Free The Nightmare Game by Gillian Cross Page A

take the first bike as Tom worked it loose. A few seconds later, he had all three of them and Tom was backing out into the garden.
    â€œLet’s go,” Emma said cheerfully. She took her own bike and began to push it up the garden, waving at the window where the flashlight was still shining.
    The girl didn’t give any signal in reply. But as they reached the gate she turned off the flashlight and they had a brief glimpse of her standing in the window. She had a small child on each side of her now. They were both whining and tugging at her clothes and she kept thrusting their hands away irritably.
    â€œIt’s not right ,” Tom said as he pushed the gate open.
    â€œPerhaps their mom’s ill,” said Robert. “Or maybe she’s just a heavy sleeper. It’s probably no big deal.”
    â€œYes it is,” Tom said stubbornly. “She’s always leaving them alone. Can’t you tell ? Someone ought to do something.”
    Why did he think he knew? And why was he getting so agitated about it? “Isn’t there enough to worry about already?” Robert said. “At least those three have a roof over their heads.”
    â€œAnd plenty of food, I expect,” said Emma. “Not like some people.”
    Tom scowled at them both. “Don’t start going on about the cavern again. Haven’t you ever thought there might be worse things than nightbirds and hedge-tigers? Wasn’t Hope’s life worse than that, before we rescued her?”
    â€œOf course it was,” Robert said. “In a way. But—”
    How could he explain what it was like to live in constant physical danger? Tom knew that nightbirds and hedge-tigers were owls and weasels—but he couldn’t understand how different they were when they loomed over you with outstretched claws or sharp and savage teeth. If you could only see, just for a minute . . .
    But Tom wasn’t interested. Without waiting for Robert to finish, he jumped onto his bike and pedaled off.
    Emma pulled a face. “Well, at least you can’t say he’s a zombie,” she said wryly. “He’s certainly got a mind of his own.” She set off after Tom and Robert pedaled along slowly behind her. Still wondering.
    It wasn’t like Tom to be short-tempered and impatient. Something strange had happened to him. He certainly wasn’t blank and empty, but he wasn’t like himself either. He’d never been so vague and erratic before. What had changed him?
    And did it have anything to do with Hope—with Lorn—and the people down in the cavern?
    Robert’s head was bursting with questions. He didn’t know any of the answers, but he knew that he had to talk to Tom. As soon as possible. I’ll do it first thing in the morning , he said to himself as he cycled off down the road.
    Â 
    BUT OVERNIGHT THE TEMPERATURE DROPPED, WITHOUT WARNING. And that put everything else out of his head.
    As soon as he woke up, he knew that something had changed. A narrow strip of sky showed pale and clear between the curtains, and when he pulled them apart he saw the dark leaves of the front hedge crisp with frost. Under the streetlamps, the grass verges beyond glimmered icy-orange. Last year, he’d seen the same thing and thought, How beautiful.
    Now he thought of death.
    Last year, he hadn’t known what it was like to live in a cavern under the ground, with no kind of heating except a brazier that burned little scraps of wood. Last year, he’d thought that the life he lived was the only kind of life that there was. He’d been very unhappy, but he hadn’t been in danger of dying.
    Now, as he looked at the frost, he could almost feel the cold air filtering down into the cavern where Lorn and the others slept. The brazier couldn’t give out any more heat. There were already two people stoking it constantly, day and night, and it was burning flat out. How could they all survive