It Came From Radio Shack by Kelly Keil Part 2 See disclaimer in Part 1 ________________________ Chapter Two "I've come to help you with your problems, So we can be free." Mr. Roboto--Styx "I'll have a cheeseburger, hold the catsup, an order of onion rings, and a chocolate shake. Oh, and a vanilla coke." "Same for me," added Scully. Mulder gaped at her as the waitress jotted it all down, bobbing her bee-hived head. "My nerves could use the cholesterol," Scully said defensively. "It's been a rotten day and I'm starving. Do you have a problem with that, Mulder?" "Not at all, not at all." The waitress walked away, her aqua polyester clad buttocks swaying provocatively, leaving just the two agents in the dining area of the tiny restaurant. They sat across from each other in a booth upholstered in cherry red naugahyde. The table between them was Formica, and all around them chrome gleamed. The little diner looked as if it hadn't changed since Eisenhower was president. It was, well, creepy, for lack of a better word. The way their day was going, Mulder half expected Rod Serling to walk out of the shadows and start narrating. Mulder tapped his fork on the table. Across from him, Scully polished her silverware with her napkin. Neither one seemed eager to speak. Mulder started when the door of the diner opened and three teenagers came in. "...I tell you, it's just not right!" one of them exclaimed. He was short and thin, with a thatch of spiky rust colored hair. "We're all fucked!" Dozens of small medals pinned to his letter jacket tinkled as he moved agitatedly. "Shut up, man," the other boy, this one handsome and tall, said. He motioned with his head toward Mulder and Scully. "Ix-nay on the--" "Shut up yourself, Bobby," the pretty, blond girl with them said, poking Bobby in the ribs. "They're adults, not stupid." She turned her back to Mulder and he saw that she was wearing a high school football letter jacket. He had a strong suspicion that it belonged to Bobby. "Besides, I've never seen them before. They're not from around here." "So?" asked the gangly boy, still nervous and jangling like mad. He also turned his back toward Mulder, who saw that he had lettered in track and forensics. "Look, Scully," said Mulder. "There's a kid after your own heart." Scully turned around and studied the teens. "If you're referring to one who lettered in forensics, Mulder, that means speech, not criminology. You were probably too busy playing basketball to be on the debate team." "Sorry, Scully. We dumb jocks didn't hang with the speech geeks." "I was a speech geek, Mulder, as you so charmingly put it. Math team, quiz bowl, and chess club, too." He grinned at her. "I'd have made an exception in your case." "How very big of you," said Scully, picking up her fork and polishing it with renewed vigor. Mulder's attention returned to the teens, who were still carrying on loudly. "Duh, Gerry," he heard the girl say. "They can't be involved. They have no idea what's going on." "Are you so sure of that, Carol? No one ever comes to this town. How do we know for sure that they're not HIS?" Carol shivered. "I don't know. Oh, Bobby, I'm so scared. What are we going to do?" Bobby put a comforting arm around Carol's shoulders as she looked up into his eyes. Gerry stood behind them, shuffling his feet. He shot Mulder a brief look, started to grin but thought better of it, then glanced away. Mulder motioned with his head towards the teenagers. Scully shook her head. He gave her a peevish look. She glared right back. At that point their food came. While Mulder and Scully ate, the three kids traded furtive whispers while drinking sodas. They were one booth away, so Mulder couldn't hear what they were saying. Every once in awhile Mulder would look at Scully hopefully, only to have her glare right back at him. "When we're done here," she announced, breaking the silence, "we'll go back to the motel. In the morning, we will find a way out of this town. I don't care how. Now if you excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom. It's bound to be cleaner here than it was in my room." That seemed to be that. Scully started to stalk away, but then stopped and turned around. "Oh, and Mulder," she added with a dangerous glint in her eyes, "be good while I'm gone." Mulder just grinned at her as she walked away. Scully sighed. Well, if he got himself too deeply into trouble, she did have her gun. Besides, she told