Ring.
"Portland Missing Per-"
"My daughter is missing."
"What's her name, ma'am?"
"Hazel Halliwell."
That's why the voice sounded so familiar. It was her second time calling. "Ma'am, we've already got a report on her-"
Dial tone. Jacob Wells slammed the phone down and dug into the pocket on the inside of his jacket for his Marlboros. "Dammit," he muttered. "Dammit. Dammit." Aggravated, he burned his finger in the process of flicking on his lighter. "Shit," he howled.
"Watch the language, would you?"
Jacob glared at the man who stood in the doorway. "Put yourself in my position and try that," he snapped. "Who are you and what do you want?"
"I'm looking for Officer Gentry."
"You passed his office. It's up that hall and the second room to the left." The man turned to go. "Who are you?"
The man glanced at Jacob over his shoulder. "Denver Elwood. The detective you guys wanted."
When Denver Elwood left the room, Jacob snorted and successfully lit his Marlboro. "We didn't want you," he muttered. "You guys wanted to come down here."
Denver Elwood couldn't clearly remember the last time he'd been in the Portland Police Department. He knew that it'd been a very long time ago and that he was nearly fired, but the layout was something he wasn't used to, and he was sure that he'd been used to it when he worked here. The room occupied by the snappy Jacob Wells was the head office, but that was once upon a time.
"Second room on the left..."
He knocked politely.
"Who is it?"
"Detective Denver El-"
The door opened before he could finish speaking. "Denver Elwood, get in here."
Jon Gentry. He knew that face.
"What's been taking you so long?"
"Traffic." He flashed a small grin and removed his sunglasses. "That snow causes a few too many wrecks."
"Understandable. Sit Down. Please," he added quickly, remembering that Denver Elwood was no longer his employee.
Denver sat across the desk from Gentry, glancing to his right when he noticed the woman seated adjacent to him. She smiled shortly, then stared at the floor.
"I'm glad you showed up, Denver. I want you to take one of our officers with you."
"Oh." Denver raised his eyebrows. "Really."
"Really."
"Well...if they won't get in the way...I guess...that's fine."
"This is Officer Jessie Boyle."
Denver glanced at her again and offered, almost timidly, to shake her hand. She took his hand, and Gentry almost laughed at the halfhearted shake the two shared. Denver glared at Gentry, but his eyes smiled. Jessie's face reddened and she withdrew her hand quickly. Denver stood quickly, startling both Gentry and Jessie.
"Well, if it's all right, I'd like to get moving now."
"How long do you think we'll be out?" Jessie asked.
"Most of the day, but not out overnight. You don't need to bring anything. I suppose I can cover meals." He shook hands with Gentry. "Good to see you again, Jon."
"You too, Denver. Take care of yourself. And Jessie, too. Not that I think she'll need it."
Jessie smiled a little. "Goodbye, Mr. Gentry." She shook his hand over the desk and left the room after Denver.
"Did you work for him once?" Jessie asked as she trailed after Denver down the hall.
"Yeah," he replied. "For a long time. Then I became a detective."
"Whenever I hear the word detective, I always think of Sherlock Holmes, no matter how many times I've watched Law & Order and CSI."
"I'm not the only cop that watches those shows?" He looked at her over his shoulder, smiling.
Jessie grinned. "I love them. I always have, even in college."
*** ***
While the snow boots kept her feet warm and dry, they lacked any sort of traction, as Hazel learned on her third fall after she'd made it up onto the street. Someone, somewhere, ('Most likely that girl,' Hazel thought,) had to be laughing at her. When she finally found her footing on the street, she pulled out the map, turned away from the building she'd left, and held the map in front of her the way she was facing.
'Silent Hill is west of here...I'm facing south...turn right.'
She blinked.
'No...left...Then I'm going east...right? I need to go west...turn right. Right.'
She spun on her heel to the right and caught her balance before she tumbled onto the road again. Gathering her bearings, she decided on walking the side of the road, tucked her hands into the pockets of her coat, and began to walk.
'This area looked kind of empty on the train, but I never imagined it'd look so deserted.'
She passed gas stations and convenient stores on the road, but each one was consecutively emptier and in worse stages of decay. With the fourth decrepit building she passed, she suddenly remembered the box in her pocket and stopped walking to dig it out.
A blank box, wrapped in brown meat packaging paper and tied with twine. 'Looks more like it was self-wrapped and dropped off.' She tugged a loose end of the twine and stuffed the rope and paper into her pocket. The box itself was sealed with masking tape that gave way easily to her nails. She slipped apart the four panels of the box that sealed off the contents and sighed with relief at the first two objects in the box.
Two boxes of cigarettes. Her favorites ones, at that. 'Someone knows how to give a gift.' She tucked them and the lighter that followed into her pocket.
