The Hirt

Chapter Seventeen

Without thinking, Heather yelled, “Run!”  Ivy jumped to the right, missing the flames by a fraction of an inch. Heather grabbed Belle and launched both of them to the left.  She flopped on her stomach, smacking her chin on the hard gymnasium floor.  Heather didn’t know how badly Belle was hurt; all she knew was that she heard a loud thump next to her, meaning Belle hadn’t gotten fried.

Heather’s entire jaw was throbbing, but that was the least of her problems.  She stumbled up, dragging a groaning Belle up with her.  Straight ahead, Heather noticed a door.  She hoped it led to the locker room.  Grabbing Belle by the waist, she staggered forward.  Belle limped along, gripping her rib cage and leaning on Heather for support.  An intense pain shot through Heather’s right knee whenever she stepped on that leg, but she just grimaced and continued on.

Reaching the door, she flung it open, and was relieved that her hunch was true.  It was the entry to the girls’ locker room.  What she wasn’t expecting to see was a huddle of terrified students and one overweight, cowering P.E. teacher.

She heard the click of the door behind her and let out a nervous giggle.  Gently setting Belle down, Heather said, “Um, this whole situation will be resolved shortly.  You can just, um, wait in here.”  She gave the group an awkward thumbs-up and tried to muster a smile, sending jolts of pain through her jaw.

“Russia,” Belle choked out.  She looked up at Heather with eyes dripping with fear.  “I’m scared.”

Guilt stabbed Heather.  She grasped Belle’s shoulder and smiled faintly.  “It’ll be fine.  I’ll get you guys out of here.”  There was a loud explosion outside the doors, and Heather winced.  She had to get out there and make sure Ivy wasn’t dead.  She took one last glance at the group, and made a mental promise that she would get these people out.  Heather turned around and raced out the doors into the craziness of the gym. 

Leaning against the doors, she remembered something.  Heather closed her eyes and connected to Jimba.  When she opened them, her vision was dressed in gold and she was looking into the face of a very old, very wise man.

Damien! Heather thought, and heard Jimba echo her.  We’ve got the Mordan.  Do we have permission to kill him?

Damien’s milky blue eyes bored into her as if he were really there.  “Are you sure it’s him?”

Heather paused.  Well, he turned into a giant falcon and is currently burning down the gym, so I think so!  Heather realized she was looking at the ground, and shifted her gaze upward so Jimba could see the damage.  She heard her gasp, and Jimba’s panicked thoughts invaded Heather’s mind. 

Jimba, shh.  She was trying to concentrate, and Jimba was not helping.

Oh, sorry. She heard her apologize.

Damien sighed.  “Make sure you get everyone out of there,” he said, his voice steady.  “But, I give you permission.

Thanks, Damien, Heather thought.  Damien nodded, and a sad smile played on his withered lips.

“Please come back alive,”She heard Jimba murmur, her voice thick with tears.

I promise.  That was the second promise Heather had made today that she wasn’t sure she could keep.

Heather disconnected, and blinked back to the harsh reality in front of her.  Damien’s voice ringing in her ears, she raced to the wall and yanked down the fire alarm.  The shrill siren blared, and, outside the gym doors, she could hear bustling students file out of classrooms to their designated areas outside.  Heather vaguely wondered why it hadn’t gone off before, but right now, she had a stubborn teenage girl and a fire-breathing falcon to deal with.