Agent of Chaos (The X-Files: Origins #1)(58)

“Agent of Chaos?” Mulder wasn’t sure how a guy who carried out his top secret missions from his mom’s basement could help, but he appreciated the gesture. “Thanks again, sir. And the next time I come by, I really do want to check out that telescope.”

“Anytime, airman.” The Major unlocked the dead bolts and reached for the knob. “But be careful. If you start putting the puzzle together, the FBI will start paying attention. You can’t trust them.”

Mulder didn’t know much about the FBI.

But I have to trust someone.





CHAPTER 24

Mulder Residence

8:42 P.M.



Mulder had been holed up in his bedroom for hours. After his conversation with the Major, he drove straight home and ransacked his room, searching for every single secondhand psychology textbook he’d brought from home. Phoebe helped, even though she wasn’t sure what he was trying to find. He wasn’t sure himself.

The Meaning of Murder was his go-to when it came to anything related to the topic. The book referenced personality disorders and psychological conditions that suddenly felt critical for him to understand.

The information in one of those books could hold the answer to catching Law—the Eternal Champion.

Mulder was diving into an abnormal psychology text to learn more about the signs of a split personality when the apartment door slammed.

For a split second, he forgot that Earl Roy was in police custody.

“Mulder?” his father shouted from the living room. “Mulder? Where the hell are you?”

“He sounds really pissed,” Phoebe whispered. “And when did he start calling you that?”

“It’s a long story.”

Interacting with his dad sucked on a normal day, but after being locked in a dog kennel by a delusional psychopath, he wasn’t in the mood. Mulder dropped the textbook on his bed and prepared to storm out of the room when his door flew open instead. It banged against the wall so hard that it rebounded and almost hit his dad in the face.

“Where the hell have you been?” The rage in his dad’s eyes took him by surprise.

“I’ve been here all night.” Mulder picked up the psych book. He had never seen his father this angry. “Reading and hanging out with Phoebe.”

Phoebe waved.

“I thought you weren’t coming home for three more days.”

His dad’s eyes narrowed, and he looked at Mulder with contempt. “I thought so, too, until I got a call from the FBI!”

Oops.

“Do you want to explain why you were in Craiger, Maryland, looking for a serial killer—who almost hacked you to pieces in his basement?” His father’s voice rose.

“The guy was kidnapping and murdering kids. Someone had to find the missing little girl.”

Mulder’s dad jabbed his finger in the air. “Why did it have to be you?”

The question loomed.

“You know why,” he fired back.

“This obsession of yours is dangerous. And it ends here.”

Mulder leaped off the bed. “You don’t get to decide when it ends. It won’t end for me until I find my sister.”

Phoebe stared at her hands folded in her lap. Mulder wished she didn’t have to hear this.

His dad slumped against the wall. “She’s gone. You can’t save her. You and your mother need to let this go.”

His stomach caved in like his father had punched him, and every muscle in his body tightened. “I’ll find out what happened to her.”

Mulder’s dad seemed to shrink before his eyes. He had already given up on the possibility of finding Samantha. Just like he gave up on his marriage and his relationship with his son. Samantha wasn’t the only one who had disappeared that night almost five and a half years ago. His father had vanished, too.

Except he had a choice.

Maybe Mulder’s father blamed him for blacking out and not saving his sister.

“Do you want to talk about what happened in that man’s house?”

Mulder looked at his dad, disgusted. “With you? No thanks.”

“Fine. But the FBI wants you to come in tomorrow afternoon. They have questions. And we’re not telling your mother about this. You’re lucky they called me first.” Bill Mulder gave Phoebe a stern look to make sure she knew that his directive applied to her as well. He stormed out of the room, and his office door slammed a moment later.

“Are you okay?” Phoebe asked.

“Yeah.” He picked up a stack of books and his notes. “But I want to finish this before I talk to the FBI.”

“What is it you’re finishing exactly?” she asked.

“I’m not sure yet.” It was the truth.

Phoebe nodded. “Then finish it and find out.”

Mulder turned his attention back to the books. He opened his copy of Stormbringer and tried to imagine what kind of man would take on the persona of “Law”—someone who chooses the sinners and thinks he has the right to act as judge and jury. A man who is dependent on the power he believes he gets from a demonic sword.

He made a list of everything he knew about Earl Roy Propps and the elaborate fantasy world he’d created based on Michael Moorcock’s series—in which Earl Roy was the companion and protector of the Eternal Champion.