From: raenright@aol.com

Subject: First Blood II: The Chase
Date: 4 Aug 1995

Hi all!
This is the second 'book' in a trilogy of stories, entitled First
Blood. Each installment is in three parts. Part one, The Hunter, has
already been posted, and part three, The Kill, is due out in a few weeks,
if I ever get around to finishing it. Basically they deal with Mulder's
experiences before joining the bureau, while he's still in college.
Part one details how he came back to America to identify the remains
of an ex-girlfriend after she was brutally murdered. He meets four agents,
Eduards, Krevsky, Linfield, and Halpern. Agent Cooley, the team profilist,
appears for the first time in this one, though he's mentioned in part one.
Through Mulder's profiling skills they manage to catch the man before he
can kill his last victim. This is a sort of weird portrayal of Mulder,
he's a lot shyer and not so sarcastic(I figure years of being called crazy
did *that* to him.) This can stand on it's own if you don't mind being a
tad confused at first, and it is a self-contained story, it DOES NOT leave
you hanging at the end of part 3(not *much*, anyway.).
There is no mention of Dana Scully in this story. Fox Mulder, Walter
Skinner, and Phoebe Greene (Short, short cameo) are copyright The Man, The
Station, The Company, no copyright infringement intended, etc...Eduards,
Krevsky, Linfield, Halpern, Cooley, Morrow, and Lewis are out of my head
and belong to me, muchas gracias, tu viajas con extranjeros?
This is in part dedicated to Keri for re-introducing me to one of my
favorite authors of all time.
Enjoy!

First Blood, book 2
The Chase, part 1

August 2, 1984
Oxford University
Oxford, England

Lewis Burbridge sat on his bed and watched his roommate pack.
"Now, let me get this straight." He was clearly confused. "You're
going home."
"That's right."
"On a holiday."
"That's right." Mulder scratched absently at his bandaged wrist, the
result of trying to cook breakfast last week.
"Voluntarily."
"For the first time in my life, Lewis, yes." he zipped the dufflebag
shut with finality.
"And what brought about this change of heart?"
"Two words, Lewis: Federal Agents."
"Won't Phoebe be angry?"
"I guess so. I don't care." He checked his pocket for the plane
ticket. "She's been around all summer and I want to take two weeks off.
She'll live."
"But will you, when she hears about it?"
"Are you going to drive me to the airport or just sit there and find
flaws in my reasoning?"
__________________________
August 3
Washington Airport
Washington, DC

