Fear Street 5 - The Fire Game (13 page)

"Diane, I'm sorry." Jill spoke quickly, trying to get through to her friend. "I never meant to hurt you. I never would have dated Gabe if I'd known how you felt. And I promise--I promise I'll never see him again!"

"It's too late," Diane said coldly.

Jill felt a sudden chill. "What do you mean?"

"What do you think?" said Diane. "I mean you'll never have another chance." She paused, then went on, almost matter-of-factly. "For a while I thought you were different--not like Andrea. When I saw her kissing Gabe, I knew I had to get rid of her."

"But it was your idea for Gabe to write music for her routine."

"I didn't think it would go any further than that," Diane said.

"That's why you hit her?" Jill said.

"No!" Diane sounded annoyed. "I already told you I hit her because she found out that I was the one who framed her for the fire on Fear Street."

"You set the fire?" Jill asked, astonished.

"Fires," said Diane. "That's plural. I also set Gabe's car on fire."

"But why?" The things that Diane was telling Jill seemed crazier and crazier.

"I saw Gabe with a girl in the park that night," Diane told her. "He was singing to her--singing a song he wrote for me. I didn't know it was you.

I thought it was Andrea, because of the way she was coming on to him."

"So you set his car on fire?" Jill asked in disbelief.

"I thought it might keep him from going out with her again," Diane said, sounding calm and reasonable. "Anyway, I didn't want him to see me, and then when I spotted his dad's car, it was easy. He never locks it."

"But how could you have done that? You're terrified of fire!"

Diane's expression changed again, to one of amusement. "That used to be true. But did you ever hear of a love-hate relationship? For a long time I thought fire was my enemy. But now that I know what it can do, fire is my friend."

She's crazy, Jill realized. How could I have known her all these months and not realized?

But maybe, she thought, maybe I helped to push her over the edge. If we hadn't all gotten into the fire game, maybe none of this would have happened.

"Diane," she said gently, again trying to break through to her friend. "I feel so sorry about all this. And I can see that--that my being here is upsetting you. So if you'll just give me my car keys, I'll go on home and we can talk about all this next week."

"Go home?" said Diane. "Why should I let you go home? I planned this weekend, Jill. I got rid of Andrea, and now it's time to get rid of you."

She's smaller than I am, Jill reminded herself. She can't hurt me. She stood up. "Where are my car keys, Diane?"

Diane smiled again and reached into the pocket of her robe. "You mean these?" she said, jingling a set of keys in a black leather key case.

"Give them to me," Jill said.

"If you really want them," Diane said, "get them yourself." She threw the key case into the fireplace, where it disappeared behind a blazing log.

"All right, then, I'll walk," Jill said, starting for the door. The thought of facing the Fear Street woods again was less frightening than staying with Diane another minute.

"Oh, no, you won't!" cried Diane, running after her. She tackled Jill from behind. Jill felt herself falling forward. She hit the floor hard, the breath rushed out of her. Diane had her hands in Jill's hair and began pulling.

"Stop it!" Jill shrieked. "Leave me alone!" She twisted and struggled and finally managed to turn over. But Diane was on top of her again, scratching and hitting her.

"You always thought I was harmless!" Diane gasped between blows. "Sweet, harmless little Diane! Well, what do you think now?"

"Diane, please stop! Don't!"

Jill had her arms up, trying to fend off the blows, but Diane was amazingly strong and quick. "I took a self-defense course last summer,"

Diane said smugly.

Desperately, Jill grabbed at Diane's robe to try to pull Diane off her.

Diane didn't move. But the robe fell from Diane's shoulders. Jill stared at Diane and then screamed in horror.

Crisscrossing Diane's body, from her hips to her shoulders, were long, ropy red scars.

Her body weak with shock and horror, Jill continued to stare at Diane.

Diane stood up, then turned around, almost as if she were modeling a new dress.

The horrible scars continued on her back and the backs of her arms. Jill couldn't even imagine the pain that had produced such hideous scars.

"Seen enough?" Diane asked. "This is what happened to me four years ago.

I was visiting my grandmother when her kerosene heater exploded."

"Oh, Diane." Jill could hardly talk. "How horrible!"

"It was horrible, all right," said Diane. "More than you could imagine in a hundred years. There aren't words for the kind of pain I felt."

"I had no idea," Jill went on. "It's hard to believe you're alive."

"I nearly died," Diane said almost proudly. "The doctors all said I didn't have a chance. But I lived, Jill. And do you know why?"

"No," Jill whispered, unable to tear her eyes from the horrifying sight of Diane's scarred torso.

"It was because of Gabe," Diane said intensely. "He came to see me every day. He brought me assignments from school. He played his guitar and sang songs, just for me. He talked to me. He gave me a reason to go on. A reason to want to fight the pain and live."

"You've been in love with him ever since."

"Yes," Diane said simply. "He is my true soulmate. He gave me life." For a moment her eyes filled with tears; then she blinked them away. "I know Gabe loved me too, but of course he never said anything to me. How could he?"

"I'm sure he cares for you," said Jill, suddenly realizing that her friend was living in a fantasy world where Gabe was her knight in shining armor.

"I know. But we can never be together. My body is ruined. It can never be! It can't be!" Diane shouted, her face twisted with rage. "I've told him that a hundred times!"