A self-defense knife. Hazel raised an eyebrow at the small blade, then stuffed it into another pocket. "Okay," she murmured.
A key. The cigarettes and lighter moved to the inside pocket of her coat and the key into their previous abode. Left now was a golden chain and a small baggy of charms for a bracelet. Hazel examined the charms in her hand-two childish, distorted human figures and three adult ones, a boy and girl, the girl set with false, lime green gemstones and the boy with blue ones, then a woman, red, and two men, both deep green. Hazel chuckled, raising little clouds at her lips, and strung the charms onto the chain that they shared the bag with. "I'm guessing you want me to wear this," she muttered, linking it around her neck.
Finally, only a letter was left. Hazel pried it gently from the bottom of the box and unfolded it gingerly.
Hazel,
It's been thirteen years since many bad things have happened, but I'm ready to make amends now. I'm waiting for you in Silent Hill if you'll come to find me. There is revenge to be served and justice to be made, but nothing will happen until you find me in Silent Hill.
I'm on the third floor of the building, but you should know that by now. But I have to keep moving, so if you don't find me in time, I'll have moved. I can't tell you just where I am, because Tom will find me then. Maybe I can leave you clues, but if Tom finds me first, we're both dead.
Look out for yourself, Hazel. If you die, then I'll never get out of here. If I never get out of here, who knows what will happen. You have many enemies and few allies.
The letter ended. Hazel reread the front page and flipped it over. Her aggravation when the letter didn't continue boiled.
"Where's the rest of the letter?" she whispered, tearing open the other end of the box and making sure there wasn't another piece of the letter she'd forgotten. As the second piece of paper left the box, her heart soared at the hope there'd be another piece of the letter, but it was only a map almost identical to the cloth one stuffed in her pocket. Paper, marked in multiple places with black and red ink. In the bottom right corner of the map were scribbled words.
'I'm still _____________________ter she's talking about really mean______r all, if she is supposed ____________fe of the g______________and why we haven't found her and raisedher____________environment she'll_____________________...'
Too many smudges of ink to be eligible...The note ended in a long smear. The only visible words towards the bottom of the notes were "fail Samael" and "White Claudia."
White Claudia.
It sounded too familiar to be a coincidence.
Hazel had been aggravated when the letter was cut off, but her aggravation at a marked-up map and a note that was too smudged to read didn't help at all. The contents of the box, save for the cigarettes and knife, returned to the box, as well as the twine and paper, and she shoved it back into the pocket.
"This is bull," she muttered. "I don't even have a brother. I'm really starting to regret leaving that church thing."
Her head was beginning to hurt again. She began to reach for a cigarette, then thought better of it and dumped two painkillers from the bag into her hand and downed them. The next thing to her lips was a familiar cigarette.
'Make it last,' she mused. 'Those freaks back there won't let you in. You've got some walking to do.'
*** ***
Neither Denver or Jessie was very up for talking, and the slow ride down the iced roads was tensely quiet save for the random music blaring on the radio. Jessie, after gaining Denver's permission, fiddled with the dial occasionally until she found a song that held her attention for a while, but when the song ended, she moved to another station. It didn't take very long for the stations to all meld together into a great mass of white noise.
"I guess the reception out here kind of sucks," she muttered.
"Yeah. Hasn't changed since the last time I was out here."
"When was that?"
"My first year as a detective. About four years ago. Missing Person's Case. I've had enough of those since September to last me a damn lifetime."
"I know what you mean," Jessie murmured. "Though I imagine you've heard about the calls we've been getting."
"How many so far?"
"Thirteen."
"Thirteen. Same here. That's just the number of the hour, isn't it?"
"More like the number of the month. Or two months." She laughed softly with her breath, bringing a small cloud of fog to life. "So...what all is down in this direction?"
"Silent Hill."
"Silent Hill? I've heard of that place. There was a huge drug bust there a while back."
"That and they get a lot of complains about vandalism. It's an almost empty town. The population is less than ten people."
"Wow," Jessie murmured, staring ahead. "What's it like?"
"It's different," Denver murmured. "To put it lightly. It's been deserted for a while. I'm not sure how long. It's a ghost town, officially, but some people still live there. We advise against it, but we can't stop them."
"I almost got to be a part of the drug bust," Jessie mused.
"Almost?"
"Yeah. I was new at the time and Gentry wanted only the vets on it if we got anyone on it at all."
"Did you get anyone on it?"
"Yeah, but he died."
"Blake?"
"Hm?"
"It was Blake Widener, wasn't it?" Denver said, meeting her gaze in the mirror.
"Yeah," Jessie said quietly. "I didn't know him very well, but people liked him. He was a nice guy."
"He was. He and I were friends for some time."