"Kid! Kid!"
It took Mulder's tired mind a few minutes to realize those shouts
were directed at him. A group of sober suited men stood in a corner of the
lobby and yelled. He waved, and the noise lessened.
He managed to pick out which was Eduards and Linfield behind the
identical suits and sunglasses that were almost screaming FBI to the rest
of the airport. The others remained unidentified until he crossed the
floor to greet them.
"Hey kid!"
"How's life?"
"Oxford treatin' you okay? What's with the wrist?"
He responded as best he could to the questions that hit him from all
sides as the knot of men enveloped him. Linfield whacked him, hard, on the
back. "Good to see you, Kid."
"He has a name, Linfield!" Krevsky scowled. "How are you, Mulder?"
"I'm fine, thanks." He smiled at them. "Stupidity notwithstanding. I
tried to fry eggs on a heat plate. It didn't work too well." He held up
his wrist.
"Come on, come on." Eduards started herding the group towards the
door. "We can talk in the car, but Morrow only gave us an hour."
Two Buicks were waiting outside in the parking lot; they were a nice
change from buzzing around in Lewis's little VW Bug, Mulder thought. He
climbed into the front, noting Linfield and Krevsky had already taken the
back. Eduards sat in beside him and started the car.
"So, kid, you up for more G-man duties?" Linfield munched on a
SuperPretzle and grinned. Krevsky punched him.
"More?" Mulder looked back incredulously.
"Sure." Linfield ignored Krevsky's failed attempts to prevent him
from eating in the car. "The only reason Morrow gave us the time, not to
mention the cars, to come and get you, was he wants you recruited. You up
for some action?"
"Sounds good to me." He smiled. His last foray into Federal affairs
had landed him the respect of four agents, and, surprisingly, he had
enjoyed the challenge, however subdued he was over the loss of his friend.
Dani had died a wrongful death, and he had a hard choice to make.
"We brought Cooley along with us this time, too, maybe he can give
you a few pointers." Eduards hung a left onto the freeway.
"What a pain in the butt." Krevsky muttered. "Take my advice, Mulder,
and don't let him get to you. Self-important-"
"Enough, Krev." Eduards cut him off. "None of us like him much." He
explained to Mulder. "But he's a good profilist, and we can tolerate him
for that."
"I thought the Kid was better." Linfield said in a stage whisper to
Krevsky, who nodded. Mulder looked down and toyed with the strap on his
dufflebag, embarrassed.
______________________________
"I forgot to mention this part." Eduards pulled up to the J. Edgar
Hoover building. "Morrow wants to see you before he lets you go running
around with us."
"Be warned, if he's not in a good mood all hell'll break loose."
Linfield said in his ear.
They were all shown into the office by Morrow's secretary, who
assured Eduards that Morrow was indeed in a good mood, he'd be in in a
minute. Mulder stared around him. This looked just like the offices of the
professors at Oxford, minus the books and term papers.
There was a harrumph from the door and they turned in unison.
Assistant Director Morrow was a huge man, easily six five, heavyset,
with a nose that Linfield often said could cut cheese and darting,
intelligent eyes. He motioned for them to sit, and Mulder to remain
standing.
Mulder straightened his stance as the man drew closer, and looked him
right in the eye like his father taught him.
"So, you're the smartass who profiled for the Ammer case, is that
right?" He began to pace around the young man, speaking softly.
"Yessir."
"And you have no bureau experience?"
"Nosir."
Linfield smirked in the background and Krevsky mentally warned Mulder
to brace for impact.
"And what, under the sun or in Satan's fire made *YOU* think *YOU*
were *BUREAU_ MATERIAL?* That you could just *WALTZ* in here and expect
*ACCLAIM?*"
Morrow began shouting, his face inches from Mulder's ear. His eyes
darted nervously, trying to see if he was intending to attack him.
"The fact that I have already assisted in the closing of one case and
the consequent survival of one Anna Martinez, the hostage mister Ammer
took as we attempted to apprehend him, sir! I have never asked for credit
on that case or acclaim, sir!" Mulder's voice turned slightly hysterical
at the end.
"And *WHAT* made you offer your services in the *FIRST PLACE?*"
"The fact that the team profilist, Agent Cooley, was ill and that I
had some psychology training sir!" his voice cracked. Eduards smiled
approvingly.
"YOU CALL THAT A REASON?" Morrow roared.
Mulder gave the man a sudden mild look, surprising himself. "Yes sir,
I do."
Morrow was quiet for a minute before he grinned at Eduards and
nodded. "Very good, Mr. Mulder." he moved back to stand in front of him,
his voice returning to normal. "You pass."
"I...pass?"
"Report to personnel for your temporary ID and then get your ass in
gear. For the next two weeks you are officially a federal agent." He
handed Mulder a small yellow slip. Eduards stood and took his elbow,
guiding the bewildered man out of the office.
"That had style, Kid." Halpern said as they moved down the corridor.
"Nice going."
"What the hell was that all about?" he asked, examining the sheet
carefully.
"Morrow had to make sure you had some guts. He doesn't like his
agents sniveling on the floor all the time." Krevsky said, with a
meaningful glance in Cooley's direction.
"He just tested you for stamina." Eduards grinned. "That was great.
You passed with flying colors. Takes guts to even look that bastard in the
eye."
"Oh."
The next half hour was spent waiting in lines, filling out forms, and
standing still for ID photos. Mulder was exhausted. "Do you have to fill
out this amount of paperwork all the time?"
"No, today's a light day." Cooley said thoughtfully.
_________________________________
"Okay Kid, here's the deal." Eduards tossed a folder at him. "We've
got another serialist, but this time he doesn't kill his victims, he just
kidnaps and scares the hell out of them."
"Scares the hell outta me, too." Linfield tipped back in his chair.
"He takes these people, as far as we can tell, he chloroforms them, god
only knows why since I didn't think anyone even made the stuff anymore,
and then he tortures them, psychologically."
"Should be fun getting into this one." Halpern commented dryly. "We
just got it this morning and we're still going over the evidence."
"I think we'd better chart." Eduards walked over to a whiteboard in
the corner and began to write. "First victim, White female, age
thirty-four."
"Second victim, white male, age twenty." Linfield read from the
sheet.
"Third victim, Hispanic female, age forty. Fourth victim, white
female, age ten." Halpern winced at the age. "He's not even following a
basic gender/age/race pattern."
"Which makes him all the more dangerous." Eduards continued to write.
"Fifth victim, black male, age twenty six."
"And that's all she wrote. For now." Krevsky shoved some papers into
a box and dumped it off his desk. "He's working in the midwest."
"Oh boy, Kid, you should have saved yourself the trouble and just
bought a ticket straight there. Orders from above are sending us straight
into the beloved heartland. Lincoln, Nebraska. In the pithy words of the
agents already stationed there, and I quote-'God's Country'-and I
unquote." Halpern read over Linfield's shoulder. "But we have until
tomorrow to start work on him. Let's go."
"Go?"
"We're going to spend the rest of the day somewhere where Morrow or
his snitch Skinner can't find us." Linfield jerked his thumb downwards.
"The basement."
_________________________
"Wow." Mulder's statement, though brief, said it all.
The basement room Eduards had led them to was dimly lit, the walls
bare except for a few movie posters. He thought he recognized some from
Star Wars.
"The sanctum sanitarium. It used to be the photocopy room. Now it's
our hiding place when Morrow goes on the warpath. Whaddaya think?" Eduards
bowed deeply and stood in the middle of the room. As Mulder stepped
inside, he got a sudden feeling of...rightness. *Weird.*
He shrugged it off and tried to adjust his eyes to the lack of light.
A huge battleship model sat in the corner, half of it's hull missing.
Krevsky touched the mast lovingly. "We come down here to work quietly. It
helps the thought process."
"Did you build that?" Mulder watched with interest.
"Sure did. And that, and that." He pointed to a few other models
around the room. Mulder recognized a B-52, the flying fortress, and a 1929
Ford Model A.
"Sit down, sit." Linfield gestured to a scroungy looking chair in the
corner. Eduards dropped onto the couch. "So we've got, what, Cooley?"
The short, rather fat man paced the floor. Eduards rolled his eyes.
"The killer is male, white, between twenty and forty, in good
physical condition, for starters."
"That helps. Do you know how many athletic, white males between
twenty and forty there are in Nebraska?"
"Now, Halpern, don't be prejudiced. Just because it's the midwest it
doesn't mean everyone wears ten gallon hats and chews tobacco all the
time." Cooley lectured.
"Yes, dad."
"Cut him some slack, Hal?"Eduards asked.
Mulder was examining a cabinet in one corner. He took a bag of
sunflower seeds out of his pocket and crunched on one thoughtfully.
"Yuck." Krevsky yanked on a small string and dabbed some glue on it.
"How do you eat those things, Mulder?"
"What-what's this?" he pointed to the metal cabinet.
"Those are what we lovingly dub the Looney Files. We read them for
kicks sometimes."
"The Looney Files?"
"Technically, the X-Files. It's a dumping ground for stories nobody
else wants to read or investigate because it's too weird. Kind of like
tabloid stuff." Linfield explained.
"Okay, children, let's work on the case, for at least a few minutes?"
Eduards held out a tape. "Recording of the interviews with the victims.
Transcription's in the file." he laid his head against the armrest and
tossed the tape to Halpern, who popped it into a player. A ragged voice
filled the room.
<"Oh god, the rats...water, the-water, give me water, please-" there
were muffled scraping sounds as someone brought her water. "Nonono, I want
water, Jesus Christ, it's coming at me, it's going to-nooo...the blade, I
can't see it, if I jump Oh god there's nothing there-">
Linfield cut in, reading from the file. "Apparently, they've all had
to be sedated and hospitalized. All sorts of weird shit found in their
blood."
The voice changed to a rougher, deeper tone as the first interview
ended.
<"Can you hear me?">
<"Yeah...keep it off me, keep it away from me-">
<"Keep what away from you?">
<"The disease, the disease, blood on my hands, on my arms, I can't
control it, it hurts, ohmygod, get the blood off me-">
"Man had small pinpricks all over his body, like someone spiked a
rolling pin and massaged him with it."
Cooley gagged, but continued scribbling furiously.
<"What does he say to you?">
<"He say, he say he going to kill me, he call for someone, he say he
no want to run no more-">
A thick accent made her words hard to understand. Mulder shut his
eyes and concentrated. Cooley looked at him as if he were crazy, and
continued to take notes.
<"He says he doesn't want to run? Does he say what he's running
from?">
<"He say he no run, he say he going to kill me, make him leave it so
dark madre de dios ave maria purisima!">
"She's the most coherent one so far." Halpern observed.
<"Okay, just relax and tell us what you saw.">
<"Huge...ohmygod it's huge, it's outside the window, don't let it
in.">
<Nothing is outside the window, sir. It can't come in. What does it
look like?">
<"Huge and black-yellow and red eyes, horrible red eyes-"> Linfield
reached over and switched off the tape.
"So." He said calmly, noting the confused faces around him. "Anyone
up for a little LSD trip while we take this one on?"
"Victim four, the last one we just heard, had large amounts of the
drug still in his blood when he was recorded." Krevsky glanced at the
report and went back to his model. "So he could have still been high.
How'd you do that, Linfield?"
"Lucky guess." He shrugged. "Your take, Kid?"
"Sounds as if he's trying to convey some sort of message. That part,
the section about him not wanting to run-could he be an escaped convict?
Some sort of fugitive?"
"I disagree." Cooley tapped his notepad. "I think he's running from
something else."
"Any idea what?" Eduards winked at Mulder.
"I couldn't begin to say, at this point. There's no commonality about
the methods of torture, no thread...yet."
"Wunderkind, do your thing." Linfield scowled. "If Cooley can't, and
Kid can't, we're in DEEP trouble."
"We have no evidence." Cooley looked to Mulder for support. He was
absorbed by the file cabinet again, absently crunching his seeds.
"Yo...Kid! Wake up!" Linfield tossed a wad of paper at him. "What
could possibly be so interesting about those files? We get all the weird
ones anyway. You want looney, he's the men." He pointed to the composite
sketches in the file. Three different versions of the same face stared at
him. "We have an APB out but if this is the best they can do it could be
anyone. Looks like we're tripping on out to Lincoln."
"Great." Krevsky muttered. "We go hunting for the invisible man with
a psychosis that may not exist. My idea of a good time."
End pt 1

