Amos wasn't planning to stop here, not anywhere close to here, in fact. He was heading towards the mall, trying to track down any potential leads about that missing girl. But on his way, that fog had rolled in and he'd hit one of those weird fucking mannequins. When he'd stepped out of the jeep to check on what he'd hit, and then how much damage had been done to the car (if any), he'd heard the screaming.

Most people, he figures, try and get as far away from that sort of sound as they can. Then you've got guys like Holden who run towards the sound, because someone might need help and they gotta try. Then you've got Amos; he's not the kind of guy that heads towards sounds like that of his own choosing, though it's not for anything like fear. He just — keeps to himself, his own business. But it's hard to tell if a scream like that could've come from a kid, could be Millie? Unlikely, given the area he's in, but, it's enough to make him crouch down and hold up here rather than get in the car and leave. He doesn't feel anything like fear about it all. It's creepy, sure, but it would take more than this to stoke that old feeling that's been lost to him for so long. He hears more screaming, he waits, and when it tapers off, he takes a step closer to the fog, hoping that little girl isn't anywhere close to here. He's not expecting a hand to shoot out and grasp his arm.

"Jesus," muttered under his breath. "The hell happened?"