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