open and stood 
for a second, allowing his eyes to adjust. 

The cabin was dark and small; there wasn't much to see. 
Beyond a bench, cupboards and a table was a fireplace 
along one long wall, and two sets of bunks on either 
side of a window at the far end. 

From the hardened wax pools on the table and the 
lantern by the fire, Liam guessed the building had no 
electricity. Mr. de Rosier removed blankets from drawers 
in a bureau under the window. Liam navigated his way 
around the rickety table. 

Despite its ramshackle appearance, the cabin was tidy. 
Several old paperbacks (the top cover showed a man with 
a gun and deer) had been stacked on the bureau. A box 
of kindling and firewood, conveniently by the fire, was 
full - awaiting the next person to use the place. 

*That's us.* 

Mr. de Rosier's brisk movements disturbed long-settled 
dust in the building. Liam's nose tickled as he 
breathed in. 

The three able-bodied adults lifted Mr. van de Kamp from 
the car and settled him on one of the bunks. Both women 
had wrinkled their noses at the sight of the bunks' 
blotchy mattresses. Dr. Scully radiated vibes of 
disapproval. Mr. van de Kamp, however, was less 
concerned. 

"Just put me down before you drop me," he said. 

As soon as he was on the bed, Dr. Scully peeled back the 
bandage she had applied in the car. She didn't shoo 
Liam or his mother away as she examined the wound. 

It was their first chance to see where Dr. Scully had 
shot Mr. van de Kamp. Angry, raw flesh on his dad's left 
inner thigh was testament to the bullet's power. 

"This is where it entered and here's where it exited," 
Dr. Scully said. 

The bullet had more than grazed the surface of the leg 
but not a lot more. "It's unlikely the bullet shattered 
on impact, but without an x-ray I can't be one hundred 
percent certain nothing's left in there." 

Liam's father stayed silent as Dr. Scully swabbed the 
wound with an antiseptic pad, but he was pasty and his 
hands quivered. 

Mr. de Rosier approached, holding out a bottle of water 
and a packet of Tylenol. "It's the strongest stuff 
we've got." 

Mr. van de Kamp took the water and pills. He winced as 
the doctor started to apply fresh gauze and bandages to 
the leg. 

"How's it looking, doc?" he asked gruffly. 

"Sore - sorry." Her quiet apology was a surprise. 

Liam's father's face betrayed nothing. "So why'd you do 
it?" 

"Did you see any of what happened in the car back in 
that field?" She wasn't being sarcastic. "Enough." 

"Who would you rather be with right now - those men or 
here with us?" 

He ignored her question. "You shot me." 

"I'd do it again." 

"You shoot me, then you save me?" 

The doctor regarded him with a challenging stare. 

"I was pretty angry," he said. 

"Yes, you were." 

"You shot me in front of my son. He saw everything." 

"He did." 

"You pull out a handgun - what was it? A sig? - and 
shoot me: a target moving rapidly away from you." 

"I did." 

"You say you were aiming for my leg. You put that 
bullet right where you wanted it; that's a pretty 
phenomenal shot. Are you sure *you're* human?" 

The question caught her off-guard. Liam had been 
watching them, listening to the exchange, like a rapt 
tennis fan watching a marathon volley between two 
supreme players. Dr. Scully dropped the ball. 

"Yes ... no." She cracked with emotion. It was 
impossible to tell if she was laughing or sobbing. She 
turned her head before Liam could see if there were 
tears in her eyes. 

His father aimed for an ace. 

"You saved my life. In fact, if everything you've been 
telling us is true, you've saved my life more than 
once, haven't you? Why? Why am I so important to you?" 

There was no evasion, no attempt at deflection, but her 
answer came from a thousand miles away. "I made a 
promise a long, long time ago." 

Liam and his father looked at each other. 

"What promise?" 

Dr. Scully disregarded the question with a shake of her 
head and put her game mask back in place. Just as in 
the car, she had come round, taking control of the 
situation again. 