herself, it was unlikely that three teenagers could be dangerous. They were probably just acting melodramatic. Scully remembered being sixteen and thinking the whole world was aligned against her. Somehow, Mulder had never grown out of that phase. Scully walked into the empty restroom and went into the cleanest of the three stalls. Still not trusting the restaurant's standard of hygiene, she wrestled with the dispenser on the wall and eventually managed to pull out an intact tissue paper toilet seat cover. She sat down and comforted herself with the knowledge that most microorganisms couldn't live very long on a toilet seat. Her relief was short-lived. "GIT OUT WILE YOU STIL CAN," was scrawled in red Magic Marker on the stall door. What the hell was going on around here? Was the whole town insane? Mulder lived for this sort of thing, but Scully just found it annoying. She refused to get herself worked up over a poorly veiled threat with so many misspelled words. Scully straightened her clothes, washed her hands, and marched out of the restroom, prepared to snag Mulder and go back to their hideous motel rooms. He was sitting at the booth with the teens, deeply in conversation with them. Damn, she thought. Of course. "Scully, you'll never guess what's going on here." The words scrawled on the bathroom door ran through Scully's mind and she felt a twinge of worry. Then her better judgment kicked in and drew herself up. "Let me guess. Invasion of the Body Snatchers," she answered, dripping sarcasm. "Bingo!" he replied, grinning enthusiastically. He turned back toward the teens. "See, I told you she was good." "You didn't tell us she was hot," commented Gerry, eyeing Scully like she was perfectly cooked piece of prime rib. Mulder scowled at Gerry, who was still staring at Scully's chest and oblivious to Mulder's displeasure. "Well," said Scully, "life is full of all sorts of interesting surprises." * * * "Where are they?" he demanded, munching pizza and peering into the video monitors. "I don't know," said Velda. "They were just here, Master. They haven't taken their bags with them. They'll be back. Maybe they went to get something to eat." "I don't want them getting any ideas. What if they talk to someone?" "No one in town will talk, Master. We've made sure of that. They'll be back and you can have them then." "Him. She's not bad, but he's the real prize." "Whatever you say, Master. But why?" "She's a cute little BB. He the fucking bomb. He's perfect. That voice, those facial expressions--he's a natural. He'll be the perfect specimen. No more fooling with the local inbred stock. He's what I've been waiting for." "But Master..." "Yes, Velda?" "I could use her. To, you know, help around the place. If you know what I mean. I don't ask for much, you know." "Have you taken a fancy to her, Velda?" "Maybe." Velda's bejowled cheeks went from ashy gray to salmon pink. "Why, Velda. I had no idea you were partial to redheads. Anxious to see if the carpet matches the drapes?" "Master, please," she whined. "Very well. You can have her. But first we have to get both of them." "Oh, they'll be back, Master. They'll be back. If you're really worried, send one or two of your toys after them." "I knew there was a reason I kept you around, Velda. You do have a fiendish turn of mind. What would I do without you?" You'd probably be doing five to ten in the state pen, she thought, but wisely said nothing. * * * "You've got to be kidding me," said Scully. "There is no way that car seats four, let alone five." Bobby's red convertible gleamed under the parking lot lights. The top was down and Scully thought it looked adorable--and uncomfortable as hell. "It's not that bad, Scully, and less dangerous than driving our car. That spare tire could blow at any time." Just because Mulder was right didn't mean that she had to like it. Scully climbed into the back seat and sat beside Gerry. He waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively and she gave him a look that would freeze lava. The chastened Gerry looked away. "I don't suppose you'd sit on my lap, Scully," offered Mulder. "I'll pass," was her frosty reply. "It was worth a shot," he muttered as he folded himself into the backseat with Scully and Gerry. "Are you sure you don't want the front seat, mister?" asked Carol. Mulder wheezed, "No, I'm fine. If you could move the seat forward, though, I'd appreciate it." Carol moved it as far