The X-Files Origins--Devil's Advocate

by Jonathan Maberry

  “Oh, I believe you,” he said. “It all fits. As ugly and bizarre as it is, everything fits.”

  “I don’t know whether to be relieved or cry,” admitted Dana.

  “What you should be,” said Sunlight, “is very, very careful, because I believe this is bigger than you think.”

  “What?” asked Ethan. “Bigger than six teens getting killed by some kind of religious psychopath?”

  “Yes.” Sunlight glanced around, then lowered his voice. “If these murders were this well orchestrated, then how likely is it the angel is acting alone?”

  “That’s what I thought,” said Dana. “Maybe there’s two of them. Like Leopold and Loeb.”

  “Anything’s possible,” said Sunlight. “It could also be one extraordinary person and some lesser persons assisting him.”

  “Assisting?” asked Ethan. “Who would do that?”

  “A charismatic person can often exert control over others. Ask Charles Manson. And I will not be surprised at all to discover that’s what we have here.”

  Ethan looked unconvinced. “Is this a guess or did this theory come to you in some kind of vision?”

  “Ethan,” said Dana under her breath.

  Sunlight smiled and waved it away. “It’s perfectly fine if you don’t believe it. I’ve been dealing with that kind of reaction my whole life. People who don’t possess psychic qualities find it very hard to accept that these qualities exist in anyone. It’s understandable. There’s fear, of course, and a lack of understanding. There’s some jealousy, too. Not only in you, Ethan, but in anyone who is outside of the psychic experience. It’s a natural reaction. However, let me ask you this: When Dana told you that she saw Maisie Bell in the school locker room, did you believe her?”

  Dana turned to watch Ethan’s face, and she saw a rush of different expressions come and go. His eyes briefly met hers, then slid away. That hurt, because she saw the doubt, saw his struggle to believe, understood how it was all at odds with the pure science he loved so much. She still held on to his hand, but now his fingers were icy.

  Finally Ethan said, “I want to believe.”

  It was exactly the same thing Dana had said to her sister a few days ago. I want to believe. It took some of the pain out of the moment, but it was a long, long way from saying I believe.

  “That’s something,” said Sunlight, reaching out to salvage the moment. “It’s a sign of an open mind and, perhaps, of an open heart.”

  Ethan cleared his throat. “I don’t believe in much,” he said. “This is all about someone trying to imitate religious murders, but I don’t believe in God or anything.”

  “I could say something trite like, ‘God doesn’t require your belief,’” said Sunlight, “but that’s beside the point. Someone is doing this, and that person does believe. It doesn’t change how we view it, nor does it limit us from attempting a proper response.”

  Ethan thought about that, and nodded.

  “I don’t even believe all of it,” admitted Dana. “I’ve always had to wrestle with this stuff. I mean, I go to church and I believe in God, but there are a lot of things I don’t know if I believe. And stuff I’m not sure I can believe, and a bunch of stuff I don’t want to believe in.”

  “That’s the sign of a healthy mind and an even healthier intellect, Dana,” said Sunlight. “And it’s part of your personal evolution, your transition into a higher state of understanding. You are just now catching glimpses of what you will become.”

  Ethan looked down into his glass of root beer and made no comment.

  Dana said, “What do we do now?”

  “No,” said Sunlight. “Before we talk about that, we have to go back to what I started to say. About being careful.”

  “We are being careful.”

  “No,” he said, “you’re not. You’re looking at your own visions as if they are pictures in a TV screen. That’s not how it works. Maybe it does when you have visions of ordinary people, but not when you are making deep contact with another psychic.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Have you ever heard of the German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche?”

  “I heard his name before,” she said.

  “He is often quoted by writers, politicians, and others. A quote from him applies very much to your visions, and it should stand as a strict warning for you. For anyone with psychic qualities. It is this: ‘When you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.’ Do you understand what that implies?”

  Dana felt her facial muscles turn to ice. “God…”

  “Wait, what does it mean?” demanded Ethan.