===========================================================================

From: raenright@aol.com (RaEnright)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: First Blood: The Chase 2/2/3
Date: 4 Aug 1995 10:49:30 -0400

Hello all, welcome to my weird world. I'm tired of legal trash, let's get
right to it, shall we?

First Blood, book 2
The Chase, part 2

August 4
USAir flight 107
Bound for Lincoln, Nebraska

"Ugh." Linfield snorted in disgust. "Even *I* can't eat this stuff."
"I don't see why not." Eduards said from across the aisle. "You eat
everything else."
"And still stay in tiptop form." Linfield said proudly. "It's the
grease. Melts excess fat right off the body."
"Whatever." Halpern rolled his eyes and crunched on his biscuit.
Mulder reflected that they looked like some sort of business-suit
fraternity. He felt a little out of place. He didn't even own more than
one suit, and he certainly hadn't packed it. He had to be content with
jeans and an Oxford sweatshirt. At least Eduards had found a cool pair of
Ray-Bans for him to wear.
"Twenty minutes to touchdown." Linfield picked at his lunch again.
Krevsky snored and tilted his head the other way, ending up with his
forehead pressed against the plastic of the window. Mulder picked at his
own food, his bandage getting covered in gravy.
"Eat up, Kid, that's good solid plastic and Styrofoam." Linfield
gestured with his fork.
"Thanks, I forgot I hadn't had my daily serving." He responded dryly,
making Halpern choke into his soda cup.
________________________
1 pm
Lincoln's Mercy Hospital
Lincoln

