The Hirt

Chapter Nineteen

19

Silence encased the car and the three girls inside of it.  Heather stared out the window with a blank expression.  What had she done?  She felt empty.  No, wait, that was a lie.  Guilt.  All she felt was guilt.

Belle sat in the back, studying her hands.  She had caused all those people to die, and she still didn’t even know what had happened!  Could Russia and her friend be telling the truth about all this mind-power crap?  Belle doubted it.  But how else had she spontaneously turned into the world’s most dangerous cigarette lighter?

Ivy’s stomach grumbled.  She hadn’t eaten all day, and all this eagle-killing had made her ravenous.  She kept her eyes on the road, but her thoughts wandered.  She thanked God that that P.E. teacher had exploded.  He was starting to give her the creeps.  Ivy glanced to her right and sighed.  Heather was being so whiney.  Now, she had decided to just shut down and not even talk, and the silence made Ivy uncomfortable. 

“So,” she blurted out cheerfully.  “At least we got most of them out in time.”

Heather nodded, but didn’t say anything.  She watched the town whizz by as they headed towards the Kidellian Headquarters.

Belle sighed.  “I should probably text my boyfriend and make sure he’s okay.”

Ivy sat up straighter.  “Oh, you have a boyfriend? What’s his name?”

“Yeah, ‘cuz this is such an appropriate time to gossip,” Heather muttered, shaking her head.  Belle ignored her, and smiled fondly.

“Yeah, he’s so sweet.  His name’s Felix.”

Ivy slammed on the brake in the middle of the road, causing the cars behind them to screech to a stop, honking their horns.  Heather jolted up, and they both whipped around in their seats simultaneously to stare at Belle.

“What?!” They both shrieked at the same time.

“What?”  Belle responded, a perplexed expression crossing her face, which was quickly replaced with a look of worry.  “Why? Do you know him?  Is he okay?”

Heather and Ivy slowly turned towards each other and exchanged glances.  “Didn’t see that one coming,” Heather muttered.  Just slightly, Ivy shook her head, but Heather knew immediately what she meant.  There was no way they could tell Belle who Felix really was. 

Heather and Ivy turned back around to face the front of the car, and Ivy gingerly eased on the gas. 

“Hey!  Hey!  Hey!” Belle repeated, poking Heather’s arm.  “What the hell was that?  Do you guys know Felix?  Is he okay?   Hey! Hey! Hey!”

Heather wondered why Felix had aligned himself with Belle.  That couldn’t have been a coincidence.  Something nagged at her, something more than Belle.  Had Felix told them something?  Given them some sort of hint?

Suddenly, something clicked.  Heather swiveled around in her chair.  “How long have you and Felix been dating?”

Belle cocked her head.  “Um . . . probably like six months or something.  Why?  Is that important?”

Heather shook her head and sighed.  Not the answer she was looking for, but she could tell she was getting closer.  “How long have you known each other?”

“I don’t know.  A few years, I guess,” Belle shrugged.  “Seriously, Heather.  What’s going on?”

Heather searched her brain and ignored her.  Ivy stole a glance at her.  “Yeah, what are you doing?”

Then it dawned on her, and even before Heather asked the question, she seemed to know the answer.  “You said you met him a few years ago.  Do you remember how old you were, specifically?”

“Yeah, we were probably thirteen.”

A surge of triumph sprang through Heather’s body, but was quickly followed by panic.  She looked towards Ivy.  “‘When the bell tolls thirteen, I shall strike.’  He wasn’t talking about a literal bell, Ivy, he was talking about Belle!”

Ivy glanced out the window.  “Well, she ‘tolled’ thirteen.  Where is he?”

Heather sat back in her chair.  “I don’t know,” she admitted.  Belle smacked Heather’s arm, and Heather yelped.

“What was that for?” Heather asked, rubbing the spot she’d been hit.

“Tell me what’s going on!  You can’t just tell me you guys are these super powerful, brain-power people, kidnap me, and then be all oh-we-know-your-boyfriend-but-we-aren’t-going-to-tell-you-anything!  It isn’t fair!”  Belle sulked.

Heather took a deep breath.  “Look, Belle.  We can’t really tell you—“

And that’s when the car went flying off the road.

The details were hazy.  Heather remembered the car flipping in the air, all three girls screaming. The car slammed into the ground, and Heather hit her head on the roof of the car.  An insane pain shot up her leg and she could taste blood.  She felt something strong and scaly grab her arm and she was suddenly yanked through the window, the glass shattering around her. Too fazed to defend herself, Heather was lifted into the air, and she thought she heard the flapping of wings.  Her cheek was stinging, and warm liquid snaked down her neck and soaked her shirt.  Groggily, she watched the wreckage beneath her get smaller and smaller, Belle and Ivy looking like little ants.

Grunting, she weakly tried to release her arms from her scaly captive, but she knew it was no use.

I wouldn’t do that if I were you, a familiar male voice whispered in Heather’s mind.  If I drop you from this height, you’ll be a pancake.

“Felix,” Heather managed to mutter before passing out completely.