The Hirt

Chapter Eleven

“Hello, mate,” A male voice whispered in Heather’s ear.

“Matt!” Heather screeched in relief, the cloth wrapped around her mouth quieting it to just under a deafening yell.  He shushed her, urgency dripping in his voice.

“You have to be silent. Not a peep, or she’ll wake up,” Matt breathed, his hands working fast to untie Heather’s hands and remove the restraint from her mouth.  When Heather was free, she nearly tackled Matt with her hug, tears of relief welling in her eyes.

“Come on,” Matt said, almost inaudibly as he grasped Heather’s wrist and yanked her.  “She’s got animals, cats I think, everywhere so we have to be absolutely quiet.” Matt tugged her forward, when she heard Anirbas moan and struggle to get up.  Matt didn’t speak a word as he started running, dragging Heather along.  She couldn’t see anything in the pitch black, and had no idea how Matt did.  They had only gone a few feet when Heather heard running footsteps behind them.  Matt started sprinting faster down the twisting hallway; the only sound was their heavy breathing and the quickly approaching footsteps of Anirbas.  Heather’s heart was pounding in her head, and it felt like her stomach was in her knees.  Suddenly, she couldn’t hear Anirbas. The chasing footsteps had stopped.

The warmth of Matt’s hands guiding her through the maze was gone, and Heather heard a loud groan.  Disoriented, Heather skidded to a stop.  Panting, she frantically looked around, desperate to catch a glimpse of Matt or to hear anything besides the sound of her own breathing, but there was nothing.  Anirbas could be anywhere.  And Heather knew that this time, she wouldn’t wait to kill her.  She wasn’t going to take any more chances this time.  Heather’s heart was beating so loudly, she was sure Anirbas would hear it.

Heather heard a noise behind her that sounded like a footstep.  She whipped around, stepping back cautiously.  Heather knew what Matt had said about being dead silent, but she was terrified.

“Matt?”  Heather whispered, her voice shaking.  A hand wrapped itself around her mouth and nose, and another arm roughly yanked Heather down by the neck.  Heather screamed, but it did no good.  The hand shoved a moist cloth against Heather’s mouth and nose, and she gagged.  Her thoughts instantly became clouded.

“Nope,” a male voice gruffly whispered.  Heather thought she recognized it, but she was dizzy and couldn’t think straight.  The last thing she heard was a maniacal laugh, and then she passed out.

Heather was assaulted by fluorescent light.  She blinked, spots swimming in her eyes.  She heard voices, her name jumping out at her a few times.  Heather was lying down on something soft.  As her eyes adjusted to the light, she remembered what had happened.  Heather jerked, sitting up abruptly and hitting her head on something.

“Whoa, whoa, little Missy.  You’re okay, you’re okay.  Lie back down,” a soothing, feminine voice said.  Hands touched her shoulders, lightly pushing her down.  Heather’s body tensed up, not trusting anyone she didn’t know.  Plus, the light was still blinding her; she couldn’t even see this woman.

“It’s okay, Heather.  You’re safe,” Heather heard a familiar, British voice say.

“Henry?” Heather’s voice came out hoarse and raspy.

“Yeah,” Henry said, walking towards Heather.  Her eyes finally adjusted to the room, and she looked around.  The entire room was white: white walls, white tiled floor, a few white cabinets and countertops.

“Am I dead?” Heather whispered worriedly.

The woman next to her chuckled.  “No, sweetheart.  You passed out from heat exhaustion. So did your little friend here.”  Heather’s eyes flicked to the woman.  She was plain: brown eyes, short brown hair, slightly tanned skin.  She was wearing a white nurse’s dress, and she almost blended in with the walls.  Heather looked to her side, and saw Matt lying on a white cot unconscious.  Heather gasped.  “It’s okay,” the woman hurriedly said.  ‘He’ll be awake in a minute.”