"You can try, for all the good it'll do you." The nurse squinted at
the five suited men and some kid in jeans. "He with you?"
"He's in training." Eduards shot a wry look at Mulder. "Yes, we'd
like to talk to her. And...the other victims are being held here also, is
that right?"
"We've got them in a ward together. Separate rooms." The nurse showed
them to the hallway. "Third door on you left. Her medical records-"
"We have them, thanks." Halpern held up the folder. "Anything new
come out so far?"
"The little girl's finally been able to give a statement. I'll make
sure you get a copy." She nodded curtly and walked off.
"Yeesh, a ten-year old girl. That takes cold blood."
"Yeah, it does." Mulder agreed distantly, remembering another little
girl he'd known.
The third room was occupied by a blonde woman, IV attached at the
wrist. She was conscious, staring at the ceiling. Eduards motioned for
Halpern and Linfield to wait outside.
"I don't want to scare her. Kid, you go first."
Mulder opened the door slowly, staring at the woman on the bed.
"Ma'am?" Eduards followed him. "Ma'am, we're from the FBI. We're here
to help you."
"Water-"
"Ma'am, we need to talk to you." Krevsky held out a glass of water
from the tray. She ignored it. "He gave me food...no water..."
"Krev, get a tape recorder in here."
"M'on it." Krevsky pushed past Cooley and out into the hall.
"Ma'am, what did he do?"
"S'dark, can't see anything-he fed me, so hungry, but no water-"
"What did he feed you?" Cooley asked. Eduards stared.
"Meat...some sorta meat...hot meat, pepper...m'tired, water-"
"You're too late, Krev." Eduards said as Krevsky rushed back in, tape
in hand. "She's out."
_______________________
"Well, *that* was productive." Linfield drawled as they moved to the
final room. "An hour of incoherent mutterings. You sure Morrow didn't give
this to us just to annoy us?"
"I don't see why he would. We found Kid for him, didn't we?" Halpern
leaned against the wall.
"We also took in an unauthorized man, allowed him access to our
files, not to mention our firearms, and fed him off the FBI tab." Eduards
smiled to take the sting out of his words.
Mulder looked in the window of the final room and winced slightly.
This was going to be fun.
"Problem, Kid?"
"no...no." Mulder said, more to himself. "I'm fine."
_______________________
3:30 pm
Travelite Inn
Near Lincoln's Mercy Hospital

"So we have factors, now, do we?"
"Subjects all refer to being kept in total darkness; subjects are fed
and kept alive, excepting the case of subject one, where no water was
supplied, subject was returned, no prints, no nothing, to her home, in a
severe state of dehydration. All subjects were abducted off the street,
apparently, and then returned several days later to their homes,
presumably found through identification the people carried, all subjects
were incoherent, yadda yadda yadda...." Eduards took off his tie.
"Cooley?"
"Definitely a sadist." Cooley looked a little green.
"Kid, your thoughts?"
"Well, he's following his own little pattern, but until we know what
it is..." Mulder shrugged. "And the running...it's throwing him off. Since
we don't know where he takes them, we can't see if he's actually
*running*, or if it's some sort of metaphor." He rubbed is chin and looked
at Cooley. "What about-"
"The houses." They both said at the same time. Cooley looked around
for a map, while Mulder reached for the papers on the table. Eduards and
Linfield exchanged confused glances.
"Here." Cooley spread the map on the table. "Where's the first?"
"1115 Canley."
"Got it."
"Apartment 25, Kent street, north section."
"Next."
Halpern, catching on, leaned over Mulder's shoulder. "Is there a
pattern?"
"Not yet. Keep going, Kid." Cooley responded, marker poised.
They mapped all five locations, but it jumped all over the city, east
side to downtown, slums to suburbs.
"No match." Cooley sat back. Mulder leaned forward again, tracing
streetlines with his hand. "No pattern."
"Shit." Eduards rolled his sleeves up. "You're saying this could be
anyone, anywhere, no pattern, and we're supposed to *catch him*?"
"If he didn't want us to chase him, even subconsciously, he would
have killed his victims. He would have tortured them to death." Mulder
said thickly.
"How d'you figure?"
"I...I'm not sure. But if I were him...that's what I'd think about
doing."
"That scares me, Kid."
"Not half as much as it scares me."
____________________________
"You eat like a pig, Linfield."
"I wouldn't talk, Halpern."
"Pass the ketchup?"
"How much salt do you *need*?"
"More than that, I can tell you."
Five men sat at the hotel table, which was littered with hamburger
wrappers, French fries, cups of soda, and condiment wrappers. The Kid sat
nearby on the couch.
"Hey, you doing okay?" Linfield looked at him, concerned. "Have some
dinner, Kid." He tossed a still-wrapped hamburger at him. He thanked him
and unwrapped it.
"Something bothering you?" Eduards asked.
"Just this case."The Kid smiled sadly. "I don't want to give up.
Either that or my mind won't let me."
"Curse of the profilist." Cooley observed. "The first time you climb
into another man's head and look around. It can be frightening."
"I hate to interrupt this Kodak moment, but would you mind telling me
if you can see anything *useful* as long as you're in someone else's
head?" Linfield waved a fry in front of Cooley's face.
"There's got to be something triggering it." The Kid muttered.
"Something that makes him say, this is the person I take."
"Schizophrenia?" Cooley offered. The Kid nodded. "Could be."
"Does that scare you as much as it does me?" Halpern whispered to
Eduards, who nodded.
The Kid stood and ran a hand through his hair. "We...had a case like
this in one of my classes. The woman would find people, homeless people,
off the street, and care for them. Then...she'd kill them."
"We've handled cases like that."
"The professors said it was the mothering instinct gone wrong." He
thought for a minute. "So what is it about these people that makes this
man decide that they're the one?"
"Maybe we'd best go back to the hospital." Eduards said quietly.
They couldn't see the victims that night; after being told to wait in
the cafeteria for an hour, and then dealing with the 'demoniacally
possessed', nurse Bieyr, as Krevsky dubbed her, they gave up in disgust.
Ignoring Halpern's helpful suggestion that they shoot her, they climbed
back into the cars and drove back to the motel in defeat.
___________________________
2 am
August 5
Travelite Inn

