XxXxXxXxXxX Chapter Eleven XxXxXxXxXxX The mountains came to life in Mulder's lap, all paper bumps and awkward creases as he wrestled the large map within the confines of the front seat. He smoothed it out with damp palms. Beside him, Grenier gripped the steering wheel. "Where exactly do you want me to go?" he asked. "Up. Just up for now." Mulder turned the map ninety degrees. "You've got the choppers in the air already?" "Four of them. But the Angeles Forest and San Bernadino Mountains cover a lot of territory." "I know. I know. I can see that." Blown up enough to capture every major trail, the wild sections of southern California stretched from Mulder's chest to the very edge of the dashboard. Grenier's cell phone rang from underneath the paper, and he burrowed beneath to grab it. "Grenier. Yeah, we're headed north on 150 still. We're going to..." He looked over at Mulder. "Where are we going?" "We're headed for 33," Mulder said. "We're gonna take 150 to 33, into the mountains," Grenier said. "We've got Arkin coordinating over in the San Gabriel peaks. Yeah. Yeah. How the fuck should I know? I'm just driving up, like Mulder said! Mulder..." Mulder's head snapped up. "What?" "Nesbith wants to know if he should bring his men up here, and if so, where they should go." "Yes, bring his men. Bring as many as possible." "Bring all you've got," Grenier said grimly. "I don't know. Divide up and start looking, I guess. Yeah, okay. Radio us when you get here." He hung up and put the phone back on the seat between them. "You better be sure about this." "I'm sure." "We're putting all of our resources in this one area. If he's in Utah, or some other goddamned mountain range--" "I'm sure!" Mulder shoved aside the map. "Quentin is a ritualistic killer in the strictest sense of the word. The mountains worked well for him for over eleven years in Virginia. There's no way he wouldn't recreate that here." Grenier's jaw tightened. "He's branched out before. Killing Carolyn Kraus and setting up the body to look like Scully. Grabbing Amelia. He didn't take those women for their shoes." Mulder wiped the sweat off the back of his neck. "No, he didn't. But near as we can tell from her skeleton, Carolyn Kraus died the same way as the others. And he kept the toes." "Dammit, Mulder!" "What? What the hell do you want me to say? That I might be wrong? Is that what you need, Adam? After all these fucking years, do you still need me to say that?" "God forbid you should ever be wrong!" "I've been wrong! I've been wrong a hundred times over, and we've got the victims to prove it. In case you hadn't noticed, I've been chasing Quentin just as long as you have, and I'm not any closer to catching him. Happy now? Will that do it? I was wrong!" He broke off, breathing hard, and sat back in his seat. "But I'm not wrong about this. He's here in the mountains." Grenier fell silent. For a long time, the only sound was the roar of the car engine. "If you're right," he said at last, "if you're right that he would never break his ritual, then Amelia is dead." Mulder closed his eyes. "Yes." "And so is Scully." XxXxXxX Scully dug her nails into the pale flesh of Amelia's arm. Her free hand still clutched the large knife. "Stay with me now. You've got to stay awake." Propped in the shade against a large rock, Amelia licked her raw, swollen lips. "I can't move," she whispered. "You should go." Scully ignored her, instead casting around for some place to hide. In the distance, Carl's chopping sounds had slowed. "He's getting tired," Scully said. "But still going." Scully stood up, her knees cracking. She shielded her eyes and scanned the craggy landscape. "He'll be expecting us to continue down the mountain. If we can make it up and behind those boulders, we might be able to lose him." Amelia pressed her palms in the dirt, the tendons on her neck standing out as she tried to drag herself around the rock to see the area Scully was indicating. The narrow path up was almost completely vertical. "I'd never make that." "You have to at least try." "Dana. I can't move my feet at all." Scully let out a frustrated breath, feeling her options slipping away. The sound of splintering wood continued to echo across the canyon. "I'll carry you." Amelia's ashen face showed a trace of a smile. "I weigh one hundred and fifty pounds, and your shoulder is injured. We'd fall and break both our