From The Fog - First 3 Chapters

Chapter One “The Sighting”

      A few years ago, when I was twelve, something happened that challenged everything I knew to be true. Some people may tell you there’s a logical explanation for everything. I’m telling you that sometimes it’s best not to go looking for one.
      I remember looking out the window of our old stone house. The ivy that clung to the front wall had turned slightly and was creeping its way along the window seal. It was an unusually dark day. The fog fell upon us in the early hours, bringing with it a nasty drop in the temperature. The only things stirring were the blackbirds that had congregated in a clump of nearby trees. They seemed quite unsettled, hopping from one branch to the next, squawking impatiently to each other. The cold and the birds were certainly the only things penetrating the swelling fog. In the eeriness of the dawn even the sun was afraid to come out. It was the sort of day you know there’s no point venturing out into, but the thought of what my mum would say if I put off getting my hair cut for one more day was enough to motivate me.
      As I headed out the door, I walked straight into a wall of cold, wet air. It made me shake involuntarily. The rain was falling in an almost invisibly fine mist. By the time I’d walked the three minutes it took to get to the village, I was soaked. I hurried through a side street to Mr. Smith’s barbershop, but found it was closed. Half-heartedly kicking the door, I turned towards home. As I walked, I became lost in thought. That’s when I first heard it.
      A low, throaty moaning rumbled up from the direction of the river. It stopped me dead in my tracks. It wasn’t like anything I’d heard before. I listened hard and it came again. Who but me would be stupid enough to be out in this weather, especially by the river where the thickest fog had settled? I stood for a few more moments straining to hear, but the moaning had stopped.
      I hurried on as quietly as I could, listening, and wondering if I had really heard anything at all. Maybe the fog was just getting to me, I thought, but quickened my pace anyway. The congregation of crows still squawking amongst the trees didn’t help matters. They interrupted one another with their urgent calls, as if each one had something far more important to say than all the rest. I wondered how anyone could hear anything properly with all that noise. Turning to go up our garden path I caught, out of the corner of one eye, a distant shape running through the fog. I spun around fast straining my eyes to make sense of what I was seeing.
      A dark, misty shadow was moving quickly across the field. Whatever it was, it was big, far too big to be a person. I wanted to run into the house but was afraid to move, afraid it might draw the thing’s attention to me. I began to shake all over and this time it was not from the cold. It disappeared within the fog as quickly as it had appeared. It was gone, and so was I, bounding up the steps to my house. I flung myself in, slammed the door shut, and bolted it behind me.
      “Alex, what’s wrong?” came my mum’s voice as she peered around the kitchen door into the hallway. “You’re shivering, is it really that cold out?” she asked. I nodded dumbly, not really able to process what had just happened. She squinted at me, as if she were trying to see through a lie, but then turned with a dismissive tut and went back into the kitchen. “Well, I’ll make you some hot chocolate. That should help warm you up. Oh, and don’t think I haven’t noticed that you didn’t get your hair cut. You look like you’re wearing a dirty brown mop on your head!”
      “Ta.” My voice was barely audible.
      I didn’t have time to think about what she was saying; I needed to see if that thing was still out there. I tried to act casually as I hurried up the stairs to my bedroom. After shutting the door, I ran to the window and carefully peered through the curtains. I was unsure of where the thing had gone and I didn’t want it to know where I’d gone either, if it had indeed noticed me.
      Fog, that’s all I saw, a foggy street, foggy grass, foggy trees. The fog was constricting itself around our village, enclosing us in its grasp. I tried not to breathe, as my warm breath was beginning to cloud the window. There was no movement outside except the wafting fog and, of course, those stupid blackbirds. I strained my eyes to see through to the river, willing the wind to blow the fog just enough for me to get a glimpse, but it did not.
