Free The Nightmare Game by Gillian Cross Page B

if it got any colder?
    Zak had spelled out the answer, ruthlessly. Their body mass isn’t big enough to retain the heat. . . . Lorn will die first. She’s very small. . . .
    Frantically Robert started dressing. He had no real plan. All he knew was that he had to do something . Pushing his feet into his sneakers, he went out onto the landing—and bumped into Emma as she emerged from the bathroom.
    She saw him heading for the stairs and pulled a face. “What are you doing? Aren’t you going to wash?”
    He couldn’t believe she was being so trivial. “Haven’t you looked outside? It’s frosty .”
    â€œSo?” Emma said. “That doesn’t mean—” And then she got it, and her eyes widened. “Oh, of course . What are you going to do?”
    â€œI’m going to the park,” Robert said gruffly. “I don’t know what use I can be, but I can’t just sit around here.”
    â€œBut suppose Mr. Armstrong’s watching already?”
    â€œI’ll just have to be careful. If you come, too, one of us can keep a lookout.”
    â€œOK.” Emma nodded quickly. “Give me a couple of seconds.”
    While she was dressing, Robert went quickly downstairs and found a few currants and a piece of bread to take to the cavern. It was frustrating to see all the tins heaped up in the cupboard. There was lots of food in the house, but none of it was any use to Lorn and the others. He could only give them a few tiny fragments at a time.
    Emma came running down the stairs, calling over her shoulder. “Rob and I are just going out for a walk. We’ll come back and have some breakfast before we go to school.” They went out quickly, before their mother had a chance to reply.
    The park hadn’t opened yet and the big memorial gates opposite their house were tightly shut, but that was just a formality. There was a fence most of the way down the side of the park, but once they’d walked past that and reached the woods at the far end, there was nothing to stop them heading straight into the trees.
    The woods were still dark, their narrow, twisting paths shaded by tangles of brambles and gaunt, leafless branches. They hurried along one of the paths, toward the hedge that separated the woods from the playing fields.
    When they reached the hedge, Robert led the way along the little ditch just inside it. Even in the dim light, he knew exactly where to cross the ditch, but he took his time, stepping very slowly and placing his foot down carefully on the other side. While he was still glancing around, to make sure that no one was watching them, Emma dropped onto her knees and peered into the shadows under the hedge.
    â€œLook,” she whispered. “It’s sheltered. There’s no frost here.”
    Robert knelt down beside her. He ran his hands lightly across the hedge bank until he found the tiny tunnel entrance. Emma was right. The ground was very cold, but not frozen. Step by step, he walked his fingers up the bank to the little patch of warmer earth, close under the bushes.
    â€œThe fire’s still going,” he murmured.
    â€œA bit more insulation might help.” Emma leaned forward and scooped up a handful of dry leaves from under the hedge.
    â€œCareful!” Robert said sharply. The picture in his mind was clear and violent. Thick fingers digging. Heavy. Hard. Nails crashing into soft flesh and crushing tiny bones . . .
    â€œI know, I know,” Emma said. “But we’ve got to do something, haven’t we? We can’t worry about every little danger.”
    She knew she was wrong, though. Robert could tell from the way her movements changed. She arranged the leaves carefully down the slope, not scattering them at random but placing them, one by one. As she reached up for more, she slid her fingers gently into the brittle heaps.
    When there was a thick layer of leaves all down the slope, she sat back on