The Bridge (Para-Earth Series) (17 page)

             
The young man frowned, “Wait, they used the slab she slipped on, as a marker on the bridge?  Why?  If I was the girl, I wouldn’t go near the bloody thing.”

             
“That was the idea,” Jason told him, “You see as long as they were building the bridge, the girl was content to wait and stayed out of the water.  She’d sit on the bank watching and listening, but nothing more.  They had hoped she wouldn’t want to be near the slab after a while and finally give up her vigil.  But it didn’t work out that way.”

             
“I had a feeling you were going to say that,” Alex sighed and took another sip of his tea. 

             
“After the bridge was finished, the girl would go and stand in the center of it, night after night.  And only then because that was when she could hear the baby’s cry.  Her father and brothers would go with her, until she insisted that she needed to be alone.   But someone was always nearby, at either end of the bridge, hidden in the brush just in case.”

             
“Now, I understand where the legend comes in about her searching for the baby from the bridge,” Alex murmured, his brow furrowed deep in thought.  “How long did this go on for?”

             
“Three years,” his host replied solemnly, “She was 17 when she disappeared.”

             
“Disappeared?” repeated Alex. 

             
Jason nodded.  Standing up, he wandered over to the window and gestured for his guest to join him.  Together they looked out at the stone bridge in the late morning light.

             
Alex could sense something was out there, as his companion spoke.

             
“On the third anniversary of the baby’s disappearance came a storm, much like the one that had taken place the night the baby was lost.  The daughter became very excited.  She was sure it was a sign that she would find the child and finally save him.  Her father was so afraid for her safety, that he personally kept an eye on her the entire day.  As evening fell, the storm raged with a fury that made many within the manor tremble with fear.  Suddenly, in the middle of dinner, the girl screamed that she could hear her baby and rushed out into the night.  Her father followed close behind.  Those still inside the great building all swore that they too could hear the wail of an infant in the distance.  The man’s sons, along with their grandfather and several servants, rushed outside out to investigate.”

             
Alex’s eyes gently closed as he listened.  He could still see the bridge, only it was dark outside and a torrent of rain was falling.  Lightning illuminated the scene.  A girl stood on the bridge calling, her voice nearly lost on the wind.  And from somewhere in the darkness he heard an answering cry.  A baby’s wail… 

             
“A short time later, those inside the great manor heard a loud and terrible crash that shook the very walls of the building,” Jason continued, apparently unaware of his companion swaying at his side.

             
Alex could see a man dressed in clothes from an era long gone, racing across the grounds and stopping.  He too had heard the child’s cry. 

             
On the bridge, the girl knelt down as if reaching for something.

             
Was the bridge itself growing darker?  No, it was a shadow.  Something huge and dark was rising up behind the girl as she stood up smiling at what she now held in her arms…

             
There was another flash of lightning and the scene changed.  It was still raining but now he saw a different man in modern clothes, hobbling towards the bridge.  His pants were torn and one leg was bleeding.  But he didn’t dare stop, for he was being hunted.  In the far distance, a small figure stood watching his efforts intently.

             
He heard Jason speaking as if from far away. “By the time the men had returned from the bridge, one servant was dead, while another had lost his mind.  They had found the girl’s father at the foot of the bridge dead.  Of the girl, they could find nothing.”

             
Was there a hint of bitterness or satisfaction in the voice?  Alex wondered.  There was another flash of lighting, and he spotted a second figure standing at the water’s edge, watching the hunt.  It was a teenage girl in white, who slowly turned and stared straight at the very window he was standing in front of. 

             
“It was believed that the servant who died, and the one who went mad, had seen what had happened to their master,” the groundskeeper’s voice droned.  “For the man’s body had been crushed flat as if…”

             
“A giant wall had fallen on him,” finished Alex absently, still staring at the girl.  The lower half of her white dress was stained dark… 

             
Suddenly, he felt a cup being pressed into his hand.  Opening his eyes and looking up, Alex found he was back at the table with Jason.  Looking around in confusion, he asked, “Weren’t we over at the window?”

             
His friend nodded, “But, then you seemed to be a little unsteady, so I brought you back here.”

             
“Thank you,” Alex replied, shaking his head.  What had he been seeing?  Was it a vision out of time?  But what about the man in modern clothes who was being hunted?  He looked over at his host who was watching him intently.  And a thought struck, “One of your ancestors witnessed what happened that night and passed the story down, didn’t they?”

             
The groundskeeper smiled and nodded, “Drink your tea.  It will make you feel better. You have been unwell lately, haven’t you?” 

             
“Yes,” Alex smiled sheepishly.  “Guess I’m still not over it,” he sighed and took another sip from his cup.  “That was quite a story,” he added casually.  But in the back of his mind he was thinking, ‘It reaches out, grabs you and gives you a seat in the front row.’

             
“It’s also a true one,” his host added and stood up. “Perhaps you should head back home.  We can continue our talk another day.  It’s nice to have a visitor who enjoys good tea.”