      Everything looked as if it were something out of a dream. It was beginning to feel like a dream too, or perhaps a nightmare. I stepped back from the curtains and turned to face my door, thinking there was something mentioned, previously, about hot chocolate. Just then there was a crash on the window behind me. I swung around in time to see a half-knocked out crow slide down onto the slant roof below.
      “Stupid crow!” I shouted as I held my nearly stopped heart. “It’s just a crow, just a crow,” I repeated as I took some deep breaths.
      I was scaring myself to death! Convincing myself I was simply going crazy was the easiest thing to accept at the time. After that, every time I began trying to justify that I had definitely heard and seen something that wasn’t normal, I again reassured myself that obviously I was mad. There was no other logical explanation for knowing without a doubt that I’d experienced something impossible.
      I stayed in for the rest of the day. I didn’t want to be alone in my room so I hung out downstairs in the TV room while Mum continued to clean. The sun that never really had the chance to come out finally gave up in defeat and night fell upon us seemingly earlier than usual. When my mum called me to dinner I was playing a video game. I saved the game and stood up to turn it off.
      There was a flash of headlights outside and the screeching of tyres. I raced to the window. It was my dad’s truck. It looked like he’d swerved to avoid something in the road. My first thought was that the thing from the fog must’ve been on the road, but I didn’t see anything to confirm my suspicions. Dad bound out of his truck without even closing the door. He ran around to the other side yelling something, circled the car twice, and then ran straight for the house. In seconds he was in and on the phone.
      My bewildered mother tried to find out what the matter was as my dad yelled over her voice into the phone. “You’ve got to come quick! I’ve just hit someone on the road! He was dressed all in black. I didn’t see him until it was too late!” he shouted frantically. “Yes, yes, he had to be disoriented because he staggered off into the fog and now I can’t see him! Thank you, thank you. God, I hope he isn’t hurt badly.”
      Dad hung up the phone and turned to look at Mum. She’d stopped talking when she heard “hit someone” and had covered her mouth with her hands, and there she stood still frozen in that position.
      “Pull yourself together, woman!” he said as his voice quivered. “That man might be lying out there hurt and covered up by the fog. We’ve got to find him, get your coat!” Mum ran for her coat without asking any questions.
      “Alex, help me find some torches, son!”
      “I think there’s one in my closet,” I said.
      “Go!” he ordered and I sprinted up the stairs. Swinging the closet open, I prayed it’d be there. It was. I flew back down gripping the torch tightly in my slippery, sweaty hand.
      I saw Dad was heading out the door. I followed him. My head was spinning. What if it wasn’t a man? What if it was that thing I’d seen earlier? But it couldn’t be, could it?

Chapter Two “The Escape”

      “Dad, was he a very big man?” I asked as we left the safe confines of our house.
      “Yes,” was his reply, “but I didn’t see him for long. He just darted out in front of me. I thought that maybe he was coming from the direction of the house the way he was headed. Did anyone stop by tonight?”
      I could feel the hairs rising on the back of my neck. “No.” I said, but it came out more like a whisper than a proper answer.
      The police and an ambulance drove up, cutting my own investigation short as Dad ran out to greet them. They immediately saw the need to look for the man and get answers from my dad later. I stood there dumbly for a second as they all rushed into the night, then, not wanting to be left there alone with the paramedics, I ran into the fog after them.
      The policemen formed us into a line arm to arm. We moved forward one step at a time trying awkwardly to stay in sync. The tallest policeman had positioned himself at one end. Dad was between him and the skinny officer who was holding my mother’s hand and she grabbed mine. There I was, on the far end, trying not to think about whatever might be coming along behind me to take my free arm, or any other part of my body it could get to, and drag me off. As we pushed further into the lair of the fog, I could no longer see past my Mum.
      Suddenly, I came to my senses. The thought, why are we even out here, rushed through my mind like water breaking through a dam. It was entirely my fault! I was stupidly endangering my parents and the officers with us. They had no idea what was really out here. I didn’t even know what it was at this point, but I certainly knew it wasn’t a man. I was desperate to get them out of the fog.
