The Hirt

Chapter Four

4

She couldn’t stay in the school that day.  There was too much running through her drained brain.  Heather didn’t even bother stopping by the nurse’s office.  She slowly made her way towards the front door of the school.  Finally, Heather had made her way to the exit, and flopped her hand on the door handle.  She yawned; she could barely force one foot go in front of the other.  She made it outside, the December-Boston air biting at her bare arms.  She managed one more step outside before exhaustion overtook her body.  She slumped onto the ground, fighting to keep her eyes open and her mind alert.  Through half-opened eyes, she saw a shadowy figure running up to her.  The person knelt down beside her.

“Oh, no.  This is not good.  Not good.  I knew this would happen!” a British voice said.  Henry supported Heather behind her neck, just as she completely blacked out.  Henry picked up her limp body and carried her out of sight of Helms High School.

Heather’s eyes slowly fluttered open.  Everything was blurry at first.  She blinked a few times, trying to clear her vision.  A bright fluorescent light shone down on her face, half blinding her.  She raised her hand to her eyes, partly to block out the light and partly to rub the sleep out of her eyes, and groaned.  Heather squinted, and could discern the outlines of two blurry people standing over her, staring down.  Startled, she gasped and jerked, but a protective hand gently held her down.

“Calm down, Heather.  You’re alright.  You’re safe,” A soothing, accented voice quickly said.

“Jesus Christ, Henry!  You scared me half to death!” Heather exclaimed, quickly sitting up.

“Yeah, I guess I kinda do that a lot, don’t I?” Henry responded guiltily.

“Where am I?  How long was I asleep?  And who are you . . . wait a second, I know you!” Heather rapidly questioned, now fully awake and feeling as if caffeine had just been pumped through her veins.  “You’re that guy from my vision!  Er, connection . . . or whatever that was!” 

The second person looming over Heather was, in fact, the incredibly aged man.  Heather could see him more clearly now than ever before.  His wispy thin white beard deeply contrasted with his bald head.  The crinkles by his striking blue eyes made him look eternally happy.  His weathered hand still gripped the same wooden cane, and she could tell he was putting most of his weight on it.  He seemed to be everything at once: weak yet strong, old yet young, happy yet sad, superior yet equal.  Heather had never seen, nor met, anyone as strange and awe-inspiring as this man.  She had the immediate feeling that she wanted to please him, no matter what.

“You’re absolutely right, Ms. Heather.  I am ‘that guy from your vision,’” the man chuckled. “But, let me introduce myself formally.  I am Damien Kidell, creator of the Kidellians and current leader and coach of all Kidellians.  Pleasure to meet you.” He stuck his shaky, withered hand out for Heather to shake.

“Cool.” Heather responded intelligently, and shook his hand.  Damien’s skin felt like sand paper, and it was so fragile that Heather felt as if she could snap it in half easily.  “So, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but where exactly am I?”

Damien smiled.  “You’re in the Kidellian Headquarters, KH for short.  But really, it’s an abandoned old warehouse.”  Heather stood up and truly inspected the place for the first time since she had arrived.  She had seen this place before.  It was the same warehouse as in her connection thing.  The target, pool, and miscellaneous weapons were still there.  She also noticed a table in the corner.  There were random objects strewn carelessly around the warehouse, such as bows and arrows, clocks, shoes, and random pieces of paper.  On all the walls, there were thousands of photos, some looking a hundred years old and some looking a few days old.  From what Heather could tell, all the photos were candid shots of people.  She also noticed a race track circling the outermost edges of the room.