Linfield awoke to the muffled sound of crying.
*What the hell?*
He looked over to the couch, where the cries were apparently coming
from. The Kid was tangled in the blanket, and something was most
definitely wrong.
"Hey Kid! Hey Kid!" he whispered, not wanting to wake Krevsky, asleep
in the next bed. No response.
Throwing his blankets off, he hitched up his pajama bottoms and
stood, almost stubbing his toe on the nightstand.
"Kid!" He tapped him on the shoulder and was rewarded with a clawing
hand on his sleeve. His arm was pulled down and his shoulder nearly
dislocated.
He yanked back, and his sleeve was released. A frightened pair of
eyes looked out from the blanket. "Samantha?" he asked hoarsely. Linfield
touched him again, and he flinched away. The Kid was obviously still not
quite awake, his pupils dilated, sweat running down his forehead.
"Sorry Kid, just Jimmy Linfield. Remember?"
"Linfield?"
"Right. And if you don't quiet down, Krevsky's gonna be over here
too."
The blanket fell off the couch and he stood, unsteadily.
"You need anything, Kid?"
"Just some fresh air."
Linfield followed him out the door. He leaned against the wall,
taking deep breaths.
"Must've been one helluva nightmare, Kid." Linfield surmised.
"You can say that again. God...I wasn't...yelling, was I?"
"No." Linfield smiled. "Do you often yell the names of strange
girls?"
"Samantha?"
"She your girlfriend?"
"Hardly. She was-*is*, my sister."
"And you have nightmares about her? She must either be really ugly
or-" suddenly he remembered what Halpern had said, <Background check came
up normal, except for something about his sister, disappeared, I think.>.
*Oh great, foot in mouth time...*
"She's gone." Mulder said to himself. "I assume you read my
background report?"
"You're clean."
"Always nice to know. They mention my sister, don't they?"
"Vaguely."
"She disappeared. When I was twelve." he took a deep breath. "But
nobody believes me. I see her, in my dreams. She didn't just vanish, she
wasn't just kidnapped. Someone, some*thing*, took her. But nobody wants to
believe me."
"I want to believe." Linfield said softly. "And you're what, twenty
four?"
"I should be past it by now, it was twelve years ago-"
"No, that wasn't what I meant. Sometimes, when we become adults,
memories from childhood can show up. Sometimes as dreams."
"Hey, who's the psychology major here?" Mulder grinned.
"I stick to you for a while and I'll end up in some leather-lined
office shrinking heads for a living. Are you gonna be okay?"
"I'll be fine. Can you answer something?"
"Sure."
"Does it ever seem...do you ever get the feeling that you're on the
wrong side of the looking glass? That reality gets...skewed?"
"Every day of my life." Linfield grinned. "When you look into the
abyss...the abyss looks into you. Someone really deep and smart said that,
and for the life of me I don't know who."
"Beware the monster lest the monster you become."
"And that rings especially true for you, Kid. Be careful that you
don't climb too far into our man's head, or you might not be able to get
back out. Let's go inside, I'm freezing out here."
_________________________
9 am

"We need to talk." Linfield climbed into the car next to Eduards.
Krevsky and Halpern looked up from the back seat.
"Here? Now?" Eduards hissed. "What about?"
"Kid. I sent him off with Cooley, we've got a few minutes. I think we
need to keep an eye on him, Ed."
"Whyinhell for?"
"Because he is a lot more than what he looks like."
"He looks like a Kid to me." Halpern said.
"Exactly." Linfield pointed at him. "Did you, any of you, wake up
around two this morning?"
"Not me."
"Well, I did. And you know what happened to him? Poor kid was crying
in his sleep. Halpern, how much did you get about his sister?"
"Just that she disappeared."
"They don't tell you that he still has nightmares about her. He
thinks something, accent on *thing*, took her. And he's scared shitless of
what he can do."
"What he can do is he can brilliantly profile killers while still
practically in grade school. I don't see what there is to fear in that."
"Of course not." Linfield waved the other car on. "You aren't the one
doing it. He's becoming this guy, thinking like him. It's spooky, and he
doesn't like it. If we're not careful, he's going to run back to Oxford.
And I can guarantee you he won't take work at the bureau when he
graduates."
"Okay, skunks, remember that then. Give the kid a break." Eduards
started the car. "But until then, we have a job to do." He pulled out of
the parking lot and followed Cooley's car to the hospital.
__________________
9:12
Lincoln's Mercy Hospital
Waiting room