"I'm sorry you had to lose him."
"It's all right. We had a bit of a falling out after I became a detective. I hadn't talked to him for a while. Sometimes it feels like we're still just not talking to each other."
'Change the subject,' Jessie thought. 'He's obviously not comfortable with it. You'll only make things worse by forcing him to talk about it.'
"You were saying that we're most likely heading to Silent Hill," Jessie said. "Why?"
"I have a feeling that the town has something to do with it."
"Any ideas? Just a hunch?"
"This town has a big history of cult business."
Jessie began to yawn, then choked on air. "Cult?" she breathed. Denver patted her back.
"You all right?"
"Yeah. Sorry." She brushed her straight, sandy hair off her forehead and tucked it behind her ears. "Got something caught at the back of my throat."
"Do you need water?"
"No thanks. I'll be fine. You said something about a cult?"
"Yeah. I was saying that Silent Hill has a bad history of involvement with cults. You know that whole White Claudia business?"
"Yeah?"
"That started because of a cult in Silent Hill called 'The Order' or something like that. They caused a bunch of hell with the White Claudia. When we got a hold of a few members of that thing, they rambled on about how it would allow them to control the minds of people. They were trying to take over the world, or something along those lines."
"Sounds familiar," Jessie scoffed. "Typical cult business."
"Can't expect much else. Those people are dangerous, though. They've killed too many people. They're serious about making sacrifices and the destruction of all those who oppose and all the etceteras."
"Yeah," Jessie murmured. "They seem to be. I thought they disbanded with the last drug bust."
"I highly doubt it. They may have lost most of their backup and members, but I have a feeling that a few loyals are still together, keeping the spirit alive. It wouldn't be above them."
Jessie smiled a little. "You really don't like them."
"I despise them." Denver's face hardened.
"I lost my mother to them," Jessie admitted. Denver glanced at her, then back to the road. "She went to Silent Hill for a vacation about...eleven or twelve years ago. Never came back. Some time after that I drove down with my dad to find her, and when we stopped at a gas station, there was a group of weird looking people hanging around the area. They knew who we were...they came up to us, gave us a package from my mom, and wouldn't let us drive any further. When we opened the parcel, it was a few things from my mom...her jewelry, photos of her and of us, and a letter, saying that she had joined the cult and this was the last time she'd be able to communicate with us unless we joined the cult as well."
Denver didn't reply. He kept his gaze on the road ahead of him. Finally, after long, tense moments of silence, he spoke. "I've lost many friends to this cult," he said quietly. "I know how you're feeling, Jessie."
Jessie looked down at her legs and laced her fingers together. "I'd like to see my mother again."
"I can't help you very much with that," Denver said. "But I'll try."
Jessie would have thanked him, but the static on Denver's radio began to swell in volume. Jessie reached for the volume dial to turn it down before it grew unbearable, but no matter how she turned it, it continued to crescendo to the unbearable volume Jessie had attempted to dodge.
*** ***
Hazel's headache returned of a sudden with a doubled force that made her groan and collapse to her knees in the snow. She couldn't reach the painkillers in time, and she suddenly recognized the white noise of the previous hours blaring in her mind like someone had set a radio in her brain to full volume on a station that didn't exist.
"What the hell happened?"
"I don't know, it won't go down."
Hazel groaned, clutching her head and burying her face in her arms.
"Do you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"Shh..."
It faded, almost as quickly as it had come over her. Hazel rose gingerly, one hand over her ear as her head ached dully. "Ow," she muttered.
"Make them last," the girl had told her.
"Yeah, well, I bet her brain didn't spontaneously explode," Hazel muttered as she stuffed a third painkiller into her mouth, followed by a cigarette to her lips. She stopped herself before lighting it and stuffed it back into the pack. "Bad Hazel," she muttered to herself. "No cigarette."
*** ***
The moment the radio returned to her control, Jessie quickly shut it off. "Did you hear that?"
"I heard someone crying," Denver murmured.
"Crying? I heard some groaning...like they were in pain."
"Which one of us is going insane?" Denver managed a small smile.
Jessie shrugged back into the chair and tucked her hands into her pockets. "I've heard rumors about Silent Hill before."
"There's a lot of them. Why didn't you tell me before?"
"You'd laugh at me."
"Laugh? No. Tell me what you've heard."
"Typical rumors. It's hell on earth. If you go there, it'll swallow you whole. Whoever goes there doesn't come back."
"I wouldn't say they don't come back. I mean...we haven't lost many people to Silent Hill. But they don't always come back to us completely intact. Maybe they're wounded, and they're too scared to tell us what happened. Maybe they come back as utter nut cases. But that was all back when the cult was in order and we didn't know what to do with them, though."
"There's not much to worry about now?"
