Chapter 4

Chris shook his head, rubbed his eyes and tried to will the impossible away. He was a rational person. There was always an explanation for everything. He circled the car and wiped away the film of ash from the passenger side rear window, expecting to see the face of his unknown visitor staring back. The back seat was empty. Removing his jacket, he tossed it into the front. Returning to the footprints, he slowly followed them across the bridge. For twenty yards they led down the middle of the road where they abruptly stopped. Another small set of bare footprints led to the left, straight towards the three foot concrete wall that protected motorists from plunging over the side. A sick feeling began to pull at his stomach and then grip it like a vise. He approached the wall where the tracks stopped side by side. Small hand prints gripped the wall and two small footprints were imprinted between them, where this nameless, faceless "child", Chris thought, had climbed up.

Everything within him screamed to stay away from the edge. Every bit of common sense told him to walk away. His hands were on the wall. Peering over the edge, inky black water gently rippled. Looking out to where the water melted into the fog, it was an impenetrable black veil. He lowered his gaze to the water directly below him and sharply drew in his breath, pulling away from the wall. Quickly he looked over the edge to make sure his eyes were not playing tricks on him. Slowly drifting under the bridge was a body facedown. The body of a child dressed in a dark blue dress, her arms stretched out over her head. Her dark brown hair floating in a halo around her.

"Hey, HEY!" She did not move, but bobbed up and down, almost out of sight beneath the bridge. "I'm coming!" Chris' scream sounded hollow in the dampening haze. In a panic he sprinted along the remaining ten yards of bridge and crashed through waste high weeds that covered the slope down to the water's edge. He clambered over rocks and large chunks of concrete as he reached the water. With abandon he plunged under the bridge into near darkness.

"Hello! Can you hear me! I'm here!" No response but the faint lapping of water on rocks. He crouched on the edge and squinted for any sign of the girl. Nothing. With total disregard, he waded knee deep into the river. Chris blindly groped the water around him, breathing hard with panic. His fingers brushed fabric and he jumped with surprise. Reaching again he grabbed two fistfuls of the cloth and pulled with all his might. Backpedalling, he emerged from under the bridge and fell onto the shore. Looking down, a large chunk of driftwood lay at his feet. A torn piece of cloth was snagged around it.

"No, that's not possible. I saw her, I saw her. She was there." Gasping, he leaned back on his elbows and closed his eyes. Slowly, a pressure in his chest grew, as if someone was pushing their thumb into him, then their fist. Spidery-black veins began to grow from around the handprint on his tee-shirt, reaching to encompass him. An intense fire began to burn with him and he rolled into the fetal position.

"Yaaaah!" He wailed as he was being consumed. The edges of his vision blurred and he rolled to his back staring at the fog shrouded sky.

"Noooo! Ahhhhh!" A high pitched scream shook him from his stupor. Sitting up, everything still looked fuzzy, and the world took on brown tones, the fog was gone. "Stop! Stop! Noooo!" The screams were louder. Chris stood on the edge of the water looking up and down the bank, but no one was in view. A scuffling from the bridge above him drew his attention. Two teenagers, a boy and a girl came into view. The girl looked concerned, almost frightened. The boy had rage in his eyes. In his arms, a girl of eight or nine squirmed futilely. She wore a dark blue dress; her dark brown hair flew wildly. The girl in blue was wild with terror.

"Hey you two!" Chris yelled up, "Let go of her now!" They ignored him and began quickly talking to themselves. "They can't hear me, what is this?" he said as he desperately looked around himself.

"Do we really have to do this?" The teen girl asked with her hand on her forehead.

"Of course!" The boy spat as he clasped his hand over the girl in blue's mouth, muffling her screams. "What do you think we should do? She knows. No one can know. So this is it. It's either her or us, and it's not gonna be us! Is it? IS IT?" he screamed.

Chris turned to run up the slope to the bridge when scraping and screaming erupted from above. Looking up, he saw the boy lift the girl in a bear hug up onto the cement wall.

"Oh my Go..!" Chris cried as the boy kicked the girl in blue off the edge. Her screaming abruptly ended as she landed with a sickening thud face down in four inches of water. Chris put his hands on his head in shock and looked up at the teens. The girl's hand had moved from her forehead to her mouth, and the boy was leaning over the wall. Grabbing the girl by the forearm, he yanked her out of sight. Footfalls quickly faded away. Looking back at the corpse, he thought he would be sick. Dropping to his knees, those spidery veins began to recede back into the handprint, bringing with it an intense, icy grip on his heart. He rolled into a ball and grimaced as his vision slowly transitioned and fog retook its rightful place.

He stood up with a start, half expecting to see that lifeless body floating before him. All that remained was a piece of driftwood and a swath of blue cloth. Slightly dizzy, he made his way back up to the bridge.

"I've got to tell somebody about this." He whispered. Looking back across the bridge to his car, he saw no reason to return. The road led into the fog, surrounded by dense trees and curved out of sight. Chris broke into a jog along the berm, attempting to put as much distance between himself and the nightmare behind him. The road seemed to be endlessly materializing. He was about to reconsider his route when something large and a darker shade of gray began to come into view. On the left side of the road, mounted on two large round wooden posts, a large sign appeared. Large, pitted and rusted hooded lamps secured to the top once illuminated it. The sign was once beautiful, with a hand-painted boarder and printing. Now it was chipped and weather worn. The writing, though aged was clear. What once was cheerful and warm, now exuded a cold malignancy.

"Welcome to Silent Hill"