"Dr. Scully, you say you received a text giving you 
instructions that eventually led you to our farm. To 
us." 

She nodded. 

"Did you know us?" 

She shook her head. "No ..." 

There was a waver in her hesitancy. 

"Did you know why you were being sent to us?" 

She closed her eyes and drew in a large breath as 
though preparing herself for an awful confession which 
never came. Her eyes opened again. 

"You are being targeted by supersoldiers, Mr. van de 
Kamp," she said, tucking a blanket around him. "We were 
sent to save you." 

His father read her blank expression, and seeing the 
walls had gone up, he did not pursue it. Dr. Scully 
excused herself and retreated from the cabin. Her head 
was bowed: a defendant leaving the room while the jury 
deliberated. 

Mr. de Rosier, who had seated himself at the table, 
observed the exchange with interest. He was leaning 
back in his chair, fingers laced behind his head. 

"Don't be too hard on her." 

Liam's mother crossed the room to check outside. "What 
do you know about Dr. Scully?" 

Mr. de Rosier shrugged. "Probably no more than she's 
already told you. She was an FBI agent for more than a 
decade. Most of that time was spent investigating cases 
that defied conventional explanation." 

"Mr. Mulder said the same thing yesterday," Liam's dad 
said. 

He had drawn himself up into a sitting position, 
supported by the wall. Liam had climbed onto the foot 
of the bed. 

"Of course, it was her involvement with the x-files - 
as those cases were called - which probably put her 
where she is today. What else do I know about Dr. 
Scully?" 

He studied the log roof. "Early on she was abducted by 
a madman - turned up in a coma a month or two later 
with absolutely no idea what happened to her. Been 
suffering since then. I understand there was some kind 
of family tragedy - work-related - a sister or a 
brother, maybe, was shot in Dr. Scully's apartment. A 
case of mistaken identity. After that she nearly died 
from artificially-induced cancer. Seems I remember 
something about a lost child as well." 

"Artificially-induced cancer?" Mr. van de Kamp said, 
incredulous, a half-second before his wife jumped in. 

"Lost child?" Thought lines spread on her forehead. 

Mr. de Rosier frowned. "She didn't tell you this?" 

"In hindsight, I can see why she wouldn't," Mr. van de 
Kamp said. 

"No. I suppose not. I - ah - I didn't tell you, okay?" 
Mr. de Rosier said. 

"No, no, man. If you don't feel comfortable -" 

"I want to know." 

Liam's mom fixed Mr. de Rosier with a firm stare. He 
wouldn't be going anywhere until he told her 
everything. 

He cleared his throat. 

"Well, Dr. Scully was one of a number of women who 
developed a rare brain tumor. All claimed to be alien 
abductees or had inexplicable periods of being missing. 
They believed the cancer was a result of procedures or 
experiments done on them during their abductions." 

Dr. Scully *had* been kidnapped by aliens. 

*I was right!* 

Liam started to point this out but stopped when his 
mother gave him the "zip it" finger. Now was not the 
time to gloat. 

"All of 'em - except Dr. Scully - passed away." Mr. de 
Rosier scratched his head in the manner of someone 
trying to recall long forgotten memories. "They called 
it a miraculous recovery. Spontaneous remission." 

Mrs. van de Kamp ran her hand through her hair. "And the 
lost child?" 

"That was more peculiar. Something about scientists 
harvesting her ova and creating a little girl as one of 
their experiments." Mr. de Rosier's cheeks had gone 
flame red. "Story goes Dr. Scully found the little girl 
after the kid's parents died. Kid died too, apparently, 
but not before Dr. Scully tried to adopt her." 

Liam's mother relaxed; her stance loosened and her next 
question was less intense. "When was this?" 

She checked outside again. When she nodded the 
all-clear to Mr. de Rosier, he answered. "I'm not sure 
about exact details, but a few years before your young 
fellow was born." 