  “It means, son,” said Sunlight, “that as much as Dana has been coming to know and understand the angel, the angel has likewise been learning about her.”

  “Oh no!” gasped Dana.

  “Oh yes. And because it’s very clear to me that the angel is a far more powerful psychic, it is very likely he knows quite a lot about you, Dana. And maybe about you, too, Ethan. He probably knows who you are, your names, where you go to school, and possibly even where you live. I would not be at all surprised if he wasn’t already planning on how he will come after you. And make no mistake; he will have to come after you, because you are now a clear danger to him.”

  The whole store seemed to fall into a crushing silence. All Dana could hear were the artillery bursts of her heartbeat.

  Sunlight still wore his smile, though. “Now that I have scared the life out of you,” he said, “let me tell you how we can fix this.”

  “Can we?” croaked Ethan. “Isn’t it already too late?”

  “There is another expression, one I particularly like,” said Sunlight. “‘Where there’s life, there’s hope.’”

  “What can we do?” pleaded Dana.

  “You? For now, nothing. Go home, stay home. Talk to no one about this. As for me, I’m very well known in Craiger. I’ve been on TV and talk shows. Everyone knows what I am, or at least they think they do. They know enough to accept that I am a well-known psychic.” Sunlight shrugged. “I’ve even helped the sheriff’s department once or twice with missing persons cases. In each case the bodies of the missing children were found. The families were able to get some closure. I tell you this because it means that I have a certain relationship with the sheriff’s department, and with the state police. Perhaps I can have a quiet word with them about this.”

  “Would you?”

  Sunlight sat back and pursed his lips. “I need to think about how best to do it. This has to be done in such a way as to keep both of you completely out of it.”

  Ethan nodded.

  “Oh, please,” said Dana.

  “For now, though,” said Sunlight, “you two need to stop looking into this. No more peeks at Uncle Frank’s case files. No more talking about it to anyone. Dana, if you have another vision, you come and tell me. I want you both out of it.”

  “What about the angel?” asked Ethan. “If you’re right and he knows about her, how do we keep Dana safe?”

  Sunlight nodded. “That’s a good question. Dana, you need to start being careful. No more walking home alone at night. No more jujutsu classes. No more late visits here. No going out after dark at all. Not alone. Can you do that?”

  Without meaning to, Dana cut a look at Ethan. “I…”

  “Dana?” Sunlight said in a warning tone. “You’re a smart girl. Be smart. And Ethan, be a gentleman. If Dana wants to see you, then go visit her at her house. Don’t ever let her walk home in the dark alone again.”

  Ethan paled. “Yes, sir.”

  Sunlight nodded and reached out one hand to each of them. They hesitated, then took his hands. His skin was very hot.

  “We’ll get through this,” said Sunlight. “I promise. Let me handle everything.”

  A shadow fell across the table, and Corinda was there. “Oh, hey! I didn’t see you all here. I’ve been so busy you just snuck right past me. Is everything okay, Dana?”

  “Yes,” said Dana,
giving Sunlight’s hand a final squeeze. “Maybe it is.”

  PART THREE

  THE RED AGE

  The treachery of demons is nothing compared to the betrayal of an angel.

  —Brenna Yovanoff

  CHAPTER 63

  Craiger, Maryland

  5:11 P.M.

  Ethan and Dana stood on the street, holding hands, both of them trembling. They seemed to vibrate at a hundred different frequencies.

  “That was…,” began Ethan, but he paused, uncertain how to finish.

  “Weird?” suggested Dana.

  “More than that. Different, strange, scary, bizarre. I may run out of adjectives.”

  “Sunlight’s a little hard to take, I guess,” she said.

  “A little?” Ethan shook his head. “His plan is out there. Can’t wait to tell the guys in the science club about this.”

  “Are you making fun of him?” Dana demanded.

