by: Margaret

The General Lee left the Dukes’ barn with a dirt-flying screech, and at the sudden
movement, Langely, Frohike, Byrnes, and Skinner were all thrown against the back seat.
Mulder crouched forward, close to the dashboard, while Bo made sure his boot smashed
to the floor.
“How much time do we have?” Fox barked.
Langely gripped the edge of his seat and shakily looked at his watch. Bo brought the
car
off the cross-country clearance and bounced it onto the dirt road, and Langely clutched
his chair with two hands and closed his eyes tight. “NO JUMPING!” he nervously
pleaded. “Don’t do anything crazy! My stomach can’t take it!”
“Langely, get over it!” Mulder yelled. “We have more important things to worry about!
How much time do we have?”
Langely shakily leaned into the front seat and stuck his wristwatch in Fox’s face.
Mulder
glanced at the time and his eyes grew large. He looked at Bo and was about to tell him
the time.
“Don’t tell me!” Bo yelled, cutting his friend off. “I don’t want to know!” The young
farmer leaned forward in his seat and struggled to think of the shortest path to the factory.
He sped the car through a maze of off-road and on-road paths, until the racer finally
crossed the Osage border.

Mulder noticed the change in scenery immediately. The green hue to the sky turned
pea
soup thick, and the light that barely shone through in Hazzard was quickly cut in half.
There were no longer any people in the area, and Mulder guessed that their departure had
happened some time ago. The grass and trees were dead. The crops had withered and
turned to dust. Animals wandered the roads in lost, scared disorientation, and the further
in Bo brought them, the worse the land around them became.
Finally, from a high cliff, Fox saw what looked like an abandoned factory resting in
the
valley below. He quickly nudged Bo in the shoulder.
“Is that it?” he asked. “Is that the dog food factory?”
Bo nodded, not slowing down one bit. “Yeah, and I’m just gonna drive right through
the front door!”
“NO!” Mulder yelled. “Stop the car! Stop the General right now!”
Bo gave a confused look to his friend.
“Just do it!” Mulder insisted.
The young farmer obeyed and hesitantly brought the car to a standstill on top of the
hill. Mulder turned to his superior officer in the back seat.
“Sir? Do you have a pair of binoculars on you?”
Skinner dug into his suit, and from right beside his official ID he pulled out a pair of
opera scopes. Mulder grabbed them and immediately wiggled out of the car. The
Gunmen and Bo followed behind while Fox walked to the edge of the cliff and studied
the structure below.
During the drive, he had guessed that the abandoned food factory had been modified.
The Secret Society was a skittish lot, and they wouldn’t have set up headquarters without
some fancy security features being thrown into the pot. When he brought the binoculars
up to his eyes, he found out to his dismay that he’d been right. A chain-link fence covered
the area, and on it was a red-painted warning on a large white sign stating that electricity
fortified the barrier. The warehouse itself, however, looked empty. Mulder wondered
under his breath if Patricia was still inside that fort at all.
Then he saw something that took all doubt away. On the fourth floor, through a barred
but open window, puffs of green clouds steamed out like fog. Mulder adjusted the focus
on the lens and found that his eyes did not lie. The green clouds were actually being
manufactured there! Which meant Patricia had to be in that room! He smiled in triumph,
and as he took a quick look around to see if anything else interesting was in the area, his
smile instantly faded.
Movement from around the corner danced in front of the lenses, and pretty soon a
platoon of more of those mud soldiers marched in unison from around the corner. The
spies didn’t even need the binoculars to see these giant monsters. Bo took a couple of
unsteady steps backwards, shivering visibly. Langely, Byrnes, and Frohike leaned
forward and tried to get a good look at the inhuman army marching around the perimeter
of the compound.
“What in the world is that?” Langely asked.
Mulder straightened back up and handed the specs back to Skinner. “Trouble!
Big-time
trouble!”
“What are they doing?” Byrnes asked.
“Guarding the place,” Fox replied as he mentally struggled to handle this new
complication. “The Congressman said that the factory and this county were alive with
nightmares and monsters. If Patricia is inside there, and I think she is, then every floor in
that building has an ugly surprise waiting for anyone who enters inside.” He turned to Bo.
“I don’t think ramming into the building with the General is going to work. Not only will
those mud monsters shred your car to pieces, but they’ll also chase us through every room
in that place!”
Bo nervously fidgeted. “Well then, what do we do?”
“I think I also see another problem!” Frohike voiced. The group made their way to the
man’s side while he pointed at four large metallic boxes in each corner behind the fence.
“You see those bad boys? That’s a laser defense system! You cross the path of those
things, and you’ll for sure trip up the alarms. The mud soldiers down there will spot you
in a second!”
Skinner shook his head. “Okay, that’s it, gentlemen! We are NOT going through with
this plan!”
Mulder shot straight up at the statement. “We have to, sir!” he protested. “There’s a
child in that building! We can’t just leave her there!”
“You have a death wish, Agent Mulder?” Skinner glanced at his watch. “We have 25
minutes until a bunch of planes drop some very big bombs in this area! You don’t have
the time!”
Mulder crossed his arms and scowled. “I’m going in!” he said flatly.
“Oh, no, you’re not!” Skinner insisted. “I’m giving you a direct order to leave this!”
“I’m on vacation!” Mulder snapped. “This is my free time, and you can’t order me what
to do with my time, SIR!”
Skinner gritted his teeth at the rebellious statement. He wanted to hit the bullheaded
agent and knock some sense into his thick skull. But he looked at Bo, and saw that the
young farmer stood steadfastly next to his friend. The Gunmen did the same, and it soon
became clear to see that all the men were going to back Mulder up to the end. The
director shook his head. Mulder was spending way too much time with the Dukes. The
ex-ridgerunners’ stubbornness was rubbing off on him. “Okay, Mulder. What’s your
plan?” he said with a tone that showed that he was afraid to even ask the question.
Mulder took a deep breath. “You and Byrnes need to shut down the power to that
building. Find out where the electricity cables are and cut them. That should turn the
electrical fence off. Langely, I need you to get those mud soldiers’ attention. I need you to
distract them a few seconds before the electricity shuts down. That should buy me
enough time to sneak into building, shut the door so that the soldiers can’t get inside the
factory, and find Patricia. If my hunch is correct, she’s on the fourth floor of this building.
Frohike!” Mulder leaned over and reached for the man’s belt. He grabbed a pager from
his friend’s carrying case and dropped it into his shirt pocket. “You keep an eye on the
skies. If you see any signs of those bombers, you page me with your cell phone!”
“And how are ya going to get out?” Skinner asked.
Mulder nervously fidgeted. “I… uh… haven’t quite figured that part out yet.”
“You’re kidding!”
“No.”
“That stinks, Mulder!”
