As soon as I was in the house, I collapsed back onto the front foor and watched the breath create swirls of mist before me. Beyond it, I saw my reflection in the glass door, and began laughing. Again, I didn't know why. Perhaps it was a stress response, perhaps it was tiredness. Perhaps it was the rather unusual man who seemed smart enough to know where he was, but acted as though he'd simply stumbled upon a random little place by accident every week. Maybe he did, perhaps he was mad.
Too many uncertainties surrounding that man, I mused, and pushed myself from the door with my foot and slipped the damp boots and coat away. I padded down the empty hallway pensively; it was too quiet. The quiet made me a little more weary now. I shook of the thought and switched the tv on, flicking through so not to land on a news report about the shocking snow.
"...police say it truly is a mystery, and have offered no other information on the disappearances..."
I caught myself and flicked back quickly, and glued my eyes to the screen in interest.
"The families are, quite naturally, very distressed," the blond reporter explained, "but they have been assured that the force are doing all they can. But one question is hanging in the air. Is any child safe?"
The question lingered for a moment, and I hastily switched to the next channel. "So dramatic," I mused to myself. They were making it sound like the child catcher was being let loose. But...it did sound similar to what happened to the boy, Simon. Could it be happening in other places...? More children going missing?
My thoughts were interrupted with a knocking on the door, and I glanced out of the window. It was dark, but no car in the drive way. I sighed, and stood, and could have sworn that coat tails were flapping in the edge of the window, behind the wall. I opened the door just a touch, suddenly on guard. "Hello?"
"Oh! Hello!"
The cheery voice was unmistakable, as was the awkwardly grinning face beneath the messy hair, black and spiky in the damp snow. "Hello," I laughed again, forgetting my unease.
Silence fell for a moment, and I waited for an explanation. He seemed to reawaken in response to my silent question. "Oh, yes. Erm, not following you, don't worry. This just seems to be the only occupied house at the moment, doesn't it seem?"
I stepped around him out on to the door step and glanced up and down the street. Any other house would be lit with a glow behind the curtain, or a golden light shining through the windows of the doors. Each house was dead, empty. Not a car in sight. "Oh," I breathed. "Maybe theyre finally enjoying the weather?" I reasoned, but my answer resonated against the silence; I would be able to hear the screams and laughter from here.
"Not a soul," his voice quietly informed. I turned to look at him, and met his brown eyes, seriousness flecking within them. I went back inside, and pulled my coat and boots back on. "There's got to be at least one," I argued, against him or myself, I was unsure, and led the way down the drive from the clicking of the door. I wrapped my arms around myself as I walked, though I wasn't cold. With each corner that I saw a blacked out house, I shiver ran down my spine.
"I was watching the news, apparently kids have been going missing."
"I heard."
"You did?"
His footsteps scraped in the snow and fell into sync with hers. "Why do you think I'm here?" His grim voice quizzed.
"Accident?"
He smiled a self conscious, contagious smile again, lowing his head in thought. "Well, yes, but not totally by accident. All this kind of stuff happens in London."
"That's why I moved."
"You lived in London?" He suddenly jumped at the new information with more interest than it merited. "Yep," I said, popping the 'p', "and too much weird stuff happened. Scotland it much more...rural. Quieter. Its not particularly interesting, but its safer."
At least thats what I thought.
"So, you some kind of investigator?"
He made a thoughtful noise, as though weening out a better term, and his face fell when he couldn't find one. "It makes me sound like im from a cheesy 70's tv show, but yeah, sort of."
"Ok, the type that investigates disappearances in Scotland when they're only supposed to be happening in London? Or is that police information?"
"Do you know something?"
The question shocked me a little, because I didn't think he would catch on. I slowed my step with his, and soon we were standing still. "I...I think I know what's taking them."
His eyes grew dark and more serious, and that only made me doubt by sensationalist explanation.
"A kid early, not long before you found me, he lost his mum. We looked in the woods and he said he'd found her, but the woman he went to...she was strange. Then they both vanished."
"You saw them vanish?"
"No, no," I rushed, "I looked away for a second because I heard a voice next to me, but I looked back instantly and the space was empty."
He examined my face for a moment, and leaned back on his heels. Suddenly his demeanour changed to one of nonchalance. He threw out his hand and grinned like an erratic child. "Then lets go find him, Mia Morton!"
I took it, and we were running, and I knew deep down that I could trust this stranger with my life, John Smith or no John Smith.