forward as it would go and he breathed a sigh of relief when he could move his legs. Bobby and Carol got in and the car sped out of town and down a narrow country road edged with forest. Civilization, such as it was, disappeared. Scully thought longingly of her grimy hotel room and its narrow, bumpy bed. She tried to sit back and get comfortable but found that impossible. She almost regretted not taking Mulder up on his offer to sit on his lap. Using her elbows to jockey for position, Scully found a sensitive spot in Mulder's ribs. His grunt of pain was very satisfying. "Mulder, where are we going?" she shouted. "Beats me." Scully leaned forward. The wind was whipping her hair into disarray and she fought to keep it out of her eyes. "Where are we going?" she shouted to Bobby. Bobby turned back to her. "It's not much further. You see--" "Look out!" yelled Scully. Bobby whipped around and stomped on the brakes but a sickening thud was evidence that he wasn't quick enough. "Holy shit," cried Mulder, vaulting out of the car. Scully clambered out behind him, wishing she'd been smart enough to change into jeans before going to dinner. She could feel Gerry's eyes crawling all over her backside. No doubt he was looking up her skirt. She wished she could turn around and belt him without losing her job. If she had a job by the time this night was over. Scully couldn't imagine Skinner overlooking his two favorite pain-in-the-ass agents running over a pedestrian. She didn't even want to think about the shit detail this little incident would earn them. "Someone call an ambulance," she called out. The kids just stood in a huddle. Mulder was already down on one knee beside the victim, an older man, maybe in his fifties or sixties. Scully began checking for vital signs and was grateful when she found a pulse. She was glad that she wouldn't have to add manslaughter to tonight's little adventure. The victim's arm appeared to be broken. Through the punctured skin she could see bone, but it looked strange in the moonlight. It seemed bent rather than broken. Very, very strange. She tried to tear his sleeve open to get a better look, but at that moment the man woke. He began to thrash about as Mulder tried to hold him down. "You're not gonna be able to hold him," warned Gerry. "They're way too fucking strong. Scwarzenegger couldn't hold one of those suckers down." "What do you mean by 'they'?" shouted Mulder. "They" usually meant oddness in one form or another that just begged to be investigated. With his concentration momentarily broken, Mulder's hold on the injured man weakened. The man leapt up and started to run away. Bobby grabbed Mulder's arm and said, "There's no point in trying to follow. They're way too fast." Mulder saw that was true. The man had disappeared into the forest without a trace. Nothing should be able to move that fast, especially not injured. Scully stood up and joined him. "Mulder, what the hell is going on here?" she asked. "I don't know, Scully. That thing wasn't human, was it?" "He had to be human. What else could he have been?" Still, she thought of the bone that wasn't bone and shivered. "You tell me, Scully." She didn't reply. It promised to be a long, long night. Everybody but Scully turned to get back into the car. "Aren't we going to report this?" she asked. "Report what?" asked Mulder, folding himself like origami in order to fit into the backseat. "We just ran over a man, Mulder. Doesn't that bother you even a little?" "It'd bother me more if there was a man still lying on the pavement. He didn't just walk away from the accident--he ran. I'm not sure about you, but I don't want to explain how that happened to the local authorities." He had a point. Scully resigned herself to the inevitable and climbed back into the convertible. She heard Mulder's sharp intake of breath when her heel struck his shin. High heels did have their uses. * * * Chapter Three "I've got a secret I've been hiding Under my skin." Mr. Roboto--Styx Bobby pulled off of the road and drove to edge of a small cliff. Mulder could see the lights of the small town winking below and inwardly grinned. This was Make-Out Point. Wonderful. He was in the backseat of a convertible with Scully at Make-Out Point. Oh, to be a teenager again. Emitting a large, fake yawn, Mulder stretched, one arm reaching out behind Scully's shoulders. She gave him a look that told he she wasn't fooled by his maneuver, but