  “No. It’s just that if all this new age stuff is real, then it has to be part of science. Tisa, Jerry, and Sylvia all seem to think there’s something to ESP and all this. I have to admit that I still don’t know where I stand. I trust you, Dana, but this is still hard for me to wrap my mind around. I want to talk to the science club guys some more. Maybe we can figure out a way to tie it all back to something we can … I don’t know … measure? Study? Understand?”

  Dana said nothing for a minute. “Either way,” she said, “I feel better having Sunlight on our side.”

  Ethan nodded. “We can use all the help we can get.”

  They began walking. He lived closer to Main Street, and her house was more or less in a straight line three-quarters of a mile past his and two blocks over. The sun was tumbling toward the west, seeming to drag the day’s warmth with it. The wind smelled of seawater. The trees on either side of the street were crowded with noisy birds. Crows and grackles seemed to dominate the chatter, their black wings glistening, their black eyes always alert and watchful.

  “So, what now?” asked Ethan after they’d walked a few blocks. “We just pretend that we’re not involved at all?”

  “That’s what Sunlight said.”

  “Can we?”

  “Can’t we?” countered Dana.

  Ethan made a face. “No, I mean how can we? We’re part of this. It’s ours.”

  She stopped and faced him. “This isn’t about taking credit, Ethan.”

  “I didn’t mean that.”

  “Then what did you mean?”

  He took too long in answering, and Dana gaped at him. “Are you serious? You want the credit for figuring this out?” she demanded. “That’s it, isn’t it? This is all about you wanting to be a forensic scientist. You want to break the big case.”

  “No,” he said, but there was not enough emphasis in his voice. “We figured this out together.”

  “‘We’?” she fired back. “I seem to remember it being my theory about the religious stuff that helped us figure it out.”

  Ethan scowled. “So, then you want to take the credit for it. You can’t get all high and mighty with me and say that this is all about me wanting to be a forensic scientist when you’re acting like you’re the great detective, figuring it all out.”

  “I did figure it out,” she yelled.

  “Only because I showed you the case files, Dana. Let’s not forget that I took a heck of a risk with that.”

  “Like I’m not taking risks every time I close my eyes,” said Dana. “Like I’m not taking risks walking out the door in the morning.”

  “I never said you weren’t.”

  “Oh,” she said, “but you’re taking a bigger risk, is that it?”

  “I never said that, either,” protested Ethan, his voice rising with hers. The birds scolded them from the trees, but neither of them noticed or cared. “I just want to know why we should be completely cut out of this.”

  “Because we’d get grounded until we’re eighty,” she snapped. “You said that yourself. Besides, do you think anyone would ever trust you with evidence if you were the guy who stole case files from your own uncle?”

  “Hey, I didn’t steal anything. I put it all back exactly as I found it.”

  “Like that will make a difference when you apply for a job.”

  “And I suppose your dad’s not going to ground you?” said Ethan. “From what I heard, he’s pretty harsh.”

  “Don’t you dare talk about my dad.”

  “I’m just saying—”

  “No. You don’t talk about him. Or anyone in my family. You don’t know him or us or anything.”

  “Dana,” said Ethan, trying to step back from the moment, “I didn’t mean anything.”

  She spun around and marched away.

  “Whoa!” he yelled, starting after her. “You’re not supposed to go anywhere alone.”

  When he caught up to her, she whirled on him and jabbed him hard in the chest with her index finger. “Back off! I don’t need you to protect me, Ethan. I can take very good care of myself, thank you very much.”

  “You’re just a girl and—” he began, and then bit down on the rest.

  Dana got up in his face, as much as her height would allow. She glowered up at him. “I’m just a girl and what?”

  “No … no,” he stammered. “I didn’t mean…”

  “Yes, you did,” she said. She stepped back, and it was like stepping off a cliff. “Yes, you did,” she repeated.

  Then she turned and walked away.

  CHAPTER 64

  Francis Scott Key Regional High School

  5:32 P.M.

  Her route took her past the school.