necks." "Amelia..." "Here's how I see it." The other woman struggled to remain upright. "Prop me in plain sight somewhere. Let him come. You've got the knife, and you can hide nearby. When he gets close, you can stab him and hopefully he'll drop the gun." Scully visualized the plan, her fingers tightening on the knife. She imagined thrusting it into his kidneys. "He could shoot you from twenty feet away," she said to Amelia. "We already know he's not a bad shot." Amelia's lids slid closed. "Then you'll just have to leave me. Hope for the best." More chopping. Deep thwacks that sounded like he was making good progress. Scully brushed the sticky hair from her face and frowned. "I'll go scout out a place." XxXxXxX Grenier radioed the small caravan of squad cars that had followed them into the mountains. "He's likely to have stashed his Buick along this road somewhere, so keep your eyes out for it." Mulder had the map out again, squinting as the glare from the windshield reflected harsh white light into his eyes. "Who was your contact with the forest rangers?" "Steve Gunther. I talked to him last night. Why?" "I'd like to try to narrow down this haystack." Mulder fished out his cell phone. "Yeah, get me the number for Steve Gunther with the Forest Ranger Association. Thanks." A minute later, he had Gunther on the line. "Mr. Gunther, this is Fox Mulder of the FBI. I was wondering if you could answer some questions for me about the way you patrol the ranges around here?" "Whatever I can do to help." "You have stations set up at various point along the trails, correct?" "The major trails each have one, yes." "What I'm most interested in..." He clamped on hand down on the side of the car as Grenier took a tight turn at high speed. "...is whether you have any older stations that are no longer used." "Hmmm. I've been with the service for going on twenty years now, and we haven't closed a single station in that time. Let me check with Gil. He's been here even longer than me." Mulder heard the muffled question. "Gil, you know of any older ranger stations around here that have been closed down or whatnot?" As Mulder waited, a the car radio crackled to life. "Unit 110, this is unit 212. We may have something back here." Grenier pulled to the side of the road and screeched the car to a halt in the dirt. "What's up?" "Bryan's spotted tired tracks back here, sir. They go off road. It could be nothing, but..." "We're on it." Grenier slammed the car into reverse. "Agent Mulder?" Gunther's voice came back on the line. "Gil and I did some checking, and we have one station that was closed in 1972. We had thirteen hiker die in two years, so that trail was shut down from the public, and we no longer needed the cabin." "What happened to it?" Mulder asked as Grenier stopped where the other car had pulled off the road. Grenier scrambled out, leaving the car door hanging open. "It's boarded up as far as I know." "Mulder!" Grenier waved to him from behind some tall, brittle grass. "This is it!" Mulder turned away, concentrating on the phone. "I need you to give me exact directions to that cabin." XxXxXxX Scully half-carried, half-dragged Amelia to sit in the shade of a looming boulder. "S'good," Amelia murmured, rubbing her eyes like a tired child. "He'll see me for sure." "And I should be able to see him coming," Scully said, resting for a moment. Her arms ached, and she felt her pulse flutter in her neck like a hummingbird. She kept her fingers curled around the handle of the knife. Amelia placed a heavy hand on her stomach. "At least we'll have tried." "Yeah," Scully answered, her eyes watering. "We tried." Carl had paused in his chopping while they moved, and Scully wondered if he had heard them. He was back at it now, the blade hitting the tree with renewed force. "I guess all we can do is wait," Amelia said. "Should be any minute now." "He needs a big tree to hold him across twenty feet," Scully answered. "It will have to fall just right or he won't make it." "Wait, what's that?" Amelia sat up a bit, her eyes going wide. "You hear that?" It was a helicopter buzzing overhead. Scully squinted up at it. "It's from the LAPD," she said. "They must be looking for us!" The chopping stopped. "Oh, thank God!" Amelia fell back. "Thank you, thank you." Scully ran into the nearest clearing and waved both arms, but the chopper didn't seem to notice. "Hey!" she yelled. "We're down