still leaned her head back and laid it on his arm, closing her eyes. Now would be the time to kiss her, he thought. Mulder wanted to know what had these kids frightened so badly, but right at that moment he wished that he and Scully were alone in the car. He looked over and saw that Gerry was peering down Scully's cleavage. He gave Gerry's hair a sharp tug. Gerry frowned and looked at the back of Bobby's headrest. Mulder was satisfied. Carol turned around in her seat. "Well," she said, "who wants to start?" Bobby also turned around in his seat. "I think Gerry should. After all, it happened to him first." Gerry looked pleased to find all eyes on him. Clearing his throat dramatically, he began. "The pretty women and girls were first," he said. "Whoever he is, he has an eye for the ladies, I'll say that." "What about Carol here? She's pretty," pointed out Scully. "We're not sure why Carol's been left alone," said Gerry. "Now where was I? Oh yeah. I think Sue Carter was the first. She went away to band camp and came back changed." "Changed?" asked Mulder. "Yeah. She used to be really outgoing and friendly. Even to me. But when she got back she was withdrawn and wouldn't talk to anybody. At first I thought maybe she'd popped her cherry at camp or something. I mean, she had always been kinda high-strung--you never know. But then it started happening to other girls in school, one by one. And also to the women in town. Each one would go out of town or be sick for a few days. Each one had a different reason for being out of commission, and each one acted like a zombie when she got back. My mom was one of them." "Yeah, his mom's a real looker," supplied Bobby earnestly. "Shut up, dickweed. That's my MOM you're talking about." Gerry paused. "WAS my mom," he corrected. "That thing living in my house isn't my mom anymore. Anyway, the pretty women weren't the only ones to disappear." He waved his hand toward Bobby. "It's your turn, dude." Bobby shoved a hand through his hair. "The next to go were the strong men. My dad's a construction worker. He said he had a big job in Harpersville and when he came back he was also . . . changed. He doesn't watch football with me anymore, and he doesn't drink beer or eat nachos like he used to. All he does is sit and stare at the wall. He also gets all these weird phone calls at all hours. After the calls, he'll disappear for days at a time. Oh, and something else weird--I saw him chug a quart of what I'll swear was motor oil." Scully snorted. She couldn't help herself. "Motor oil? You've got to be kidding. Drinking a quart of it would land him in the hospital, if it didn't kill him outright." "I told you, lady, that . . . thing is not my dad, and I'm pretty sure it's not human, either. Look, let Carol tell her part and maybe you'll see what we mean." "The overweight people were the next to go. Only they didn't show up later, changed, like the others. They just disappeared and didn't come back. Dad, he's the chief of police, started to investigate all the missing persons cases. Only I think he saw something he shouldn't have, because he changed too. "That isn't the worst part, however. Mom's always been sorta heavy. When she told me she'd won a trip to a weight-loss spa, I knew she wouldn't be coming back. I pleaded with her not to go, but she thought I was nuts. Besides, Dad was all fired-up to have her go. It was the first thing he'd shown any enthusiasm for in days. That alone told me something bad was going to happen, but how was I supposed to know?" "Know what?" asked Scully gently. She wasn't buying any of this, but the girl was obviously upset. Perhaps it was mass hysteria. Maybe she could take a sample of the water and send it in for testing. Or perhaps the local rye fields had become infected with the fungus that produced lysergic acid. It could be anything. Anything rational, that was. "Well, Bobby and I decided to do a little investigating of our own, so we hid in the bushes across the street and saw Dad carry Mom out and put her in the car. But there is no way he could have done that before he changed, especially not with his hernia. Mom outweighed Dad by at least fifty pounds." Carol looked at Bobby. "That wasn't him, was it, Bobby? My dad couldn't have done that to my mom." "Shhh," murmured Bobby, stroking the side of her face. "It wasn't him, I promise. Do you want me to tell the rest?" "No, I'll do it." Carol sniffed loudly then