The Final Nightmare by Rodman Philbrick

the front door. The smell of burning wood grew stronger and Sally began to cough and choke on the rising smoke, hugging the mangy teddy bear to her chest.
    It was hotter in the front hall. Dad stopped us. “Stay here until I get the front door open,” he said, sounding strangely frightened.
    Smoky sweat dripped into my eyes and stung.
    Dad reached for the front doorknob. As he touched it, he let out a cry of pain, and at the same moment a tongue of flame darted from underneath the door and licked at his shoe.
    There was a weird, quiet WHOOOSH! as if all the air was sucked out of the room, and suddenly the door exploded in flames, slamming us backward with a blast of fierce heat.
    â€œDave!” screamed Mom, darting right into the fire.
    â€œGet back!” shouted Dad. “Head for the back door!”
    But we couldn’t move. He pushed Mom away and fell out of the fire, rolling on the floor. Flames were shooting up his arm. Mom whipped off her bathrobe and beat at the flames until they were out.
    â€œDave, are you all right?” cried Mom.
    â€œI’m fine,” he insisted. “Get going!”
    Although his voice sounded strangled from the pain in his arm, he pushed us along the hallway. Behind us hot, orange light flickered, lighting our way.
    Sally whimpered but none of us spoke. Dad’s raspy breathing sounded as loud as the angry snap of the flames, as if he’d run a mile.
    Nobody saw the wire the old witch had strung across the hall. I fell over it first, landing hard on my elbow with Sally tumbling on top of me. Mom caught her foot and twisted sideways to keep from toppling onto me and Sally. She landed with a piercing cry.
    Dad ripped the wire out of the wall as Sally and I scrambled to our feet. But Mom was taking a long time getting up.
    â€œMy ankle,” she whispered to Dad. “I think it’s broken.”
    â€œAll right,” he said. “Grab hold of my shoulder and I’ll lift you. Kids,” he said sharply to me and Sally, “keep moving. Wait for us outside by the cherry tree. Move! Now!”
    I grabbed Sally’s hand and ran for the back door. It seemed a long ways away without Mom and Dad beside us. But there was no fire in the kitchen and the smoke smell seemed fainter.
    I was afraid to touch the doorknob but I had to. Behind me I could hear Dad helping Mom along the hallway. I held my breath and reached for the doorknob. It was cool and turned easily.
    Outside the night air was sweet and fresh. Sally and I breathed deep and waited for Mom and Dad.
    â€œCome on, kids, get away from the house,” said Dad as he came out, half-carrying Mom. “It might go up at any second.”
    He started down the slope ahead of us toward the cherry tree, Mom hopping and hobbling beside him.
    â€œLet’s go, Sally,” I said, and reached for her hand.
    But my fingers closed on air.
    I spun around.
    No Sally! She was gone!
    Then I heard soft, vicious laughter from inside the house. “ You thought you’d escape me, ” whispered the evil old witch, sounding right beside my ear. “ But you won’t get away. None of you will get away! ”

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    I darted back into the house, shouting over my shoulder for Dad. The witch stood in the kitchen doorway, Sally clutched tight against her. Behind them was the flickering glow of the fire at the front of the house.
    â€œDaddy!” cried Sally. “Mommy!”
    â€œ You’re all going to die, ” crooned the witch, backing slowly down the hall. Smoke drifted around her, making Sally cough.
    In her white hospital gown, the evil old woman looked like a ghost. But the ghosts were gone, I thought, shaking so hard with fear I could barely move. There would be no Bobby to come to save us now.
    â€œ You thought you could steal my teddy bear, ” she hissed. Her wispy hair stood out from her head in patches and her fat white tongue roamed around her scrabby lips like a