“Well, it’s the best I can do on short notice!” Fox sarcastically snapped. “I’ll just figure
it
out as I go.”
“And what about me?” Bo asked, breaking into the argument. “I’m going with you,
right?”
Mulder authoritatively shook his head. “No. It’s too dangerous.”
Bo’s eyebrow raised. “I’m going with you, Fox Mulder.” What the young farmer said
was a statement, not a question, and it was filled with a Duke stubbornness that Mulder
knew could not be reasoned with. “I’m going with you, or I’m going in that factory alone!”
Fox sighed. “You’re coming with me.”

**

They made their way down the hill, making sure to stay hidden among the trees.
When
the vegetation ended, they crawled military style on their stomachs and elbows through
the tall prairie grass. It was approximately one block until they hit the security fence. Bo
snuggled close to the ground, afraid that his yellow hair would be seen in the contrasting
green grass. As he gazed through the wires at the roving mud soldiers, he realized that the
situation was actually a lot worse than what he’d seen in the distance on the mountaintop.
Here on the ground, the fence was taller ~ much taller. Plus, the space he and Fox
would have to sprint through was a lot wider. The small details that could not be seen in
the distance were now visible, and they were the ones that made the obstacle course more
dangerous. He realized he was running through a gauntlet, an ugly one, and he felt his
stomach twist as his adrenaline-soaked muscles went stiff.
Mulder crawled next to his side. The agent scanned the compound, and a look of
worry
that echoed Bo’s thoughts crossed his face. “Thirty seconds!” Mulder whispered as he
tried to drown out the whispers of doubt in his mind.
Oooh, this was a bad idea. All the holes of this plan were popping like firecrackers in
the young farmer’s mind. The soldiers ran in rank from around the corner. Their stone
footsteps drummed against the earth like Indian war drums. Their eyeless gazes stared
straight ahead into nowhere. Bo reeled back from the mesh metal barrier and crawled for
the thin cover of the grass. Mulder gripped the ground, ready to sprint for the fence.
“Fifteen seconds!” Fox counted.
Bo felt his heart knock hard against the earth. His breathing quickened as the puppet
army jogged across his face. Then, in the distance, the hum of a motorcycle sounded
through the night air! A spotlight pierced through the fence and into the compound. The
running mud soldiers froze in their tracks, and turned in unison to the intruder just
outside their gate. From a distance, Langley yelled into the air, signaling that the Gunmen
were in place.
“Ten seconds!” Mulder whispered.
Bo blocked Langely and the soldiers out of his line of sight. Like an Olympic sprinter
focusing on the finish line, he focused all his attention at the front door of the factory.
The mud soldiers flew into a rage at Langley’s taunting. The bodies of living earth
howled, broke rank, and raced after the long-haired hippie on the motorcycle.
“Three!”
Langley grabbed his handlebars and revved the engine. He spun the bike around, hit
the
gas and flew for the hills.
“Two!”
The monsters reached the perimeter on the far end of the compound.
“One!”
The lights suddenly went out! The soldiers froze in their tracks, and Bo and Fox leapt
to their feet and rushed for the chain link fence. The young blond jumped onto the barrier
and climbed it with the agility of a monkey. He reached the top bar, swung his legs over,
and dropped to the ground hard. The second his boots hit earth, the laser defenses went
off.
Red emergency lights swept over the compound, a loud siren shrilling into the air. Bo
almost jumped out of his skin at the violent sound and light show. The mud soldiers froze
in their tracks. They turned in unison to the new intruders, and in half a second raced
after them with the speed of a cheetah. Bo scrambled to his feet, looking for Mulder. Fox
was still struggling to reach the top of the fence.
“Come on, Fox!” Bo yelled. “NOW!”
Mulder swung his legs over the top barrier and fell to the earth on all fours. Impact
with
the ground sent shivers to his knees. Bo grabbed him by the neck of his T-shirt and
dragged him running to his feet. The agent glanced back and saw the soldiers quickly
closing the gap, and suddenly his own legs gained strength as they were flooded with
fear-inspired adrenaline.
Bo didn’t even dare to look! Focus on the door! Focus ONLY ON THE DOOR! He
reached the steps, jumped on them, and sprinted up the incline. Fox followed right
behind. The mud soldiers rounded the corner and leaped like flying fish onto the
stairwell. The farmer lunged for the front door, threw it open, and raced with Fox inside.
The soldiers hit the porch and charged for the knob. Bo whipped the door closed with his
left hand and threw the deadbolt into place with his right.
The force of three hundred pounds of rock rammed into the metal barrier. The door
dented almost in half, and the hinges loosed and started to give way. Earthen fists
pounded at the barrier, scratching and shredding the metal. Bo stood still in stupefied
shock. The soldiers were breaking through! They were actually breaking through! But
Mulder reacted quickly, grabbing the young Duke by the shoulders and shaking him out
of his daze. “Keep moving! Keep moving!”
The two men ran for the first room they could see ~ the cafeteria kitchen. Bo heard
the
front door give way behind him; the sound spurred him to greater speed. Rock boots
pounded across the floor. Mulder grabbed the kitchen door and slammed it shut behind
him.
The mud giants tore into the cafeteria kitchen after them… and then came to a quick
stop. The kitchen was empty. There wasn’t a man in sight. The usually emotionless
monsters suddenly took on the facial forms of confusion. They turned and ran out,
expecting that their enemies had somehow doubled back. They shut the door behind
them, and as they did the pale and out-of-breath images of Bo Duke and Fox Mulder
backed against the wall came into view.
The lawman almost collapsed to the floor. He couldn’t believe that the old “hiding
behind the door” trick had actually worked! “Well,” he said as he quietly tried to catch his
breath, “they may be strong, but they’re also stupid!”
“Thank God,” Bo whispered, his eyes still squeezed tightly shut.
The agent quietly cracked the door open about half an inch and cautiously peeked into
lounge. It was crawling with soldiers, and none of them were leaving the area. “We’re
going to have to find another way upstairs,” Mulder muttered.
“Air vent!” Bo suddenly pointed up. Fox looked up, and at the end of the room saw a
large air conditioner vent just big enough for a human body to crawl through. The young
farmer grabbed a mop that leaned idly next to the freezer unit, and using the handle’s end,
he punched at the metal filter that covered the gaping hole. The frame fell backwards and
clanged loud as it fell hard on the metal interior. Bo dropped his broom in stunned
disbelief at the ruckus he made.
Mulder jumped at the sound. “BO! THE MUD SOLDIERS!”
The agent ran back to the door and cracked it open. All the monsters in the adjoining
room had frozen at the strange sound. Fox immediately shut the door and flipped the
deadbolt.
“THEY’RE COMING!” he yelled.
