Fear Street 5 - The Fire Game (7 page)

Gabe packed his guitar into its case, then picked it up, and taking Jill's hand began to walk with her out of the park.

"I've had a great time, Gabe," Jill said. "There's just one thing I want to talk to you about." She hesitated to bring up the fire game, but she and the other girls had agreed. Besides, she was a little worried about Nick.

"Sure," said Gabe. "What is it?" They were parked near Pete's Pizza, which was two blocks away.

"It's about the fire--the fire game," Jill said.

"The fire game? Is that what you call it?" asked Gabe. "Well, what about it?"

"Andrea and Diane and I had a serious talk about it, and--and, we want it to stop."

"Are you serious?" Gabe stopped walking to turn to her, the old mocking smile on his face. "Why?"

"Because it's dangerous and illegal, and we're afraid someone's going to get in trouble. Besides, I think the other boys are taking it too seriously. Especially Nick."

Gabe shook his head. "No way, Jill," he said, smiling at her. "You're the one who's taking it seriously. It's just a goof. And it's not like we're running around setting fire to everything we see."

"Well, but--" Now Jill was confused.

"But nothing," said Gabe. "If you're so worried about the other guys, ask them how they feel about it. They'll tell you the same thing I just did.

Come on, now. Chill out."

"Oh, Gabe," she said. "Maybe you're right."

"Sure I am," he said. They started walking again. The way he put it, it didn't seem that serious. She and Diane were both overreacting.

They turned the corner onto Main Street. There was a big crowd in front of Pete's Pizza. "I've never seen a line like that," said Jill. "They must be having a sale on pepperoni or something."

"I wish we had time to check it out," said Gabe.

But as they got closer, Jill saw that the crowd wasn't waiting to get into Pete's at all. "Gabe, it's a fire! Someone's car is on fire!"

Gabe saw it too. "Hey--it's my car! Hold this!" He handed her the guitar and began sprinting down the block.

"Gabe!" she shouted. Holding the guitar awkwardly at her side, she ran after him. The car was blazing furiously, the interior a mass of red and yellow flames. The crowd had started to move back from the intense heat.

"Get back!" someone shouted. "It's going to blow."

But Gabe was running directly toward the fire. "I've got to do something!" he cried.

"Gabe, no!" Jill dropped the guitar and ran after him as fast as she could. She threw her arms around him from the back. He struggled with her like a crazy person and broke away from her.

"No!" she shouted. "Stop! Gabe! Come back!"

An instant later the fire reached the gas tank. With a deafening roar the car exploded.

Jill stood in the crowd, holding Gabe's guitar, behind a wooden barrier the fire fighters had set up. The ruined hulk of the car continued to smolder, and the air was filled with the stench of burned rubber and gasoline.

In front of the barricade, Gabe, his clothes and face still covered with dust and soot from being blown to the sidewalk when the car exploded, was talking to the fire chief and two police officers. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but Gabe was gesturing angrily, pacing and shaking his head. She had never seen him so upset.

Why did this have to happen? she asked herself. Everything had been so perfect.

Finally the officials finished with Gabe and he came back to Jill. "I don't believe it!" he said. "They wanted to know if I set the car on fire!"

"They probably have to ask questions like that," said Jill.

"Why would I do it?" he went on. "And it's not even my car! It's my father's!"

"I'm so sorry," Jill said. "I'm sure he'll understand it wasn't your fault."

"He's only had the car a few months," Gabe went on. "I can't believe it!"

He began to pace up and down the sidewalk. "Do you know what the fire chief said? He said they won't know for sure till the car cools down, but it looks like arson."

"Arson!" Jill tried to sound shocked, but she wasn't really. "Who would do such a thing? And why?"

"Why is easy," said Gabe. "Jealousy. As for who--well, I have some ideas about that."

An hour later Jill sat staring at her telephone, feeling cold and sick inside.

"The fire game has to stop," she said out loud.

Ever since Gabe had told her that the fire chief suspected arson, Jill had known who set the fire.

It was Nick.

It had to be.

It was his "turn," after all. Gabe hadn't let him forget it for a minute.

