Margaret clung to her grandson, thankful that the child was being quiet. She now knew what she was up against. Letting instinct guide her, her mind played out one scenario after another against her enemy. When her family was at stake, she abandoned civility. She imagined Attila crouched against a wall while his intestines were eaten away by disease. She dredged up every memory of helping Dana study for medical exams, and aimed that memory at the unseen terror, fighting in the only way she knew.
Thank God, at least the iconoclastic trio of computer geeks didn’t call her crazy. At least, not to her face. And the young Englishman was focusing exclusively on maintaining himself above the wall of pain. His colorless lips whispered directions from a crude map, while Langly and Byers formed a human chair for him. They moved as quickly as their circumstances allowed, doubling back to the ancient elevator which could carry them back to ground level.
Acrid fumes rose from the sludge running through the lines, but their more immediate concern was the thunder that rumbled overhead, and the fact that the tainted water was rising. If the storm resulted in heavy rainfall, they would drown in this sub-basement to the city.
Voices echoed down the line, and the entourage froze. Had Attila discovered their escape and sent his young soldiers to stop them?
"That’s Mulder!" observed Frohike, his shoulders slumping in relief.
"And that’s Sydney!" The Bailey boy’s face broke into a smile. "I’d know her voice anywhere!"
Heartened by the recognition, they redoubled their pace. "Mulder!" Byers called. "We’re coming your way. We’ve got the baby and Mrs. Scully, and the Bailey kid. Any idea how to get them out of here?"
"That you, Byers? We’re working on it!" Mulder called back.
"Nigel? How are you doing?"
Sydney’s concern washed over the young man and he straightened. "I’m fine," he lied with a valiant flourish.
By honing in on the voices, they were able to rendezvous within moments. Sydney brandished a long piece of rust – it was too far gone to rightly be called a sword any more – and Mulder’s arm supported Agent Doggett. Doggett, for his part, looked little better than Bailey.
"All present and accounted for," quipped Langly. "Any idea where to go from here?"
Nigel nodded, swallowing. "I think so. The elevator is that way." He waved his arm to the next intersecting pipe. "I’m not sure how far."
"Not very," Sydney confirmed. "Of course, they’ll be waiting for us."
Margaret’s heart sunk. "They’re children."
"They’re Stepford children," Frohike added grimly.
"We may not have a choice," Mulder pointed out. "But if there’s any way, we don’t hurt these kids. They’ve already been victimized by a monster."
Go to Part Thirty Seven.