Fear Street 5 - The Fire Game (12 page)

"No, thanks. I think I'll just sit here and read for a while." Jill picked up a historical novel she'd been reading. After a few minutes she realized she'd read the same page over and over.

It's no good, she thought, putting the book down. I'm not going to be able to concentrate on anything till we get the whole thing about the fire settled once and for all. Diane didn't seem to want to talk about it, and Jill couldn't blame her. It had been on all their minds too much.

But it would be better to talk it out and get it over with.

As soon as Diane gets out of the shower, Jill thought, I'm going to insist--

Her thought was broken by the ringing of the telephone. It took Jill a moment to find it, on a bench with Diane's father's sculpting tools.

"Hello?" she said.

"Hi," said a wonderfully familiar voice.

"Andrea!" cried Jill. "How are you?"

"Recovering," said Andrea. "The doctors say I'm going to be fine. Sort of blows your little plan to pieces, doesn't it?"

"What are you talking about?" said Jill. "I'm so happy you're all right!"

"I'll bet you are," said Andrea. "But you can quit pretending. I know it was you. When you didn't show up, I started warming up on the beam--

probably just as you thought I would. The next thing I knew someone hit me from behind. It had to be you."

Jill felt a jolt of fear run down her spine. "Andrea," she said carefully, "you're not making any sense. You've had a bad head injury.

Maybe you ought to get a good night's sleep and we can talk in the morning."

Andrea laughed. "I may have a head injury," she said, "but I don't have amnesia. And I've had a lot of time to think. I know you printed the notes too, the day you came over to my house. I know everything, Diane."

"Diane?" gasped Jill. "Andrea--this is me, Jill."

"Jill!" Andrea sounded shocked. "I--I didn't recognize your voice. I didn't know you were there."

"Diane invited me to spend the weekend," Jill said. "But what did you mean about--"

"Jill, listen to me," said Andrea urgently. "You've got to get out of there right away! Diane's dangerous! I think she's the one who set the fire. I know she hit me over the head--"

"But, Andrea, that doesn't make any sense! Diane's terrified of fires, and why would she want to hurt you?"

"To keep me away from Gabe!" said Andrea. "She's in love with him, Jill, and she's crazy!"

Gabe! With a sinking feeling, Jill began to understand. "But, Andrea,"

she protested, "if what you say is true, Diane needs help."

"Of course she does!" said Andrea. "That's what I was going to tell her.

I--I was even going to offer to help her give herself up. But, Jill, we can talk about it later. She knows you're dating Gabe now. You've got to get out of there. Please! Do it now."

"But she invited me here so we could talk--"

"That's even worse! Please, Jill, please, just leave. Promise me you'll leave now. We can figure out what to do later."

Jill was about to protest again, but Andrea's urgency and fright were very real, and Jill began to feel a rising panic. If what Andrea said was true, that meant Diane was a murderer. And she had tried to kill Andrea.

Now Jill was alone in the cabin with her.

"Okay, Andrea," she told her friend. "I'll leave now. I'll call you as soon as I get back home."

She quickly hung up the phone, then grabbed her overnight bag. She could still hear the water running in the bathroom. For a moment she considered telling Diane that she felt sick and was going home, but she remembered the urgency in Andrea's voice, so she slipped out the cabin door and shut it behind her.

Sliding into her car, she opened her purse and fished around for her keys. She usually kept them in the side zipper compartment. But there was nothing there but a lipstick and a small pack of tissues. Switching on the car light, she dumped the contents of her purse onto the bucket seat beside her.

No keys.

She shuffled through the clutter of stuff again.

No keys.

Had Diane taken them?

If so, it meant that she wanted to make sure Jill stayed there--maybe for good.

Jill felt cold, unreasoning fear move through her body. I've got to get out of here, she thought.

She slid out of the car and looked around frantically. A path led through the woods away from the lake. If she followed it, she was bound to come to a road or maybe even another cabin, one with a phone where she could call for help.

There was no moon, and the woods were dark and forbidding. She remembered hearing somewhere that the Fear Street woods were much darker than woods anywhere else.