here. Help!" It flew past and disappeared behind another mountain. Scully let her arms fall. She waited a few more minutes, but the helicopter did not return. Carl resumed hacking. Back at the boulder, Scully found Amelia with her face twisted, trying not to cry. "What happened?" Amelia whispered. "Why didn't they stop?" "They have to fly pretty high up to avoid the mountain peaks," Scully returned. "And the sun creates quite a glare. I don't think they saw us." "But they'll be back." "Maybe." "A fire! We should start a fire." Scully looked around at the dried brush and loose stones. "Could work." She set about gathering the materials. XxXxXxX "This way is faster. I checked the map." Mulder paused to roll up his sleeves. Loose pebbles slipped down the path behind him, causing Grenier to stumble and curse. "I bet you anything that Quentin's taken over that cabin." "The chopper tried to do a fly-by, but it was inaccessible." Grenier's short-wave radio squawked. "Yeah, what?" he barked, wiping sweat from his forehead. Mulder climbed further up, bracing his hand on the sun-warmed rock. He reached a small ledge and turned to wait for Grenier. "They've found the car!" Grenier called. "It's about four miles from here, back near the road." "Then we're close. We've got to keep going." Grenier said something into the radio that Mulder didn't catch. Overhead, one of the choppers stirred the air, bending the tree branches. Mulder unstuck his shirt from his ribs and began hiking up the mountain again. A moment later, he heard Grenier huffing behind him. "There's three teams with the car. They're going to spread out and do a grid search from there." Mulder said nothing, saving his strength for the brutal climb. The smooth soles of his shoes slipped on the rock. "Careful," Grenier said. "I don't want to have to haul your ass out of here." Mulder leaned against a bulky rock to catch his breath. The sun stung his eyes. "Shoulda brought sunglasses," he muttered. "And water." There were dark rings of sweat on Grenier's pale blue shirt. "C'mon," Mulder said, pushing ahead, but Grenier froze. "What's that?" Mulder stopped and listened. "What?" Grenier waited, his head tilted. A distant sound floated to them on a breeze. "That." "I don't know," Mulder said, climbing up one rock higher for a better view. The sound was faint and repetitive. "Sounds like...like someone chopping wood." XxXxXxX Scully sat with Amelia, her back propped against the rock as she hunched over and tried to ignite the fluffy tangle of dried grass with a stick and a stone. Her furious rubbing brought no success. The smell of burnt wood tinged the air, but not one tendril of smoke arose from the pile in front of her. She cursed as the stone slipped and she wound up with several deep splinters in the side of her hand. "Let me take a turn," Amelia said, reaching for the stick. Scully took in her wan face and limp arms and shook her head. "No, I've got it." Grimacing, she doubled her efforts to create a spark. She could hear the distant blades of the helicopter still audible over Carl's axe. Amelia waved away a dragonfly. "It sounds like the tree must be ready to fall," she said. "You should get going." "Just...a minute." Her knees in the dirt, she tried a different angle on the rock. The stone burned in her hands. Almost. Almost. But Carl had reached his final chop. The tree fell with a tremendous crash, cracking branches and rustling leaves as it landed on the ground. "Go, go," Amelia urged. She grabbed the rock and the stick. "I'll keep trying." Scully seized the knife again and stood. Amelia squeezed her ankle. "Be careful." With a nod, Scully crept along the path a little ways and then tucked herself into the thick bushes. She crouched down to wait. XxXxXxX "It came from just over there! It's got to be him!" Mulder used whichever limb was available first as he scrambled down the mountain, arms and legs akimbo. Grenier followed close behind him. "Sounded like a tree fell. What the fuck's he up to?" "Don't know." Mulder grabbed for a thin tree trunk to halt his fall. At least, he thought, if Carl was chopping trees, he wasn't chopping toes. "There!" Grenier froze, and Mulder stopped where he was on the narrow ledge. "It's Quentin!" "Where? I can't see." Mulder inched along, the rock digging into his back. The trees blocked his view. "Down there. He's got an axe, and it does look like he