Bo wanted to kick himself for his mistake. He had to get himself and Fox in the vent
now! In a move he’d watched many times on a basketball court, he backed up, ran, and
took a flying leap at the hole in the wall. He grabbed a firm hold of the ledge and did a
chin-up into the tunnel.
The soldiers ran to the door and grabbed the knob. When they found it locked, they
immediately fell into combat mode. One of the monsters rammed his fist into the metal
and forced his hand through. Mulder jumped as fingers popped through into the kitchen.
He watched in horror as a brown hand reached to undo the lock.
“FOX! GET UP HERE!” Bo turned around in the tunnel and stretched his hand out
toward Mulder. The lawman ran to the wall of the kitchen and grabbed the young
farmer’s wrist as if it were a lifeline. The soldiers broke through into the kitchen, literally
shredding the door into pieces. Bo grabbed Fox by the belt and hauled him into the
tunnel. The soldiers leapt for the vent entranceway, rammed into the wall, and crashed
ungracefully back to the floor. Their large, muscular shoulders and wide-built frames
made it impossible for them to fit into the tight hole. The monsters immediately jumped
to their feet, howling, pounding, and scraping at the wall in their desperation to go after
the escaping men.
Fox and Bo scurried into the darkness like two jackrabbits running from a coyote,
pulling themselves across the slick metal tunnel on their elbows. Distance was the key to
safety, and they ran blindly without any sense of direction. After a few seconds, Bo
realized that he and Mulder had successfully escaped. When he looked over his shoulder
and saw the path behind him empty, he let out a sigh of relief. He wormed his way
around a corner and then fell on his back, gasping to catch his breath. Mulder spread out
on his stomach and tried to stop himself from shaking, his shirt, wet with cold sweat,
clinging to the metal below him. He looked around and suddenly realized that the vent
split into several directions. Oh crap! Where were they supposed to go next? He was in a
maze and without a map! “Bo, where are we?” Fox asked with worry.
The young farmer rolled onto his chest and took a quick look around. A sinking feeling
hit him the moment that he saw several split paths in front of him. He was lost! “I don’t
know. I’m not sure.”
“What do you mean you’re not sure?!” Fox countered nervously.
“I mean I don’t spend a lot of time crawling around air ducts!”
Mulder glanced at his watch. “Bo, we can’t get lost in here! Do you know how much
time we have before those planes arrive? We only have-”
“DON’T TELL ME! I DON’T WANT TO KNOW!” Turning away, the young farmer
took a quick look around, whispered a quick prayer under his breath, and guessed at the
direction. With a military crawl, he scampered into a left tunnel. Mulder followed close
behind, afraid that he would lose his guide. The passageway grew darker; now the men
had to feel their way through the maze. The vent twisted and turned, and in the
pitch-black hole, Bo couldn’t tell if he was heading south or north. He swung a right
around a curve, and suddenly saw light! The large metal grid covering an open hole
signaled the entryway into a new room.
He scrambled up next to it and gave it a hard jab with his fist. The grid popped out
and
rattled as it crashed onto the hard tile floor. The two men ungracefully wiggled out of the
vent, and suddenly found themselves in a laboratory. Mulder rubbed his sore elbows as
he quickly studied his new environment. “Where are we now?”
From out of nowhere, a large object flew across the room and rammed into the back
of
Fox’s head. A metal stool hit the lawman like a large rock hurled from a slingshot. He
yelped at the blow, falling to his knees. His head spun wildly. The sharp pain
overwhelmed his senses and kept him paralyzed on the floor. Bo dove behind a desk as
the room sprang to life like an angry haunted house. An enraged invisible force tore
chairs, telephones, lamps, and test tubes off the desks and floors and launched them at
the two cowering men. The young blond curled into a ball and flinched as furniture
relentlessly battered into his ribs and back. “PATRICIA!” Bo yelled desperately into the
air. “PATRICIA, STOP THIS! PLEASE STOP THIS!”
She didn’t hear him, and the battering didn’t stop. The young farmer’s muscles went
both weak and numb at the beating. A burner hammered into his elbow. Empty drawers
rained down on his head. His body couldn’t take much more punishment! He had to get
Fox and himself out of this room right now! He crawled towards Mulder, who was on the
edge of blacking out. Flasks crashed into his side and shattered. A desk lamp launched
itself off a desk and smashed into his head. Bo’s elbows went weak at the blow. His ears
rang, and he suddenly tasted blood in his mouth. His head spun, threatening blackout.
He fought through the dizziness, crawling through the punishing gauntlet. He grabbed
Mulder by the wrist, dragged him across the floor, and headed for the exit. He kicked the
door open, and with a large swing of his arm slung his friend out of the room. The
lawman crashed into the hallway wall and fell face down on the floor. Bo shut and
locked the door behind him, and the new barrier successfully fended off the blows of
flying furniture.
Mulder winced and cradled his head, his body aching from the beating that had
showered on him. Bo leaned against the wall. His legs, weak with exhaustion and pain,
gave way, and he slid to the ground.
“Are… are you okay?” the young farmer whispered. He cradled his ribs; they ached
with every breath he took.
Mulder grunted. He was still dazed and aching fiercely at the pounding his head took.
“No!” he moaned. “But don’t let that stop us.” The agent staggered to his feet, then had to
lean against the wall to keep from falling down. “Where are we?” he weakly asked.
Bo slowly brought himself up onto his knees. “Second floor,” he said. And then
quickly
added, “I think.”
Mulder’s jaw dropped open. “Second floor? ONLY?” he glanced at his watch, and
almost couldn’t breathe. Fear-driven adrenaline knocked the pain in his head away. He
could almost HEAR the jets coming after them! “We’re running out of time!” he shouted
frantically. “We gotta keep moving! There’s gotta be another way to the fourth floor! An
easier way! THERE!”
He pointed to the window, where snugged close to the bricks was a fire escape. He ran
straight to it, and Bo followed right on his heels. The sky growled as the two men exited
the building. The winds picked up, and lightning blazed, threatening to strike both of
them down. The two men climbed and raced against the swelling storm that seemed bent
on building and then releasing its fury on them.
Mulder reached the fourth story window first. He hurdled over a stair rail, peered
inside, and… THERE! In the center of the auditorium, on top of a hospital bed slept a
little girl with long blonde hair! Patricia! “BO! he yelled back over his shoulder. SHE’S
HERE! SHE’S HERE!”
“Move!” Bo ordered. With that one word, the young farmer gave a sharp kick with the
heel of his boot, and the window broke into pieces. Mulder dove into the auditorium, Bo
again following at his heels. Both men darted down the stairs, onto the stage, and next to
the spotlighted bed. Mulder leaned over Patricia, ready to pick her up off the mattress,
when a sight next to the floor caught his eye and sent him stumbling backwards,
screaming.