"I wouldn't have let you come if I was that worried about your safety."
Jessie frowned. 'Makes sense.'
"Worried about it?" Denver asked.
"No," Jessie said shortly. Denver only smiled.
"Me too," he said. "It's a freaky place. All I can tell you is to watch my back and I'll watch yours."
"I'll keep that in mind." Jessie cupped her face in her gloved hands to warm her cheeks. "Detective Elwood-"
"Hey. What's with this "Detective Elwood' business? My name's Denver."
"Sorry. Denver?"
"Yeah?"
"What happened to Silent Hill?"
He watched the road thoughtfully. "Good question. I'm not too keen on the history. There's a historical society somewhere along the outskirts of the town, though. I'm sure they'll have things for you to look at there."
After his statement, there was another bout of untimely silence, tense and aggravating but satisfying the way that both Jessie and Denver knew the other one was looking for conversation as well. Jessie's eyes flicked up from the floor, and she began to speak until she noticed something blocking the road up ahead.
"Denver-"
"Yeah...I see it."
Cows, blocking the middle of the road. Jessie groaned, and Denver applied a slight pressure to the brakes.
"Lucky we spotted it so early," Denver muttered. "If we'd hit them, they'dve done more damage to the car than I would've done to them."
The car slowed to a gentle stop measured meters from the herd of cows, and Denver guided it carefully to the side of the road, out of the way of any cars unfortunate enough to be travelling his same road. A sudden jolt that knocked Jessie from her seat informed the both of them that something had gone wrong.
"You're off the road," Jessie said. "I think."
"Shit," Denver cursed. He turned the keys in the ignition, tugged them out, dropped them into his pocket, and attempted to open his door.
"Snow bank," Jessie murmured.
"Gorgeous. You must be able to tell I'm not used to driving in snow."
"Yeah. I can tell. You did pretty good on the road, though." She tried her own door, but it held against the snow. "Are the back ones jammed?"
"Might as well find out." He undid the safety belt impatiently. The clack of the metal belt against the cold glass window made Jessie wince, but Denver ignored it, turned in his chair, reached into the back seat, and tried the door behind him. Jessie followed his suite.
"Negative," Denver said.
"Same here. Guess we're crawling out the windows."
Denver looked at his window, then at Jessie. "We'd have to cut half the door away for me to get out of this."
Jessie flashed a grin at him, her first that Denver could remember. "Nah." She twirled the window bar till it opened completely, but it jammed halfway down. "I agree completely."
Denver rubbed his chin. "I guess this is my fault for getting us stuck in the snow bank."
"Putting a blame on someone won't solve anything. How new is this car?"
"How new does it look?"
"Sorry...that was a redundant question. Better question-how much do you love this car and how much would it hurt to get new windows?"
"What are you suggesting?"
Jessie removed a rolled up beret from her jacket pocket and pulled it over her straight hair. "Do any of these windows roll down completely?"
"No. Explains why I made the reference to cutting away half of the car door."
"Can we break the windows?"
Denver turned his head from the window and looked at her oddly. "Are you kidding?"
"I'm being perfectly serious. You don't have any shovels or anything in here with you, so there's no way we can move the snow through the window; our arms aren't long enough. The only way we'll get out is by breaking the windows."
"You're insane."
"Possibly." She shivered from the cold. "How far away is Silent Hill?"
"Well...we've been moving walking or jogging distance down this road for about two hours, right?"
"Right."
"I'd say not even thirty minutes."
"Good. We can walk from here."
"The car will be filled with snow when we get back."
"We can't get the car out of the snow bank now, and the snow won't let up for a long time. It's either go do what we set out to do or sit here and wait for some...two odd hours to get someone back to us."
"We can at least call," Denver suggested, and reached for the com-radio.
"Can we connect out here?"
Fuzz from the radio filled their ears.
"No," Denver said dryly.
"Maybe our phones will have some reception out here."
"Doubt it."
Jessie shifted on the car seat to remove the gray phone from her back pocket. She flipped it open. "It's not even on." She tapped the rubbery power button that topped the phone with her thumbnail. "It won't turn on."
"Dead battery?"
"I just charged it last night," Jessie murmured, shifting again to slip the phone back into her hind pocket. Denver removed his own phone from the front pocket of the jacket.
"Mine's on...the lights are on...but there's nothing on the screen." He tapped the power button. "It won't turn off."
"Wonderful. I still say we break the windows and get out of here."
"I'd have to agree now that I see out situation. It's gonna be damn cold when we get back."
"It's fine with me," Jessie said, shrugging. "What should we break the windows with?"
"Gun," Denver said simply.
((AN: Just recently fixed a very stupid mistake in here. Hopefully you caught it, but then again, hopefully you didn't. I'm stupid, just leave me alone.))
