Fear Street 5 - The Fire Game

Fleecy clouds moved across the sun, then suddenly broke up, sending glittering sunlight through the dusty library window. Jill Franks squinted against the sudden brightness, then laughed as her friend Andrea Hubbard quickly put on oversize purple sunglasses with heart-shaped frames.

"Where'd you get those?" Jill whispered.

"Aren't they great?" exclaimed Andrea. "Don't you think they make me look sexy and mysterious?"

"Will you guys keep it down?" Both Jill and Andrea turned back in surprise to Diane Hamilton, the only one of the three who actually had a book open. The girls were at their favorite study table behind the stacks in the school library.

"What did you say?" shouted Andrea, and she and Jill cracked up again.

"The glasses look great," said Diane, trying not to laugh. "But, Andrea, this is a library. And we're supposed to be studying for the geography quiz."

"Relax," said Jill. "We're the only people in here. Miss Dotson went to lunch fifteen minutes ago."

"Besides," said Andrea, stretching like a cat, "the quiz is two hours away. Maybe we'll be captured by aliens before sixth period."

Jill laughed again. Andrea never took anything seriously. Jill sometimes wondered if it was just a pose, or if Andrea really did see everything as a joke.

"It's easy for you to say," said Diane. "Both of you have been in this school system your whole lives. But at my old school we never studied geography."

"Ooh, poor baby," said Andrea sarcastically. "And I bet you still think the world's flat."

"Who says it isn't?" said Jill.

"Come on, you two," urged Diane. "I really have to do well this semester." A serious look clouded her small, heart-shaped face, as if the geography quiz were the most important thing in her life.

Jill studied Diane with a mixture of exasperation and affection. The shy, petite brown-haired girl contrasted oddly with Jill and Andrea. Tall, slim Jill, with her long, thick black hair, and bouncy, muscular Andrea, with her boy-short red hair, were both outgoing and ready to laugh at anything. But when Diane had joined the gymnastics team at the beginning of the semester, the three had hit it off right away, anyway.

Maybe, Jill thought, it was because Diane was so different. She was as calm as Andrea was volatile, and as serious as Jill was bubbly, and she was the sweetest person Jill had ever known, always ready with a compliment or a word of encouragement.

"Hey, don't worry about the quiz," said Andrea. "Mrs. Markham never counts quizzes for the final grade."

"That's not what she said," Diane protested.

"Who cares?" asked Andrea. "I only care about getting good enough grades to keep my sports eligibility."

"After you win the state gymnastics championship, nobody will care what your grades are," said Jill.

"Do you really think I have a chance to win?" asked Andrea.

"Who else?" said Jill.

"Well, how about the twelve other finalists?" Andrea said.

"I'll bet none of them is as good as you," said Diane. "In fact, you're the best I've ever seen on the floor routine."

"Thanks for saying so," said Andrea. "I shouldn't admit it, but I think I do have a chance for a medal. I just wish I were a little stronger on the balance beam."

"We'll help you practice this weekend," said Jill. "Won't we, Diane?"

"Sure," said Diane, her serious face transformed by a smile.

"What I really need help with is picking the music for my floor routine,"

Andrea said. "Any ideas?"

"How about Bolero?" said Jill. Bolero was one of her favorite pieces.

"No way. Too many other girls use it," said Andrea. "I'd like to have something really different, something no one else would think of using."

"How about some original music?" said Diane suddenly.

"Oh, sure," said Andrea. "What do you have in mind--the two of you humming on combs while I do my flips?"

"I was just thinking," Diane said, sounding excited. "I have this friend-

-he's kind of a songwriter. I mean, he writes his own songs and plays them on the guitar. He's really good."

"Great, maybe he'd like to sit on the uneven parallel bars and strum away." Andrea sighed. "I'm serious about this. I need something really special."

"I'm serious too," said Diane, sounding hurt.

"I think Diane's idea is great," said Jill. "If her friend came up with something neat, we could tape it for the competition. For sure no one else will be using original music."

"You really think he'd do it?" said Andrea.

"You can ask him yourself, next week," said Diane. "His father just got transferred to Shadyside, and Gabe and his mother will be here in a few days."

"Gabe?" said Andrea.

"Yeah. It's short for Gabriel," said Diane. "Like the angel. Only Gabe's more of a devil."

Jill and Andrea both stared at Diane for a moment, because that didn't sound like her type of friend at all.

"What do you mean?" said Jill.

"He's not like other boys," said Diane. "He's--well, a little wild and kind of funny and sweet all at once. I've known him practically my whole life, and I never have any idea what he's going to do."

"Sounds interesting," said Andrea, arching one thin, dark eyebrow.

"He's also good-looking," Diane added as an afterthought. "He's got the greenest eyes you ever saw. I mean really green green, not brownish."

"So when do we meet Mr. Perfect?" asked Andrea.

"As I said, he and his mom should be here any day now. I'm really excited they're coming, but . . ." Diane let her thought trail off.

"But?" said Jill. "What's the but?"

"Well, Gabe's a little worried about moving to a small town," Diane said.

"He's lived in the city his whole life."

"We'll just have to make it interesting for him," said Andrea. "First of all, we'll keep him away from Nick and Max."

"Come on, Andrea," said Jill. "They're not so bad."

"Then why won't you go out with them?" countered Andrea. "Everyone knows they're both crazy about you."

"Get real," Jill said, but she knew what Andrea meant. Nick Malone and Max Bogner had been hanging out with the girls ever since the past summer. Both boys were nice, but exciting would be the last word anyone would use to describe either of them.

Officially they were all just friends, but Jill knew Andrea was right, both Nick and Max were interested in her. Too bad she wasn't interested in either of them. Maybe this new boy--Gabe--would be someone she could care about.