On the floor next to the unconscious body was the astral projection of Patricia! In her
astral form, the child was wide awake, conscious, and coherent! She stared up at the two
men and cowered next to the gurney. Mulder rubbed his eyes, not believing that he could
SEE her. Patricia flinched and crawled away, scared stiff that so many people could
pinpoint her location. Bo immediately recognized the girl and ran to her side.
“Patricia!” he tried to get her attention. “Patricia! You have to stop using your psychic
powers! There are bad things outside! And those bad things are after us! You have to turn
your mind off, honey! You have to do it now!”
Patricia stared up at the farmer, her green eyes wide with fear. “I can’t!” she yelled,
tears starting to roll down her cheeks. “I’m trying but I can’t!”
Mulder gazed at his wristwatch. They didn’t have time for this! “Patricia! Listen to
me!
You have to go back to your body! You have to wake up! We need to get out of this
building, and we need to get out now!”
The child shook her head. “I can’t! I can’t! I’ve tried! But I can’t!”
“Why not?”
“BECAUSE I WON’T LET HER!”
The low but familiar voice caught both men off guard and threw them into the
defensive. Mulder spun towards the darkness, ready to fight whatever would emerge from
it. Bo ran to Patricia’s unconscious body, instinctively protecting it with parental passion.
And little Goldilocks in her astral form ran under the gurney screaming at the voice that
came at her from smoke and darkness. Because the man stood in the dark shadows of the
room, Bo and Mulder could not see his face or his form. But they didn’t have to. They
knew exactly who it was.
“Gentlemen, you are trying to take something that belongs to me!” the voice bellowed.
“Unless you have a death wish, I suggest that you walk away RIGHT NOW!”
Bo gripped the edge of the bed and hovered over the child’s unconscious body,
determined not to leave her side. “Patricia! Stay close to me!” he ordered the terrified
girl.
The child cowered close to his boots. Mulder backed towards the duo and accidentally
bumped into a medical tray. The thin metal table fell to the floor. From under its paper
sheet spilled medication, needles and… guns! Mulder jumped for the weapons, picking a
pistol up off the floor and aiming blindly into the darkness. “Give it up, Smoking Man!
It’s over! I am placing you under arrest! Come out and put your hands in the air!”
“Enough with the DIRTY HARRY persona, Mulder! You play the part badly!” The
assassin stormed out of the darkness in a cloud of smoke and fury, and the sight of him
sent his enemies careening! Mulder’s jaw dropped open. Bo gasped while Patricia
outright screamed at the approaching monster!
He had changed! Just like the monster in the farmer’s dream, the Smoking Man had
defied nature and changed his form! He was no longer the old, wrinkled man with
scarred-up lungs. His hair was jet black, his skin smooth. His body was now shaped in the
mold of a 25 year old weight lifter! He looked like Jesse Ventura’s brother. He was
young, and strong! Stronger than the two in front of him put together!
“The guns broke the second Patricia’s mind went ballistic!” the killer continued. “It’s
an
assassin’s worst nightmare, you see. For a weapon to break in the middle of a fight is the
same thing as a death sentence!”
Fox slowly lowered his weapon, his eyes still not believing the new form of his old
enemy. “…How did… What hap…”
The assassin smiled at his enemies’ stupor. He raised his hands up and out, flaunting
his
resurrected body. “You like?” he taunted. “Are you impressed? I am! And it’s all free!
Compliments of Patricia!”
“That’s impossible!” Mulder half-whispered.
The assassin chuckled and took a quick puff of the cigarette that rested between his
fingers. “I thought so too! And to be truthful, when she first started changing me I was
scared. Terrified! My first inclination was to do her in. But the guns went dead in the
building, and then the building itself turned into a warehouse of living nightmares! The
deepest, darkest monstrosities everyone kept in the back burners of their imagination
became real, including mine! I couldn’t get to the child, and so my second inclination was
to do what everyone else in this building did: run! And it was when I was fleeing that I
noticed the change!”
Even though he tried not to, Bo trembled at the young assassin in front of him. He
gripped the bed harder, this time out of fear. “Patricia, stop this! You have to stop this!”
“Patricia has control over human genes?” Mulder stated in disbelief. His mind still
worked and scrutinized the paranormal puzzle standing before him. As his thoughts
crunched and processed the information, he voiced out loud his reasonable conclusions.
“Patricia’s mind can probe into the energy transfers of chromosomes and DNA. She can
actually take the genetic code… and reprogram it! And she did that to you because to
have you like this is her own greatest nightmare!”
“And the result is endless youth!” the Smoking Man finished with a flourish. “I have
achieved the greatest power of all! I have obtained the rights of a god and have become
Immortal! Which is why, gentlemen, I INSIST that you step away from the girl! She is
mine! And she belongs to me!”
Patricia’s astral form recoiled near Bo’s leg. “Don’t leave me!” she begged.
“Don’t prod them, Patricia!” the Smoking Man yelled menacingly. “Do you want to be
punished again? Because I will punish you, little girl! I will punish you so hard that you
will never wake up! I will hound you and hurt you, and I will not stop EVER!”
At the assassin’s passionate ventilation, Mulder glanced towards Bo. He knew that the
statement would make his friend mad. And his instincts had not lied; he saw the look of
sheer rage burning brightly in the young farmer’s dark blue eyes. Bo Duke was never one
who took a threat passively, and with a terrified little girl trembling at his feet, he was not
about to back down now! The blond left the bedside and started straight towards the
assassin. He announced with his no-nonsense momentum that he wanted to get this over
with here and now! “I have had it with you people!” Bo furiously yelled.
He stomped past Fox, and Mulder knew that now was the time to either get of the way
or join the bandwagon. He gripped his gun hard and stormed right behind his young
friend. The assassin’s fists clenched. He stood his ground as his two enemies charged at
him like two wolverines.
Bo locked gazes with the Smoking Man, and as he spoke his face went red hot. “You
people come in here with your diseases and your guns, and you bully us around and mess
with our lives because you think that you’re so big and powerful and scary! Well I’ve got
news for you pal! You AIN’T that tough! And you AIN’T that scary!”
The two men bolted up the stairs. The Smoking Man left his dark corner, refusing to
be
intimidated. He charged back at his enemies, and the space between everyone grew
assiduously smaller.
Mulder immediately jumped in front of Bo. “There are many other people in this big
world who are tougher and scarier than you!” the lawman yelled. “AND BO AND I ARE
TWO OF THEM!”
Fox dodged to the left, pushed Bo out of the way, and rebounded with a left hook to
the assassin’s chin. The Smoking Man reeled at the surprise blow, and was then struck
again as Mulder followed his sucker punch with a right jab, fist wrapped tightly around
the gun. The agent swung yet again, but this time the assassin was ready for him. The
Smoking Man grabbed his wrist and twisted it sharply to the left, turning the tendons and
muscles the wrong way. Fox screamed at the pain that flashed through his twisted joints.