  It was quiet there, the windows dark, the parking lot empty, everything bathed in the orange glow of sodium-vapor streetlights. Dana walked past, then stopped and went to the side of the building, to where bleachers rose above the soccer field. She climbed to the fifth row, which was exactly as far as her energy would let her climb, and then she sat down hard and stared into the middle of nowhere.

  She wanted to scream. That would probably feel good, but there wasn’t really a place in a town this small where someone could just let loose. She was too scared and mad to cry. So she sat with jaws clamped and fists balled.

  Everything in her life felt weird and complicated and in a collision, and now this mess with Ethan. That really hurt, because she actually cared for Ethan, and now he’d done this. Now he’d shown that he was no different from any other boy, any other man. She was a girl and that meant she was less. That was what he tried not to say; but it was what came out. The world wasn’t built for girls or women. It was built by men who did not want to share. Not the power, not the money, not the advantage, not anything. It made her so mad. After all, this was 1979. Shouldn’t all this have been solved by now?

  “¿Qué pasa, mai?”

  She lifted her face from her hands and looked down to see Angelo standing at the foot of the bleachers. He was dressed in his janitor clothes, a blue sweat rag tied around his forehead.

  “Go away,” she said.

  “No,” he said, “I don’t think I will.”

  “Look, I just want to be alone, okay?”

  “Okay,” he said, but he didn’t move.

  “Did you hear me?”

  “Sure,” said Angelo, “I heard. But you’re sitting here all alone in the dark, looking like you want to strangle someone.”

  “It’s none of your business.”

  He placed a foot on the bottom bleacher and rested his crossed forearms on it, looking up at her. His forearms and hands were very tanned, except for some small pink scars and a paler band where he usually wore a wristwatch. “Maybe not, chica, but I’m here anyway. So are you. If there’s something wrong, maybe I can help.”

  “You can’t.”

  He smiled. “How do you know? I’m a good listener.”

  “You’re a guy,” she said.

  “Last time I checked, sí.”

  “Then no thanks.”

  “Ah,”
he said. He straightened and climbed the steps. When she tensed, he shifted to sit well apart from her. “Not trying to make problems, chica. I see you at Beyond Beyond all the time. You’ve been talking with La Bruja a lot.”

  “Who?”

  “Corinda. The witch.”

  “She’s not a witch.”

  “I know, I know. She’s a psychic. I work there. I get it.” Even so, he shook his head. “She thinks she knows everything, but she don’t know much. Not the way she says. She’s a—”

  “She’s my friend.”

  Angelo inhaled through his nose, then exhaled slowly. “Okay. Got it. Keep my opinions to myself. What do I know, anyway? I’m just a wetback working two jobs for crap wages. Who am I?”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “Say what?”

  “That word.”

  “Wetback?” Angelo snorted. “Ain’t the worst thing I’ve been called. Everybody’s got a different name for me. Lazy, spic, greaser, illegal alien, take your pick.”

  “I never say anything like that,” said Dana.

  He nodded and measured out half a smile. “You’re more polite than most.”

  “I’m not prejudiced.”

  “Everyone is,” he said. “Not everyone admits it to themselves.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “You told me to buzz off ’cause I’m a guy.”

  “That’s different,” she said.

  “Is it? Why are guys on your hate list today?”

  Dana didn’t answer. A black car passed slowly by, and they both turned to look at it.

  “Lot of those cats around,” said Angelo.

  “Who?”

  “Men,” he said, grinning.

  “Be serious.”

  “Men in black,” he expanded. “Scary guys in black suits driving black cars.”

  “They’re probably undercover narcs.”

  “No,” he said. “They ain’t.”

  “Then what are they?”

  He shrugged. “No lo sé. But they’re around a lot lately.”

  She wiped her nose and crumpled the tissue. “You changed the subject.”

  He shrugged again. “Wasn’t a good subject. We were talking about you hating on guys, and I’m a guy. I can’t see how I’d come out on top of that conversation.”