She was jolted from her thoughts by a diabolical cackle, and a moment later Nick, his long, skinny fingers twisted into claws, emerged from behind a tall bookshelf.

"Ah, zere zey are," he said in a terrible Dracula accent. "My favorite leetle morsels."

"Maybe we can wrap zem up here and ship zem back to ze castle," said Max in the same accent. He was as stocky and round as Nick was long and skinny, and his plump, reddish face was screwed up into such a ridiculous horror-movie expression that all three girls laughed out loud.

"Don't tell me--you guys have been renting ancient horror movies again,"

said Jill.

"How did you guess?" said Max, making the face again.

"We saw three last night," said Nick, sitting on the windowsill by the table. "They were all cool, but the best one was called The Torch. You ever see it?"

"We have better things to do with our IQs," said Andrea in a bored voice.

"For you two, it may be too late."

Nick ignored the insult and went on. "It's about this guy who can make fire come out of the tips of his fingers. Like a human flame thrower."

"Sounds like a handy guy to take on a barbecue," said Andrea.

"Yeah," said Nick. "Anyway, he's a good guy, but then he runs across a bad guy who can do the same thing, and pretty soon they're having these big fire duels."

"Like this!" said Max, suddenly flicking on a disposable butane lighter.

He turned it on high so that the flame shot up, then aimed it in Nick's direction.

"Hey!" said Nick, still laughing. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a lighter of his own. "Take that, Torch Scum!" he said and swiped his lighter at Max. In the next instant the two boys were faking a duel with the lighters.

Jill and Andrea both started laughing, because the boys were so ridiculous. But then Jill became aware of Diane's chair suddenly scraping away from them.

"Don't," Diane whispered fiercely. "Don't," she repeated more loudly.

"Don't!"

Jill turned to her friend and saw that Diane's pretty face was twisted in fear.

"Stop them, Jill, Make them stop!" Diane gripped Jill's arm.

"They're only fooling around," Jill said. She did talk to the guys, though. "Hey, chill out, will you?"

"No. Keep it up," said Andrea. "Maybe you can start a fire and get the geography quiz canceled."

"I only use my powers in the service of good," said Max. "And geography is--Hey, watch out!"

Max stepped aside as Nick lunged at him. Nick's gawky body fell against the side of the stacks, knocking several books to the floor. Before he regained his balance, he had landed in Andrea's lap.

"Get off me!" grunted Andrea.

"May I have this dance?" Nick asked. He straightened up and leaned against the wall, still flicking his lighter.

"Cut it out, you dweeb," said Jill. She knew the boys were only fooling around, but she suddenly realized how many flammable things the library contained.

Nick picked up an empty folder and repeatedly brought the flame close to it, then pulled it away.

"No!" shrieked Diane in a panic. Everyone, including Nick, turned to look at her. A second later the edge of the folder burst into flames.

"Now you've done it!" cried Diane, her face white with fear. She jumped up, knocking her chair to the floor. "You've really done it!"

She turned and ran from the room.

For a moment nobody moved. Then Andrea grabbed the folder from Nick and shook it till the flames died out.

"What's with your friend?" asked Max. "Why did she go bananas?"

"She's your friend too," said Jill. "You know, playing with lighters in the library isn't exactly the swiftest thing you've ever done."

"It's a good thing Miss Dotson isn't here," added Andrea. "I'm going to go see if Diane's all right."

"I'll go with you," said Jill. "See you guys in geography."

As they walked out into the hall, Andrea dropped the blackened folder into the overflowing trash can by the door.

They found Diane standing by an open window, breathing deeply, her whole body trembling.

Jill put an arm around her. "Hey, Diane," she said gently. "What is it?"

Diane turned her stricken face to the other girls. "I hate fire," she said. "I just hate it."

"It's okay," said Andrea. "But don't you think you're overreacting just the teensiest bit? No one was hurt. Nothing got burned but a crummy folder."

"I guess you're right," said Diane. "Sorry. I'm all right now."

But Jill saw that she still looked frightened--almost haunted.

A few minutes later Jill sat in algebra class trying to answer some sample problems. "If a train starts out from Chicago at fifty miles an hour," one problem began, "and another train starts at the same time from San Francisco at sixty-five miles an hour . . ."

Why would they do that? Jill thought. Who takes the train these days?

It was no use. She just couldn't concentrate on the stupid trains. Her eyes kept turning to the window, where pink and creamy white dogwood trees were blossoming, and her mind kept going back to the library and the strange way that Diane had reacted to the fire.

Diane was what Jill's mother called "high-strung." Maybe it will be good for her to have an old friend around, thought Jill.

And maybe it'll be good for me, she thought. This Gabe really sounded interesting. She'd never known a guy who was really into music. Nick and Max were all right. But she couldn't take them seriously as anything more than friends.

She tried to imagine Gabe's green eyes as Diane had described them, and then, suddenly, she smelled something pungent and sour.

Smoke.

As she watched, the dogwoods were partially obscured by thick, black smoke. Jill felt her heart tighten in her chest.

An instant later the fire alarm began to ring.

An instant after that the school intercom crackled and the principal's voice came on, faint against the wail of the alarm.

"All fire monitors to their stations," he said.

His next words were drowned out by a shriek. "This is real!" a girl screamed in a panicky voice.

"Just stay calm," said Mr. Molitor, the math teacher. His voice was low and steady, but Jill thought he looked scared. "There's plenty of time to get out. Line up by the door."

Her heart still thudding, Jill grabbed her backpack and stood up, then joined the line and followed the teacher out into the smoky second floor hall and down the stairs to the nearest exit.

The air filled with the wail of sirens. By the time Jill's class had reached the courtyard, fire fighters in heavy black raincoats and hats were swarming into the building.