He dropped his gun and fell to his knees, his arm caught in a grip that threatened to break
it.
The Smoking Man heard movement behind him just in time to turn around and see Bo
scrambling up off the floor and rushing at him like a quarterback. He kicked in a
sweeping motion at the running farmer’s gut. Bo bounced back at the blow, doubling over
at the pain that shot through previously bruised ribs. The Smoking Man followed his hit
with a kick to the face. The blow smashed into Bo’s jaw. His ears rang. His knees
buckled, and he fell to the floor as the world spun, threatening to black out.
Mulder tried to wrench his hand free of the assassin’s grip. The Smoking Man yanked
his victim to his feet and pounded a wicked cross punch into his nose. Mulder’s face went
numb. He stumbled backwards, temporarily blinded by the hit. He staggered to the end of
the stairs and lost his footing. He fell backwards and landed head and back on the cement
stairwell. Gravity dragged his body down, and the steps mercilessly beat on his back,
face, and ribs as he rolled downward.
Bo staggered to his knees and tried to shake the whiplashed daze out of his head. He
forced himself to his feet, and though still unsteady, attacked the Smoking Man. The
assassin saw him coming, though, and the fight was no contest. Bo swung at his jaw, but
the Smoking Man easily blocked the punch and followed it with his own, a sharp jab to
the ribs. The young farmer doubled over, the pain making it impossible to catch his
breath. The Smoking Man followed the attack with a kick to the Adam’s apple. Bo
grabbed his throat and fell to the floor. It felt like he’d thrown up a softball.
Mulder hit the bottom of the stairwell, and shakily tried to get up onto his feet. His
eyes
caught a glimpse of Patrica’s astral form staring in sheer, ghost-white horror at the fight.
And that’s when he saw it! There, at the child’s feet, lay the advantage that could turn the
tide of the fight! Needles and viles of medication that fell off the small metal table were
spread out on the floor in a jumbled mess amongst the guns! Mulder staggered to his
knees and crawled after the medical instruments. He dragged himself onto the stage, fell
in the midst of the syringes and traced his fingers greedily over the glass tubes.
Meanwhile, the Smoking Man fell on top of Bo. With his knee on his victim’s chest,
he
kept the young farmer pinned to the floor, then wrapped both hands around his neck and
squeezed. Bo struggled at the grip. He tried to squirm out from under his enemy, but the
Smoking Man held him tightly back against the floor. In desperation, Bo gave a sharp
blow to the assassin’s elbow, but the young killer easily brushed the hit off. His grip didn’t
give an inch, and Bo couldn’t get a breath. He was losing strength and the world was
starting to spin when he saw Mulder leap onto the attacker’s back like a lion on a gazelle.
The Smoking Man let go of Bo and desperately retaliated at the danger behind him.
Bo
rolled away and curled up in a ball, choking and gagging at the rush of air. Mulder pulled
a needle of his pocket and stabbed it into the Smoking Man’s neck. The assassin
screamed in pain as the drug from the syringe burst into his veins. He quickly flipped
forward, and Mulder was thrown into a row of chairs. He smashed head on into metal.
His forehead was cut open, and blood flowed into his eyes, blinding him.
Bo saw that Fox was in trouble. He took a large breath, staggered to his feet, and with
what little energy he had left flung himself at the enemy. The Smoking Man saw him
coming and shakily teetered. The drugs were already working! He was disoriented. His
head spun. His vision grew blurry. He sloppily threw a punch at the farmer and missed.
Bo, however, didn’t! The young Duke pounded a punishing cross punch into the assassin’s
face. The Smoking Man reeled and stumbled back. Bo hit him again and again and again,
each blow weakening the man until finally a knock to the jaw sent the assassin down to
the floor.
Bo quickly stood over the guy, ready to smack him the second he moved. He didn’t.
Except for a shallow breath, the young killer kept his eyes closed and didn’t move at all.
Bo
slowly lowered his fist. He’d won! He’d actually won the fight! The reality of the situation
stunned him so much that at first he didn’t move.
“Farmer! Farmer!”
The voice of a little girl woke him out of shock. He turned to the stairwell, where
bounding up from the stage was Patricia in her astral form. Her concerned and hurried
pace stopped the second her eyes met his, and she froze, afraid. She fidgeted
apprehensively next to the plush seats, almost hiding behind them. Bo approached her
slowly, not only because he didn’t want to scare her, but also because his injuries were
killing him. He tried to smile, even though his shoulder and knuckles burned something
awful. Patricia had been running from him all morning, and it looked like she was about
to again. “It’s okay, honey,” he assured her. “Please don’t run. You don’t have to anymore.
Especially not from me!”
She froze, still afraid but obedient. Her instincts still told her that this man meant her
no
harm. Bo moved away from the unconscious assassin and scoured the seats, looking for
Mulder. He finally found his friend three aisles down, spread out on his back over two
chairs.
“Fox?” the young farmer called.
He didn’t respond. Bo quickly hopped down the steps and jogged the best he could to
his friend’s side, his ribs aching and complaining with every step.
“Fox? Are you okay?”
He saw blood on his friend’s forehead, and worried, reached over and gently shook the
lawman’s shoulder. Mulder groaned at the impolite motion.
“Fox?”
“Am I dead?” the lawman groaned.
“No,” Bo replied with a smile.
“Did we win?” Mulder weakly asked, his eyes still closed shut.
Bo chuckled at the monosyllabic whine. “Yes,” he nodded, knowing from the nagging
tone in the older man’s voice that he was going to be all right.
Mulder dragged himself up on his elbows and slowly looked around for the Smoking
Man. He winced as his aching shoulders and back shivered at the strain. When he saw the
assassin spread out on the floor unconscious, a mischievous smile spread across his face.
With gleaming eyes, he turned his grin to Bo. “We bad!” Fox cheerfully stated.
“We very bad!” Bo replied with a large grin.
“We the baddest in the state, baby!” Mulder yelled into the air.
The young farmer leaped up, thrusting his fist into the air with his trademark rebel
yell,
and Mulder whooped and hollered right along with him. Patricia watched the two men
raise the roof with their shouts, and drawn by the euphoric celebration, meekly made her
way to their side. Bo gave Mulder a large brotherly hug, giddy and intoxicated with the
fact that he and Fox had actually made it through all this alive! The shouts and laughing
rose to the ceiling and filled the empty auditorium like the celebrations of a football team
that had just won the Superbowl. The men were beside themselves! Patricia actually
found herself laughing!
Everyone was so consumed with the victory of the moment… that they forgot about
the
planes and bombs.
