A flood of bright light and fresh air swept down the narrow stairwell.
In one of Ralph's beloved films, such moments were usually greeted by screams of triumph and relief, but at first none of the women who had been trapped down here made any sound at all. They only stood in silence, looking up with stunned faces at the rectangle of blue sky Ralph had conjured in the roof of the room most of them had accepted as their grave.
And what will they say later? he wondered. If they really, do survive this, what will they say later? That a skinny man with bushy eyebrows and a lady on the stout side (but with beautiful Spanish eyes materialized in the cellar, broke the lock on the bulkhead door, an pulled them to safety?
He looked down and saw the strangely familiar little boy looking back up at him with large, grave eyes.
There was a hook-shaped scar across the bridge of the boy's nose.
Ralph had an idea that this kid was the only one who had really seen them, even after they had dropped back down to the Short-Time level, and Ralph knew perfectly well what he would say: that angels had come, a man angel and a lady angel, and they had saved them. Should make for an interesting sidebar on the news tonight, Ralph thought.
Yes indeed.
Lisette Benson and John Kirkland would love it.
Lois slapped her hand against one of the support-posts. "Come on, you guys! Get going before the fire gets to the furnace oil-tanks!"
The woman with the little girl moved first. She hoisted her crying child into her arms and staggered upstairs, coughing and weeping.
The others began to follow. The little boy looked up at Ralph admiringly as his mother led him past. "Cool, man," he said.
Ralph grinned at him-he couldn't help it-then turned to Lois and pointed up the stairs. "If I'm not all turned around in my head, that comes out behind the house. Don't let them go around to the front yet.
The cops are apt to blow half of them away before they realize they're shooting the people they came to save."
"All right," she said-not a single question, not another word, and Ralph loved her for that. She went up the stairs at once, pausing only to shift Nat and grab one woman by the elbow when she stumbled.
Now only Ralph and Helen Deepneau were left. "Was that Lois?"
she asked him.
"Yes."
"She had Natalie?"
"Yes." Another large chunk of the cellar's roof fell in, more sparks whooshed up, and runners of fire went racing nimbly along the overhead beams toward the furnace.
"Are you sure?" She clutched at his shirt and looked at him with frantic, swollen eyes. "Are you sure she had Nat?"
"Positive. Let's go now."
Helen looked around and seemed to count in her head. She looked alarmed. "Gretchen!" she exclaimed. "And Merrilee! We have to get Merrilee, Ralph, she's seven months pregnant!"
"She's up there," Ralph said, grabbing Helen's arm when she showed signs of wanting to leave the foot of the stairs and go back into the burning cellar. "She and Gretchen both. Is that everyone else?"
"Yes, I think so."
"Good. Come on. We're getting out of here."
Ralph and Helen stepped out of the bulkhead in a cloud of darkgray smoke, looking like the conclusion of a world-class illusionist's best trick. They were indeed in back of the house, near the clotheslines.
Dresses, slacks, underwear, and bed-linen flapped in the freshening breeze. As Ralph watched, a flaming shingle landed on one of the sheets and set it ablaze. More flames were billowing out of the kitchen windows. The heat was intense.
Helen sagged against him, not unconscious but simply used up for the time being. Ralph had to grab her around the waist to keep her from falling to the ground. She clawed weakly at the back of his neck, trying to say something about Natalie. Then she saw her in Lois's arms and relaxed a little. Ralph got a better grip on her and half-carried, half-dragged her away from the bulkhead. As he did, he saw the remains of what looked like a brand-new padlock on the ground beside the open door. It was split into two pieces and oddly twisted, as if immensely powerful hands had torn it apart.
The women were about forty feet away, huddled at the corner of the house. Lois was facing them, talking to them, keeping them from going any farther. Ralph thought that with a little preparation and a