"Portland Missing Per-"
"My daughter is missing."
"What's her name, ma'am?"
"Hazel Halliwell."
That's why the voice sounded so familiar. It was her second time calling. "Ma'am, we've already got a report on her-"
Dial tone. Jacob Wells slammed the phone down and dug into the pocket on the inside of his jacket for his Marlboros. "Dammit," he muttered. "Dammit. Dammit." Aggravated, he burned his finger in the process of flicking on his lighter. "Shit," he howled.
"Watch the language, would you?"
Jacob glared at the man who stood in the doorway. "Put yourself in my position and try that," he snapped. "Who are you and what do you want?"
"I'm looking for Officer Gentry."
"You passed his office. It's up that hall and the second room to the left." The man turned to go. "Who are you?"
The man glanced at Jacob over his shoulder. "Denver Elwood. The detective you guys wanted."
When Denver Elwood left the room, Jacob snorted and successfully lit his Marlboro. "We didn't want you," he muttered. "You guys wanted to come down here."
Denver Elwood couldn't clearly remember the last time he'd been in the Portland Police Department. He knew that it'd been a very long time ago and that he was nearly fired, but the layout was something he wasn't used to, and he was sure that he'd been used to it when he worked here. The room occupied by the snappy Jacob Wells was the head office, but that was once upon a time.
"Second room on the left..."
He knocked politely.
"Who is it?"
"Detective Denver El-"
The door opened before he could finish speaking. "Denver Elwood, get in here."
Jon Gentry. He knew that face.
"What's been taking you so long?"
"Traffic." He flashed a small grin and removed his sunglasses. "That snow causes a few too many wrecks."
"Understandable. Sit Down. Please," he added quickly, remembering that Denver Elwood was no longer his employee.
Denver sat across the desk from Gentry, glancing to his right when he noticed the woman seated adjacent to him. She smiled shortly, then stared at the floor.
"I'm glad you showed up, Denver. I want you to take one of our officers with you."
"Oh." Denver raised his eyebrows. "Really."
"Really."
"Well...if they won't get in the way...I guess...that's fine."
"This is Officer Jessie Boyle."
Denver glanced at her again and offered, almost timidly, to shake her hand. She took his hand, and Gentry almost laughed at the halfhearted shake the two shared. Denver glared at Gentry, but his eyes smiled. Jessie's face reddened and she withdrew her hand quickly. Denver stood quickly, startling both Gentry and Jessie.
"Well, if it's all right, I'd like to get moving now."
"How long do you think we'll be out?" Jessie asked.
"Most of the day, but not out overnight. You don't need to bring anything. I suppose I can cover meals." He shook hands with Gentry. "Good to see you again, Jon."
"You too, Denver. Take care of yourself. And Jessie, too. Not that I think she'll need it."
Jessie smiled a little. "Goodbye, Mr. Gentry." She shook his hand over the desk and left the room after Denver.
"Did you work for him once?" Jessie asked as she trailed after Denver down the hall.
"Yeah," he replied. "For a long time. Then I became a detective."
"Whenever I hear the word detective, I always think of Sherlock Holmes, no matter how many times I've watched Law & Order and CSI."
"I'm not the only cop that watches those shows?" He looked at her over his shoulder, smiling.
Jessie grinned. "I love them. I always have, even in college."
*** ***
While the snow boots kept her feet warm and dry, they lacked any sort of traction, as Hazel learned on her third fall after she'd made it up onto the street. Someone, somewhere, ('Most likely that girl,' Hazel thought,) had to be laughing at her. When she finally found her footing on the street, she pulled out the map, turned away from the building she'd left, and held the map in front of her the way she was facing.
'Silent Hill is west of here...I'm facing south...turn right.'
She blinked.
'No...left...Then I'm going east...right? I need to go west...turn right. Right.'
She spun on her heel to the right and caught her balance before she tumbled onto the road again. Gathering her bearings, she decided on walking the side of the road, tucked her hands into the pockets of her coat, and began to walk.
'This area looked kind of empty on the train, but I never imagined it'd look so deserted.'
She passed gas stations and convenient stores on the road, but each one was consecutively emptier and in worse stages of decay. With the fourth decrepit building she passed, she suddenly remembered the box in her pocket and stopped walking to dig it out.
A blank box, wrapped in brown meat packaging paper and tied with twine. 'Looks more like it was self-wrapped and dropped off.' She tugged a loose end of the twine and stuffed the rope and paper into her pocket. The box itself was sealed with masking tape that gave way easily to her nails. She slipped apart the four panels of the box that sealed off the contents and sighed with relief at the first two objects in the box.
Two boxes of cigarettes. Her favorites ones, at that. 'Someone knows how to give a gift.' She tucked them and the lighter that followed into her pocket.
