La Cocachina - An X-files Fan Fiction Story

Chapter 9: Impossible Escape

The trail of intermittent prints from Dan's bloody foot was easy to follow along the pavement. Mulder didn't have to run far before he found Scully a block away, standing with her hands on her hips and staring up at a four-story apartment building.

"He's in there," she said, pointing out a scarlet stain at the entrance.

"Only one way in?" asked Mulder.

"Yup. It's an old building. It's got a rusty fire escape in the back, but we'll hear him if he tries to use it."

"OK, I'm going in," said Mulder.

"And I'll stay here to make sure he doesn't double-back," said Scully.

The patio, covered in sticky green linoleum, led to a staircase with solid wooden handrails, which spiraled upwards in square loops. Mulder worked his way up the stairs following the blood trail.

On the fourth and last floor, the blood prints led to a closet, the door of which was half ajar. Mulder peeked cautiously inside. The closet was empty, save for a mop in a plastic bucket and two brooms. A metal ladder bolted to one of the walls had a splotch of blood on one of its rungs. The ladder ascended to an open hatch in the ceiling, which showed a patch of blue sky above. Mulder climbed up and peeked through the hatch.

Dan was pacing back and forth like a trapped animal on the gravel-covered flat roof. He no longer appeared to be the determined, strong-minded teenager they had spoken to only minutes earlier. His eyes shone with maddening glare. There was edgy, psychotic anxiety to his repetitive back-and-forth pacing.

"Dan, we can help you..." started Mulder. But he could not finish his sentence. With a scream, Dan ran towards the edge of the building, and with a fantastic jump he crossed the empty space above the back yard of the house, landing on the roof of the building on the other side. He ran towards a hatch identical to the one Mulder had emerged from, grabbed the lid, swung it open with astounding strength, and disappeared inside the building.

Mulder ran to the edge from which Dan had jumped, looking four stories down at the back yard and then back up and across to the other building. He judged the distance to be at least forty feet. He ran to the other side of the roof, below which, down on the street, Scully guarded the only entrance.

"He jumped on the next building, Scully!" he shouted down at her, pointing the direction.

Scully sprinted in the direction Mulder was pointing to, while he ran back down the stairs.

They almost collided around the corner. "Why are you running back!?" Mulder exclaimed.

"The two buildings are forty feet apart Mulder. He couldn't have jumped. He must still be in there."

She ran past Mulder and back into the first building.

Mulder sighed and  shook his head. "But -- he jumped..." he muttered to himself, raising his hands in exasperation. Then he settled to wait for Scully to come back out.

She looked somewhat sheepish when she returned several minutes later.

"I don't know what to say," she said. "There are blood prints leading towards the edge of the roof."

"And you will find the same blood prints on the next building over," said Mulder.

"How? That's building's at least 40 feet away!"

"I don't know. But I saw him jump across."

The two followed the overgrown path around the house to the small back yard behind. A tall wire fence ran along the edge of it and separated it from the back yard of building on which Dan had jumped. A gate made of the same wire as the fence was barely visible behind two large overflowing garbage cans. Mulder pushed one of the cans to the side to find out that the gate was locked with a large, industry-strength metal lock.

He looked up at the rust-covered fire escape that hung high above them.

"In case of fire, everyone in this building is screwed," he said, rattling the lock.

The two agents ran around the block to get to the entrance of the building on the other side, which was a mirror image of the first, but facing a smaller street with crumbling, broken pavement. A blood print at the entrance indicated that Dan had already left the building. Across the street was the onset of a wooded area. The bloody trail disappeared there.

"Maybe we should request a police dog," mused Scully pensively, but Mulder shook his head.

"The kid's a runner. He will be miles from here in no time."

They walked back towards Dan's abandoned apartment in silence. Scully spoke first as they were walking in.

"I am sorry for double-guessing you, Mulder. It wasn't even intentional. I just don't believe in the impossible as readily as you do."

"I know," he said. "I only hope that a day will come when you would trust me more."

She didn't answer, although deep inside, part of her protested his judgment. I trust you with my life Mulder, she thought.

Back in Dan's abandoned apartment, Mulder stared at an empty jar. "I put it in here," he said. "I swear."

"What did it look like?"

"Like a small ball of rolled barbed wire," he explained, touching his middle finger to his thumb to show Scully the size of the object he had found in Dan's sneaker. "It had sharp spikes. It must have been painful to keep inside Dan's shoe."

"You think he came back here and took it?"

Mulder shook his head. "I don't think so. He took off in the opposite direction."

Scully looked around the room. "No new blood on the floor," she said, "And the sneaker itself is still here. I think you are right. He didn't come back."

She took the jar. "I'll take it to the lab. Worth running some tests."

Mulder looked at the collection of Coke cans scattered on the floor. "Coca Cola," he said. "Just like Tony."

Scully nodded. "I take my words back, Mulder. You were right. There is more to investigate in this case."