The X-Files: Antibodies by Kevin J. Anderson

run through the forest. He had been a city dog for so long, fenced in; suddenly he had been turned loose in the Oregon forests.
    She wasn’t surprised that Vader had run off, but antibodies
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    she always expected him to come home. She should have kept him on a rope—but how could she bear to do that, when she and her son were already trapped here? Prisoners in hiding? Patrice had been so afraid, she had stripped away the dog’s ID tag. Now if Vader were caught, or injured somehow, there would be no way to get them back together—and no way to track them down.
    Jody had taken it hard, trying his best to keep his hopes up. His every thought was a wish for his dog to return. Apart from his gloom, he looked increasingly healthy now; most of his hair had grown back after the leukemia therapies. His energy level was higher than it had been in a long time. He looked like a normal kid again.
    But his sadness over Vader was like an open sore.
    After every piece he placed in the Earth-Moon jigsaw puzzle, he glanced through the dingy curtains over the main windows, searching the treeline.
    Suddenly he jumped up. “Mom, he’s back!” Jody shouted, pushing away from his chair.
    For a moment, Patrice reacted with alarm, thinking of the hunters, wondering who could have found them, how she might have given them away. But then, through the open screen door, she could hear the dog barking. She stood up from the puzzle table, astonished to see the black Labrador bounding out of the trees.
    Jody leaped away from the table and bolted out the door. He ran toward the black dog so hard she expected her son to sprawl on his face on the gravel driveway or trip on a stump or fallen branch in the yard.
    “Jody, be careful!” she called. Just what she needed—if the boy broke his arm, that would ruin everything. So far, she had managed to avoid all contact with doctors and any people who kept names and records.

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    T H E X - F I L E S
    Jody remained oblivious to everything but his excitement over the dog.
    The boy reached his dog safely, and each tried to outdo the other’s enthusiasm. Vader barked and danced around in circles, leaping into the air. Jody threw his arms around the dog’s neck and wrestled him to the wet ground in a tumble of black fur, pale skin, and weeds.
    Dripping and grass-stained, Jody raced Vader back to the cabin. Patrice wiped her hands on a kitchen towel and came out to the porch to greet him.
    “I told you he’d be okay,” she said.
    Idiotically happy, Jody nodded and then stroked the dog.
    Patrice bent over and ran her fingers through the black fur. The wedding ring, still on her finger, stood out among the dark strands. The black Lab had a difficult time standing still for her, shifting on all four paws and letting his tongue loll out. His tail wagged like an out-of-control rudder, rocking his body off balance on his four paws.
    Other than mud spatters and a few cockleburrs, she found nothing amiss. No injuries, no wounds. Not a mark on him.
    She patted the dog’s head, and Vader rolled his deep brown eyes up at her. With a shake of her head, she said, “I wish you could tell us stories.”

    FIFTEEN
    Hughart’s Family Veterinary Clinic Lincoln City, Oregon
    Wednesday, 5:01 P.M.
    As they approached the veterinary clinic in X the sleepy coastal town of Lincoln City, Scully could hear the barking dogs.
    The building was a large old house that had been converted into a business. The aluminum siding was white, smudged with mildew; the wooden shutters looked as if they needed a coat of paint. The two agents climbed the concrete steps to the main entrance and pushed open a storm door.
    On their way to tracking down David Kennessy’s survivalist brother, a report from this veterinarian’s office had caught Mulder’s attention. When Scully had requested a rush analysis of the strange fluid she had taken during the security guard’s autopsy, the CDC
    had immediately recognized a distinct similarity to another