             
“I’d like that,” Alex smiled and followed his host.  Once they were outside, he paused and looked at the bridge.  He could still feel something was there.  “Neither the girl nor her baby were ever found, were they?”

             
Jason followed his gaze and said, “No. They remain out there somewhere.  Perhaps they have been united in death, after being separated in life.” 

              As Alex drove away, the image of the girl bending down on the bridge came to him again.  He was sure that the bundle he had seen in her arms had been squirming.  ‘But she’s supposed to be still looking for the baby, isn’t she?’ he wondered.

revelations

              Over at the local mall Veronica and Patrolwoman Olivia Jackson had been doing some window shopping together.  Now the two of them stood in front of a book store. 

             
“Spot something interesting, Sarge?” asked Olivia, a twenty-five year old strawberry blonde with dimples. 

             
Ronnie rolled her eyes and said, “Don’t call me Sarge.  We’re off-duty.”

             
“Sorry,” Olivia apologized, “Old habits die hard.  After all you were my partner up until a year ago.”

             
“True,” Ronnie nodded and looked at the younger woman with pride.  While only five and a half feet tall, she had brought down many a suspect much bigger than her since she joined the force six years earlier.  They’d only been separated a few months ago, when Roy decided Olivia was ready to train a new officer.  So they both got assigned new partners. “How’s Ben Patel working out?”

             
“Not bad,” Olivia replied, “He’s got potential.”

             
“Yeah as a Line-backer,” Ronnie commented.  “It’s so weird seeing you two together.  You’re not tiny, but next to him you look like a midget.”

             
“Everybody looks like a midget next to him,” her ex-partner replied.  Then she glanced at the window and asked, “So what caught your eye in here?”

             
Ronnie pointed to a display in the center of the window saying, “That book right there!”

             
Olivia followed her finger and frowned, “The one on psychic phenomenon?  Are you into that stuff?”

             
“I know it sounds weird coming from a cop, but I actually got to meet the author and see her in action,” Ronnie told her friend. 

             
“She helped you on a case?”

             
“Actually, she was helping another old partner of mine, who I was visiting at the time.  And I’m wondering if she put that story in the book,” Veronica mused, “It was a really interesting case.”

             
“Let’s go take a look,” Olivia replied and darted inside.

             
A few minutes later the two of them were pouring over the pages in the book.  It was turning out to be far more interesting than Ronnie had hoped.  The psychic was not only recounting experiences in her own life, but several of her colleagues as well.  The book had been dedicated to one of them, a Dr. Eric Chalmers who she devoted two chapters to, complete with photos.

             
It was while looking at these images Veronica spotted one that made her gasp.  It was a group shot which included the author, the late Dr. Chalmers, two other colleagues, several college interns and a boy no more than 12 years old.  It was the boy who had captured her attention.  He had bright eyes, blonde hair and a smile she knew all too well.  It was Alex.  There was no mistaking it.  She’d seen photos of him among his grandparents collection, plus his name was clearly written underneath the picture along with the words “gifted young psychic”.

             
“So that’s how you always…,” she muttered and slammed the book shut.  Then without another word, she hurried over to the register with her former partner running behind her.

             
“Is everything all right?” asked Olivia with concern.

             
Veronica nodded, “Yeah, but I need to get home right away.  Do you mind?”

             
“No, not at all,” the younger woman replied.  “Has something happened?”

             
Ronnie smiled mysteriously and said, “Let’s just say, I found the answer to something that’s been puzzling me for the last four years.”

              When Alex got home, he found Veronica’s car already in the driveway.  He frowned and looked at his watch.  “Blimey, I must’ve been gone longer than I thought,” he muttered and parked.

             
Once inside he found his lady on the sofa with a cup of coffee and a book.

             
“You’re back early,” he remarked, kissing her on the forehead, “Anything wrong?”

             
His lady shook her head, “No, just wanted to be with you.  Only you weren’t here and you didn’t leave a note.  Where’d you go?” 

             
Although his love’s tone was relaxed, Alex became wary.  She had a way of asking simple questions that slowly became more and more complicated and invasive.  He’d seen her use this tactic before on suspects they’d run across when she was supposedly off duty.  And her success rate of tripping people up with this method was uncomfortably high.

             
“I went to see a friend,” he murmured and headed into the kitchen to make some tea, only to find she had followed him. 

             
“That’s nice,” she smiled and held up the book, “Look what I found in a bookstore today.”

             
Alex spotted the name of the author and froze.  Everything he’d tried to leave behind was coming at him like a speeding train, and he didn’t know what to do.

             
“There’s a picture of you in here,” Veronica continued and opened the book to the page with the photos. 

             
Reluctantly, Alex looked and saw his younger self smiling back at him.  He remembered the day that photo was taken.  A week later, Chalmers would lose his leg and three of the others would be dead.