She led them to all the way back to the front of the mall, and specifically, to the playground.
The wide, circular pen was set lower than the ground floor by two short, carpeted steps. Four tall and fat simplistic animals spaced themselves in a circle of their own, carved from wood and coated in a protective varnish perfect for withstanding rough treatment. Two metal benches flanked the playground for watchful guardians to make sure their children weren't getting into trouble or breaking any limbs. The men trudged to the bench planted in front of the arcade.
Its placement directly faced the mall exit, but it was obscured by a large, towering elephant.
The girl clamored up the elephant and sat upon its flat, smooth back. She situated herself before the aforementioned bench, but twisted to look around at the other beasts - a panther, rhino, and giraffe - then glanced at the doors far behind her. Finally, her eyes fell upon the two beaten-down men.
Harry looked down at the metal seat. Each side was occupied by trash. The end where he stood were two neglected ice cream cups stuffed with bunched paper napkins. Nameless and hot pink, the bowls were identical in appearance, though one was clearly meant for an adult, and the second suitable for a child. The distance between the companions suggested that two people had once sat there side-by-side to enjoy their treat. When they'd finished, they'd apparently been thoughtless enough to leave their evidence behind for someone else to clean up.
Harry couldn't recall if he and Cheryl had ever been in too much of a hurry to forget to throw their trash away.
On the other side lay a pair of white, condiment-stained hot dog boats, their used napkins also telling of a couple who'd forgotten their manners.
James hatefully ignored it.
Harry felt thirty years older as he sat down between the disposable bowls. Folding his hands over the upright pipe betwixt his legs made him look the part, too. The tired, so tired father stared at the swirls and dark knots in the elephant's side. James lingered at the opposing end, diligently looking away from the remains of a lunch past.
Soon, he lowered himself to the seat, holding his shotgun across his lap. His eyes then lifted to the girl thudding her heels. They scrutinized one another, engaging in a mistrustful, silent conversation until the girl of many faces spoke.
"You guys shouldn't be here."
An awkward lull followed. Silent Hill's two emissaries expected wit from the outsider, but it seemed he wasn't yet in the mood. It took Harry an unanticipated length of time to draw up his head and orient his stare on the girl. She half heartedly kicked her feet, meeting his eyes; she was waiting for him. He seemed to know it, and obliged her.
"Do you have any other breaking news for us, or are you gonna rehash what we already know?"
The girl, strangely, seemed to relax. "I meant here, in the mall. You're too early."
Twin consternation reflected on her audience. "Excuse me?"
"Silent Hill doesn't want you here yet. You're lucky—"
"That's one I haven't heard before. We're too early? For fucking what? A parade? Jesus Christ! What next? This is starting to feel like overkill."
Peevishly ticking her head to the side, she prepared to retort, but as he was infamous for, Harry interrupted. "And another thing," he snarled, his body language taking a swift 180 from sapped to punitive, adopting a recline that all but shouted, 'fuck you.' "Aren't you from the hotel? Didn't you die in the fire?"
She glowered flatly at him, but seemed caught and stilted. "That's not relevant," she sassed. "For your information, you actually don't need to know everything and accept some things at face value."
He sneered back at her. "Bullshit. Some things need answers. I think this is one of them."
"No, not really."
"I'm waiting."
"You'll be waiting a long time, then," the girl haughtily replied. "I'm not gonna give you an answer."
"You little witch," Harry hissed. "After that cute little act back there, I think you owe us that, at the very least."
She scoffed, tossing her head back, blonde ponytail swaying. "Uuuhhm, no."
James watched the widowed father fold his arms, the pipe left to rest on his inner thigh. Laura and Harry stubbornly glared at one another; this tiff was going to severely delay them and go nowhere. He looked up at her.
"I think you do."
Her eyes snapped to his. Their pithy duel lasted a few seconds before she conceded. "Fine." She stared down at her thumping feet, sighing irritably. "I.. can't really tell you anything, and I'm serious about that. I'm not even supposed to be here right now. Okay? It's complicated." A pointed look went to James. "Just. Leave me alone about it. I'm trying to help you. So the only thing I can say is, uh, sorry? Don't take it personal."
Harry harshly laughed. "Yeah, no, of course. No offense taken. That was a hell of a non-answer."
"Deal with it. I said I can't tell you anything."
"Get bent."
"Is this how you normally talk to children?"
"Oh, honey, I highly doubt you're—"
"Hey." James returned the dull glare Harry fixed upon him. "Can we move on?"
"Yeah, can we?" the girl huffed. Conceit spread her smirk, but it was quickly dashed by James turning his blunt look at her too.
"Knock it off. Get to it."
"Hmph." Laura drew a breath that slumped her posture. "Anyway, like I was saying, you're not supposed to be here yet and you're lucky Silent Hill hasn't noticed you yet, either," she snipped. The girl shot a glance at the conduit. Harry also stole a sidelong look at James after her example.