chopped the tree." "Do you have a clear shot?" "Fuck. No. He's about two hundred yards away, and there's trees -- shit, duck!" Mulder slid down to his knees. "What?" Above him, Grenier was panting. "He looked this way." "He make you?" "Wait...no, I don't think so." "What about Scully and Russell?" There was a pause as Grenier scanned the horizon. "I don't see them. Shit, he's on the move." "Then let's get out of here." Mulder stood and resumed his climb downwards, faster now that Carl was in reach. The path grew steeper and more wooded. Mulder's left foot skidded around a particularly sharp turn. "I can't see him anymore," Grenier breathed. "Faster," Mulder answered. Branches clawed at his arms. "Let me radio our position. Get back up." "Yeah, yeah." Mulder did not slow down. He was running almost blindly now, with the leaves slapping against his face. He heard the gun cocking before he saw it. Then he felt the barrel press against his temple. "Drop your weapon." Quentin's face emerged from the branches. "Mulder!" Grenier called, and a gunshot exploded in Mulder's ear. Grenier slumped into the bushes behind him. Carl had the gun pressed against Mulder's head again before Mulder could even process what had happened. "Left hand, real slow," Carl said. "Remove your gun." Mulder did as he asked. "Where's Scully?" Carl gave a bark of laughter that flung spittle on his chin. He licked it off. "You always seem to show up at the good parts, don't you, Mulder? All right, then. Let's go get the little bitch." He shoved Mulder forward. "She's alive," Mulder blurted. Relief made him weak, and he stumbled on the path. Carl jabbed him between the shoulder blades with the gun barrel. "Shut the fuck up and keep going." But the word hummed in Mulder's brain: alive, alive, alive. They kept a brisk pace through the trees and down the mountainside, but Carl was never far behind. Mulder knew that one false move would mean a bullet in the head. He kept one ear cocked for Grenier, hoping the other man hadn't been badly injured, but Carl's harsh breathing and heavy footsteps were the only sounds he heard. When they reached a clearing, Mulder understood the purpose of the downed tree: it was a makeshift bridge. "Scully," he murmured, realizing she must be on the other side. Carl pushed him closer to the edge of the canyon. "I bet she'll be real cooperative now," he said. Mulder felt the smooth steel circle press against his temple once more. "Agent Scully!" Carl yelled. "I've got someone here who wants to talk to you." He pushed hard with the gun, and Mulder's head bent sideways. "Talk." Mulder swallowed with difficulty. The search teams had to be close. Maybe they had even heard the gunshot. "Scully! Don't listen to him. Just get as far away as you can!" "That's enough," Carl snarled. "I've got the tree down, you know! Either you come to me or I come to you. But if you make me come over there, I'll be sure to decorate the ground with Mulder's brains first." They waited, Mulder's heart thudding against his throat, and Scully appeared across the canyon. "No!" Mulder shouted. Carl hit him with the gun. "I said shut up." He hitched up his pants with his free hand. "That's right, princess. You come over here." Desperate, Mulder tried again. "No, Scully! He's scared to cross or he would have done it already. Stay the--" The next blow knocked him into the dirt, coughing and sputtering. He tasted blood on his lip. Carl's boot came down hard on his lower back, pinning him to the ground. "I'm waiting!" he yelled across to Scully. "I'll blow him to pieces. Don't think I won't." Mulder saw Scully take a few steps closer to the tree trunk. No, no, no. His chin scraped in the dust as he searched around for something, anything, to get free. There. Four feet away. It was the axe. XxXxXxX The axe. She could tell the minute he'd seen it. He shifted on the ground, bringing his hand out from under his body. No way you can reach that, Mulder. She took another tentative step toward the tree that spread across the yawning canyon. Mulder stretched out his arm, but the axe remained just out of reach. So close. She squeezed her eyes shut, her hand clenching reflexively around the knife. "Let's see a little hustle there," Carl said with a sneer. "Let him up," Scully said. "Then I'll cross." Carl's eyes narrowed. "Baby, you're not the one calling the shots here. Now move." He's