Until Mulder felt something vibrate in his shirt pocket, and a second later a high
pitched
beep followed. He cocked his head, confused at the strange sensation pulsing next to his
chest. Bo stepped back, and though he still smiled, a look of puzzlement crossed his face.
“What’s that?” he asked.
Mulder looked up at him, and then his smile quickly died. His hand dipped into his
pocket, and pulled the beeper out. The green light flashed and the beeping sound
continued its constant alarm. Bo’s eyes opened wide. He jumped off the chair and
staggered backwards up the stairs. Mulder shot to his feet. Patricia saw the alarmed
demeanor on the men and panicked.
“What is it?” she yelled. “What’s wrong?”
Bo bolted up the stairs to the unconscious assassin. He bent down, grabbed the guy by
the arm, and hauled him over his shoulder. “Fox! Go get Patricia! Get her off the gurney!”
Fox was already on it. With the beeper trembling in his hand and the high-pitched
alarm
ringing through the auditorium, the agent flew down the stairs with a speed he d never
known he had in him. He grabbed Patricia’s body and ripped it free of the bed and various
intravenous needles. Bo bounded down the steps with the Smoking Man slung over his
shoulder.
“FOX! WE NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE NOW!”
Mulder fled off the stage with Patricia’s astral form on his heels and her unconscious
body draped loosely in his arms. He saw a door with the sign EXIT flashing red above it.
He burst through it and saw a stairway leading down. He bolted down it, knowing that he
only had seconds! Fourth floor. The beeper set off again, signaling that the fighters were
near! Third floor. Second. First.
The lawman saw a back door to the outside and burst through it, Bo right behind him.
The two men ran blindly into the open, racing to put distance between them and the
building. Fox saw an abandoned truck ahead of him, and with his heart pounding wildly
in his chest, gripped Patricia hard and ran towards it for cover.

**

Langley, Skinner, Frohike, and Byrnes saw the planes coming on the dark horizon.
Skinner took a look at the front door, but didn’t see any movement at all. With the cell
phone in his hand, he desperately punched the beeper’s number over and over again.
Nothing!
“That’s it! I’m going in after them!” He took his overcoat off and threw it to the side.
Immediately, Langely jumped on him.
“You can’t! You’ll get blown to smithereens!”
Skinner wrestled his shoulders free of the man’s grasp. “I have to try!”
KABOOM! A low-flying fighter from a mile away shot a missile from its underside.
The weapon left the carrier with a low, fiery screech, and seconds later hit the factory
like a meteor. In a matter of seconds, the building became engulfed in a ball of dirt and
flames… and then leveled. A gaping hole marked the middle of the structure. The fence
blew down, and the mud soldiers dissipated into dust. Fire broke out from a busted gas
pipe, and the sky rained bricks.
The Gunmen and Skinner stared at the debris in numb, bewildered, fear. Skinner was
the first to break free from the group. He ran to the destroyed building. In seconds he cut
through the trees and sprinted through the flat plain of prairie grass. He trotted over the
downed fence and was about to run into the building when he saw something in the
distance.
Standing alone in the field, Skinner saw an old, brown, beaten up army truck that had
somehow withstood the initial blast of the missile. It was standing across where the back
door of the building used to be. He could see several shadowy forms lying almost
underneath the vehicle, and a voice told him to check it out. He sprinted towards the
truck with its flat tires and blown-out windows, and behind the steel goliath, spread out
on the floor and covered over with a thin layer of dust was Mulder, Bo, Patricia, and the
Smoking Man ~ all alive, all intact. They had the car to thank for their safety. The steel
frame of the vehicle had actually shielded them from the blast of the missile and the
falling debris of brick and wood.
“Mulder!” he yelled. “Bo! Are you two alright?”
Fox and Bo were curled up on the ground, eyes closed tight, arms over their heads. At
the voice of their friend, they unfurled from their tight coil and gave each other unsteady
glances. They were surprised to see that they were still alive! They turned and stared at
the people who worriedly hovered above them, and were shocked when they recognized
the faces of their friends. Slowly, the pair crawled to the edge of the vehicle and stared at
the building. The place was totally leveled. Bo swallowed hard, his stomach crawling
with the realization of just how close he’d come to being blown into unrecognizable,
microscopic pieces. Mulder flopped on his stomach in relieved exhaustion and almost
kissed the ground in thanksgiving.
“Sir?” the federal agent moaned to his superior.
“Yes, Mulder?” Skinner replied anxiously.
Mulder rolled on his back. “Is now a good time to ask for a raise?” he whined.

**

Surprisingly, the Smoking Man had not stirred at all through the ordeal ~ a fact that
disappointed Bo a little. The experience had been a harrowing one, and there was a little
voice inside the young farmer’s head which whispered a wish that the assassin could have
shared a little in the panic that he and Fox had had to endure. He had slung the guy over
his back and saved him from being turned into the building’s permanent fixture. He didn’t
particularly like saving the assassin, and he knew that he would probably regret it later in
life. But it had been the right thing to do, and Uncle Jesse had always taught him to do
what was right, no matter how distasteful the act seemed to be.
Skinner made sure that Mulder and the young farmer were physically alright, and after
he got over the shock of seeing the Smoking Man younger than him, he slapped the cuffs
on the prisoner, and with reluctance checked his vital signs. The guy was alive, but he
was also out like a light. It looked like he was going to be unconscious for a while. “What
did you give him?” Skinner asked Mulder.
The lawman shrugged. “I’m not sure,” he said, then added with a smile, “But I sure
gave a lot of it!”
There was laughter at the statement, but it was overshadowed by something that made
the overall situation very grave. Like the Smoking Man, Patricia, little Goldilocks, the
Golden Child, did not wake up at all. For a few minutes, Bo didn’t worry about the
unconscious girl that he shielded with his own body when the building blew up in a cloud
of dust and fire. He was sure that Patricia’s astral self was somewhere in the area, hiding
like she always did when she was afraid. But after a few seconds of silence, the glaring
truth hit him like ice cold water. Patricia’s astral self was missing.
He immediately went looking for her. He was sure that he would find the child
somewhere in the immediate vicinity. But the more minutes that passed, the more he
started to worry. After half an hour, the young farmer almost went into a panic. He called
out into the rubble for her, hoping like a father trying to find a missing child that he
would hear her voice in the rubble or brush. He then searched for her, going on his hands
and knees and checking under rocks and debris. The Gunmen and Skinner helped him,
even though they weren’t sure that they would be able see anything. In the end, no one
could find her. Patricia had fled yet again, and this time it looked like she fled for good.
Bo wasn’t quite sure what to do next. He knelt by the girl’s unconscious body and
carefully placed her head in his lap. He hoped that maybe if he gently shook her and
spoke in her ear, she would somehow hear him and wake up. The child looked terrible.