continued. "We followed them to The Lucky Dog Motor Inn and watched them go into one of the rooms. One of the curtains over the windows was open a crack and we could see through it. It. . . was awful. Awful. There were probably twenty or thirty people I recognized from town. All of them had changed. They stood around my mom and at first I couldn't see what was going on. Then Dad pulled out a chain saw and he . . . cut . . . her . . . up." Here Carol began to hyperventilate. Scully frantically looked for some sort of bag. She found a forgotten lunch sack on the floor of the car and snatched at it. She divested it of its contents--two elderly Oreo cookies and a petrified orange--and gave it to Carol to breathe into. "Honey, are you okay?" Scully asked. "No, I am not all right," said Carol when she had regained her breath. "I saw my mom cut up by a bunch of things pretending to be my dad and neighbors. Then they ATE her." Mulder made a face. "They ate her?" Bobby nodded. "I saw it too, and wouldn't believe either if I hadn't have. It was so gross. Everyone in the room got a share. I wanted to take Carol home but she insisted on watching to see what was going to happen." "I didn't want the bastards to get away with it," she said coldly. "Not even my dad." Scully wondered if Carol was experiencing delayed shock. Her mood seemed to swing from weepy and emotional to a rather cold hardness. The girl would bear watching. "A few minutes later," continued Bobby, "we saw this guy in a cloak walking with Velda, the hotel owner, toward where we were hiding. For a second we thought she'd seen us and was going to yell at us for trespassing." "Yeah, Velda is a terrible grump," corroborated Gerry. "But she and the guy with her went into the room. All of them in there were clustered around, practically groveling at his feet. Velda, too, and I've never seen her give ground to anyone, not even the board of health." "Well, that much is obvious," muttered Scully under her breath. "Then the guy in the cloak left and all the people--I mean things--in the room followed him. We tried to follow but they moved too fast. They were long gone before we could even get to the car." "Why am I not surprised that the woman from the hotel is in on this, Scully?" asked Mulder. Scully ignored him. "So, did you recognize this guy in the cloak?" "No, ma'am," replied Bobby. "But we don't get many people around here in cloaks." "We think that maybe he's from Harpersville," supplied Carol. "Why?" asked Mulder. "He's definitely not from around here. And there's all sorts of freaks in Harpersville." "Okay," said Scully slowly. "Well, kids, this has been fun, but I wonder if you drop us off back at our car. I'd like to go to bed." "You can't go yet. We haven't shown you what we came up here to see," pleaded Bobby. "Besides, Scully, we can't just go to back to the hotel and go to bed," said Mulder. "Why not?" Scully demanded. She was tired, damn it. "Because Carol's mom was killed there. We need to be looking for evidence, not sleeping. And besides, how could you sleep there, knowing that a murder had taken place?" Scully could sleep anywhere just fine right now, but she could bet that their return to the hotel would involve looking for non-existent clues, not counting sheep. Mulder was going to owe her big time for this one. "Okay, fine, Mulder. You win. Now what are we supposed to see up here?" Gerry looked at his watch. "It's just about that time, Bobby," he said. "Great. We've got to get out of the car to see it. Come on, it's this way." Bobby led all of them to a point of the cliff with an unobstructed view of the town below. He pointed to a large, dark mansion situated not far from The Lucky Dog Motor Inn. "That place has been vacant for years and Gerry's mom sold it to someone from Harpersville just before everyone started changing." "She wouldn't tell me who it was," said Gerry. "Even though everyone in town was dying to know who'd bought the place, she wouldn't breathe a word. Said she promised to keep it confidential." "It's got to be the cloaked guy who bought it," said Bobby. "That's quite the jump in logic, Bobby," said Scully. There's no proof at all that the occupant of that mansion is in anyway involved in what you say is going on in this town." "Scully, let's hear the kids out. I believe them." "Mulder, I haven't seen any evidence that a crime has even been committed; how can I jump to the conclusion that