walls and the ceiling. He went to the register and searched for a lighter and found a bunch of them in a plastic bin, near the cigarettes. He squirted lighter fluid on the register and on the little table behind him. The can was empty now, too, and he stumbled toward the window he’d broken earlier. He climbed out, stepping on broken glass, hearing it crack and pop. Standing by the side of the house, he flicked the lighter and held it against the gas-soaked wall, watching as the wood caught fire. At the back of the house, he touched the flame to the stairs and the flames rose quickly, shooting up to the door and spreading to the roof. Next came the far side.
Fire blossomed everywhere, the exterior rippling with flame, and Erin was a sinner and her lover was a sinner and the Bible says They will suffer the punishment of eternal destruction.
He stood back, watching the fire start to consume the building, wiping his face, leaving trails of blood. In the glowing orange light, he looked like a monster.
In her dream, Jo wasn’t smiling as she sat beside Katie on the Ferris wheel. She seemed to be searching the crowd below, a frown of concentration on her face.
There, she said, pointing. Over there. Do you see him?
What are you doing here? Where’s Kristen?
She’s sleeping. But you have to remember, now.
Katie looked but there were so many people, so much movement. Where? she asked. I don’t see anything.
He’s here, Jo said.
Who?
You know.
In her dream, the Ferris wheel lurched to a stop. The sound was loud, like the shattering of glass, and it seemed to signal a change. The carnival’s colors began to fade, the scene below dissolving into cloud banks that hadn’t been there a moment before. As if the world were slowly being erased, and then everything suddenly dimmed. She was surrounded by impenetrable darkness, broken only by an odd flickering at the periphery of her vision, and the sound of someone talking.
Katie heard Jo’s voice again, almost a whisper.
Can you smell it?
Katie sniffed, still lost in the haze. Her eyes fluttered open, stinging for some reason as she tried to clear her sight. The television was still on and she realized she must have fallen asleep. The dream was already fading away but she heard Jo’s words clearly in her head.
Can you smell it?
Katie took a deep breath as she pushed herself to a sitting position and immediately started coughing. It took only an instant to realize that the room was filled with smoke. She bolted off the couch.
Smoke meant fire, and now she could see the flames outside the window, dancing and twisting orange. The door was on fire, smoke billowing from the kitchen in thick clouds. She heard roaring, a sound like a train, heard cracks and pops and splintering, her mind taking it in at once.
Oh, my God. The kids.
She ran toward the hallway, panicked at the sight of heavy smoke billowing from both rooms. Josh’s room was closest and she rushed in, waving her arms against the stinging black fog.
She reached the bed and grabbed Josh’s arm, dragging him up.
“Josh! Get up! The house is on fire! We’ve got to get out!”
He was about to whine, but she pulled him up, cutting him off. “C’mon!” she screamed. He immediately began to cough, doubled over as she dragged him out. The hallway was an impenetrable wall of smoke, but she rushed forward nonetheless, pulling Josh behind her. Groping, she found the doorjamb to Kristen’s room across the hall.
It wasn’t as bad as Josh’s room, but she could feel the enormous heat building behind them. Josh continued to cough and wail, struggling to keep up, and she knew better than to let go. She raced to Kristen’s bedside and shook her, pulling her out of bed with her other hand.
The roaring of the fire was so loud, she could barely hear the sound of her own voice. Half-carrying, half-dragging the kids back out into the hallway, she saw an orange glow, barely visible through the smoke, where the entrance to the hallway was. The wall crawled with fire, flames on the ceiling, moving toward them. She didn’t have time to think, only had time to react. She turned and pushed the kids back down the hallway toward the master bedroom, where the smoke was less thick.
She rushed into the room, flicking on the light. Still working. Alex’s bed stood against one wall, a chest