The Haunted Traveler May 2017 Edition

weaselpress

After a brief hiatus, The Haunted Traveler is back to bring you some of the best horror out there. Open up and tread with caution, the next scare is just a page flip away.

104

Kelly seized one of the water buckets we kept about

the floor in case of fire, and hurled it on the conflagration.

It did little to harness the phoenix. He glared at

me.

“Look what you’ve done!”

From the other side of the floor, beyond gargantuan

flames that were now beginning to channel across the

ceiling, there was screaming.

“You fool!” He growled. “We get out of this and I’ll

have your head! Now get another bucket!”

But it wasn’t me, it wasn’t! It couldn’t have been.

The smoke had been coming from the other side of the

room, not behind me, not from where I’d thrown the

cigarette. I was not going to lose everything I’d worked

for. I coughed. The back of my throat tightened. I

seized a water bucket nearest me, next to the door to

the Greene Street stairs, and doused him.

He shook himself off. “What are you doing?”

I heaved the galvanized bucket, and struck the big

man on the head. He fell, smacking into the edge of Table

3 on the way down. Shrieking. Cries of I can’t see.

There was going to be nothing of what I worked for

left to save. I looked at Kelly, face down on the plank

floor. I seized his meaty arms. Moving him would be

an impossible task. There was time to help some of

the women. Time to shout to guide them toward me,

but only if they were willing to plunge through the

fast-growing flames- fast-growing flames that were

about to block my exit route.

I fled down the stairs. I stood on Greene Street,

watching what looked like bales of clothing plummet

from the windows, and land with bone-jarring

More magazines by this user
Similar magazines