The story of the lost child confused Liam; what 
relationship did Dr. Scully have to the child? Liam 
*knew* Mr. de Rosier was implying something. But she 
couldn't be the kid's mom - Mr. de Rosier said the 
girl's parents died. But there was a special reason why 
the doctor wanted to adopt *her* in particular. 

Which got him thinking about his own adoption. He would 
have to ask his mother if there was a special reason 
why they adopted him. 

Mrs. van de Kamp shook her head. "How does one 
assimilate all this? How is it *you* know about 
supersoldiers and no one else has ever heard of them?" 

Reading between the lines, Liam knew she was really 
saying, "You're normal - how come you believe this so 
easily?" 

Mr. de Rosier grinned. 

"It's cliché. I don't even remember how old I was when 
I first started having 'experiences.' I got off luckier 
than others. I don't remember much - and none of it 
frightening. It was just something that happened. I 
probably deluded myself into thinking it was normal but 
I never dared tell anyone. I wasn't as regular as some 
of the others. But that final time ... 

"The final time all I remember is coming to in a camp 
with about fifty others, every one of them as dazed as 
I was. We were popping up all-but-dead in fields all 
over the place. There was a group of people who 
dedicated themselves to finding us and healing us - I 
don't know how. From what I've been told, if they 
hadn't found me and healed me, I'd have been breaking 
*into* the car today - not trying to escape." 

Liam found that prospect horrifying but intriguing. 
"You would have been a supersoldier?" 

"So I'm told. After a month or so of rehabilitation, I 
was allowed to leave the camp. They gave us advice: 
don't return home; move somewhere rural, 
out-of-the-way. We're not supposed to draw attention to 
ourselves." 

Mr. van de Kamp snorted. "I think your cover got blown 
today." 

"A sacrifice I was willing to make." Mr. de Rosier 
straightened in his chair. "We knew as soon as we got 
the text we'd have less than a day to get out of the 
area." 

"We?" Mrs. van de Kamp said. 

"Another piece of advice they gave us at the camp: 
don't go it alone, if you can. I got on well with some 
other abductees. Five of us decided to settle in 
Fremont County. Actually, I was born in Lander, so it 
was like coming home for me." 

He looked at Liam. "I hunted in these hills when I was 
a kid - back when things were much, much simpler. 

"The five of us - we don't get together much but we do 
keep an eye on each other. We keep in touch via coded 
cellphone messages, email, that sort of thing. Things 
are usually pretty quiet around here. We had been 
keeping our eye on a couple of newcomers - the men in 
the patrol car who tried to run you off the road. We 
don't know why they're here - we don't want to risk 
getting too close - but we waited *and* we watched." 

His smile reached his eyes. "My cellphone woke me up 
this morning. I don't know. In some ways I feel - after 
ten long years - I finally woke up today ..." 

The room fell silent. 

"I don't have much else to offer. Being an abductee 
doesn't make you real popular. And it can be difficult, 
not just for you, but your family ..." 

Liam searched for the right word to describe Mr. de 
Rosier. Sturdy sprang to mind: he was big, he seemed 
kind-hearted, he was dependable - he came to their aid 
after all. He couldn't imagine Mr. de Rosier not getting 
on with anyone. 

After a pause Mr. van de Kamp spoke. "When did you come 
back to Fremont County?" 

Mr. de Rosier had to think. "Hmm. Ten years ago. 
Eleven?" 

"And no one's bothered you until now? You were never 
abducted again?" 

"Since that final time, they haven't touched me." 

"How do you know they haven't just lost interest in 
you? And why bother hiding if you're no good to them 
anymore?" 

Mr. de Rosier was giving his parents a lot to mull over. 

"You're right. It's not like the public believes us 
when we try and warn them. Truth is we don't know what 
these aliens want. According to the man who healed me, 
there's no way I could ever be turned into a 
supersoldier now. Also, we have no idea if the aliens 
know we're alive. Abductees typically have small, 
metallic objects implanted in them; when victims are in 
their "pre-supersoldier phase" - when they are either 
healed or taken over - they no longer have those 
implants. They must have been removed for some reason. 

