Nightmares in the Dreamhouse

by David Churchill

  “All her cat boxes and everything, all smashed up!” Gary said angrily.

  Then Abby said, awkwardly, “Matt, your... your pictures. Even your brilliant pictures, they're all... ”

  She paused, watching his face, to see if she dared go on. But his reaction surprised her.

  “It doesn't matter now,” he said quickly. “None of it. We've got to go.”

  They stared at him, amazed.

  “It's those two,” he said. “They know all about this place. We've got to get out now, before it's too late! John told me. He must have been hearing me all the time. He just couldn't do anything.”

  He gabbled the story too fast for them to take it in properly and when Abby tried to sort out how John could have known anything at all about any of it, the urgency swept over him again.

  “There isn't time,” he cried. “Come on -”

  But even as he turned back towards the cellar, dragging Gary by the sleeve, there was a thud followed by a fierce hissing noise. He stopped dead. The others, coming from behind, nearly pushed him against the door. As the first firework exploded, a brilliant light shone round the edges of the door followed by a bang. Under attack, they spun round and stampeded back into the hallway.

  By then the whole bundle of fireworks was going off at once, with shrieks and crashes, all amplified by the confined space of the cellar. There were flickers of coloured lights and a trace of black smoke filtering into the kitchen. As they stood in a terrified huddle the noises tailed off, but in the sudden quiet they heard something worse - the unmistakable clang of the manhole cover being dropped into place.

  And then the explosion.

  There was a huge whoomph of sound and the cellar door burst open. The glare of light was blinding. Heat rushed at their faces and horror froze them there, as smoke mushroomed up into the kitchen. There was a second explosion, but by then they had turned and run, hurling themselves up the stairs, Gary slamming the kitchen door behind him as he went.

  Now on the landing, peering fearfully down, they could see the first tentacles of smoke feeling their way up towards them. The crackling and hissing and banging of a raging fire were growing louder and louder.

  “The whole house is going to burn!” Abby gasped.

  “It was that Roy,” Cherry hissed.

  “And them cans,” Gary said. “I always thought we should chuck them out, but I didn't know where... ”

  “We're trapped,” Matthew said. “John knew... There's no way out. No windows. We're going to be - ”

  But Gary was already moving. He dragged the ladder from where it had been pitched into Matthew's room and pushed it up into the attic space.

  “Come on, quick,” he panted, “up in the attics. Follow me!”

  He scrambled up the ladder himself and with no other option, they followed. It seemed ages for Matthew, at the end of the line, while Gary, then Cherry, then Abby clambered up into the darkness. He glanced back down at the moment when the hall door suddenly twisted and burst open, revealing a blazing kitchen. The noises of bursting wood and cracking bricks were terrible. Risking a kick from Abby's feet he hauled himself madly up after her.

  Once in the loft he could see by the glare that the others were already clambering through into next door's roof space. At last it was his turn and the rough brickwork was rasping against his legs and hands and he was falling awkwardly on to the pieces of wood that Gary had put there.

  Down on his knees now, sobbing for breath, he went after the sound of the others. The heat was rising and smoke was following. He had to stop for a moment to give a choking cough and rub his eyes. He had a horrible feeling that the fire was going to grab him from behind and they wouldn't know he'd been taken by it. At least the flickering light, brighter every minute, broke up the blackness.

  He found someone - Cherry, was it? - waiting for him.

  “Go on, I'll bunk you over,” she said, coughing as she spoke.

  Over that wall and then on again, crawling and struggling and bashing hands and wrists against the splintery wood and the rubble, to the next barrier. Waiting in agony for Gary and Abby to clear it then heaving and scraping over, with another boost from Cherry, to drop down again, this time on a proper floor.

  It was easier here, but Matthew crashed into a sharp-edged box - that must be the books and comics - then there was a hold-up.

  They had to wait while Gary was pulling out bricks and passing them back where invisible hands took them and dropped them, anywhere. This was the wall he'd rebuilt. Smoke was thickening around them and Abby dragged on Matthew's arm to make him crouch like Cherry, where the smoke was thinner. Gary changed technique, pushing at the bricks so that they fell away into the next house, but he was still upright, heaving and choking as if he was going to die. Then suddenly his legs were waving above their heads and he was gone.

