Genesis
Ally

Chapter 25

12:43 a.m.

The darkness inside the old building closed in on Mulder like a curtain, all encompassing and thick, his torch seemed to barely cut through it, and he realised with a sinking feeling of dread that the beam was wavering.

He shook it angrily, and was gratified when the light turned from yellow to white again. A loose connection, that was all.

Carefully, he angled the torch slightly in a downward direction to ensure the connections touched. It narrowed his field of vision somewhat, but he reasoned that limited light was preferable to none at all.

His head pounded, and he allowed himself a moment to get his bearings. His excellent memory would normally have allowed him to find where he wanted to be with no problem, but he had been feverish and weak during his last journey here, and he had to draw from deep within him in order to get any kind of direction.

He started down the long corridor, even now uncertain as to whether he was heading the right way, but trusting his instincts. He would have felt better to have Skinner by his side, but had now arrived at the conclusion that he was on his own, for better or worse.

Occasionally he paused at one of the many doors that lined the corridor and shone the torch through the square of observation glass that adorned each one. He did it more out of a need for thoroughness than out of hope that Scully was held captive behind one of them. He was pretty sure where, if anywhere, his partner would be held, and remembering the chill, damp air that had seemed to invade the abandoned wing of the old building, a shudder worked its way down his back.

Mulder turned away from the glass and realised that he was almost at the end of the corridor. If he remembered correctly, the corridor would end with a door on the left-hand side which led in to the older part of the building where they had found Christine Stevens. The corridor was rapidly running out and for a panicky second, Mulder was sure that he had come the wrong way, and then there it was just ahead of him.

Mulder narrowed his eyes against the glare of the torch light, and for an instant wondered if what he saw was simply his eyes playing tricks on him, an after glare from the torch hitting the white paint, but as he got closer he realised that a white line of light spilled out from beneath the closed door. He closed his eyes, knowing suddenly that his hunch had been correct, and that Scully was here.

He could feel her presence, as though she were by his side. Although he knew that his partner would no doubt find a rational explanation for what he was feeling, Mulder held on to the thought, knowing somehow that it might be the only thing to get him through this.

He switched the torch off, knowing that he wouldn't need it once he had stepped out in to the light, and he eased it back in to the pocket of his jacket. He substituted it with his handgun, holding the weapon tightly, unaware of what might be waiting for him on the other side of the door.

He tensed as he stepped in to the light, allowing himself to breathe again as his eyes registered nothing but another long corridor, almost identical in design and layout to the one before it. Doors lined it and Mulder was painfully aware that any number of unknown dangers could lurk behind them. His eyes scanned the corridor and a quick calculation inside his aching head told him that there were at least forty of them. Forty possibilities. Six bullets. The odds weren't great.

He shook his head in an effort to clear it and forced himself to get moving, knowing that for every second he stood there that the odds were shortening even further, that he was no doubt being monitored and that he was now in plain sight. Nowhere to hide. Nowhere to run. All he could do was to move forward and he did so, slowly at first, checking each of the doors, opening those that were not locked, his pace and urgency intensifying as door after door revealed nothing more remarkable than empty space. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead, a combination of the slight fever he still ran and the numbing thought that somehow he might have been wrong. His heart hammered against his chest as the adrenaline pulsed through his body, causing his breath to come in short sharp gasps, making his head swim even worse than it already was.

Distractedly he ran a hand through his hair as he crossed the corridor to the next door. He opened it slowly expecting to see nothing but bare floors and walls.

His jaw dropped though as realisation seeped through him, and for a few seconds he was rooted to the spot, unable to enter for fear of a trap of some kind, waiting to snare him, to put an end to his search.

The indecision lasted only a heartbeat though, as his feet moved him forwards, almost against his will and he found himself staring straight at the familiar face of his partner.

12:54 am

The hand that dropped suddenly on Byers' shoulder almost caused him to drop the walkie-talkie that he was holding tightly. Such was his absolute terror at being left in this situation by Mulder.

He breathed again though when he allowed himself to look up at his aggressor, who was no other than Assistant Director Skinner. They had met only briefly but Skinner immediately recognised him and his eyes narrowed as he realised that he was alone.

"Where's Mulder?"

Byers swallowed nervously at his harsh tone.

"He went in alone. He waited for you, though. I guess he thought you weren't coming."

Skinner sighed heavily.

"I was at the hospital. I had to drive halfway across town to get here."

He glanced around the darkened parking lot.

"Which way did he go?"

Byers waved his hand vaguely to the right, toward an almost invisible alleyway that ran through the centre of the imposing building. As he did so, Skinner caught sight of the radio held tightly in his grasp. He raised his eyebrows.

"Does that thing work?"

Byers nodded, but held back as Skinner reached across for it.

"What if someone hears it? Maybe we should wait for him to contact us."

"The hell we will," Skinner countered harshly, "Mulder forwent any sort of bargaining the minute he stepped in there alone. Now give me the radio."

Byers hesitated for just a beat, but the expression on Skinner's face did not encourage argument, and he reluctantly surrendered it to the older man, watching as he depressed the speak button, watching the frown that furrowed Skinner's brow as seconds passed and his call went unanswered.

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