Fortune's Journey Read Online Free PDF Page B

was to get things settled down.
    Mr. Patchett was moving to the edge of the stage when the second of the two men clambered up onto it. Lunging past Mr. Patchett, he grabbed for Walter. “C’mere, you weasel! I wanna teach you a lesson!”
    Walter stepped aside. It did no good. The man stumbled after him. “C’mere, I said!”
    Reaching up to grab Walter’s shoulder, he gave it a fierce yank. Walter turned, raising an enormous arm to ward off the man’s fist.
    That was all it took to send the drunk sprawling to the floor. His outstretched arm struck one of the oil lanterns that lined the edge of the stage. It rolled off, cracked, and spilled oil across the floor.
    The still burning wick touched off the oil spill. Flames raced along the oil, creating a low wall of fire across the front of the stage.
    Cries of terror erupted from the audience. As a mass they leaped up and began scrambling for the doors.
    Fortune grabbed Mrs. Watson’s arm. “We’ve got to get out!” she cried. “Let’s go!”
    At that moment the blaze jumped to the curtain strung on the men’s side of the stage. In a flash the fabric was engulfed in flame. Thick smoke billowed out, making it impossible to see across the stage.
    Fortune began to cough. Her eyes were smarting. She let go of Mrs. Watson to rub them, only to find that made things worse. In the distance she could hear people screaming.
    She reached for Mrs. Watson again, but the woman was gone. Fortune stumbled forward, her arms stretched before her. The smoke was so dense she couldn’t see. Where were the others?
    A momentary break in the smoke showed her that ahead and to her left Mr. Patchett was leading Walter toward the door.
    Where are Aaron and Edmund? And what’s happened to Mrs. Watson?
    Suddenly a sound caught at Fortune’s throat. She recognized Nancy Conaway’s voice. The child was trapped somewhere in the loft, crying for help.
    Lifting her skirt in front of her face, Fortune made her way in the direction of the child’s cries. The heat was intense, searing her skin, her lungs. A spark caught at the edge of her dress. With a strength born of terror she tore off the outer skirt and threw it away from her, grateful for the trousers she wore beneath it.
    Nancy shouted for help again.
    â€œWhere are you?” cried Fortune, coughing on the smoke that billowed around her.
    â€œHere!” screamed the child. “Here!”
    Suddenly Fortune could see her. Racing forward, she swept the child into her arms. Nancy flung herself around Fortune’s neck and clung to her desperately.
    Fortune turned and began to stumble toward the front of the loft. But the smoke was thicker now. She was choking and coughing, and her eyes were burning so fiercely she could hardly see. Yet she continued to move forward until a spurt of flame shot up beside her. She stopped. It was useless. She couldn’t go on.
    A beam fell from the roof, crashing nearby.
    Nancy let out a cry of terror and squeezed Fortune’s neck even more tightly. The terror of the helpless thing in her arms seemed to give Fortune new strength. Ducking her head, she forced herself to take another ten steps.
    But the smoke was too much for her. She felt herself begin to sway.
    Then someone reached out to take the child from her arms. Relieved of her burden, Fortune sank to the floor, the flames swirling around her.

Chapter Four
    Strong arms folded about Fortune. Someone lifted her from the floor.
    Aaron! she thought deliriously. He knew I was in trouble and came back to get me.
    The flames were still roaring. The smoke was thick and choking. But she was safe. Resting her head against his chest, she drifted in and out of consciousness, content to let him take care of her now.
    A dull explosion thundered somewhere behind them. Ahead, another beam crashed to the floor. She let out a scream that was stifled because her mouth was pressed against his chest.