Toluca Lake was beautiful. It was the main reason people visited Silent Hill, according to the local information post. And Harry could see why. The sun was dipping, blood red, behind the western side of the wide, clear lake. Lush green grass, decorated with mighty evergreen trees and dainty white flowers that gave off a scent a little like vanilla.

His accommodation was nice too. Lake View Hotel. It had been built in the colonial style and was painted a crisp white. On the inside it was all large windows and white drapes, crimson walls and carpets. It had obviously seen better days, but there was something welcoming about its' faded grandeur. He collected his key from the desk and made his way upstairs. He arrived at the thick wooden door, unlocked it and stepped inside. The room was gloomy. It felt as though it hadn't seen a guest in years. Harry was too tired to care.

He reclined on the bed as quickly as his neck brace would allow. He felt exhausted.

He was supposed to have slept nine hours the previous night. Rachel, the nurse, had sworn to that.

It didn't feel like it.

He'd been having such terrible dreams. It seemed the longer he stayed at the hospital the worse they became. He woke up each morning feeling as if he really had been running from horrible monstrosities.

Two weeks he lay in Alchemilla General. Two weeks of rehabilitation. Two weeks of disturbing dreams. Two weeks and no sign of Cheryl.

Detective Briggs had no leads.

He'd arranged for a police officer from the next town to come and talk to Harry tonight. They'd witnessed the crash. Maybe they could help him piece together what happened that night. He still had hope. He kept seeing Cheryl in his nightmares. She seemed okay, but she was always running away. It was as if she didn't want to be found.

In his gut, something was telling him that Cheryl was still alive.

Some others had also appeared to him at night. A girl, about fourteen or fifteen years old he guessed. She looked a lot like Harry expected Cheryl would at that age. And the young nurse. He wished he could remember what they said.

A knock at the door. Briggs was there, wearing his familiar grey suit, and a female officer in uniform. She had short, blond hair which framed her face, kind but serious.

"Mr. Mason. Good evening to you." said Briggs, "The receptionist sent us straight up."

"Good evening detective. Come in."

They entered the room. It was rapidly darkening outside, stripping the scenery of its charm. Harry flicked on the overhead light. It threw a bright and harsh light on his new home and meager possessions.

"Harry Mason, meet Officer Bennett."

"I'm Cybil." she added as she shook his hand, "I was first on the scene when you crashed. I'll try to help in any way I can."

Harry perched awkwardly on the bed. The officer and the detective sat on the chaise longue.

"How do you feel?" asked the officer.

"Like I've been in a car crash." said Harry with a smirk. Something about the policewoman seemed familiar. An overwhelming sense of curiosity forced him to ask, "Do I know you? Have we ever met before?"

"Mr. Mason -"

"You look very familiar to me."

"I was on my way to meet Detective Briggs the night you crashed. I passed your car on my motorcycle. I glanced in your car as I passed."

"I don't remember that. Maybe your face stuck in my head."

She smiled. Just for a moment. She continued;

"A little after I passed you, I had a near miss. A girl appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the road and I had to swerve to avoid her. Did you see a girl Mr. Mason?"

"Yes."

Harry was beginning to remember.

"About fourteen, dark hair, blue dress."

It was all coming back now.

"That was what caused me to crash. Out of nowhere, suddenly there she was. On the road."

The gates had opened. He couldn't stop.

"Had to swerve hard. Lost control. Down the hill. Through the trees. Into the barrier. I thought we were going to die."

There was silence. Harry's returning memories seemed to be significant. The officer and the detective exchanged a glance. She spoke again;

"When I crashed, I looked back and couldn't see the girl. I went down onto the slope to see if I could find her, but she'd vanished. Then I saw you leave the road from the exact same spot that I had. I ran down the hill to where you hit the barrier. I called for an ambulance and radioed SHPD immediately. I looked after you as best I could. But I didn't see your daughter."

The blood in his veins turned to ice. Cheryl must have gone through the windscreen. His optimism was fading fast. But then, she'd been wearing her safety belt. He felt bewildered and disturbed.

"We searched either side of the barrier" said Briggs, "but we found no sign of Cheryl or the girl from the highway. Both vanished into thin air. If it wasn't for Officer Bennett's involvement in the incident, we would wonder if your daughter really existed."

Harry sat in silence, stunned. None of this made any sense.

"It might not sound like it Mr. Mason, but every day we don't find a body is a good day. Another chance that Cheryl is alive somewhere." reassured the officer.

Harry's eyes were stinging. He didn't want to cry in front of these people, yet the tears flowed. He couldn't stop them.

Officer Bennett knelt down beside him and took his hand;

"Mr. Mason..."

Harry couldn't speak. Cheryl might be lying dead somewhere. Hope gave way to grief and it was overwhelming.

"Harry..."

He looked up. Neither set of eyes showed contempt, just pity and compassion. She spoke again;

"Harry, we haven't found a single thing to lead us to Cheryl. I f she was hurt, there would be blood. If she was taken, there would be signs of a struggle.

She's alive. She might be frightened and alone but she's alive. I truly believe that."

Harry didn't know what to say. He wasn't sure what he believed. He didn't want to break down completely. Not yet. He controlled himself a little.

"We will find her Mr. Mason." added the detective.

"Thank you." were the only words he could force from his mouth.

Detective Briggs rose from his seat.

"Give me a minute Ed." asked Officer Bennett.

The detective acknowledged the request. He gently touched Harry on the shoulder before leaving the two of them alone.

"Harry, I have some leave due. I'm going to stay here and support the search. I was there that night, so I'm an important part of the investigation. I want to find out what happened too. Try to keep the faith."

"Do you believe in God?"

"I'm a Christian."

"Well, God hasn't been kind to me. Makes it hard to trust him."

"It doesn't have to be God. Everybody believes in something different. Don't lose hope. If you think of anything, or you just need someone to talk to, call this number."

She let go of his hand, produced a card from her pocket and wrote on the back. She handed it to him.

"The details on the front are for the station in Brahms, so just call the number on the back.

Before you do anything, let me know, okay? Will you promise me that?"

"Yes. Thank you."

She looked into his eyes, just for a moment. She squeezed his hand, stood up and let herself out.

As detective Briggs and officer Bennett drove away Harry fell back on the bed. The room was spinning. He shut his eyes. He pressed them tight hoping to shut out the thoughts racing through his head. He fought his mind and his tears until he was too tired to do either.

Exhausted, he allowed darkness to deliver him some peace.