Had she really? Jill wondered. Or was this something she had made up in her madness?.

"I know what you're thinking," Diane went on. "You think I'm just imagining that Gabe loves me. That I'm jealous of you and Andrea. Well, you're partly right." She fixed her blue eyes on Jill and spoke slowly and intently. "I can't ever be Gabe's girlfriend, as I told you. But if I can't have him, neither can anyone else--not Andrea and not you, Miss Perfect!"

Bracing for another attack, Jill rolled away as far as she could. But Diane didn't rush at her again. Instead, she went on talking, and Jill listened, at once horrified and fascinated by the things she was hearing.

"Oh, Jill," Diane said. "You're so innocent, almost a baby, really. You don't know anything at all, and you won't--until you have experienced real pain."

"Diane," Jill said gently. "It's not too late for you. You can still get help. I'll go with you to a counselor. Maybe there's a plastic surgeon in New York or someplace--"

Diane laughed bitterly. "Don't try to kid me, Jill! Nobody can fix this!"

She looked down at her body with obvious loathing. "When the boys started their little competition with the fire, you thought it was just fun and games, didn't you?" When Jill didn't answer, she pressed, "Didn't you?"

"Yes," Jill admitted. "But--"

"You didn't realize," Diane went on, "that fire is a very serious thing.

Well, now I'm going to show you just how serious it can be!"

With a sudden motion Diane slipped her robe back on, and then, before Jill could move or say anything, she reached back to her father's workbench and grabbed his blowtorch.

"No!" Jill cried, pulling herself to her feet in panic.

But Diane ran past her and stood directly in front of the cabin door.

"This is how I started the fire on Fear Street. It was a beautiful fire."

She smiled in a dreamy way as she switched the torch on.

Then she aimed it directly at Jill.

"No!" Jill screamed again. She twisted away from Diane and stumbled into the couch. "No! Diane, stop!"

But Diane was right behind her. The couch burst into flames.

Choking on the acrid smoke, Jill ran across the room. She tried to open the window, but it was painted shut. The curtains began to blaze. She twisted away from the searing heat.

Diane was just behind her, laughing maniacally, touching the flame to every object Jill came near. Everything in the cabin was smoldering now.

Gasping from the smoke and superheated air, Jill tried again to reach the cabin door. Diane's jacket, which she was still wearing, caught fire, and she ripped it off in panic.

"Not that way, Jill," said Diane, aiming the blowtorch in her path.

Jill broke away and rushed for the kitchen area.

In the sink sat a big pan full of soapy water.

Without even thinking, Jill grabbed the pan and threw it at Diane. It hit her in the shoulder and drenched her robe. But it didn't even touch the glowing flame of the blowtorch.

"Nice try, Jill," sneered Diane. "But you'll never get away from me now."

Again she aimed the torch at Jill, and again Jill spun away.

"Feel the pain, Jill!" Diane cried. "Feel the pain!"

Jill could feel the blowtorch singe her hair. She screamed and lunged forward, tripping over the ottoman. She fell hard and lay there, trying to catch her breath.

Diane was standing above her now, her face blank with madness, everything in the cabin blazing around her.

She brought the torch down slowly, directly at Jill's face.

Jill shut her eyes in terror, feeling the scorching heat move closer.

And closer.

I'm gone, she thought.

I'm gone.

Then, suddenly, the cabin door burst open.

A blast of cool, cool air blew through the cabin.

"That's enough!" cried a strong, masculine voice.

It was Gabe.

"Do you hear me?" he shouted. "Stop, Diane! Stop now!"

Dazed, Jill watched through the smoke as he grabbed for the torch.

Diane pulled away, surprisingly quick, and Gabe let out a cry of pain as the flame burned his hand. For an endless moment they struggled, Gabe and Diane. Then finally Gabe wrestled the torch from her hand and threw it down.

"Nooo!" Diane wailed. "Noooo!"

Gabe took Diane by the shoulders and pushed her through the flames and smoke out the door. An instant later he returned and pulled Jill outside.

He rolled her over and over on the ground, extinguishing the flames that had begun to catch onto her clothes.

"Are you all right?" he asked at last. His eyebrows were singed, and thick, sooty smoke covered his handsome face.

"I think so," Jill whispered.

Without another word, Gabe turned to Diane, who was kneeling on the cabin lawn, her body shaking with silent sobs. Tenderly Gabe put his arms around her and held her.

Giant flames poured out of the cabin now, and Jill could hear the faint sound of sirens in the distance.

Still holding Diane, Gabe stared at the fire. He began to speak, almost as if to himself.

"Andrea called me," he said. "She told me where you were, Jill. She was afraid you wouldn't believe her."

"I almost didn't," Jill admitted.

His face unbearably sad, Gabe went on, now stroking Diane's hair as he held her close. "Poor Diane. That fire was so long ago. I guess I didn't really want to remember how scared and sick she was. I used to bring her her homework. Her parents said I helped her. So I came. But now my stupid fire game has caused this."

Jill continued to look at Gabe and Diane, silhouetted by the fire. Gabe was still talking, but not to Jill.

Instead, he was tenderly speaking to Diane, telling her again and again,

"It's over, Diane. The fire game is over. It's over for good."