  “Go on Matt,” Abby spluttered, and put her arms round to heave him over the jagged bricks. He sprawled down beside Gary, painful on the rubble, and in a moment Cherry cascaded on top, followed by a choking Abby.

  Gary heaved himself on, jerking aside the loft trap. A bright rectangle of light shone up, lighting the wreathes of smoke that came curling after them, over the gap in the wall.

  For a moment the four were still. Gary looked down.

  “Too high,” he croaked. “No ladder.”

  “I know,” Cherry said. “Like this.”

  She sat on the edge, feet dangling. Then she leaned forward and gripped the wooden framework and let her body slide down into space. For a moment she swung there, then let go and dropped, landing neatly, feet together, on the carpet. Stepping aside she called up, “Come on, I'll catch you.”

  Abby followed her at once, her long legs not having far to fall. Matthew hesitated, it looked so far down, but Gary said, “Go on Matt, quick!” and so Matthew let himself swing out and fall, expecting to break his legs, but Abby had wrapped her arms round him as soon as she could reach and he landed safely.

  “Watch out,” Gary said and he came crashing down beside them. He thumped into Cherry who had to grab on to him or she would have gone flying down the stairs.

  For an instant they stood, holding on to each other, amazed that they had escaped. Not far away, and coming closer every instant, the fire was raging. Wood was exploding like gunshots, and a red glow showed in the loft opening.

  Then Gary said, “We've got to get him out - that man.”

  Cherry led the way as they plunged down the stairs, along the passage and into the couple's living-room.

  33. you did! she screamed. You knew

  Roy had said, “Don't worry darling, it's just smoke and a bit of noise. It's bonfire night, remember. Got to have some fireworks. Now give me that lighter.”

  He moved to the hole and arranged the metal cover right at the edge. Then he eased a lump of concrete nearer, ready for use.

  “Come and enjoy the show,” he said to Karen, who unwillingly moved half a step closer.

  He stood the fireworks on the cover, flicked the lighter and held it to one of the touchpapers. He waited for the fizz then, with his foot, he neatly nudged the whole bundle down into the darkness. Standing back a little he watched happily as first one, and then the whole bundle, began to explode, lighting up the cellar quite dramatically.

  As they began to splutter out he stepped forwards and raised the cover, swinging it above the hole. Then he let it drop with a satisfying clang. He was just turning slightly away from it, to reach for the concrete block when, with a roar, it went for him.

  There was a huge boom from below and he found himself flying backwards, bashed by the rising cover, crashing into Karen and the two of them sprawling agonisingly into rubbish and brambles and bricks.

  Karen's back struck something solid and pointed and for a few moments she was so winded that breathing was impossible and she just lay there fighting a painful battle to suck air into her lungs before she blacked out completely.

  Gradually the pain in her ribs decreas
ed and she was able to breathe more normally. Smoke was spreading above her and she looked quickly for Roy. Where the coal-hole had been, a geyser of fire was gushing wickedly up into the sky.

  In its fierce glow she saw him nearby, crouched with his face in his hands and blood running down his forehead. For minutes they cowered there, doing nothing, utterly shocked.

  Somewhere inside the houses there was a muffled crash, and from the manhole in front of them the red and blue tongues of flame roared. Heat was searing their faces as they lurched back away from it. When tiles began to slide and crash down from the roof they moved farther, backing through the rubbish and into the alley.

  Karen twisted her head away from the flames, clutching her mouth in horror. She turned wide, staring eyes on Roy.

  Tears and blood and dirt smeared his face.

  “I didn't... ” he began. “I didn't - ”

  “You did!” she screamed at him. “You knew - ”

  “I didn't mean it,” he said. “Not that. Not them. I never thought - ”

  Flame surged through the roof of the house, spiking up into the night sky, and tiles slid from the caving roof to splinter into flying daggers as they struck the ground. The two of them flinched back in the flickering shadows. Suddenly, Roy was sick.