Mulder was buried in thought as he pushed the door to the hospital
open. Eyes set on something in the distance, he didn't notice the man
limping towards him, cradling a broken arm, until it was too late.
"DAMN!" the man yelled. "Watch out, man!"
Mulder muttered an apology to the man, who was already out the door,
still cursing.
"Now *there's* psychotic for you." Linfield looked over his shoulder.
"They must've given him the good stuff."
"Good stuff?" Mulder echoed, distracted.
"Painkillers and all that. Something wrong?"
Mulder watched the man walk off. There was something about him-
"No, just tired, that's all." He smiled reassuringly at Linfield.
__________________________
"I don't see it." Eduards crossed his arms. "What could be visible
enough to be seen from a passing car, yet not visible enough to be seen by
six men *looking* for it?"
Mulder lifted the man's foot and tilted his head quizzically. "I'm
not sure."
"What are you looking for?"
"I don't know. I'll tell you when I find it."
"Krevsky, you're a doctor, you take a look."
Krevsky probed the man's neck. "I don't see anything unusual
anywhere."
"Great." Eduards snorted. "This is killing me."
"He'd be able to notice it from far off...maybe deformity of some
kind..." Mulder mumbled to himself. "Can you pass the medical report?"
Krevsky handed him the clipboard. Halpern came in. "We just finished
the first victim. Nothing there either."
Mulder flipped the pages of the medical report. "He had a broken
arm...why doesn't he have a cast on?"
"It should be on the medical charts-look." Krevsky pointed with his
pen. "They found the arm had healed sufficiently."
"Yeah, the lady had pins in her wrist. No mobility. That's the kind
of thing they-" Halpern cut off as Mulder left the room. "Hey Kid, what's
up?"
He fumbled with the doorknob on the third victim's room, the Hispanic
woman. She was awake, muttering incoherently, "Ave maria purisima no dios
agua por favor..." and absently scratching at the ace bandage on her
elbow. Mulder halted and checked her chart, so suddenly that Linfield,
following him, bumped into him. He whirled, and Linfield got a clear
picture of brilliant hazel eyes before he was out in the hall again.
"Kid, are you feeling-"
"Not right now."
The next stop was the second victim, a tall white man with a
prosthetic hand.
Finally, the little girl's room.
Mulder flew in, startled for a minute by the dark-haired sleeping
figure, and they flipping through her records as if they might vanish.
And there it was.
Previous injuries to admittance-
Accidental laceration to the upper bicep muscle, multiple stitches.
Finally he stopped running and whirled on Eduards, out in the hall.
"Sir, where would you go if you wanted to...watch people?"
Eduards shrugged. "I don't know, the train station, maybe. Kid, are
you feeling well?"
"No. But if you wanted to watch people, observe them, without them
thinking you were crazy, or on drugs, where would you go? A place where
people are like that all the time, right?"
"Like..."
"The hospital." They all said at once.
"And then he stalks them, waits until they're alone..." Cooley was
already scribbling again.
"Krevsky, go find out where the victims were hospitalized before
coming here. Halpern, get out a warning, eyes only, to the security
sections of every hospital in Lincoln and outlying areas. Cooley, what ya
got?" Eduards moved them to the side of the hall.
"Sadist, stalker tendencies, Kid, you notice anything else?"
"Something...that's why I noticed him, ye gods I'm becoming a stalker
myself." Mulder murmured. "That man I ran into-maybe a Freudian slip-I'm
gonna go help Krevsky." He ran off. Cooley exchanged a confused look with
Eduards. "He's got a great mind, but no discipline."
"Can we save this chat for another time?" Eduards rubbed his chin.
"Go find Halpern. See if he's got that memo out yet."

===========================================================================

From: raenright@aol.com (RaEnright)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: First Blood: The Chase 3/2/3
Date: 4 Aug 1995 10:49:31 -0400

Here we go a-gain! So just what is it that Mulder saw? Well...

First Blood, book 2
The Chase, part 3

9:28
Lincoln's Mercy Hospital
Lincoln, Neb.

"Yeah, that's it...you have the sketch? Great, great, keep an eye
out. No, don't sound an alarm, I don't want anyone alarmed unnecessarily.
Yeah, call us, here's my pager number, 555-1011." Halpern clicked the
phone and checked the next name on the list.
"I checked their records." Krevsky ran up, Mulder in tow. "Listen to
this-all of them were either treated or hospitalized at two different
hospitals, Willed Hospital or Allenburg Treatment Center."
"Got it." Halpern looked at the directory. "I've already hit
Allenburg. I'll call Willed."
"Now what?" Mulder asked.
"Now we *wait.* Sit down and have a coffee, you look awful."
"Thanks. Where's Eduards?"
"Over here!" someone yelled. Eduards was sitting with Cooley and
Linfield at a booth in the cafeteria.
"Got you a drink, Kid." Linfield handed him a soda bottle.
"Thanks." He slumped into the booth, disturbed by his own behavior.
Eduards gave him a concerned look. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yeah. Wow." Mulder took a sip of the soda. "What a rush."
"The flip side of the coin." Cooley intoned. "You figured it out.
Good going."
"Thank you." Mulder noticed his hand trembling, the other one
gripping the bottle so hard his knuckles were turning white. He forced
himself to relax.
"Here's the game plan." Eduards leaned forward. "We're gonna split
up, Linfield, Halpern, and Kid, you take Willed. Cooley, you and Krevsky
take Allenberg with me. We're gonna stake them out. Remember, athletic
white male, ages 20-40, looks like this." He held up the vague ID sketch.
"And try to look sick or something, you *are * staking out hospitals.
Shouldn't be a problem for you, Kid. Remember, don't make a scene, the
last thing we need are hysterical outpatients beating you with crutches."
He joked, trying to lighten the mood a little. They smiled grimly. "Kid,
you especially, don't try to take him down yourself, you've got no gun.
He's probably working at one of the two, or someone would have caught him
by now. I'm having the branch office run background checks on the staff,
but it'll take a while. Let's go."
__________________
11:30
Willed Hospital, Lincoln

