Mile 15

Chapter 8: In Which Bill Makes a Friend

The headlights of Bill's car reflected off the layers of fog, encasing the vehicle in an unorthodox halo as it cruised down the narrow road. Heavily veiled trees rushed past the windows, appearing as nothing more than a deep, blue blur. But other than the endless forest, nothing came or went beyond the silent cabin of the car.

Inside, the air seemed strangely cooler than normal. Marty had already cranked the knobs on the temperature control panel, but the heat disappeared almost as soon as it came through the vents. It was as if the backseat had become an energy vacuum all of the sudden. Every exhale was accompanied by a slight puff of vapor, despite the fact that it was summer and they were currently in central California.

The source of the frigid feeling was still seated quietly in place. Bill had since wiped away the blood stuck to the side of her head, and patched up the wound with a bandage from the first aid kit. Now, having been cleaned up slightly, she looked considerably less frightening. Her appearance was much more delicate without the blood, and if not for the fact that she was glowing slightly, she could have passed as any doe-eyed girl-next-door. However, her distant expression had not faltered even for a second.

By this point, Marty had figured out that the woman in white probably wasn't going to kill them or anything-- at least not at the moment. But he was still very much on edge; sitting as far forward on his seat as possible and checking the mirrors constantly.

Bill was also constantly checking in the mirrors, but for a different reason. Although he did his very best to keep his eyes on the road, he couldn't help but glance up every two or three seconds. The woman in the backseat had somehow stolen all of his attention, and he had to stop himself from staring at her more than once. His fascination was making for rather unsafe driving conditions.

"So..." he said after some time. "What's your name?"

"Don't talk to her!" Marty stage-whispered.

"Why not?"

Marty shot a nervous glance over his shoulder, but the woman said nothing.

"It's fine if you don't wanna tell us," Bill continued, "But my name's Bill,"

"..."

"Twenty-nine years ago..." the woman began, her voice still extremely gentle. "On a night just like this one, a young girl dressed in white walked along this very same road,"

"Twenty-nine years ago, huh? That's before either of us were born, right Marty?"

Of course, Bill was historically quite bad at socializing --especially in comparison to his exceedingly extroverted best friend. Yet for some reason, the arrival of this mysterious woman had caused his entire personality to shift. His face, which was usually quite dull and tired, had suddenly brightened significantly. And he spoke as if making conversation was something he actually enjoyed. It was especially noticeable as Marty himself had fallen almost entirely silent since the woman's appearance.

"R-right," Marty replied.

"It was late..." she continued. "Her car broke down and she had no choice but to walk. She was just trying to go home...

"But the fog was so thick, and the poor girl lost her way. Before she knew it, she was deep into the woods, following a road that went on forever and ever. Always going forward. Forever and ever.

"I remember hearing her mother's voice, as she searched the woods for her missing daughter... Always calling out. Calling out her name, not yet knowing that her baby girl would never return. Not yet knowing. Not ever knowing. That she was gone... forever. That pretty little girl in white... would never come home..."