      “Mum,” I started but found myself at a loss for words as she looked at me. I didn’t know how I could possibly make her believe something I could hardly believe myself. I tried again. “We have to…, it’s so dark and…, there’s a …”
      She cut me off abruptly, “Oh, Darlin', are you afraid? Well don’t you worry. We’ll find him and that will be the end of it. You’ll see!”
      That’s exactly what I was afraid of.
      We were moving faster now. We’d gotten the hang of synchronicity, and somewhere along the way we became one unit. This didn’t help matters. In desperation I pulled my mum closer and as quietly as possible recounted the day’s unusual events, emphasising that what we were looking for was no man. My mum, half-smiling, waited for a few seconds to see if there was a punch line. As it didn’t come, her smile began to fade.
      She looked straight into my eyes and said, “I think maybe it’s just all the excitement, Alex, don’t you? The fog is eerie in itself. It can do funny things to our minds.”
      This was not funny at all- that I was sure of.
      “Mum, please!” I pleaded.
      At that very moment the barking of several dogs burst forth in the distance behind us. “Excellent, the sniffer team has arrived.” said the officer on the end. What dogs trained to sniff out humans could do to find something un-human was a mystery to me, but I was glad that they had finally arrived and were taking over the search.
      As I expected, the dogs found nothing. One officer said that maybe the man went down along the riverbank and his scent was washed away, but no one really thought that was likely. My father was still trying to retrace what had happened in his mind when the police said that they’d better be off. They were going to continue the search in the morning and in the meantime, they would call the hospitals on the off chance he was picked up along the road somewhere.
      As my dad showed the police to the door, my mum pulled me aside and said, “We need to talk, Alex.”
      I was really not in the mood to talk to her, especially if I was going to get told off for making stuff up. I reluctantly followed her into the kitchen where she began making us a cup of peppermint tea. She seemed to be taking ages to get it made.
      My father came through the hallway and poked his head in. “I’m ready for this day to be over with. I’m going to bed, good night.”
      I couldn’t help but agree with him. I tried to fake a yawn and followed my dad’s lead to the stairs, but my mum put her hand on my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks.
      “Nice try.” she said, guiding me back to the table and setting a cup of tea in front of me. “I wanted to tell you something, something that I haven’t told anyone before,” my mom started.
      She glanced toward the stairs and then began to whisper. “I haven’t seen fog like this since I was a little girl. I think I was eleven then. It happened just about the same way. A thick fog settled on Wickstead one morning. It was cold and wet, and it lasted for several days. I remember looking out the window and not being able to see past the front garden. Eventually it started playing on people’s minds. Everyone got really irritable and arguments broke out all over town. Even our dog was acting strangely. At that time I had a friend, Maggie Pierce, who lived two doors down from us. Well, not long after the outbreak of fog she came over to my house and was anxious to tell me something very secretive. We went to my bedroom where she shut the door and began telling me a strange story not unlike yours. When she was done she told me not to tell anyone, and I didn’t. Curiosity got the better of me, though. I desperately wanted to know if something like that could really exist. It was like a scary movie, you’re afraid, but you want to find out what will happen next and so you huddle close together as the goose bumps start to rise.” My mom pulled me close teasingly as she put on her best scared face.
      I was keen to hear what happened and had no time for this childishness from my own mother. Catching me roll my eyes she continued, “Despite spending most of my free time with Maggie looking for… well, whatever it was, I never saw or heard anything to back up her story. Soon the fog lifted and everything went back to normal. Everything except Maggie, that is. She was never quite the same after that. I think she was so embarrassed after realising she had just been tricked by the fog, that she went on trying in vain to prove to me, and to herself, that she really might have seen something. It was obviously impossible, her trying to prove something was there that just wasn’t. She became so preoccupied with it that she stopped doing the other things that she liked. It was really sad. Eventually her family moved to Greenbank and we lost contact with each other.”