the person owning that house is a murderer?" "You haven't seen the shipment yet," said Gerry. "Make up your mind after that." "It's usually here by now," fretted Bobby. "Where the hell could it be?" "There it is." Carol pointed toward the road leading into town. "There's the semi." "A semi?" asked Scully. "That's it?" "Wait and see where it's going." They all waited and watched. The semi pulled up behind the large mansion and a dozen floodlights came on. "Down there you can barely see the lights," explained Gerry, "because the house is set so far back from the road, but from up here they stick out like a sore thumb." The side of the semi plainly read "Radio Shack." The driver got out and opened a door in the side of the semi. Someone came out of the house to greet him. A conveyer from the semi was lowered to the back patio of the mansion. Numerous boxes went down the conveyor and were meticulously checked in by the figure. When the delivery was over, the mysterious person handed the driver something and then started taking the boxes inside. The semi driver got into his truck and pulled away. "Is there a Radio Shack in town?" "Actually, yes, there is. It's in the plaza with the dry-cleaner and the Baskin-Robbins. That's one of the reasons why we find the shipment so weird. He gets one every night at this time like clockwork. Who could need that much shit from Radio Shack?" "I'm guessing the person getting that shipment is up to something more sinister than building a ham radio," murmured Mulder. "This still doesn't prove anything," said Scully with her arms crossed. "Can we at least investigate it?" "Couldn't this wait until morning?" Scully countered. "How about we go back to the motel and take a peek in the room where Carol saw her mother murdered? If there's no evidence at all, you can go to sleep and we'll hit the road one way or another tomorrow morning. Is it a deal?" "It'll do, Mulder." "Guys, I've got to take a piss, Gerry said. "You think you can survive without my presence for a few minutes? I'll meet you back at the car." "I think we'll struggle through, Gerry. Don't squat in the poison ivy," teased Carol. "I'm a guy. We don't have to squat." "Just go, Gerry. We'll be fine without you." "No one loves me," mourned Gerry as he sauntered off, whistling a jaunty tune. * * * "Where are they, Velda? You promised me they'd be here. I don't like people who break their promises." "I'm on it, Master. They do say patience is a virtue." "I'm an evil genius, Velda. I don't need virtues." "Right. You've got me there, Master." "Now you find those two hotel guest of yours and bring them back, damn it!" "I told you I'm on it, Master. I've got number twenty-three and number fifteen monitoring them." "All right then. Now we're getting somewhere." He poked the empty pizza box disconsolately. "I don't suppose you've got anything to eat around here. I'm still hungry." "There's some ice cream in the freezer, Master." "That'll do," conceded the master grudgingly. Armed with a spoon, he made his way to the freezer. "Aw, Velda, couldn't you have at least gotten the Ben and Jerry's?" "Until your evil scheme starts paying off, Master, generic ice cream will have to do." The master grumpily began to eat the ice cream, staring at the monitor for number twenty-three. Velda hoped that the ice cream would hold out until number twenty-three located her missing guests. She hated it when the master got into one of his moods, and this one promised to be a doozy. Really. Catering for an evil genius was harder work that it looked. It would be worth it in the end, though. Velda thought of the red-haired woman and smiled as she poured chocolate syrup on Master's ice cream. Yes, even crappy jobs like hers had their compensations. * * * End Part 2/4 ------------------------------------------------------------------------ You have a voice mail message waiting for you at iHello.com: http://click.egroups.com/1/3555/3/_/599222/_/957822617/ ------------------------------------------------------------------------ ---------------------------------------- The X-Files Creative Mailing List Archived at http://www.xemplary.com To subscribe, go to http://www.onelist.com/subscribe/xfc-atxc To unsubscribe, write xfc-atxc-unsubscribe@onelist.com Check out the XFC Feedback list http://www.onelist.com/subscribe/xfc-fdbk ---------------------------------- Imported to ATXC courtesy of NewsGuy news service http://newsguy.com