"Some speculate the implants are locator beacons that 
help them track abductees. They hypothesize 
supersoldiers no longer need them because they have a 
hive mind and communicate telepathically. Therefore 
they do not require the implants. But I don't know. 
Since all my implants are gone - maybe they're not 
tracking me anymore. Still, I don't want to take any 
chances." 

"You've basically been healed, you said. So, there's 
some kind of cure - or a vaccine - against it? Against 
being a supersoldier?" 

"You're asking the wrong person," Mr. de Rosier replied. 
"Dr. Scully's your man for that question." "Mr. de Rosier 
-" 

"Garrett, please." 

"Garrett, how do you know so much about Dr. Scully? Was 
she also healed in a camp like you?" Mr. de Rosier 
laughed. 

"Healed? No, not as far as I know. Agent Mulder, on the 
other hand ... Once you're interested in these things 
you do what everyone else with a computer and curiosity 
does - you look it up on the internet. 

"Dr. Scully and Agent Mulder have achieved cult status 
among ufologists and abductees alike. They've never 
been secretive about their work. In fact, getting it 
out there was kind of the whole point. Trouble was, 
'getting it out there' somehow got shortened to 'out 
there.' It's a hard sell to a cynical market. Face it - 
you're proof." 

"So we could just go online and find out all about Dr. 
Scully? It would be as easy as that?" 

"There'd be some info. Most of it's dated, though. 
Agent Mulder and Agent Scully went off the radar some 
time ago when they left the FBI. But people still talk 
about them - gossip, rumor, it's all out there." He 
laughed. "Their 'agent' titles are a hangover from the 
old days. I guess you could say they have a lot of 
underground support. None of us hesitated this morning. 
We all got identical texts. We coordinated our rescue 
as fast as we were able." 

They were back on to the text messages. Liam wondered 
where the doctor was and if she was staying away to 
give them time to interrogate Mr. de Rosier. But if they 
were going to discuss the texts, shouldn't they get her 
back? 

"But you don't know who sent them?" His parents were 
beginning to see the importance of the messages. 

"No," Mr. de Rosier said. "Sometimes you just have to 
believe." 

"But believe in what?" Mrs. van de Kamp asked. 

Mr. van de Kamp was concerned about something else. 

"The five of you who helped us this morning - you all 
have to flee today? Where are you going? Where are your 
friends?" 

"I'm to get you to safety. The others will head in 
separate directions. Our helpful texter has promised 
further assistance." 

After sitting so long on the bed, Liam made a face. One 
leg had gone to sleep. Sensing his discomfort, his 
mother had a quick solution. 

"Why don't you go outside for bit, honey? You've been 
sitting most the morning." 

He didn't feel like arguing. He looked at his father. 

"Go on," Mr. van de Kamp said. "I'm alright. Dr. Scully's 
patched me up well." 

Liam's feet prickled when he stood on them, but the 
opportunity to move about was a relief. There was only 
one place to go. He hobbled outside. 

He found the doctor pacing between the car and the 
cabin, literally worrying a path through the tall 
grass. The murmur of voices drifted from the cabin, low 
but distinct. Dr. Scully had probably listened to their 
entire conversation without even trying to eavesdrop. 

"Dr. Scully?" 

She turned on a smile for him. In spite of everything, 
her happiness was genuine. Coming from someone else, 
the smile would have seemed like condescension. 

Liam wasn't stupid. He knew Suzie Craddock's trip to 
Disney World would sound like a boring trip to the 
Kemmerer museum compared to the excitement he was 
having. 

And, because he wasn't stupid, he knew this was the 
kind of fun his parents didn't appreciate. He had seen 
things he shouldn't have. 

Maybe normal adults would be downplaying it - or 
putting on a sunny face to convince him everything was 
okay. 