She didn't even want to think about the other things she'd heard about the woods--such as the stories about the living dead who roamed through them at night. Or the fact that some people who had ventured into the woods had never been seen again.

At the edge of the path she forced herself to stop and take three deep breaths to calm down. She glanced back at the cabin and saw the bathroom light go out.

Diane knows I'm gone now, she realized. Without another thought she began to follow the path, straight into the dark thicket of trees and shrubs.

In a very short time, Jill found herself in total darkness. The light from Diane's cabin was a memory. She was walking as quickly as she could but had to be careful to stay on the path. "Ouch!" She walked into a thick bush.

Something yelped, then skittered off behind her.

A raccoon, she thought. Or maybe a bird.

She kept walking, more careful than ever to stay on the path. And then she became aware of a sound behind her. The sound of someone walking, of dry twigs breaking in a regular rhythm.

Someone's after me! she thought.

Or something.

Her heart was pounding so hard she could hardly breathe. Just ahead she saw a break in the trees. She deliberately stepped off the path, then froze behind a large oak, waiting for the thing that was stalking her to pass.

The sounds of footsteps continued, but she couldn't see anything. A moment later the sound faded away into the distance.

Maybe it was just the wind, she thought.

Maybe.

In any case, she didn't dare follow the path any longer. Instead, she struck out through the trees, trying to keep herself oriented away from the lake.

There's got to be a cabin out here, she thought. Lots of people have places in the woods.

But there was no sign of a light, only woods and more woods.

With sudden horror she realized she was no longer sure where the lake was, or even the path. It was so dark, she couldn't be sure what direction she had come from.

This can't be happening, she thought. I can't be out in the middle of the Fear Street woods, at night and alone. I can't be lost.

But she was.

She forced herself to stop and catch her breath. Maybe she could just wait here, where she was, until daylight.

Sure, Jill, she told herself. Just wait here in the dark with the living dead walking around and a murderer after you. She felt so frightened she wanted to laugh--or cry.

More slowly now she began to walk again, back toward the lake. She realized now that she should have done that in the first place. If she followed the lake around she would surely run into other cabins! There was even a little grocery store on the side of the lake across from Diane's parents' cabin.

That's it, she told herself. Find the lake.

She kept going in what she hoped was the right direction. After what seemed a very long time, but was probably only minutes, she saw a light in the distance.

The light was moving.

It's a flashlight! she thought. It's someone who can help me!

Weak with relief, she began to stumble toward the light.

"Hello!" she called. "I'm lost! Can you help me?"

"Of course I can," said the person holding the light. The figure stepped closer, and Jill felt her heart sink to the bottom of her feet.

It was Diane.

"What are you doing out here?" Diane asked, her blue eyes wide with surprise above the flashlight. "Jill, I was so worried about you." She was wearing a jacket over her robe, and her hair was still wrapped in a towel from the shower.

For a moment Jill couldn't think of a single thing to say.

How had Diane found her?

Diane answered, as if she had read her thoughts, "When I saw you weren't in the cabin, I thought--I don't know what I thought, but I was scared.

Then I found your car keys lying on the porch."

"I was lost," Jill said, bewildered. "How did you find me?"

"I followed your footsteps," said Diane. "You walked in a circle. The cabin's right over there."

Jill turned to face where Diane was pointing. Sure enough, the glow from the cabin lights was visible through the trees.

"But what in the world are you doing out here?" Diane repeated. "It's not safe in the woods at night."

"I know," said Jill. "I just--just wanted to get some fresh air."

"Well, it's cold," said Diane. "Look at you, you're shivering. Here, take my jacket." She slipped out of her jacket and put it over Jill's shoulders. "Poor Jill, you must really be upset to do such a foolish thing. Come on back in the cabin. We can talk about it if you want."

Jill didn't know what to think. Diane seemed just like herself, always worried about other people. How could the things Andrea had accused her of be true?

On the other hand, the panic in Andrea's voice had been real.