"You seen anyone yet?" Halpern sidled up to Mulder.
"Not yet." Mulder cradled his arm and tried to look injured. "There's
too many people here."
"That can be a good thing. We blend in easier."
"So does he." Linfield muttered. "I found some poor woman whose
husband ditched her with their kid. I'm gonna go play Daddy."
"Good luck, hope he doesn't puke on you." Halpern said. Mulder
grinned.
Halpern's pager beeped, and he made his way to the nurses desk.
Mulder saw him covertly flash his badge and ask to use the telephone.
_________________
"*Eight* suspects match the sketches." Halpern was back. "We can't
possible check them all out without alerting someone. Two orderlies, the
four janitors on the day shift, and two doctors."
"I'd say the orderlies, most likely. They'd have more
maneuverability. The doctors have too much of a spotlight on them, and the
janitors can't get close enough to examine them without risking getting
caught. What have we got on them?"
"Both in one of those 'halfway house' programs, were on the streets,
but managed to pull themselves up and get decent jobs-"
Someone tugged at his elbow. He turned to see a nurse.
"Dr. Glanville will see you now, sir."
Mulder started to protest, but Halpern shook his head. *Don't blow
our cover.* "Dr. Glanville?" He asked.
"He's a *friend* of ours, Kid." Halpern said, and the meaning was all
too clear. *Check him out.*
Mulder let himself be led off. Linfield looked confused, but stayed
where he was.
___________________
11:46am
"Now then, sir, can I ask your name?" the doctor took his injured
hand and examined the sloppy bandage.
"Fox Mulder. I don't have records here-"
"We're used to that, emergency rooms and all. You have insurance?"
Dr. Glanville asked quietly.
"Yes." Mulder lied.
"Good, you're going to need it."
And the world went black.
___________________
12:30 pm
Mulder groaned and opened his eyes. Not that it helped, it was pitch
black. Maybe his eyelids weren't responding.
"Well, awake are we?" a harsh tone rang in the darkness. "Having
fun?"
"Who the hell are you?" he managed to slur, pushing himself upright.
His hands were tied, in front of him, and his legs bound with tape. The
ties hurt like hell.
"A comrade in arms." The voice said, as if this were a great joke.
"Who are you?"
"I have a feeling I'm 'in trouble'." He muttered.
"You know, I was like you." The man's voice echoed in the dark. "I
tried, too."
"Tried what?"
"Your wrist. I tried to die."
Mulder decided his psychology training could kick in anytime now.
"What?"
"I took my own life. What's it like? You must know. I knew."
"Know?" *dolt, say something original.*
"They wouldn't let me." The voice turned vindictive. "I tried, I
tried, they wouldn't let me, they stuck a needle in my arm, my blood full
of drugs...Linnea..." the voice trailed off. The there was an evil laugh.
"Are you scared? Do you want to die? I wanted to, and I was scared. Well,
they didn't let me, so I help others."
"I can help you." Mulder said. "Can you untie me?"
"Do you read Poe?"
"Do I *what?*" he asked incredulously. Oh god, he was in trouble.
"Poe, the greatest author ever. He wrote, you know, great books. He
was insane."
"Can you untie me? I can tell you all about Poe."
"Oh really? Can you, now? Let's hear it."
"I'd like to have my hands back."
"Oh no, you might try to hurt yourself, before I could help you.
Couldn't have that. Tell me about Poe."
Mulder closed his eyes and flipped through the index cards in his
mind, finally finding the references he as looking for. He began to read
off the page in his head, silently blessing whatever gods existed for a
photographic memory. He had to keep talking.
*Well, I found him. Now if they can find me...*
______________________
1 pm

"You do know a lot about Poe, don't you? Can you recite his books?"
The voice was softer, less harsh. "I wouldn't have to die if I could do
that. But Linnea used to love him, yes indeed. She used to read about him
all the time. She was like you, she remembered him."
"Linnea was your wife?"
Silence.
"Who was she?"
"Tell me 'The Raven'."
"Who was Linnea? Did she die?"
That had to be the stupid question for the year. His wrists were
tingling, his fingers swollen and numb. His shoulders were cramping, and
he was a more than a little tired of the dark. Something wet was running
down the side of his face, and it itched like hell.
"She died. The Raven, if you please."
"Was she your daughter?"
"They all tried. They did, I know it. They had excuses, but how could
anyone want to live? Tell me that, how would anyone else want to live
without her?"
"I don't know. Who is she?"
"She tried, and he did, he even cut his hand off! Can you imagine
that? And the little girl, she was so small..."
*He's talking about the other victims; he thinks they tried to kill
themselves.* "They were hurt accidentally. They didn't even know Linnea."
"Everyone knew Linnea. Now, sir." His voice rose an octave. "A
recital, before I help you to your grave."
Mulder swallowed and decided if he pushed any more he might indeed
end up meeting Linnea.
"Once upon a midnight dreary,
while I pondered weak and weary
Over many a quaint and curious
volume of forgotten lore..."
_____________________
"Very good, sir. You do have a gift. Now, for your turn. Are you
grateful?"
"For what?"
"For the chance to die?"
"No. I don't know Linnea, Doctor. Please, don't do this."
"Oh, but I know you want to die, your wrist is bandaged. They did it
to me, so *I* wouldn't do it. You don't have to lie."
"I'm not, believe me."
"Have you read The Telltale Heart?"
"Want me to recite it?" he said hopefully. Maybe if he could
stall...where the hell was everyone?
"I want you to live it."
A dull *thud*ing started in the room; Mulder recognized it as the dead
man's heart, taken out of the story. *And now what do I do, confess to
murder, like the character did?*
A door slammed, and he was alone with the heartbeat.
Thud...Thud...Thud...
Thud...Thud...Thud...
____________________
2:15 pm