A self-defense knife. Hazel raised an eyebrow at the small blade, then stuffed it into another pocket. "Okay," she murmured.
A key. The cigarettes and lighter moved to the inside pocket of her coat and the key into their previous abode. Left now was a golden chain and a small baggy of charms for a bracelet. Hazel examined the charms in her hand-two childish, distorted human figures and three adult ones, a boy and girl, the girl set with false, lime green gemstones and the boy with blue ones, then a woman, red, and two men, both deep green. Hazel chuckled, raising little clouds at her lips, and strung the charms onto the chain that they shared the bag with. "I'm guessing you want me to wear this," she muttered, linking it around her neck.
Finally, only a letter was left. Hazel pried it gently from the bottom of the box and unfolded it gingerly.
Hazel,
It's been thirteen years since many bad things have happened, but I'm ready to make amends now. I'm waiting for you in Silent Hill if you'll come to find me. There is revenge to be served and justice to be made, but nothing will happen until you find me in Silent Hill.
I'm on the third floor of the building, but you should know that by now. But I have to keep moving, so if you don't find me in time, I'll have moved. I can't tell you just where I am, because Tom will find me then. Maybe I can leave you clues, but if Tom finds me first, we're both dead.
Look out for yourself, Hazel. If you die, then I'll never get out of here. If I never get out of here, who knows what will happen. You have many enemies and few allies.
The letter ended. Hazel reread the front page and flipped it over. Her aggravation when the letter didn't continue boiled.
"Where's the rest of the letter?" she whispered, tearing open the other end of the box and making sure there wasn't another piece of the letter she'd forgotten. As the second piece of paper left the box, her heart soared at the hope there'd be another piece of the letter, but it was only a map almost identical to the cloth one stuffed in her pocket. Paper, marked in multiple places with black and red ink. In the bottom right corner of the map were scribbled words.
'I'm still _____________________ter she's talking about really mean______r all, if she is supposed ____________fe of the g______________and why we haven't found her and raisedher____________environment she'll_____________________...'
Too many smudges of ink to be eligible...The note ended in a long smear. The only visible words towards the bottom of the notes were "fail Samael" and "White Claudia."
White Claudia.
It sounded too familiar to be a coincidence.
Hazel had been aggravated when the letter was cut off, but her aggravation at a marked-up map and a note that was too smudged to read didn't help at all. The contents of the box, save for the cigarettes and knife, returned to the box, as well as the twine and paper, and she shoved it back into the pocket.
"This is bull," she muttered. "I don't even have a brother. I'm really starting to regret leaving that church thing."
Her head was beginning to hurt again. She began to reach for a cigarette, then thought better of it and dumped two painkillers from the bag into her hand and downed them. The next thing to her lips was a familiar cigarette.
'Make it last,' she mused. 'Those freaks back there won't let you in. You've got some walking to do.'
*** ***
Neither Denver or Jessie was very up for talking, and the slow ride down the iced roads was tensely quiet save for the random music blaring on the radio. Jessie, after gaining Denver's permission, fiddled with the dial occasionally until she found a song that held her attention for a while, but when the song ended, she moved to another station. It didn't take very long for the stations to all meld together into a great mass of white noise.
"I guess the reception out here kind of sucks," she muttered.
"Yeah. Hasn't changed since the last time I was out here."
"When was that?"
"My first year as a detective. About four years ago. Missing Person's Case. I've had enough of those since September to last me a damn lifetime."
"I know what you mean," Jessie murmured. "Though I imagine you've heard about the calls we've been getting."
"How many so far?"
"Thirteen."
"Thirteen. Same here. That's just the number of the hour, isn't it?"
"More like the number of the month. Or two months." She laughed softly with her breath, bringing a small cloud of fog to life. "So...what all is down in this direction?"
"Silent Hill."
"Silent Hill? I've heard of that place. There was a huge drug bust there a while back."
"That and they get a lot of complains about vandalism. It's an almost empty town. The population is less than ten people."
"Wow," Jessie murmured, staring ahead. "What's it like?"
"It's different," Denver murmured. "To put it lightly. It's been deserted for a while. I'm not sure how long. It's a ghost town, officially, but some people still live there. We advise against it, but we can't stop them."
"I almost got to be a part of the drug bust," Jessie mused.
"Almost?"
"Yeah. I was new at the time and Gentry wanted only the vets on it if we got anyone on it at all."
"Did you get anyone on it?"
"Yeah, but he died."
"Blake?"
"Hm?"
"It was Blake Widener, wasn't it?" Denver said, meeting her gaze in the mirror.
"Yeah," Jessie said quietly. "I didn't know him very well, but people liked him. He was a nice guy."
"He was. He and I were friends for some time."
