La Cocachina - An X-files Fan Fiction Story

Chapter 13: La Cocachina

Springer, New Mexico, Route US-412 E, 5:30 PM.

The  FBI-rented Ford Focus slid indolently along the wide open Route 412 in New Mexico stretching from horizon to horizon. Yellow fields of dry grass  outlined the road on both sides. The landscape was flat and featureless,  save for occasional wooden barriers blocking dirt roads that diverged  perpendicularly from the main road and disappeared into the desert  beyond. The blue sky above was streaked by a thin veil of white cirrus clouds.

In  the passenger seat, clean-shaven and dressed in a newly pressed black  suit, Mulder moved his finger along his iPad while Scully drove. His  screen displayed a map on which a straight red line from the East was advancing slowly  to the West. Another line, this one green, was approaching from the  West and converging steadily on the first one. Mulder looked at his  watch.

"We will intercept Dan's trajectory in about an hour," he said.

A  police radio, placed on the Ford's dashboard and tuned in to the local  police frequencies, gave out occasional one-sentence updates. Status  checks were green, shift changes had no transition notes, no one had  been caught speeding.

"Quiet area," observed Scully. Wearing a  black blazer with matching black pants which allowed for better mobility  in case action involving suspects got physical, she kept her eyes on the road.

"Maybe that's why they decided to crash here," Mulder grinned mischievously.

Scully smiled. Chasing evidence of extraterrestrial life was Mulder's  life-long quest. It was only appropriate that he would naturally weave  such a comment into any conversation that took place in New Mexico, the mecca of UFO conspiracy theorists. Still, he was neither a fool, nor a  blind believer. He took the necessary scientific rigor to confirm or  refute his conclusions. And he did so with a generous doze of  self-criticality and humor. Scully enjoyed and appreciated that side of him.

"My understanding is that they didn't exactly decide where to crash," she joked back. "The very term crash implies lack of choice."

"Right as always," said Mulder. "Still, now that we are here, what would you say to a little detour once this case is over?"

"Are you serious?"

"Why not, we are so close by."

Scully laughed. "Roswell's a four-hour drive from here," she said. "Besides, haven't you been there enough times already?"

Mulder sat back in his seat, hands behind his head.

"We can call it vacation," he mused dreamily. "Take time off. Enjoy a refreshing walk in the desert."

"You've taken too many walks in this desert, Mulder," said Scully. "They probably have your face on a 'Wanted' poster there."

"Come on, Scully," he pleaded. "We can't come so close to Roswell and not take another look!"

"OK, calm down," she concurred, amused. "When the case is over, we can talk it over."

Mulder  glanced up as the lonely shape of a water turbine passed by, breaking  the monotony of the otherwise featureless orange-yellow fields on the side of  the road.

"I'll hold you up to that promise," he said. Then, he invested himself in research on his iPad.

Silence settled as they drove. Minutes flew by. Mulder's sudden comment took Scully by surprise.

"Cocassin!" he declared triumphantly.

"What?" Scully jumped, startled.

"We may be dealing with a Cocassin," explained Mulder, pointing to his iPad.