Even worse, Gabe suspected Nick too. Diane must have told him how Nick felt about Jill. But could he really have done such a terrible thing out of jealousy?

Maybe Gabe had really pushed Nick too far the other night.

In any case, Jill meant to find out.

She picked up the phone and punched in Nick's number.

"Hello?" Nick's voice sounded groggy.

"Nick, it's Jill," she said.

"Oh, yeah? How you doing? What time is it?"

"It's a little past midnight," she said. Then she took a deep breath and plunged right in. "Nick, how can you possibly sleep after what you did?"

"Huh?"

"I know what you did tonight," she went on. "Don't bother to deny it."

"Why should I deny it?" said Nick, sounding slightly more awake. "I was home alone all night. I watched The Fly--the old one and the new one."

"You did more than that."

"What are you talking about?" Nick sounded genuinely puzzled.

"Nick, I know that you set the fire. It had to be you."

"What fire?"

"Are you denying that you set Gabe's car on fire?"

"Someone set Gabe's car on fire?" said Nick. Then suddenly his voice turned angry. "Of course I deny it! How can you accuse me?"

"Well," said Jill, "it was your turn next. Everyone knows that."

"Well, you're not supposed to be everyone! You're supposed to be my friend."

"Nick, it's okay," Jill pleaded. "You can tell me. I just called because I think the fires have to stop."

"I didn't set the fire," said Nick, "and if you don't believe me, that's your problem!"

Jill was about to protest again, but before she could, Nick hung up on her.

Suddenly Jill was worried about more than just the fire game. She was worried about Nick too. This whole thing had gone much too far.

She glanced nervously at her bedside clock, then decided to call Andrea.

She was never going to be able to sleep anyway, and Andrea usually stayed up late watching TV.

"Hello?" With relief, Jill heard Andrea's wide-awake voice.

"Hi, it's Jill," she said.

"What are you doing home so soon?" said Andrea. "I thought you had a date with Gabe tonight."

"Well, I did," said Jill. "And that's what I want to talk to you about."

"I hope you're not going to ask me to break my date with him," said Andrea. "Because I won't."

"No, no," said Jill. "Listen to me. Something terrible happened. There was another fire."

"Really?" Andrea sounded interested. "What did he set on fire this time?"

"It wasn't Gabe who set the fire," Jill said. "It was Nick. At least, I think it was. He set Gabe's car on fire. It exploded."

"Really?" Andrea sounded even more interested. "That must have been awesome. I wish I'd been there."

"It wasn't awesome. It was horrible," said Jill. "Gabe was so upset I couldn't even talk to him, and Nick denies that he did it, and I just don't know what to do."

"Hey, calm down. You sound really upset."

"I am. Andrea, we've got to make the guys stop setting fires."

"What do you want to do? Follow them around with a fire extinguisher?"

"Andrea--"

"Though come to think of it," Andrea went on, "I wouldn't mind following Gabe around. . . ."

"Will you be serious?"

"I am serious," Andrea said. "But I don't really think it's as big a deal as you think it is. I mean, sure, it's terrible that Gabe's car burned up, but maybe it'll all stop now. After all, they've each set one fire."

"True," said Jill.

"Anyway, there's nothing we can do about it tonight. What I'd really like to talk about is your--excuse the expression--hot date. Except for the fire, how was it?"

"It was nice," Jill said, suddenly feeling very sad. "It was nicer than I expected it to be."

"But the fire ruined things? Is that what you're saying?"

"Sort of," Jill admitted.

"Well, too bad," Andrea said. "Maybe I'll be luckier when I see Gabe on Thursday."

"Yeah, maybe," Jill said. "Well, I'll talk to you tomorrow."

After she hung up, Jill felt worse than ever. She got ready for bed, then pulled the covers up and closed her eyes. She tried to remember how wonderful she had felt with Gabe in the park, but the memory was already fading. When she tried to picture him playing the guitar and singing to her, all she could visualize was his angry expression after the car burned.

What would happen when he went out with Andrea? she wondered. Would he sing the same songs to her, hold her hand, kiss Andrea the way he had kissed her?

