Previous chapters of the River Road story:
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

How should the story continue? Voting is open on the current chapter!

Last time, after disagreeing with her mother, Evelyn, Margaret Pipkin found herself in a terrible argument. Furious, Evelyn grabbed Margaret’s arm—startling the young woman and causing her to scream. Meanwhile, The DeLorcas found their was no exit from the locked basement room. Similarly Mia Duomo found herself in a locked supply closet lit only by candles. Mia feverishly banged on the walls and screamed for help. The vibrations of her banging on the walls caused one of the shelves above her to fall over—sending cans of paint toppling down. One can hit Mia in the head while the other debris upset the lit candles. Suddenly the closet was filled with smoke and flames. The DeLorcas smelled the smoke and—trapped—wondered what to do. What happened next? Here’s what you decided.

Chapter 16: Fire, Fire Everywhere
by Joseph Crisalli

Mia continued to pound on the wall and as she did, she bumped into a shelf above her head, sending boxes and cans of paint clattering down around her.

One can of paint hit Mia on the head, knocking her to the floor, unconscious!

But, worst of all, the boxes that fell had knocked over two of the candles that lit the room!

The candles rolled into the stacks of crates, paper and rags—igniting them instantly. Suddenly, the little closet was filling with smoke and angry flames began to lick the walls.

Back in the locked room, Eben sniffed the air. “I smell smoke.”

“So do I!” Mrs. DeLorca said.

“It’s coming from under that door.” Mr. DeLorca shouted to a line of smoke which squeezed from under the sill.

“There are two hundred people in the museum right now—upstairs at that wedding reception!” Mrs. DeLorca screamed. “We have to do something!”

“I have my cell phone.” Eben said, reaching into his pocket. He dialed and stared at the phone. “No signal!”

“I say, I can’t get a signal either!” Mr. DeLorca shouted.

“The smoke is getting worse.” Mrs. DeLorca coughed. “Quickly, cover your mouths!”

Mr. DeLorca tied a handkerchief around his mouth and nose, Mrs. DeLorca used a scarf and Eben covered his face with the crook of his arm.

“The museum’s smoke detector’s have all recently been replaced. They should go off any minute!” Mrs. DeLorca said through the scarf.

“But, that doesn’t mean that they’ll find us down here.” Eben said.

“It’s gotten hot—hotter than a day on the Londonderry Pier where they sell that delicious frozen fish slurry. I’m just glad Shakuntala isn’t here.” Mr. DeLorca sighed.

“This is no time to think about your pelican, Father.” Eben muttered.

“Every minute of every day is a time to think about my pelican, dear boy.” Mr. DeLorca said gently.

“We have to do something!” Eben answered, starting to panic. “I feel as though this might be the end!”

“No.” Mrs. DeLorca said. “We will do something. It’s going to take more than this to beat the DeLorca Family!” She raced to the door through which they had entered the room. “Help!” She began screaming.

“Aren’t you going to scream, too?” Eben asked his father.

“Yes, lad.” Mr. DeLorca shook his head. “But, first, I’m going to pray. Pray for all of us, and for those people and animals that we look after.”

At that very moment, Mia Duomo was regaining consciousness. She rubbed her head and tried to stand up. Suddenly, she realized that the room was filled with flames! She began to cough from the smoke.

Mia shut her eyes. “Is this what will happen to me? After all that I’ve gone through in my life, all that I’ve endured, is this what will become of me?” And, then, Mia did something she had never done before—never in her life. She, too, prayed. She prayed to God to protect her friends, and to protect herself. She prayed for peace and for forgiveness. And, when she had finished, Mia Duomo turned and opened her eyes—staring at the flames which grew hungrily around her, she smiled.

With the fire glinting in her eyes, Mia Duomo said. “There has to be something I can do about this!”

Meanwhile, upstairs in the museum’s reception hall, others had begun to smell the smoke. Within seconds, the fire alarm sounded—sending a wave of panic in the hall.

Nancy rushed to Mrs. Conn and took her hand.

“The museum is on fire!” Sarah shouted.

“Hurry children,” Mrs. Conn said, “but, don’t run. Just walk quickly and orderly to the fire exit there. I’m right behind you! Don’t look behind you—just go!”

Sadly, others at the party were not as orderly as Mrs. Conn had instructed the children to be. Many rushed and pushed toward the fire exits. The room was a sea of hysterical shouting and running. Mrs. Conn was quickly knocked to the floor. No one stopped to help her up.

“My ankle,” Mrs. Conn screamed. However, her cries were not heard over the horrible havoc in the room.

Once they were outside the museum, Nancy, Sarah, Isaac and Kathy all held onto one another. Seconds passed, and then minutes as everyone ran out of the museum.

Shouting over the blaring alarm, Sarah screamed. “Why isn’t Mrs. Conn out yet?”

“I don’t know!” Nancy began to cry.

“I’m going back in there!” Sarah said.

“Sarah!” Nancy grabbed Sarah’s hand.

What should Sarah do?

Run back inside and look for Mrs. Conn?
Tell an adult that Mrs. Conn is missing?
Make all of her friends go in with her?