La Cocachina - An X-files Fan Fiction Story

Chapter 7: New Lead

"They are good at what they do, I'll give you that," said Scully back in the car half an hour later as they merged onto I-83 again. She never ceased to be amazed by the combination of the Lone Gunmen's out-of-place, nerdy looks, choice of random living locations, unique clothing choices, and extraordinary talents. Still, the three conspiracy theorists gave her the creeps. "You do realize that what they did was illegal, right?"

Mulder waved her off. "It's information we could have looked up back at headquarters," he said. "Maybe," he added. "If either of us had the patience to wait long enough to cut through the red tape."

Scully knew it was pointless to argue. She had worked with Mulder for years. Sticking to protocol was not his modus operandi. But she couldn't help feeling exasperated -- and confused.

"Mulder, is there any particular reason why we are still investigating this case?" she asked.

"I don't think we've solved it yet," said Mulder. "You met Mrs. Crane, Scully. You heard her story. She and Tony had a very much normal life, as normal as anyone would have in their position. Until the boy bought his special sneakers. From that point on, something, somewhere, went terribly wrong, and the sneakers were at the center of it."

"I examined his sneakers, Mulder. They were just a pair of old sneakers, almost completely worn out."

"And soaked in blood with high percentage of cocaine," challenged Mulder.

"Which is also what you would expect under the circumstances," defended Scully. "The kid had been taking the drug by injecting the bottom of his feet."

"In your experience, how many cases have you known of drug abusers who chose this method of delivery?"

"So, the kid was creative in trying to hide his habit. So what?"

Mulder smiled. "You know you've been working on the X-files too long when you consider this normal," he said.

Scully sighed. When Mulder had set his mind to keep digging into a case, there was little she could say to convince him otherwise. The truth was, more often than not he happened to be right. He had the uncanny ability to sense the unusual, and a dogged determination to pursue it. Resigned, she took out Langly's printout. "OK, let's do it then," she said.

"Daniel McNiff," she read aloud. "Age 18, Gilmore High. Orphan. Foster parents, but he is not close to them. Lives alone. Works at the Tasty Burger. Seems to be making ends meet, barely, but he is doing it on his own."

"A very different league from Tony," observed Mulder.

"But he is an athlete too," noted Scully as she read the printout. "A runner. Both sprint and long distance."

"Is he any good?"

"Apparently, yes. Recently noticed sports prodigy," she quoted. "Astounding potential. Rising star. This kid is starting to get attention from coaches at the national level."

Mulder was nodding slowly as he listened. "His story is beginning to sound very much like Tony's," he said.

Scully looked at him. "OK, I agree. There do seem to be similarities. Still, Mulder, this kid just happened to buy the same brand of sneakers as Tony. There's nothing unusual about that, or even coincidental. He is an athlete. Athletes buy sneakers."

"$39.95," said Mulder pensively.

"Exactly. A cheap pair of sneakers for a poor teenage athlete who barely makes ends meet."

"Identical to a pair of sneakers a very well-off kid bought and kept as his best pair of sneakers ever, before he died under utterly unexplainable circumstances," said Mulder.

"Aaargh!" Scully leaned back on the car seat, exasperated. "All this kid did was buy a pair of sneakers. And just because of that, he'll have the FBI knocking on his door?"

She held on to the handle above the car door when Mulder swerved without reducing his speed to the mandatory 25 miles per hour limit displayed on the exit sign.

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