But even if it was true, even if Diane had set the fire, what could Diane do to her? Jill was bigger than Diane, and if she had set the fires, maybe she did want to talk about it. Maybe if Jill just went inside and played it cool, she could find out what was going on.

The cabin was warm and cheery after the terrifying moments out in the woods, and Jill stood close to the fireplace, trying to get warm,

"I'll make some tea," said Diane. "It'll just take a minute. Why don't you wrap up in that blanket and sit close to the fire?"

Jill did as Diane suggested and sat by the hearth, shivering. She watched as Diane heated water, her pretty face lined with worry.

How could Diane have possibly done the things Andrea accused her of? she wondered. She's so sweet and so caring. Maybe Andrea's accident had somehow affected her mind.

"Thanks," Jill said as Diane brought her the tea.

"Just sip it slowly," said Diane. She sat on a worn leather ottoman across from Jill.

How am I going to bring up what I want to talk about? Jill wondered. But Diane saved her the trouble.

"I thought I heard the phone ring while I was in the shower," Diane said.

"Who was it?"

Jill took a deep breath. "It was Andrea."

"Really?" said Diane, surprised. "But I thought she was still unconscious."

"She came out of it," said Jill. "She's going to be all right. But, Diane--she had some things to say that were really upsetting. Things about you."

"Me? What do you mean?" said Diane.

"I mean," said Jill, swallowing, "that Andrea thinks you were the one who wrote the notes."

"The notes?" said Diane. "You mean the ones printed in blue ink? Andrea thinks I did that?"

"Yes," said Jill.

"But that's ridiculous!" said Diane. "It was her computer--we all knew that."

"The only person who was so sure it was Andrea's computer was you," said Jill, suddenly realizing that was true. "The rest of us kept saying it could have been another computer with blue ink."

"Are you saying you think I wrote the notes?" said Diane. She sounded shocked.

"I don't know what I think," said Jill truthfully.

"What else did Andrea say?" Diane demanded.

"She said--she said you hit her from behind while she was practicing on the balance beam."

"She told you that," Diane repeated. It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

"And I suppose you believed her about that too?" said Diane. Her face had changed, and her expression was no longer sweet and concerned. She looked angry and determined. But determined about what?

"I told you," Jill said. "I don't know what I believe."

Diane sighed and then she smiled, very strangely. "All right, Jill, I guess it's time to tell you the truth. I was the one who wrote the notes.

And, yes, I did hit Andrea."

"But why?" Jill was horrified.

"Why?" Diane laughed. "That's easy. Because she knew the truth! And now, I'm sorry to say, you know it too. . . ."

For a moment Jill just stared at Diane, shocked. Despite what Andrea had told her, in spite of Diane's own confession, she couldn't believe it.

Was this really her friend Diane? Sweet, considerate Diane, who only a few minutes ago had lovingly made her a cup of hot tea?

She almost didn't recognize the girl who sat across from her now, her usually sweet and pretty face transformed by a mocking, cruel smile.

Diane unwrapped the towel from around her head and shook her damp, curly hair loose.

"What's the matter, Jill?" she said. "Cat got your tongue?"

"I just--just can't believe it," Jill said.

"Oh, really?" said Diane. "Well, it's true. There are a lot of things you don't know, Jill. You live in such a dream world, with everything always going your way, with boys falling all over you. You think you can have any boy you want, don't you?"

"I never thought that."

"Didn't you?" said Diane. "What about Gabe?"

"I've only been out with him once," Jill said in a small voice, her feelings of shock beginning to give way to horror.

"But you had big plans for him, didn't you?" Diane went on. "Probably thought you could add him to your string, along with Nick and Max." Then, with sudden fury, she added, "But you can't have him!"

Jill continued to stare at Diane, sickened and horrified by the look of hatred she saw on her face. "You said yourself you didn't care about him," she protested. "You told Andrea he was only an old family friend."

"What was I supposed to say?" Diane sneered. "That I've loved him since I was a little girl? That there's no way Gabe and I can ever be together? A real friend would have figured it out!"