"Whereinhell is he?" Linfield had given up the concerned father act
and was now pretending to read the last rites over some unconscious soul
in the hallway.
"I don't know. He was going to check on one of the doctors-oh, shit,
I didn't just..."
"I think we'd better go find that doctor." Linfield dropped the man's
hand and started purposely towards the nurse's station.
Halpern almost slammed into him as he stopped. "Excuse me, can you
page Dr. Glanville?"
"Yes sir." The duty nurses' eyes widened.
Five minutes passed.
"He may have checked out early. He sometimes goes visiting at some of
the other hospitals in the area."
"Ma'am, we're with the FBI." Linfield held out his badge. "Can you
tell me where he lives?"
"Y-yeah." She dug through the rolodex and handed them the card with
his address on it.
"Halpern, stay here. Get Eduards on the phone and tell him to look
out. I'm going to check his house."
"I'll have backup there."
"Tell them to be careful, possible hostage situation, agent may be
down."
___________________
1:47
Thud...Thud...Thud
*Confessing may not be such a bad idea. Maybe he'll turn the damned
thing off.*
Thud...Thud...Thud...
"I confess! Doctor, I murdered him!"
"The heart knows all, sir! You'll have to do better than that!"
*What I wouldn't do for a swiss army knife right about now...*
Thud...Thud...Thud...
____________________
2:28
The car whipped around, rattled up the suburban street noisily.
Before it had even stopped fully, Linfield was out, leaving his keys in
the car, gun drawn.
A SWAT team member met him there; the Kid had better appreciate this.
"We're heading in. Do you know *anything* about what kind of weapons this
guy may have?"
"No idea. Poor kid didn't even have a gun on him. Clear the house,
but leave the final arrest to me. Got it?"
"Right."
___________________
2:15
"Feeling fine, sir?"
Thud...Thud...Thud...
"B-bastard."
Thud...Thud...Thud...
"You'll see soon. If you don't, I'll send you off like the others."
Thud...Thud...Thud...
*He's going to drive me insane.*
___________________
2:28
"Freeze!"
"Clear!"
Nothing.
"Freeze!"
"Clear!"
Nothing.
The basement was the only place left.
__________________
2:29
*Funny, I can hear voices.*
*You're losing it, Mulder.*
Thud...Thud...Thud...
"Do you hear the angels coming for you?"
__________________
Linfield kicked the door in, reminding himself to put a new pair of
shoes on the FBI expense roster. Not to mention a foot cast.
The good doctor stood there, in a lit booth, a tape recorder set in
front of a microphone. He was unarmed. He submitted easily, and Linfield
cuffed him for good measure. "Can't have you attacking us, doctor. Find
out what he did with our agent." He ordered the man who took custody.
He reached out and switched the tape off as they led him out the
door.
"Am I dead?"
He ducked automatically, the realized it was coming from a speaker in
the wall. The Kid's voice, small and frightened. "Doctor?"
"It's all right, Kid. Linfield here."
"Would you mind turning on the lights?"
__________________
*Perfect.* Eduards thought as he looked in the window. *One more
veggie, courtesy of the FBI.*
The Kid was in there, asleep, and pretty much drugged out of his
mind.
"Tell ya, kid's got *style*." Linfield said. "I turn the tape off and
he asks if he's dead. That takes guts."
"It may have taken the last of his, ever think of that?" Eduards said
sharply. "Do you really think there's a chance in hell he won't try to put
as much distance as possible between himself and the bureau once he gets
out of here?"
"Come on, it wasn't that bad. A bump to the head and a few hours in a
basement. That's not so awful."
"Hey look, he's up!" Halpern pointed. The Kid was blinking, trying to
sit up and failing miserably. "Now *that's* guts for you, Linfield."
"We'll see." Eduards pushed open the door. "Agent Mulder! Lay back
down there."
The Kid's head snapped up, and he smiled. "No sir, Agent Eduards,
sir, I think I'd rather sit up."
Krevsky supported his back as he winced. His hands were still swollen
and the angry burn on his wrist was chafed. "Thanks."
"No problem."
"Hey, Kid, how's the dead man?" Linfield ignored the angry look
Eduards shot him.
"I think I'm alive, now, but I could be wrong." He shook his head.
"What did they do to me?"
"Morphine and assorted other painkillers." Krevsky said
professionally. "And you need them, believe me."
"Did you get him?"
"Nailed him. But next time, try not to be live bait? Too often you
could end up *dead meat.*" Halpern held out a tape. "He was trying to
drive you crazy."
"Tell me about it. But...." He smiled. "I don't think there's gonna
*be* a next time."
Linfield frowned.
"Mulder, I know how you must feel, but the bureau needs you."
Eduards said softly. "You can't-"
"No, not like that. No more serial killers, not until I get a gun and
some training. And until they get rid of the lunatic that sent me along
with that guy." He said, with a pointed look at Halpern.
"Right, I hereby resign." Halpern tossed his badge at Mulder, who
considered it suspiciously and tossed it back, grimacing as his fingers
gripped it. "All right, forgiven. But this is you last chance."
"Gee thanks, Director Mulder."
____________________________
August 10, 1983
Lewis-
Thought you might like a postcard. That picture's of the building where
I've been working for the past week. We just wrapped up another case and
I'm due back for school soon. This chasing drug dealers and killers is
getting boring. We just caught another murderer. Ho hum.
Can you do me a favor? There's a large volume of Edgar Allan Poe's works
on the bookshelf in my bedroom. I want you to go get it and either sell it
or burn it. Don't ask why, I'll explain some other time.
Tell Phoebe I said hi, and if she hasn't trashed my reputation all over
Oxford(again) tell her I'm sorry, and that all the guys here say hi
too(Especially Krevsky, he says she looks like a 'babe'). The bureau is
great, I'll tell you all about it when I get back.
Federal Bureau Of Investigation Special Agent Fox Mulder(Has a nice ring
to it.)
____________________________
Prodigy is, at it's essence, adaptability and persistent, positive
obsession. Without persistence, what remains is an enthusiasm of the
moment. Without adaptability, what remains may be channeled into
destructive fanatacism. Without positive obsession, there is nothing at
all.
-Lauren Olamina, Earthseed: The Books of the Living
Octavia Butler, The Parable Of The Sower