With her skin and lips deathly pale, and her arms black and blue from where intravenous
needles once rested, she looked like a cancer patient that had just had a bout with
chemotherapy. Her thin frame was limp in the young farmer’s hold. Bo stroked the child’s
long golden hair and whispered in her ear. It didn’t work. She still wasn’t waking up.
“Fox!” he called, looking to his friend for help.
Mulder was by the General Lee, using the CB to call for an ambulance. Before he
could speak into the mic, his friend’s distressed voice caught his attention. Though Bo
didn’t finish asking the question, Fox knew what he wanted to ask him… but he didn’t
have the answers. He reassured him the best he could by saying, “The ambulance is
coming.”
Bo gently stroked Patricia’s hair again and nervously sighed. He wasn’t happy with the
answer. “What if that doesn’t work?” he protested. He felt like he was fighting against the
inevitable, and drowning in it.
Mulder shook his head and shrugged. “She’ll come back, Bo. She has no choice. She
has to come back.”
The young blond wearily rubbed his forehead. His inability to do anything was driving
him nuts. “Are you sure?” he nagged.
Mulder wasn’t sure. In fact, he had a really bad feeling about all of this. He thought
about how he should answer the question, and then looked once again above him. The
green clouds still consumed the sky, and were growing even darker. Though their
rampage across the air had stopped, their presence still remained, signaling that the curse
it held on the land still ruled the people in it. The nightmares still roamed these small
southern counties, and people were still separated from their homes. Patricia was the key
to stopping the chaos, and if she couldn’t be found… then the nightmares would never
end. “I hope so,” Fox finally said in answer to the question. “I really hope so…”

*****************************************************************

Though it took hours, an ambulance eventually did come. Because Osage was totally
deserted, there were no ambulances, doctors, or any medical staff in the county. On the
up side, Colonel Claibourne and his sheriff had also left with the mob of people, but that
was little consolation to Fox and Bo. The orderlies loaded both the child and the
Smoking Man on stretchers, then placed them in the center of the car while Bo and
Mulder sat near the corner and were tended to for their various cuts and bruises. Langely,
the Gunmen, and Skinner followed behind in the General Lee.
The ride back to Hazzard was a quiet one. And though Fox and Bo were thankful for
the uneventful drive, both men couldn’t help but feel queasy at the landscape they passed
by. The farmer gazed out the window, unable to get over the massive green clouds that
hung heavy in the sky. The sight of dead grass and the destroyed houses also made him
uneasy. Though the odd-looking air hung low over Hazzard, the land wasn’t as scorched
as it was here. Would it stay that way? He hoped not. Osage looked like something from
a chapter of a fairy tale where an evil witch placed a curse on the land, and under her
grip, life could not go on. It was eerie.
Fox quietly sat in the corner of the car, and as the sirens blazed, he grew introspective
and recluse as he tried to figure out how to break these nightmares without Patricia. His
mind had reached a wall. He was out of answers. After a couple of hours, the van came to
a slow stop, and both Bo and Fox were surprised to find themselves at Hazzard General
hospital. They looked out the window, and saw something that brought light to a pitch
dark day!
Though the people were dressed in funky Chinese clothing and were surrounded by a
mob of federal guards, Bo and Mulder still recognized the individuals in the group. It was
their families! Bo jumped to his feet and brushed past the orderlies, paying no heed to the
yells for him to stay in his seat until the car came to a full stop. Fox did the same. Both
men flung the back doors open, and raced at full speed towards those who waited for
them at the hospital entryway. Though Skinner hadn’t told anyone, he had ordered men
from the General’s CB to pick up Scully and the Dukes at the airport and to make sure
that everyone was at the hospital to meet his return.
Luke heard a wonderfully familiar voice call his name from across the parking lot, and
turned just in time to see his younger cousin come jumping out of an ambulance. He
almost gasped at Bo and Mulder’s battered faces, and then almost cried with relief. Bo
flung himself into his older cousin’s welcoming embrace and hugged him tightly. Daisy
raced to her cousin’s side and embraced his shoulder, while Jesse tried to encompass all
of his kids in his arms. Luke held Bo tight, unwilling and almost afraid to let go.
“Are you okay?” he shakily asked. “We were worried sick about you!”
Bo pulled back and wiped a few straggling tears away from his cheeks. “I’m okay,” he
said reassuringly. He turned around and gave a tight squeeze to both Uncle Jesse and
Daisy. Jesse pulled away, and gently grabbed ahold of Bo’s chin, looking in dismay at the
bruises and cuts that covered his youngest’s face.
“Bo! What did they do to you?”
The old man’s eyes watered as he studied the results of the beating his boy had taken.
Bo hugged his uncle hard. “I’m okay, Uncle Jesse,” he said again, hoping it would stop his
uncle from crying. “I’m okay. And everything’s gonna be alright.”
Dana jogged past the joyous family, and saw Mulder waiting for her in the
background.
She wanted to run up to him and hug him, but in the distance she could see her boss and
the Gunmen, and she knew that such an act was not considered kosher. She froze in her
tracks, knowing that their professions dictated that they display no emotional concern for
each other. Needless to say, she had a hard time staying professional. With quivering lips
she whispered, “Are you okay?”
Mulder smiled and nodded. He didn’t care anymore whether Skinner and the Gunmen
saw him or not. He slowly walked over to his partner and placed his arms around her.
Scully buried her head in Fox’s shoulder and sighed with relief while she fought to hold
her tears back and look strong in front of the crowd.
There was a flurry of frantic hugging, and when the general relief came, the questions
followed. Luke took center stage and rifled the mysteries into the open. How the heck
had he and everyone else ended up in Asia? What happened to the house? Why did Bo
and Mulder look like their faces had had a wrestling match with a lawnmower? And why
was the sky GREEN?
Mulder took the lead and tried to explain what had happened to the anxious crowd in
front of him. With his nonchalant, laid-back style, he started to narrate the unbelievable
story… when a streak of blonde hair flashed in the distance next to the ambulance.
He stopped and blinked, thinking that the sun was playing tricks with his eyes. Bo,
however, knew better. The young farmer immediately broke away from the crowd and
jogged to where Mulder was staring. “Patricia!” he called into the air. “Patricia, where are
you, honey?”
Their was no response. Bo stopped in his tracks, and tried to think things through.
Mulder, Luke, Skinner, Langely, and all the other people jogged after the young farmer
and stopped directly behind him. Bo knew the girl was here. She had to be! She was just
hiding! Where? He saw the ambulance standing alone ahead of him. He rushed towards
it, and when he reached the other side, he found her. Patricia cowered near the ground on
the street, looking like a scared fawn that was ready to bolt away at the approaching mob.
Bo panicked, afraid that he would lose her again.
