REPOST: FORGOTTEN SOULS 6

[ImAStinker]

Mulder was led down Franklin Street to Lincoln Ave and then down an alley
to a large cardboard box across the street from a deserted market. He
stuck his head inside the box to discover Rose's collection of
treasures...a program from an opera..candlestick holders..various pieces
of costume jewelry, the Christmas cards he'd given her for the last three
years...the small shelter was filled with momentos of her life. Regret
pulled at his soul and tears filled his eyes. Maybe he should have done
more for her...Come on Mulder, pull yourself together, why do you always
get so damned involved? He sat on the ground and began sifting through
her things, maintaining in his mind that he was looking at "evidence" not
pieces of someone's life, when he came across the business card. What
would she be doing with a business card? He turned it over in his hand
and read it out loud.

"Vestor Laboratories, New Products for a New Age. 1947 Jefferson Ave.
Washington, DC."

He put the card in his pocket, remembering that Rose had mentioned that a
research company was paying her to use some product. It was probably
nothing, but his instincts told him to check it out anyway...and he'd
always trusted them in the past, why stop now. He backed out of the box
and looked for Dr. Jay but he had disappeared as quickly as he'd appeared
at the encampment. It was dark now and he was getting hungry despite the
tumult in his stomach from the unsavory sights and sounds around him, so
he headed toward a diner he'd spotted on the way over here.

It was a small place, but it appeared to be clean... probably a lot
cleaner than he was at the moment, he thought wryly. He walked in and
asked to use their bathroom, for he really needed to wash his
hands....among other things and was rudely told by the waitress that the
restroom was for paying customers only. He stared at her with strained
patience and hoarsely croaked, "I *am* a paying customer." He pulled out
the wad of ones and showed them to her. "Now, will you please point me in
the right direction to the restroom and get me two hot dogs with
everything?"
The waitress pointed to the far corner of the room, turned abruptly with a
harumph and placed the order. He returned to the counter feeling a little
better, paid for the dogs and sat down on a stool.

"Sir, you can't eat that here," she said in an uppity tone.

"Why not?" he asked, slightly perturbed.

"It's bad for business."

"Bad for business?" What the hell was she talking about?

"People don't wanna see *derelicts* eating in here...it makes em' think
the place is dirty."

His face adopted an unreadable expression as he stood up and announced to
the waitress in a slightly raised voice,"Well, geez, lady, why would
anybody think that? I know....maybe you think that I might pick my nose
and wipe it on the counter....or spit on the floor..." he turned to leave,
but couldn't resist one last retort and looked over his shoulder as he
walked to the door....." Hell, I might even *Fart* on the way out." He
slammed the door behind him, took a bite of the hot dog and made his way
toward the Harding Street overpass. He didn't like being a non-person.

He walked as quickly as he could, for he had a strange sensation of being
followed and wanted to get somewhere where at least he wasn't alone.
Seeing the campfire lights in the distance, he picked up his pace as he
passed another alleyway. Suddenly there was a blur in the darkness and he
felt several hands slam his body into the brick wall just inside the
alley, smashing his face into the rough, unyielding surface. Stunned, he
slid to the ground on hands and knees where a solidly booted foot impacted
several times with his stomach and rib cage. Warm blood filled his mouth
as they took the remaining money from his pocket and just when he thought
they would finish him off, he heard a familiar voice yell for them to
stop, accompanied by a strange whining sound, then all was silent as he
drifted off into a state of limbo.

The sun's warmth upon his face slowly brought him back to consciousness as
he opened his left eye and slowly tried to sit up. Oh shit, that was a
mistake, he thought painfully, and brought a hand up tentatively to touch
his face and then his forehead. The whole right side was ballooning,
especially his right eye and his mouth. It seems that a tooth had gone
through his tongue and into his bottom lip. His chest hurt when he
breathed, his stomach was sore, and his leg ached unmercifully, from the
dampness, no doubt. He thought seriously about giving up, then about Rose
and all the other nameless, invisible people who would die if he didn't
find an answer to this puzzle....No, he wouldn't give up...couldn't give
up...the truth *is* out there and it was his responsibility...his moral
obligation to find it.

He surveyed the area and discovered that he was back at the encampment.
How in the hell did he get back here? Spying a pile of blood-soaked rags
at his feet, he was wondering who had cared for him during the night, when
a voice boomed into his left ear from behind his shoulder.

"Well, Ian my boy, it seems you've finally decided to wake up after all,
eh? You had me worried there for a while."

Mulder had jumped at the sound of his voice, for the man had once again
approached him without detection. I've got to be more alert, he thought,
I must be getting "sloppy".

"What happened, Dr. Jay? I don't quite remember."

"My you are a "newbie" aren't you? It appears that you were "rolled,"
quite effectively I might add, in the alley just a block away from here.
My dear Ian, there are many thing you'll need to learn if you expect to
survive here, two of which are the following: Number one; If you have
any money, never show it to anyone--you never know who's watching and
Number two: *Never* walk these streets alone after dark. I found you in
the alley, brought you back here, and cleaned you up a little....you
certainly were a sight."

"How did you manage to move me?" he asked, incredulously. Mulder studied
him openly. Doc was only about 5'4" and weighed maybe 120 lbs., while he
was 6'1" and was nearly sixty pounds heavier.

"I'm a lot stronger than I look and I didn't have to carry you very far."

"Well, in any case, I owe you. Thanks."

"Don't mention it. I am certain that you would have done the same for
me."

Mulder reached into his pocket and pulled out the business card that he'd
found among Rose's things.

"By the way, do you know anything about this research company? Rose told
me that they pay good money for people to test their products."

"Take my advice, Ian, pass on the offer."

"Why?"

"Let's just say that I don think they're what they appear to be and leave
it at that. Forget about it."

"Whatever you say, Doc." He placed the card back into his pocket and
dropped the subject for the time being.

Doc took a pot from the fire and poured an amber-colored liquid into a cup
and handed it to Mulder.

"Here, drink this tea and I"ll guarantee you'll feel much better in about
twenty minutes."

"What kind of tea is it?"

"Just my own special herbal blend," he said mysteriously.

Mulder brought the cup to his swollen lips and took a small sip. It had a
sweet, pleasant taste and warmed him from within, in such a way that he
drank the entire cup. He turned to offer his appreciation to Doc only to
find that the little man had vanished again, leaving nothing behind except
a dark pair of sunglasses which Mulder immediately placed over his bulging
and discolored eye. He got up very slowly and discovered that he did
indeed feel much better....he'd have to find out what was in that stuff
cause he could use a truckload of it.