afraid, Mulder had said. He's afraid to cross. Scully swallowed the lump in her throat. "No." "God dammit! Get over here or I'll blow his brains out!" "You'll do that anyway." She was glad her voice wasn't shaking. The knife trembled in her hand. Carl glared at her for a long moment. She could see his chest rising with the force of his breath. Then he shrugged. "Suit yourself." He swung the gun back around to point at Mulder's head. "Wait!" Her voice did quaver this time. "I'm...I'm coming." She put one foot up on the tree to illustrate. "Tick, tick," Carl warned. "Time's a-wasting." Don't look down, don't look down. She put her second foot up on the tree, balancing as best she could on the cylindrical surface. At least it was heavy enough so that it didn't roll. Tree branches poked at her from all angles. She grabbed the nearest one to steady herself. "Any day now!" Carl yelled. She focused forward, on Mulder, as she put one shaking foot in front of the other. Carl gave her a grin filled with anticipation. "That's right. Keep coming." When she got halfway out, he ordered her to stop. "Now lose the knife." Scully kept her free hand on a branch and released her grip with the other, and the knife began a free fall down onto the rocks. She stood stock still. Mulder, she could see, was still reaching for the axe. His wrist twisted at all angles, but he was about six inches shy of the handle. A distraction, Scully thought. Quick, anything. "Move," Carl commanded, waving the gun at her. "Be quick about it." "I..." Her throat went completely dry. "I'll fall. I need..." Anything! Think! "I need traction." Carefully, she lowered herself into a crouch on the tree trunk. "What the fuck are you doing?" "Wait," she whispered. All those years of playing balance beam in the backyard came back to her as she placed her hands on the rough bark. She edged out one leg, then the other, until she was siting full on the log. "Shit, do you *want* me to shoot him?" Scully ignored him and used her right foot to push off her left shoe. It fell down into the canyon. "It's easier without shoes," she said, not daring to look at Carl. But she noticed the threats had stopped. Barely breathing, she repeated the process with her left foot. By bringing her leg into her lap, she managed to remove the thin sock as well. Soon she was wiggling ten naked toes in the open air. Please let this work. Please. "Much better," she said hoarsely. She glanced at Carl, who was watching her with rapt attention, his eyes wide in his dirty, unshaven face. The arm holding the gun had sagged. Scully swung around to straddle the tree, then drew one foot up in front of her. "Now if I can just..." She waggled all of her toes at him. "Please," Carl said. "Hurry." "I'm trying. Mmmm...this feels so nice on my bare feet. Rough, almost tickling." Carl opened and closed his mouth twice in quick succession. He leaned forward towards the tree. "C'mon, c'mon." It was enough. His foothold on Mulder loosened, and Mulder grabbed the axe. With a sharp twist, he swung it around and caught Carl across the back of the shin. Carl screamed and fell forward. "Mulder," she said, unable to do anything but watch helpless from the tree. Mulder used the axe to brace himself and rose to his feet. Still howling, Carl got off one shot as he rolled in the dirt. It sailed past Mulder and into the brush. "You sonofabitch!" Mulder raised the axe over his head again, casting a long, thin shadow over Carl's face. "No!" Carl rolled away just as Mulder started the downward blow. Mulder stepped forward to try again, and Carl rolled over the edge. Scully closed her eyes, bathed in total blackness as she heard the long scream disappear down below. When she opened them again, she saw Mulder leaning on the axe, staring down into the canyon. She inched forward about two feet and dared to follow his gaze. Carl lay on a ledge, his arm bent at such an sharp angle that Scully knew it was broken. His left leg twitched. "He's alive," she murmured, scooting further along the tree trunk. "Yes." Mulder looked up and extended his hand. She reached out, and he gripped her with a strength that was almost painful. "And so are you." XxXxXxX End Chapter Eleven. Continued in Chapter Twelve. Many thanks to Alicia and bugs, who ought to be co-owners of Speedy Betas R Us. This chapter is stronger for your input. All feedback is welcome at syn_tax6@yahoo.com