Her recurring attention on James didn't sit right with Harry. James sat in silence, bearing a stern, impenetrable mask. The girl then continued. "But we don't have time to talk about the specifics. If—"
"Tell me one good reason why we should trust you on this," Harry intervened once again. The residents of Silent Hill sighed hard in unison. "You played tricks on us back at the hotel, and if I recall correctly, tried to burn us to a crisp, too. And you just fucked around and did your little switcharoo bullshit with Cheryl and whomever that other girl is you're on right now. I'm getting mixed messages here. Not to mention, if Silent Hill isn't paying attention to us, then where did this come from?" he added, gesturing to the trash. "You can't seriously tell me this just popped out of thin air without Silent Hill doing it. That doesn't fit the usual bill."
Laura angrily struck her heels on the elephant, wholly fed up with his perceived entitlement. "Like I said," she ground out, "we don't have time to get into specifics. Didn't we waste enough of it already? You are such a thorn in everyone's side, Harry Mason," accused the pawn. "Some things here aren't as straightforward as you think, and maybe you use your brains sometimes and think outside of the box. Do we have to keep going over it?"
He scowled at her. "Don't patronize me," he hissed. "If you're half as observant as you suggest, you'd know I think way too much and six yards outside the box about this place. I'm no fucking expert here, but I like to think I can manage critical thinking just fine."
Though she turned up her nose and challenged him over her cheekbones, she clearly intended to not take the bait and put the topic to rest. "An-e-way," she snootily enunciated, "like I said, for like the fifth time, you shouldn't be here, and you need to go away right now. Ugh, do you really have to keep asking questions?!" The false Laura exasperated at Harry's preparation to speak. Slouching under a sigh, she flicked her eyes sourly to James. "Can you make him shut up?!"
James sneered. "Not even if I tried." A bare shake of his head. "Doesn't matter. If we're supposed to leave, can we go now?"
The vision of Laura dissipated. A child neither of them knew manifested in her wake, quickly dismantling their combative tempers and piquing their tentative interest.
Sullen and solemn perched a deathly pale girl no older than ten. Faded, milky blonde hair draped plain and straight over her bony shoulders, her glazed brown eyes set on the empty segment of the bench between the men.
She was swathed in a long dress, dark and drab, and there was a long sleeved ivory blouse she wore beneath the frock too big for her. It was buttoned by its Peter Pan collar snug 'round her neck, where a limp, red ribbon, as thin as she, was the only color. White tights hung a little loose on wiry legs and wrinkled where they were tucked into hand-me-down Mary Janes. The whole ensemble made her look younger than she possibly was, and hopeless to ever grow into her clothes.
With hunched shoulders, she tried to make herself as small as possible. Harry and James suddenly felt walled in, sitting behind a one-way mirror as spectators to an invisible interrogation. No one else was there but they, yet the two felt the presence of multiple, loathing eyes set on her, and ignored her existence all the same.
Due to this poor state, it was perhaps heartless to call her 'pathetic,' but unfortunately, she encompassed the word to a T.
A quiet, uncomfortable moment passed. Harry sounded softer and sympathetic when he asked, "Who's that?"
"One is a neighbor and friend of two," a meek voice said.
Cold iron weights tugged on chains wrapped around their innards. Exhausted eyes and brains suddenly awoke to an important clue to the secret fortune teller riddle. Like a painter's model, the strange girl sat stone still on her elephant throne, allowing them scant time to commit her to memory.
Too soon did she change her appearance, and as before, with some difficulty; she glitched again through a blonde woman donned in magenta, struggled to pass through a young nurse in a red sweater, then reclaimed the snotty brat that'd been of unusual assistance.
Harry sat up when she hopped to the floor. His lips parted, wanting to ask her questions, wanting to say something, yet words wouldn't find his tongue. She gazed at James, features inscrutable, who stared back at her the same. Her eyes turned to Harry, flicking judgmentally over him.
"Don't forget to take your trash," she remarked, beginning to wander off. "You'll want to throw it away somewhere else far away from here."
"Hey," called the patriarch, getting to his feet. "Who was that?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Throwing a smirk over her shoulder, she then twisted to wave at them without breaking her stride. "Good luck figuring it out!"
He wrinkled his brow. "Why are you helping us, anyway?"
"Bye bye!"
"Wait! Come back, why are you helping us?!"
But she had nothing else to say. The men watched her leave, retracing her steps to the north wing until she disappeared from view around the corner.
Harry's scoff was meager when he looked down at the conduit. "Seriously, James. Who is that?"
The man in question collected the empty hot dog boats, stacking one on top of the other. A glob of mustard sandwiched between the paper cradles expanded like paint. The balled napkins went on top, and he stood, clutching all of it in his fist. "Get your trash. Let's go."
"Fuck's sake, James," he heard Harry mutter. Once the father had done as told, they wound through the playground and headed out of the mall to find a place to dispose of their unwanted memories.