Page 3
Inside the room,
papers, books, and a few articles of clothing were strewn about the floor.
On the walls were posters and pictures of UFOs, artists’ representations
of extraterrestrials, and other such “other-worldly” subjects. Mulder picked
up a jar with a plastic “alien” and orange colored gel inside, and a label
reading “Biohazard” on the outside. He grinned mischievously.
“This looks like
your office, Mulder.”
“My office never
had this stuff… Looks like we’re dealing with a bonafide believer here,
Scully.”
“I deal with
one every day.”
He picked up
an alien incense burner then set it down. Scully smiled. He reminded her
of a little boy in a toyshop. Scully left the room, Mulder reluctantly
following behind.
The woman had
just entered the house with another woman in her early twenties or late
teens.
“Sorry to keep
you waiting for so long. Would you like some coffee?”
“No, thank you,”
Scully replied. She then turned to the second woman. “Are you Mercy?”
“Yeah.”
“We’d like to
ask you a few questions. Is that okay?”
“Sure. Pretty
much everyone wants to ask me questions lately. I’m a popular girl these
days.” She gave a wry laugh. “What would you like to know?”
“You were missing
for quite a bit of time, right?” Mulder began. “How long were you gone?”
“Um… I’m told
it was three weeks, but it only felt like one.”
“Tell us a bit
of what happened. What you felt, saw, heard.”
Mercy talked
about a feeling of weightlessness, hearing strange guttural voices, silhouettes
of figures with large heads shaped like upside-down pears and a small,
yet muscular body. She was tested on, but wasn’t really sure what was done
to her exactly. She was fed a sort of cream or gel. Mulder nodded thoughtfully
after each answer was given. He then thanked the Phelps’ and left. Scully
followed.
“Well?” Scully
said expectantly.
“Let’s go into
town.”
That wasn’t the
answer she wanted. But then, she never got what she wanted out of him.
“What for?”
“I wanna know
when we can catch the next flight to Mars.”
Mulder parked
outside the local bar and got out of the car. Once again, Scully sighed.
Why did they always have to go somewhere with drunken perverts to get information?
She stepped out of the car and followed Mulder into the bar.
Scully coughed.
The bar smelled like sweat, urine, and cheap alcohol. They walked over
to the bartender and sat on the barstools.
“Excuse me, sir.
I’ve heard that this is the best place to see UFOs. Is it true?” Mulder
said.
“You an’ your
wife wanna get a glimpse of them aliens?”
Mulder and Scully
exchanged a look. Mulder smiled. “Something like that.”
“Yeah. Aliens
come here all the time. Don’t know why, but they do.” He started polishing
a shot glass.
“When would be
the best time for seeing aliens?”
“Well,” the bartender
began, spitting into the shot glass and wiping it. “I’ve heard all the
stories there are and-” He cut off, staring at Scully.
She glanced at
the bar. There was a drop of blood on it. Her nose was bleeding again.
She put her hand to her nose. “Um… Where’s the restroom?” The bartender
pointed.
"You okay, Scully?”
“Yeah, I’ll be
fine. I’ll just go wash up.”
Scully hurried
to the direction the man pointed. By the looks of it, the ladies’ room
hadn’t been used in some time. She wasn’t surprised. She entered, went
straight for the sink, and grabbed some paper towels. Why did it happen
at the worst possible moments? She washed the blood off her hands and walked
out. Mulder met her outside.
“I’m alright.
What’d he say?” she said.
“Got any plans
for midnight tonight?” He grinned.