They Know Me

ALONE

I went inside and closed the door. I placed the recorders onto the small table, and then opened the door again and carefully hobbled back out to the sidewalk.

Bringing only my flashlight, I limped to the end of my street and turned right for the dead end. As I started along the quiet, dirt road, the only sound made was the exaggerated, staggered sound of my injury – stepping with one leg and dragging the other.

At the fork I turned left, my full focus directed at Cortland Bridge. Its shadowy appearance, slightly obscured by the light fog at its entrance, and the gentle lapping sound of water against it, was daunting, but the uncertainty of what I'd find once I stepped foot back inside was what bothered me the most.

Intentionally blocking Zil's warnings from my thoughts so I wouldn't change my mind and leave, I approached the bridge slowly. Though I knew returning there was a stupid thing to do, and that a sane person would back down and not return, it was personal. I'd experienced too much not to have questions, so whatever I found inside; human, something else ... or both, I'd deal with. Otherwise, the bridge won, and I lost.

I stopped at its entrance.

I clicked on the flashlight and cautiously entered the empty chamber. Keeping my light shined directly toward the darkened bend, I guardedly moved further in. Echoes immediately began, and I wondered if the chance I was taking wasn't a dangerous one, being in there alone. Halting a few feet from it, and stonewalling against the instinct to run, I called out, "I'm back. Is anyone here?"

The repeating of my voice was the only sound.

I swallowed hard. "I was at the barn. It was haunted – and I know Cortland Bridge is, too. You're not going to chase me away. I'll just ..."

Behind me, in front of me – all around me, came the sound of laughter.

I shuddered. Telling myself to not give in to fear, I called out again, "Are there people in here?"

A voice replied sharply in my left ear, "No!"

My breath caught. I whipped around, but dropped my flashlight. It hit the floor and the clattering noise it made went to my bones.

The sounds gradually faded.

Unsure which I disliked more, the voice of an unknown person breaking the dead silence from a secret place, or how unearthly still the bridge had become once again, I tried to soothe my shattered nerves by whispering to myself, "Don't run. It's a prank."

Grateful the flashlight hadn't shut off, I cautiously went to retrieve it while keeping a watchful eye on my surroundings. I picked it up and shone it along the walls and floor, and into the dark depths, as far as it would reach. By appearances, I was alone. By intuition, I knew I wasn't – not only because of the person's voice, but because of the sense of a close, unwelcomed presence. Fighting to keep calm under the stress, I said, "You don't scare me. I came back because I want to talk to you."

Sounding oddly without menace, but no less scary, someone else whispered, "Leave."

Determined not to surrender to the intimidation, I replied slowly, "No. I won't."

"You must," the same voice answered.

Unsure if I was talking to a person or a ghost, I decided to try and find out. "I never get past this spot. I'm going further in and you won't stop me."

A soft, low rumble of laughter started and grew steadily louder until it reverberated throughout the bridge's hollow hull.

To my core, I was frightened. My mind screamed for my body to listen to it and run, but I refused. Having just faced a ghostly inferno where I'd believed I was dying, I would stand my ground and face whatever element was inside Cortland Bridge, no matter what. "Who are you?"