      She looked at me poignantly. “I’m telling you this for your own good. The fog can be a very scary thing, I know that, and I don’t think any less of you because you got fooled by it too. It could happen to anyone. Do you understand? You just need to brush it off and not think about it. After this fog lifts we’ll have a good laugh.”
      I sat there stunned trying to sift through these new pieces of information. First of all, there had been a fog like this before. Second, someone else had maybe seen what I’d seen. I was strangely comforted by that fact, even if my mom did think we were both nutters. She was staring intently at me waiting for me to say something and was beginning to look a bit worried again. I had to say something, but what?
      “Uh, right, I guess, Mom, a bit silly I suppose.”
      Her smile reappeared. “I’m glad you felt you could talk to me about your fears. You’d better be off to bed now,” she said.

Chapter Three “The Awakening”

      The rest of the night went by seemingly uneventful in the quietness of the house. I think I may have even been able to sleep after all that had happened if it wasn’t for my spinning head. Thoughts raced through like a tsunami, washing away everything I had built solid foundations on and churning up all kinds of questions. Everything I had known before was under suspicion. At some point, though, I had definitely fallen asleep because I woke with a start.
      I had dreamt something horrible and was filled with an unimaginable terror. My heart and lungs were in competition to see which would be the first to either reach maximum velocity, or exceed capacity and burst from my chest. All my defence mechanisms kicked in. My eyes scanned the room and my hands clenched into fists. I could hear a fly buzzing around somewhere in the lower level of the house. I got out of bed and stood in the middle of the room. To the best of my knowledge everything was as I’d left it the night before.
      I ventured to my door and peered through the semi-darkness of the hallway. The clock on the wall read 5:24. All was still. I could see the muffled morning light coming through the window downstairs casting an illuminated square onto the otherwise darkened carpet. I wondered how it was so light there and yet still quite dark in my room. Surely light, fog-stricken as it was, should’ve been pouring through my window by now… unless it was being blocked by something.
      My mind began to buzz. I knew for sure whatever came out of that fog was blocking my window, either inside or outside, watching me. I stood there with my back to it, completely vulnerable. A chill clawed its way up my spine. I could feel my legs going weak. I wanted to turn and see it, but at the same time I wanted to run in the opposite direction. Either way, my legs refused to work. A slight scraping sound from the window vibrated through my eardrums, jumpstarting my legs into action. I turned just in time to see something outside my window, a thick black impenetrable shadow with acidic green cat-like eyes ducking out of sight.
      My weak legs finally gave way altogether. I fell to the ground in a dizzying swirl of motion. Quickly I shot back so my fallen body was against the hallway wall. I pulled my knees to my chest, ducked my head into them, and clamped my hands to my ears, all in one swift motion. My eyes didn’t shut though! I waited and watched seeing every flicker of light and hearing every sound through muffled hands as the clock ticked second after second of panicked anticipation.
      After about five minutes, fatigue won out over fear and I cautiously got up. This was ridiculous. I was torn. I was hiding from the very thing I was longing to see. At that point I made a pact with myself to positively see this thing or die trying. I was desperate, and this was the only way to prove to myself, and everyone else, that I wasn’t going crazy.
      Keeping a close eye on the window, I got my clothes on. I needed a plan and the first logical step was to find out who was around during the last big fog and what they knew about it. It was too early to go out and I was not at all sure my nerves could take it yet, so I decided to make a list of all the names of people my mom’s age or older that I could think of, along with some questions to ask them. It turned out to be quite a good list as the people I had on it would tell a kid just about anything if they thought it was going to be used to educate them. Little did I know how right I’d be.
      When 9:00 rolled around I set out for the town centre. Thankfully I saw one of my friends on the way so I didn’t have to walk alone. I asked him if his parents had mentioned anything about the last time it was this foggy.
      “We didn’t live here then, but my great-gran did and she won’t shut up about it!” he told me.