But Dr. Scully wasn't most adults. Although she might 
not always tell them everything - and the left-out bits 
seemed important - Liam had the feeling the doctor was 
trying to be honest with his family; she wouldn't 
pretend the situation wasn't dangerous. 

Liam was grateful for her happiness. Seeing her 
genuinely happy was more reassuring than weapons or 
getaway cars. Still, like so many things about the 
doctor, her joy at seeing him was unnerving. As lovable 
as he was, he knew he wasn't *that* lovable. 

"What is it, Liam?" 

Whatever her worries had been moments ago, she brushed 
them aside while she talked to him. 

They had come a long way since the nasty scene in the 
living room at the house in Wamsutter. When she leaned 
against the car, arms crossed, he joined her, mirroring 
her pose. 

He couldn't be angry with her for shooting his dad. 
She'd had her reasons. And when his mother had frozen 
in front of the supersoldiers, she'd been there, too, 
helping Liam push Mrs. van de Kamp into the car. 

"Dad's not really angry." 

The happy expression vanished - not the reaction he was 
expecting. 

"What I mean is, he's not very happy you shot him, but 
he doesn't blame you ... probably." 

The doctor tapped a finger against her chin. 

"I see," she said. "Well, he should." 

Liam tried to protest. 

"No, Liam. I *am* sorry I shot your dad. It was a 
foolish thing to do. I could have killed him." "Then 
why did you do it?" Liam asked. Not for the first time 
today he found himself frustrated with grownups. 

"Because the alternative would have been worse," she 
said. "I lost my father - it doesn't matter how old you 
are - it hurts. I wouldn't want that for you. If I 
hadn't stopped him, there'd have been no way to save 
him. I'm sorry." 

"He'd be dead." He wanted her to know he understood. 

"Or as good as." 

"Your dad - he didn't - it wasn't supersoldiers, was 
it?" 

"Supersoldiers? Dad? Oh, gosh, no. No, that was long 
before ... my dad had a heart attack." 

"I'm sorry," he said, awkwardly patting her on the arm. 

"So am I, Liam. So am I." 

"Dr. Scully? Is Mr. Mulder ...?" 

Her hand plucked at the cross on the chain around her 
neck. 

Liam tried again. "How will Mr. Mulder find us?" 

Her smile was sad as she rubbed the cross. "If you ever 
get lost, Liam, Mulder will always know where to find 
you. I don't know how he does it, but he does - always. 
I'm not going to worry - not yet. I refuse to." 

She jumped when the now familiar buzz of the cellphone 
rang from her pocket. The sound carried; everyone's 
ears must have been attuned to it. Liam's mother 
appeared in the doorway of the cabin. 

Dr. Scully checked the message. 

"I need to talk to your parents and Mr. de Rosier." 

Together they headed back to the cabin. 

For once no one needed to cajole the doctor into 
talking. 

"We have to leave." She put a calming hand up. "We're 
not being followed, but it's only a matter of time. The 
sooner we leave, the harder it is for them to find us." 

She looked at Mr. de Rosier. "We need to follow the 
track further into the valley and leave by another 
route which branches off north-west." 

Mr. de Rosier scratched his head. "Swindlers Pass. It'll 
be a challenge - the track may be washed out - but we 
should be able to make it." 

"There's a town called Atlantic City not far off on the 
other side," Dr. Scully said. "We're supposed to wait 
there." 

"For what?" 

Her upbeat tone flagged. "I don't know." 

"Dr. Scully?" Mr. de Rosier hesitated. "Any word on Agent 
Mulder?" 

"Nothing yet," she said breezily. 

The longer Mr. de Rosier stared at her, the paler she 
went, until the smile vanished from her face and she 
bit her lip. "Whoever is sending these texts doesn't 
know Mulder is not with us." 

She sighed. "The message I just got - it was addressed 
to 'M.' Whoever sent it can't know about Mulder."