“Patricia! Stop! Wait!”
The child quickly fell onto her hands and knees and tried to crawl under the vehicle.
She was scared again, scared of all the strange people around her. Bo fell on his knees,
ready to crawl after her. Mulder did the same.
“Everybody stop!” the blond Duke instructed. He shot a glance at Mulder and Scully
and said through his look that the statement was also meant for them. “Let me handle
this.”
Patricia froze under the car. She was so afraid that she didn’t know what to do. All the
people were looking at her, staring at her like an act in a circus ring. She couldn’t tell if
they were angry or something else. She knew that she had caused a lot of trouble. She
knew that she had put these people through a gauntlet of misery. She had hurt them all.
Did they want to hurt her back?
The answer to her question came with a warm, mature yet young smile that she by
now
knew well. Bo slowly crept close to the van and crawled underneath the vehicle’s metal
frame to lay on his stomach near her. Patricia cringed at the sight of the farmer. She was
sure that he’d be angry. But Bo wasn’t mad or even the slightest bit upset. The kind and
gentle demeanor that she’d seen back at the compound was still very much present. And
like before, she could see that this young man meant her no harm.
Bo sighed at the sight of the traumatized girl. “I was really worried about you,” he said
softly, trying to break the ice between them.
Patricia looked at him with confusion. “I didn’t mean to hurt you!” she said, feeling the
need to explain herself. “I couldn’t stop! I tried, but I couldn’t stop! I didn’t want to hurt
anybody!”
“I know,” Bo replied with a smile. “I ain’t mad, honey. No one here is. We just want to
help, is all.”
Patricia immediately stopped ranting. No one had ever believed her before. She stared
at the farmer and shook her head. “Why are you here?” she asked, genuinely baffled at
the
compassionate attention. “What do you want with me?”
“I want you to wake up,” Bo said with a little more seriousness. “And I want you to
turn
the world back to normal.”
Patricia shivered once again. “I can’t,” she whispered, expecting anger at the response.
But again, there wasn’t any.
“Is it because of the Smoking Man?” Bo asked softly. “Is it because he said he’d punish
you? Is it because you’re afraid?”
Patricia didn’t respond. Bo watched her movements carefully to find the answers that
he
was looking for. The child trembled harder and curled up tighter in a ball. Tears welled
in her eyes. She looked up at him, searching to find the words. “He hurt me,” she finally
whispered in response.
Bo felt a lump form in his throat. “I am so sorry,” he whispered, not knowing what
else to say.
“If I wake up,” the child continued. “He’ll hurt me again. He’ll punish me hard, and I’m
afraid because it hurts so very, very much!” Her lips trembled as she spoke. She hugged
the ground tighter and brought her voice lower, afraid that the Smoking Man might hear
their discussion.
Bo s head came up at the statement. “Listen carefully to me,” he instructed. “The
Smoking Man and the members of the Secret Society are never, NEVER going to hurt
you again! I promised you yesterday that I was going to take you away from them, and
I’ve made good on my word. And now I’m making another promise to you!” He looked
her in the eye. “I will never let any of those people ever hurt you again.”
Patricia shook and cried at the statement. This time, however, her tears came not from
fear but from relief. She couldn’t believe it. Her many desperate prayers had finally been
heard, and this young man, this stranger, had come to her like an angel of mercy.
“I know you don’t want to wake up,” Bo continued. “But you can’t stay here like this
forever. You can’t afford to be innocent, Patricia. You have a special gift, a gift that bad
men want to use and abuse. The only way to stop them is to face them. And you have to
start with the Smoking Man.”
Patricia shivered at the statement. “I can’t do this alone,” she whimpered.
Bo shook his head. “You ain’t gonna be alone. I’m here with you. And I ain’t gonna
leave your side.” He held his hand out to her. “Come on now. No more running. No more
hiding. Let’s go and do this together.”
The child stared at the farmer, and then slowly… timidly, crawled out from under the
car beside him. Luke, Skinner, and all the others watched from a distance as Bo escorted
the pale girl to the back of the van. Patricia climbed aboard and saw the Smoking Man
passed out on his gurney. Though he was still unconscious, the sight of him scared her
senseless. Even though he was strapped to the bed and hooked up to strange machines
that recorded his vitals, his muscular frame and his youthful demeanor were still
unnerving. Bo saw the child waver, and immediately climbed into the van behind her.
“I’m here, Patricia!” he told her. “I’m right behind you! You’re not alone! And I ain’t
gonna leave your side! Don’t be afraid.”
Patricia swallowed hard. With her faced flushed and her fists clenched tight, she
walked up to the sleeping assassin and after a few seconds said with a voice that carried
with it years of frustrated defiance, “NO!”
The results were immediate. Bo, Mulder, and everyone else outside got caught in a
simultaneous dizzy spell. They all closed their eyes and stumbled as the sensation swept
over them, and when it was over and they opened their eyes, the sun shone down once
again upon the land. Mulder and Luke rushed to the center of the parking lot and gazed at
the blue skies dotted with white clouds.
Luke scratched his head in confusion and tried to search for a logical explanation to
what had just happened. Daisy, Jesse, the Gunmen, Scully, and Skinner all jumped and
hugged each other. Fox, however, took a more silent, introspective approach. He simply
threw his head back and relished the heat from the long-missed sun. Langely glanced at
the Smoking Man in the van, and gasped. He took his glasses off and wiped them,
thinking that he was seeing things. He put his thick frames back on and stared in shock at
the gurney.
The Smoking Man had changed again. He was no longer the strong and youthful killer
that he d been a few minutes ago. His black hair had turned gray. His skin was now
wrinkled again, and his muscular frame had decomposed into the thin skeleton it once
was.
Bo looked around the van searching for Patricia’s astral form. He couldn’t see her. It
seemed like she had fled again! He immediately got worried and was about to jump out
of the ambulance to look for her when he heard a groan from one of the gurneys.
Patricia’s unconscious body flinched, signaling her return to the world. The child opened
her green eyes and groggily scanned the environment in the car. She wasn’t the least bit
surprised when she saw Bo protectively hovering over her.
The young farmer gave her a warm and sincerely joyful smile. He stretched out his
hand to her, and Patricia shakily reached hers back… and their fingers touched. As they
did, a brief flash of… something, almost like electricity… raced through his mind and
body, and he blinked in surprise, twitching in startlement. But he wasn’t going to ask
about it. There was some sort of bond between them, and that was that, even if it didn’t
make sense.
“Who are you?” the girl weakly asked. The effects of the coma made it difficult for
her to speak, but she was determined. What s your name?”
“Bo,” the young farmer replied. “My name is Bo.”
“Bo?”
He nodded, and with that, Patricia leaned over her railing and hugged her rescuer
hard.
And they both cried.