And what about the fire game? Would it really be over now, as Andrea predicted?

Much later, Jill was awakened by a familiar--and now terrifying--smell: smoke. Her heart thudding in her chest, she sat straight up in bed. No, she thought. Not here. It can't be.

The smell grew stronger, and she realized she had to warn her parents.

She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound would come out. It was as if the smoke were choking her, choking back her voice.

Feeling faint and weak, she struggled out of bed and down the hall, calling to her parents, but the sound that came out was only a feeble squeak.

More frightened than ever, she pulled open their bedroom door and saw their bed empty.

No!

She was alone.

Alone with the fire.

She turned and ran down the hall. The reflection of red and orange flames came from somewhere downstairs. She stumbled down the stairs, fighting for breath with every step, feeling as if her body weighed a thousand pounds.

The glow of the fire was coming from the kitchen. Terrified, yet drawn to it, she followed the glow and saw that flames were coming out of the stove.

Frantic, she ran for the bucket in the closet, then filled it with water and poured it over the stove. Again and again she filled the bucket and doused the fire. Finally it sputtered and sizzled out. The stove in front of her was blackened with soot.

Terrified of what she would find, she opened the oven, where the fire seemed to have started.

"Oh, no! No! Please--no!" There, black and charred, lay the body of Mittsy.

With her own scream ringing in her ears, Jill sat bolt upright in bed.

It had been a nightmare. A dreadfully vivid nightmare.

Mittsy was alive and well, curled up next to her on the covers.

She clutched the soft little cat and hugged her close.

I'll never get back to sleep, she thought. She got up and went downstairs to the kitchen. There was no trace of fire. Not the slightest smell of smoke.

She opened the refrigerator and poured a glass of milk.

It was only a dream, she thought again. A nightmare. But part of the nightmare was real. The part that had to do with the fire game.

It had to stop. It just had to.

I hate algebra, Jill thought, staring at a page full of mysterious symbols. It was going to take her the entire study period just to get started on these stupid problems. "I hate it," she whispered aloud.

Behind her, someone whispered in her ear, "What do you hate?" It was Nick. It was the first thing he'd said to her since he hung up on her the other night.

"Algebra," Jill said, surprised and relieved. "I hate algebra."

"It's not so bad," whispered Nick, slipping into the empty seat beside her. "You just have to look at it the right way. I bet you were never good at fractions, were you?"

"No," said Jill. "But so what? I'm just missing the part of the brain that does math."

"Probably," agreed Nick. He looked up, then was silent a moment as Mr.

Borden, the study-hall monitor, walked by. When the teacher had gone, he resumed whispering. "Hey, bet I can show you some things about fractions that will make algebra a snap."

"Really?" Jill couldn't help smiling. "I'll believe it when I see it. But if it works, it would be great"

"It'll work," said Nick. "Why don't you come over to my house tonight and we can get started?"

Jill thought a moment. "Sure. Why not? Thanks, Nick."

Driving over to Nick's house, Jill felt optimistic once again. Not only was she going to get help with her algebra, she might also be able to talk to Nick about the fire game. To get him to promise never to set another fire.

She'd decided that was the best way to do it--to get the guys one by one to agree to stop.

Nick really liked her, and even if he had set Gabe's car on fire, she was sure he would listen to her.

She turned the corner onto Front Street and was about to pull up in front of Nick's house when she saw a familiar car backing out of the driveway.

It was Nick's father's station wagon, and Nick and Max were in the front seat.

"Hey!" she called, rolling down the window. "Hey, guys!"

Either they didn't hear her or they were deliberately ignoring her, because the car continued roaring down the street.

What's going on? she wondered. Had Nick forgotten the study date, or was he playing some kind of mean trick on her?

She decided to find out.

Staying behind the brown station wagon but not getting too close to it, she started to follow the boys. At first she was afraid that they would see her, but they were busy talking to each other, not paying any attention to who might be behind them.

For a moment, going through the center of town, she lost the car, but then picked it up again as it turned north on Old Mill Road.

Where are they going? she wondered.

She continued to follow the car until Nick signaled for a right turn onto Fear Street.