"I'm sorry you had to lose him."
"It's all right. We had a bit of a falling out after I became a detective. I hadn't talked to him for a while. Sometimes it feels like we're still just not talking to each other."
'Change the subject,' Jessie thought. 'He's obviously not comfortable with it. You'll only make things worse by forcing him to talk about it.'
"You were saying that we're most likely heading to Silent Hill," Jessie said. "Why?"
"I have a feeling that the town has something to do with it."
"Any ideas? Just a hunch?"
"This town has a big history of cult business."
Jessie began to yawn, then choked on air. "Cult?" she breathed. Denver patted her back.
"You all right?"
"Yeah. Sorry." She brushed her straight, sandy hair off her forehead and tucked it behind her ears. "Got something caught at the back of my throat."
"Do you need water?"
"No thanks. I'll be fine. You said something about a cult?"
"Yeah. I was saying that Silent Hill has a bad history of involvement with cults. You know that whole White Claudia business?"
"Yeah?"
"That started because of a cult in Silent Hill called 'The Order' or something like that. They caused a bunch of hell with the White Claudia. When we got a hold of a few members of that thing, they rambled on about how it would allow them to control the minds of people. They were trying to take over the world, or something along those lines."
"Sounds familiar," Jessie scoffed. "Typical cult business."
"Can't expect much else. Those people are dangerous, though. They've killed too many people. They're serious about making sacrifices and the destruction of all those who oppose and all the etceteras."
"Yeah," Jessie murmured. "They seem to be. I thought they disbanded with the last drug bust."
"I highly doubt it. They may have lost most of their backup and members, but I have a feeling that a few loyals are still together, keeping the spirit alive. It wouldn't be above them."
Jessie smiled a little. "You really don't like them."
"I despise them." Denver's face hardened.
"I lost my mother to them," Jessie admitted. Denver glanced at her, then back to the road. "She went to Silent Hill for a vacation about...eleven or twelve years ago. Never came back. Some time after that I drove down with my dad to find her, and when we stopped at a gas station, there was a group of weird looking people hanging around the area. They knew who we were...they came up to us, gave us a package from my mom, and wouldn't let us drive any further. When we opened the parcel, it was a few things from my mom...her jewelry, photos of her and of us, and a letter, saying that she had joined the cult and this was the last time she'd be able to communicate with us unless we joined the cult as well."
Denver didn't reply. He kept his gaze on the road ahead of him. Finally, after long, tense moments of silence, he spoke. "I've lost many friends to this cult," he said quietly. "I know how you're feeling, Jessie."
Jessie looked down at her legs and laced her fingers together. "I'd like to see my mother again."
"I can't help you very much with that," Denver said. "But I'll try."
Jessie would have thanked him, but the static on Denver's radio began to swell in volume. Jessie reached for the volume dial to turn it down before it grew unbearable, but no matter how she turned it, it continued to crescendo to the unbearable volume Jessie had attempted to dodge.
*** ***
Hazel's headache returned of a sudden with a doubled force that made her groan and collapse to her knees in the snow. She couldn't reach the painkillers in time, and she suddenly recognized the white noise of the previous hours blaring in her mind like someone had set a radio in her brain to full volume on a station that didn't exist.
"What the hell happened?"
"I don't know, it won't go down."
Hazel groaned, clutching her head and burying her face in her arms.
"Do you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"Shh..."
It faded, almost as quickly as it had come over her. Hazel rose gingerly, one hand over her ear as her head ached dully. "Ow," she muttered.
"Make them last," the girl had told her.
"Yeah, well, I bet her brain didn't spontaneously explode," Hazel muttered as she stuffed a third painkiller into her mouth, followed by a cigarette to her lips. She stopped herself before lighting it and stuffed it back into the pack. "Bad Hazel," she muttered to herself. "No cigarette."
*** ***
The moment the radio returned to her control, Jessie quickly shut it off. "Did you hear that?"
"I heard someone crying," Denver murmured.
"Crying? I heard some groaning...like they were in pain."
"Which one of us is going insane?" Denver managed a small smile.
Jessie shrugged back into the chair and tucked her hands into her pockets. "I've heard rumors about Silent Hill before."
"There's a lot of them. Why didn't you tell me before?"
"You'd laugh at me."
"Laugh? No. Tell me what you've heard."
"Typical rumors. It's hell on earth. If you go there, it'll swallow you whole. Whoever goes there doesn't come back."
"I wouldn't say they don't come back. I mean...we haven't lost many people to Silent Hill. But they don't always come back to us completely intact. Maybe they're wounded, and they're too scared to tell us what happened. Maybe they come back as utter nut cases. But that was all back when the cult was in order and we didn't know what to do with them, though."
"There's not much to worry about now?"