  Karen said,” We ought to... ” but she didn't go on. There wasn't anything to do. She knew it was far too late.

  34. they've got to get out. It's all going up

  It was so strange, with the fire raging closer ever minute, to be in someone's living room. As they stood in a bunch just inside the door, Abby, Cherry and Matthew were embarrassed; it was different for Gary because he felt that he knew the two people in the room who were staring at them in amazement.

  A little, elderly lady was looking up over her knitting, not believing her eyes as she tried to cope with the sudden invasion of her living room by four ragged-looking teenagers, streaked with dust and smoke. The big man his arm chair, zimmer and a glass of beer close by, was turning away from the loud football commentary that he had been watching on TV, grabbing for a bottle that was down by his side.

  “Er... er... excuse me... us,” Abby said, surprised how croaky her voice came out, “but do you know your house is nearly on fire?”

  There was a moment's quiet in the commentary and the roar and crackle of the fire could clearly be heard. Then there was a crash and a shudder as an inside wall somewhere collapsed.

  Instantly the little lady was on her feet and at her husband's chair.

  “I thought I smelled burning just now. Thought it was fireworks. Help me with Jim,” she commanded.

  Gary was there first, beside her, Cherry next, and the heavy man was eased to his feet. Almost, he slumped back down but they all worked together to prop him up until he had a firm grip on the zimmer. Then, agonisingly slowly, he began to inch his way towards the door while they hovered round him, desperately wanting to speed him up.

  “The back door's closer,” the woman said. “Didn't I lock it?”

  True to form, Abby slipped ahead into the kitchen, turned the key and unslid the bolt. If that's the way they were supposed to have got in then it had better look like it, she thought. But behind her there was a cry and a clatter. She turned to see that Jim's legs had given way and he had crashed to the floor taking Gary down with him.

  She rushed to help, but trying to lift him was hopeless. His wife was beginning to panic and they were getting in each other's way. Gary's leg was trapped under the frame and Jim's weight was across it. They were straining to raise him, but they were weak themselves from what they had already been through.

  Cherry said, “We need help. Get some Matt!”

  Matthew ran out of the kitchen into the neat back garden. He had a glimpse of flames leaping out of the roof of the house that had once been theirs and a horrible blazing crack running down the wall of the end house beyond it. Almost at once he ran straight into two people, and in the glow of the fire he saw who they were. They'd have to do.

  “Help!” he said. “Got to get them out!” and took off back in a stumbling run.

  Back in the kitchen, things were desperate. Jim was still on the floor, half way through the doorway, Gary had managed to drag his leg free and was sitting rubbing it, with tears of pain in his eyes. The woman was on her knees, tugging feebly at her husband's shoulder, and the others were standing helpless, unable to get close enough to lift him, even if they had the strength.

  “Leave me here,” Jim said, raising his head to glare at them. “Get yourselves out. Go on Amy. Leave me. That's an order.”

  But at that point Roy and Karen came running into the kitchen. They stopped dead, shock piled on shock, seeing the four friends and the tangle in the doorway. But a new eye on the problem worked.

  Cherry shouted, “We can't lift him!”

  “Then drag him,” Roy said. “Come round here Gary.”

  Suddenly better, Gary clambered up and stepped over Jim's legs. They gripped the man under his arms and started a slow progress on through the door and into the kitchen. Although he was trying to help by pushing at the floor with his big hands, he was still telling them to leave him and save themselves, and Gary was feeling that his back was going to break, when there was suddenly enough room for the others to get alongside and push and shove and tug until the backdoor was reached, and the path outside. Then, with more space they were able to get under him and lift him a little and so, half-carrying, half-dragging, get him down the path and out into the safety of the backway.

  Looking back, once he was safely propped up against a wall, they saw the fire properly. It was a terrifying sight. It had advanced so fast. Next-door but one was alight, right through to its roof, and smoke was beginning to seep out through the tiles of the one next door. The woman gave a strangled cry.