      I made a mental note to add his great-gran to my list. “What is she saying?” I asked.
      “Oh, you know, just the usual, like how it’s not safe to go out when you can’t see your hand in front of you. She’s got my mom all freaked out too! It’s a wonder I’m able to go to the library. Man, if I was stuck in that house any longer I would’ve gone mental!”
      I thought it would be wise for me to stop at the library as well. It would be interesting to see what I could find out from old Mrs. Finnigan, the librarian. She had probably been there as long as the building itself. My dad had said she used to help him with school reports when he was a kid. I knew she wouldn’t let me down.
      I spotted Mrs. Finnigan right away re-shelving some books in the fiction section. She was thin and tall with dyed ginger hair and a bit of a slouch due to her age and possibly all of the jewellery she had on. Her husband had been quite well off and lavished her with loads of the stuff while he was still alive. As a tribute to his kind-heartedness, she wore nearly every piece of it all at once. She was the only woman I knew who could do so and still look elegant. There had always been a glimmer about Mrs. Finnigan, though, that had little to do with her jewellery, and more to do with her good nature.
      I walked up to her slowly trying to recall the questions I had written down. “Mrs. Finnigan,” I asked, “do you have the time to help me find out something?”
      She turned with a smile and said, “I have all the time in the world, dear. What is it you’re looking for today?”
      I told her, “I’m trying to find information on the last time it got this foggy and how long it lasted.”
      “Follow me, my boy, and we’ll see if I can’t be of some use around this place.” She said with a nudge of her elbow and a wink at me.
      She took me over to the computer and showed me how to look up the newspaper archives for the regional newspaper, included Wickstead and the surrounding towns. Then she asked, “Would you like a first hand account as well, my dear?” I nodded and she began.
      “My kids were out of school on Easter break at the time. They were bored silly being stuck in the house and were driving me mad along with them. That fog was so thick, I thought it would take a right squall to blow it out of here. I tell you I’d not seen anything like it before, or since, until yesterday morning. Fog thick enough to swim in, it was. It lasted for what seemed like ages, and then one day it just receded with no rhyme or reason! Now I know a thing or two, but I’m no weather girl. All I can tell you is that, in my gut, I knew it wasn’t any normal kind of fog, and that fog outside right now isn’t either.”
      This was great! Had she seen something too? I couldn’t just ask her. I thought for a minute and decided how best to proceed. “Did anything weird ever happen to confirm your gut feeling, that something was going on that wasn’t normal?”
      “Like what?” she asked me point blank.
      I’d have to ask her. I sighed and then went on, “Well, like, did you see or hear anything weird or out of the ordinary?”
      “Well, I was kept up at night by the winds howling, though you’d think with all that wind the fog would’ve been pushed out through the village and on it’s way, but it didn’t move. That was out of the ordinary, I suppose.”
      Just then someone rang the bell on her desk and she hurried off saying “Happy searching!” as she went.
      I sat there for a moment imagining the howling. Was it really the wind she heard or could it have been something else? I had only heard a sort of gruff moaning. My mind replayed it, as if on cue, along with the blurred image of a black shadow with fierce green eyes, vanishing out of sight. I was starting to freak myself out again and decided that I should just try and focus on the task at hand before I came unglued completely. Turning back toward the screen, I began to order my facts.
      I tried to figure out the year by my mom’s story. She said she thought she was eleven then, and I knew she’d just turned forty-two. I looked in March and April but there were no headlines concerning the fog. Then, in desperation, I looked forward a year and there it was at the end of April, “Wickstead Fog Flees”. My mom had apparently been twelve when the fog hit, the same age I was.
      There was nothing of much substance in the articles except for the mention that Wickstead seemed to be the only town affected and that the fog had lasted for six days. Then I noticed something really weird. The date and day on which I first saw the fog arrive was exactly the same day, thirty years ago, the last time it came, Wednesday, 24 April.