"I wouldn't have let you come if I was that worried about your safety."
Jessie frowned. 'Makes sense.'
"Worried about it?" Denver asked.
"No," Jessie said shortly. Denver only smiled.
"Me too," he said. "It's a freaky place. All I can tell you is to watch my back and I'll watch yours."
"I'll keep that in mind." Jessie cupped her face in her gloved hands to warm her cheeks. "Detective Elwood-"
"Hey. What's with this "Detective Elwood' business? My name's Denver."
"Sorry. Denver?"
"Yeah?"
"What happened to Silent Hill?"
He watched the road thoughtfully. "Good question. I'm not too keen on the history. There's a historical society somewhere along the outskirts of the town, though. I'm sure they'll have things for you to look at there."
After his statement, there was another bout of untimely silence, tense and aggravating but satisfying the way that both Jessie and Denver knew the other one was looking for conversation as well. Jessie's eyes flicked up from the floor, and she began to speak until she noticed something blocking the road up ahead.
"Denver-"
"Yeah...I see it."
Cows, blocking the middle of the road. Jessie groaned, and Denver applied a slight pressure to the brakes.
"Lucky we spotted it so early," Denver muttered. "If we'd hit them, they'dve done more damage to the car than I would've done to them."
The car slowed to a gentle stop measured meters from the herd of cows, and Denver guided it carefully to the side of the road, out of the way of any cars unfortunate enough to be travelling his same road. A sudden jolt that knocked Jessie from her seat informed the both of them that something had gone wrong.
"You're off the road," Jessie said. "I think."
"Shit," Denver cursed. He turned the keys in the ignition, tugged them out, dropped them into his pocket, and attempted to open his door.
"Snow bank," Jessie murmured.
"Gorgeous. You must be able to tell I'm not used to driving in snow."
"Yeah. I can tell. You did pretty good on the road, though." She tried her own door, but it held against the snow. "Are the back ones jammed?"
"Might as well find out." He undid the safety belt impatiently. The clack of the metal belt against the cold glass window made Jessie wince, but Denver ignored it, turned in his chair, reached into the back seat, and tried the door behind him. Jessie followed his suite.
"Negative," Denver said.
"Same here. Guess we're crawling out the windows."
Denver looked at his window, then at Jessie. "We'd have to cut half the door away for me to get out of this."
Jessie flashed a grin at him, her first that Denver could remember. "Nah." She twirled the window bar till it opened completely, but it jammed halfway down. "I agree completely."
Denver rubbed his chin. "I guess this is my fault for getting us stuck in the snow bank."
"Putting a blame on someone won't solve anything. How new is this car?"
"How new does it look?"
"Sorry...that was a redundant question. Better question-how much do you love this car and how much would it hurt to get new windows?"
"What are you suggesting?"
Jessie removed a rolled up beret from her jacket pocket and pulled it over her straight hair. "Do any of these windows roll down completely?"
"No. Explains why I made the reference to cutting away half of the car door."
"Can we break the windows?"
Denver turned his head from the window and looked at her oddly. "Are you kidding?"
"I'm being perfectly serious. You don't have any shovels or anything in here with you, so there's no way we can move the snow through the window; our arms aren't long enough. The only way we'll get out is by breaking the windows."
"You're insane."
"Possibly." She shivered from the cold. "How far away is Silent Hill?"
"Well...we've been moving walking or jogging distance down this road for about two hours, right?"
"Right."
"I'd say not even thirty minutes."
"Good. We can walk from here."
"The car will be filled with snow when we get back."
"We can't get the car out of the snow bank now, and the snow won't let up for a long time. It's either go do what we set out to do or sit here and wait for some...two odd hours to get someone back to us."
"We can at least call," Denver suggested, and reached for the com-radio.
"Can we connect out here?"
Fuzz from the radio filled their ears.
"No," Denver said dryly.
"Maybe our phones will have some reception out here."
"Doubt it."
Jessie shifted on the car seat to remove the gray phone from her back pocket. She flipped it open. "It's not even on." She tapped the rubbery power button that topped the phone with her thumbnail. "It won't turn on."
"Dead battery?"
"I just charged it last night," Jessie murmured, shifting again to slip the phone back into her hind pocket. Denver removed his own phone from the front pocket of the jacket.
"Mine's on...the lights are on...but there's nothing on the screen." He tapped the power button. "It won't turn off."
"Wonderful. I still say we break the windows and get out of here."
"I'd have to agree now that I see out situation. It's gonna be damn cold when we get back."
"It's fine with me," Jessie said, shrugging. "What should we break the windows with?"
"Gun," Denver said simply.
((AN: Just recently fixed a very stupid mistake in here. Hopefully you caught it, but then again, hopefully you didn't. I'm stupid, just leave me alone.))