The X-Files: The Truth Revealed

Chapter 43

Brightman Street Bridge - Somerset, MA 

Mulder, Scully, Skinner and Doggett made their way under the police tape that cordoned off the area. A lone policeman stepped forward to bar their way but stepped aside when Skinner flashed his ID. 

"Who's the floater?" he questioned. 

"John Doe," the officer shrugged and moved aside. 

Mulder led the way to the body, the others close behind. Please. Don't let it be Frohike. 

A local homicide detective was just coming to his feet when they arrived. 

"You mind?" Mulder asked without waiting for a reply. 

He knelt down beside the corpse and raised the sheet. 

"It's not him," he announced. 

"Thank, God," Scully said, squatting beside him where she caught a hint of his smile. "Mulder?" she questioned. 

"Blast from the past, Scully." 

She nodded and for a split second, that old familiar feeling of working a case together washed over her, bringing a smile to her as well. Byers moved closer and then quickly turned away. 

"What killed him?" Doggett asked the officer. 

"Well, at first glance... you'd think he drowned but my guess is, he was dead when he hit the water. See here," he said, kneeling down. "His throat appears crushed but what puzzles me... there's no bruising." 

"You have an extra pair of gloves?" Scully asked. 

"And you are..." 

"She's a forensic pathologist attached to the FBI," Skinner answered for her. 

"I'll get you a pair," the detective stood and walked over to the coroner's wagon. 

"What is it, Scully?" Mulder asked. 

"I'm not sure. I mean, he's right. There's no bruising, but this indentation makes it appear as if his larynx was crushed, at least for appearance sake anyway." 

"What aren't you telling us?" Skinner asked. 

"I'll know soon enough." 

As the detective approached, it was Skinner's turn to bar the way. 

"Give us a minute," he said, indicating to the detective that his presence was not required. 

The man stood his ground only briefly before conceding. 

"You need anything else," he slapped the Latex gloves into Skinner's hand, "feel free to get it yourself," he advised and walked away. 

"Way to make friends, Skin Man," Mulder joked. 

Scully donned the gloves and further examined Ferguson's neck. 

"The hyoid bone is crushed," she stated, feeling bone fragments under the skin. "Normally, this would indicate strangulation," she instructed while turning the head one way and then the other. "But this is where I part company with that theory. You see here?" she said, pointing lower, "between the clavicular notches where the suprasternal notch is." 

"It looks like a pin prick," Doggett squinted. 

"From this angle. However..." she said, rotating the corpse to expose the base of the skull, "look right there," she pointed. 

"It's a puncture wound," Mulder said. "This man was a shape-shifter... a resistance fighter. The only way to kill them is to stab them at the base of the skull." 

"It was driven with such force, it went clear through to the other side of his neck. Not much, but just enough to puncture the skin on the front." 

"Isn't their blood toxic to humans?" Skinner asked. 

"Yes, but I think he bled out before he entered the water. I don't see any sign of oozing. It's my understanding that this type of puncture drained them of their blood at which point they disintegrated. Perhaps the cold water preserved the body," she stood, removing the gloves and dropping them beside the body. 

Mulder. 

Mulder turned on his heels when he heard his name called. Rather quickly, he stood and walked several steps away from the group. Scully followed his gaze, wondering what his sudden interest was over in Mt. Hope Bay. 

"Mulder?" 

"It's William." 

"Where?" Scully squinted. 

The group followed Mulder when he told them he knew where to look for William and Frohike. What he didn't tell them... they weren't the only ones looking. 

USS Massachusetts - Battleship Cove, MA 

Frohike crawled out of the cramped space that they'd occupied for the better part of twelve hours and into a room full of tourists strolling through sick bay. He had trouble straightening up and when he did, the muscles in his back and legs protested. 

Will too was stiff although it took less time for his body to accept its new-found freedom. He was more concerned with the crowd of on-lookers who had gathered around the pair wondering where they'd come from. 

"Just checking the ventilation system," Frohike reassured them. "Nothing to be concerned about. Everything's ship-shape," he said. "Come on," he grabbed Will's shirt collar from behind and hurried him along. "Time to blend in and make tracks." 

*** 

Topside, Skinner and Doggett walked along the teakwood decking, watching the stairwells and scanning the large number of tourists.  

Two decks down, Mulder and Scully searched for William and Frohike, knowing time was of the essence. Not fully understanding how, Mulder felt the presence of something sinister, haunting almost. It too was searching. 

Scully willed Mulder to move faster. From behind him, she felt held up, and she fought the urge to push him out of the way and race on ahead, but she knew she couldn't. It wasn't that he was purposely moving at a crawl. It was the tight quarters. How in the hell had men worked aboard this maze and ever accomplish anything? How could they have fought a war from down here, crammed into such a confined space? 

Likewise, Will and Frohike fought the crowds. With the looming thought that Doc was somewhere on board, they were both edgy. Will looked nervously about. Realizing the boy's fears, Frohike rested a hand on his shoulder. 

"Relax," he instructed. 

Will looked up. If only Frohike knew. He could feel the presence of Mulder and Scully, and some of the others as well. But there was more... much more, and Will knew where it came from. Telling Frohike would only set him off, and so he tried to bury it away from his conscious thoughts. He wanted to reach out to Mulder just as he'd risked earlier, but he couldn't for fear that the others would hear.