  “All my things,” she was sobbing. “My precious photographs!” and then she did scream. “The cat!”

  “Come on!” Cherry yelled, her strength returning fast, and she pelted back down the path and into the house. Karen was close behind. They ran into semi-darkness. The lights had gone

  “Make a chain!” Abby screeched and they understood.

  Despite having to work in the gloom, within a moment Cherry was at the door with an armful of framed photographs off the living room wall. She thrust them at Abby who was just inside and who handed them out to Matthew who passed them to Gary. Gary ran part-way up the path to Roy who took them right out into the alley and dumped them by Jim and Amy before running back for more.

  Next to come were two drawers pulled out of the sideboard by Karen, with papers and pictures fluttering from the top one. Then Cherry with more pictures, followed by Karen with another drawer. Then there were pieces of china, the knitting, a pile of books, a little corner cupboard, a big wooden clock off the mantelpiece, a silver cup, all flowing at frantic haste until the woman, propping up her husband in a sitting position, was rapidly being surrounded by her household treasures. With desperate urgency Karen and Cherry kept appearing at the door alternately, to dump whatever it was that they had grabbed.

  Once, Cherry screamed to Abby, “Ask her where the cat is!”

  Inside it was getting hot and smoke was beginning to filter down into the rooms. Cherry, diving back into the hallway, met Karen with her arms full of saucepans.

  “Leave the kitchen!” she cried. “What about upstairs?”

  With a crash Karen threw the pans back into the kitchen and raced up after her. It was smokier up there and they worked frantically. Clutching a small box of jewellery, Cherry reached the bottom of the stairs to find Abby back.

  “She says look under the bed,” Abby panted. “In the front.”

  Cherry thrust the box into her hands and ran back up, squeezing past Karen who had an armful of clothes, coat hangers and all. After dumping the clothes on Abby, Karen rushed back up and was soon down again with a document case under one arm and a box file under the other, while outside the three tore backwards and forward
s. The chain had broken now, and they were running past each other to dump their loads in the comparative safety of the alley.

  In the front bedroom Cherry was lying flat on her stomach trying to see under the bed. It was dark, and she couldn't make out if there was anything there or not. Breathing was getting more and more painful. She knew they only had minutes left.

  “Puss, puss,” she was whispering. “Come on then, quick. Puss, puss, puss.”

  At last there was a little answering yowl.

  Ignoring the danger now, Cherry reached further under. “Come on,” she persuaded. “I won't hurt you.”

  A dry nose nudged her hand and followed it as she slowly drew her arm back towards her. When it was close enough she made one neat grab and seized the cat by the thick fur on the back of its neck. She dragged it out then, surprised at the weight, and wrapped her other arm around it.

  Scrambling up she found that the smoke in the room had thickened so that she had to drop to the floor again. Somehow crawling, with the cat under one arm, she began to struggle towards where she thought the door must be.

  At the same time as Abby arrived back at the foot of the stairs to find nothing to collect, Gary, at the end of the garden, looked up at the house and saw a flame suddenly burst out of the roof, near the chimney. He grabbed Roy's arm as he went to charge back past him.

  “They've got to get out!” he gasped, “It's all going up!”

  Roy was gone, down the path, past Matthew, through the doorway, past Abby standing alarmed at the foot of the stairs and up into smoke and darkness. Gary, following him, reaching Abby and stopped, hearing Roy shouting then coughing somewhere above them.

  Karen, coming out of the front bedroom had suddenly lost her bearings and was beginning to panic and run back in when she heard someone shout her name, a figure loomed in the smoke and she found herself being pushed to the top of the stairs. She grabbed the rail and staggered down, past Gary and Abby and out where there was air to replace the burning stuff in her lungs.

  Crawling about, still clutching the cat which was fighting her now, Cherry knew she was lost. She was retching and choking and she couldn't find the stairs and kept banging her head into walls. Her eyes were screwed tight shut and the noise and the heat and smoke were terrible. Then, just when she knew it was all over, a hand gripped her hair. She let it drag her round and found herself on the edge of the top stair.