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said anything.

There were some tarpaulins on a shelf. We spread them on the floor to lie on. They weren't especially comfortable as bedding goes, but they were better than lying directly on the diesel-soaked and grease-stained floor. Normally stress made me want to sleep, but I was so scared and confused, sleep was the last thing on my mind. It being so cold inside that building only pushed it further away.

They say misery (and self-interest where Titouan was concerned) makes strange bedfellows. It seemed to be true. Instead of sleeping like Sam and Tish, Titouan and Avery were more interested in talking. I drifted in and out of their conversation, spending most of my time glued to the window, and hoping they wouldn’t get into another argument. That was until Avery brought up something that tore me from my indifference. He brought up Titouan’s ghost.

“I did not exactly tell the truth about what I saw on the ice. I did see a person. His coloration was very similar to the woman back at the house.”

Titouan’s eyes got wide and a scowl etched at his face. “You made me look like a complete fool, Avery. Why would you not say anything?”

There was a long pause before Avery finally spoke. "When your nickname is Faux Mulder, no one tends to take what you say very seriously.”

“It makes you wonder what he was doing out there alone,” Titouan said, miraculously devoid of malice, especially given Avery’s admission.

“My guess is, he was not out there alone. Why would he be? They appear to run in packs.”

“Only one attacked Tom,” Titouan said.

In the dim light, I saw Avery’s head turn toward where I stood next to the window. “I believe there were many in that area. William would attest to that.”

Apparently, Avery had heard some of the same strange noises I had. It was quite clear the stigma around his nickname had affected him more than I thought. “There sure seemed to be.”

Something occurred to me. “Jack said he and Tom had heard the sound of a diesel engine near the Patch. The question is why would a truck or whatever it was be out there? If what he said was true, and he had no reason to make it up, this opens up a hell of a lot more questions.”

There were several moments of silence before Avery spoke up. “What if the truck transported some number of Grays out there?”

Titouan countered. “What if the noise of the truck lured them out there? They seem to be drawn to noise.”

Avery nodded. “And smell.”

“Lost delivery guy?” Titouan asked.

“I asked Sam about deliveries. None were due for five days. I doubt very seriously they’d send a truck out in that weather even if one had been scheduled. I don’t think it was that,” I said.

“There are several issues here. None of which we know enough about to speculate,” Avery said.

I almost laughed out loud at the notion of Avery fearing to speculate. “Never stopped you before.”

“If I could come to a logical conclusion about why someone would take those things to the Patch, I would most certainly tell you.”

“I’ll take a stab at it, then,” Titouan said. “If someone brought those things to the Patch, that probably means they have some control over them. If they have control over them, then they probably had something to do with why they are the way they are. There is a military base here in Barrow. Maybe it was an experiment gone wrong. Maybe the military was rounding them up?”

Avery wasn’t convinced. “We are talking about genetic alteration on a grand scale.”

“It’s an Air Force, forward radar base, guys. I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t be doing experiments like that there,” I said.

“Yeah, and Roswell Airforce Base was only used to teach people how to fly,” Titouan said.

Even in the dim light, I could see Avery’s eyes grow large with surprise and maybe even approval. “One issue with what you said, Titouan. It is Walker Airforce Base. There was no--”

“I thank I done woke up to another nightmare. Like I woke up in a damn cold-ass, stinky fuckin room, filled with three-damned George Norrys. You all might as well go ta sleep.  I'll take the watch," Sam said, still lying on his side on the tarp. “’Cause ‘is ol’ boy ain’t goin back ta sleep.”

Of all people, Titouan asked, “What about the Patch?”

“We just got to hope you nerds are wrong and stick with our plan of goin to Miley's," Sam said.

“Miley’s is the plan. It always has been. If he’s not there, we round up whatever vehicles we can find, and we bust ass back to the Patch and get them,” I said.

“And take them where?” Titouan asked.

“All we can take is one step at a time,” I said. “We’re going to be winging a fair amount of this crap, I’m afraid.”

I had just finished my sentence when another round of gunfire erupted. A whole shit load of it, and it was much closer than the previous shots.

“That’s damn close, boys,” Sam said.

There was a brief pause in the gunfire, followed by shouts, in a language none of us understood, from what sounded like a very agitated woman maybe a block away.

Sam and I shared mortified glances before he uttered, “The fuck?”

Thoughts swirled around my mind. Before that, we hadn’t seen or heard a fully functional person since arriving in Barrow. For the briefest of moments, I was hopeful. As unlikely as it seemed, maybe this woman was with Barrow Police or more unlikely the military.

Tish, suddenly aroused from her stupor, got up to look out the window. Someone screaming stopped her in her tracks. I waved her back to her seat. She offered no resistance.

Another round of gunfire erupted again, near Miley’s, followed directly with sounds I couldn’t readily identify. The flood of auditory offerings had bottlenecked my ability to fully process what I was hearing. The abject terror I felt didn’t exactly foster clarity of thinking, either.

Avery muttered

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