Philip saw that half of the dog treat that he had left out for
the reindeers had fallen on to the cream carpet beneath.
“Where’s Lucky, Andy?” Philip asked realising that
the family Labrador had not done his normal friendly
attack as soon as the children came downstairs.
“I don’t know,” said Andy, looking around
confusedly and walking towards the kitchen. It was then
that he noticed that the front door was open. “Mum!” he
shouted, “Lucky has run away!”
Tears sprang instantly to Philips eyes and he began to
sob quietly. Andy rushed past him and started up the stairs.
“Mum! Dad!” he shouted and Philip followed his
lead, calling between small sobs.
“Mummy!”
Andy had already reached the top of the stairs before
Philip had climbed half way and he burst in to his parents’
room.
“Mum! Dad! Lucky has run away!”
There was no movement from beneath the covers
and Andy rushed around to his mum’s side of the bed as
Philip reached the doorway. Andy pulled back the cover
expecting to see his mum’s sleeping face, but she wasn’t
there. He pulled the cover firmly down, uncovering the
side of the bed where his dad always slept.
“Philip, turn the light on,” he said in a shaky voice.
“Daddy won’t be happy,” he said, his sobs more
under control now.
“TURN THE LIGHT ON!”
Philip did and they both looked at the empty bed and
then at each other. Philip’s moans started up again with
more vigour and tears began to well up in Andy’s eyes.
Andy pushed past his brother and checked the
bathroom but the light was off and the room was empty.
“Are they outside, Andy?”
“How am I supposed to know?” he said, his voice
betraying the fear he now felt, and Philip started to cry
harder. So, taking on his big brother role he said, with
more courage than he felt, “Let’s go and look.”
They walked downstairs, hand in hand, slower than
they had ascended, the dark of the living room seeming
more ominous now, despite and perhaps because of the
still flickering lights on the tree. They reached the bottom
and Andy flicked on the main light, showering the room in
a yellow glow and taking away the magical look of
Christmas morning that they had loved when they had first
come down. They walked through into the kitchen, Philip
walking slightly behind his brother but still gripping his
hand tightly. They both looked at the open door at the end
of the short corridor and into the forbidding darkness
outside.
“You stay here,” Andy said to his younger brother,
pulling his hand from Philips grip.
“I don’t want too,” Philip said between sobs.
“Look, I’ll only be there,” Andy pointed at the door.
He mus t have sounded braver than he felt because Philip
offered a small nod and pulled Bob Bear to his tiny chest.
Andy started walking towards the front door, fear
sitting deep in the pit of his stomach, butterflies flapping
around uncontrollably. The cold had begun to seep in,
causing goose bumps to raise on his skin as a shiver went
down his spine.
“Lucky!” Philips happy call made Andy twist round
and look.
Philip was down on his knees facing the wall.
“Here boy,” he said, pinching his fingers together,
feigning the presence of food. “What’s the matter boy? It’s
me, Philip.” Philip turned his head to see Andy looking
from the kitchen doorway.
Lucky stood beneath the kitchen table looking at each
of the boys in turn, his hackles raised and a low deep growl
rumbling from his closed lips.
“What’s the matter boy,” Andy joined in but Lucky
did not stop his growl and would not approach them.
Philip started to shuffle along on his knees, edging
closer to the dog but Lucky’s lips curled up, baring his
teeth. Andy pulled his brother back by his shoulders in
alarm.
“There’s something wrong with him,” he said.
“What?”
Just then, the brothers heard a scream from outside
and they both looked at each other, simultaneously
recognising the voice of their Mum somewhere in that
horrible sound. Andy ran towards the door as Philip
jumped to his feet and followed, leaving Bob Bear alone
on the floor.
They called her name over and over until they
reached the black coldness outside and saw her standing
on the street, in their Dad’s arms surrounded by people
from their road. Mrs Millings from next door was there
and Jamie from across the road. There were other people
too and Andy recognised them all but he was too
preoccupied with his Dad, who was staring at the house,
ignoring his brother and him and their increasingly
anguished calls.
“Dad!” he screamed and Philip shouted the same but
not one person looked towards them.
“Andy, your…”
Andy swivelled round and they both screamed as they
saw each other at the same time. Their clothes had gone,
just patches left, welded to red and blistering skin. Clumps
of hair smouldered on top of their heads. Flames flew out
all around them, licking their blackening skin but they felt
nothing. Lucky cowered beneath the burning table and
shrunk down to his haunches as something upstairs
exploded with a furious bang, shaking the ground and
sending the ceiling directly above their heads crashing
down.
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