Leo 29

It's still dark in the room when I wake up. So much so, that I can't tell if I've even slept more than an hour. Perhaps I've slept for three days. At this point, it seems impossible to tell.

I peel myself off the ground. A few floors down, I hear a scratching. I back away, my spine ramming into a railing behind me. My eyes try to adjust to the darkness, searching for either Sheil or Lott. I don't see them, but then again, I can barely see my own hands. At least I manage to find my backpack, throwing it over my shoulders.

I make my way to the stairs, holding on to the banister for guidance. I step down, the soles of my shoes scratching against the concrete. Stepping into the room, I don't dare brandish my flashlight.

For half a second, I close my eyes. Breathing in, one giant breath, and then releasing it. My lips press into an O, and I blow out through them. A whistle echoes out into the room.

Jeff taught me how to do that, once upon a time. When he first showed me how to disinfect and wrap serious wounds, he was whistling. If, at any point, he wasn't shouting to Clint across the Homestead, or laughing, he would whistle. Sweet tunes, complex melodies, songs that neither of us had ever heard. Songs that he'll never hear now.

The room is much too dark to see Jeff's shadow as it lays over the land. Maybe the darkness is his shadow. I straighten my back, closing my eyes again, and whistle. I hear no rustling, no scamper of feet, no bodies dragging across the ground. The space is empty.

A trick Lott taught me, from a habit of Jeff's. I wonder if they would get along.

I wonder if Lott and Sheil left me. It wouldn't quite make sense since they'd have no reason to, but they could've. In fact, I wouldn't put it past them.

I inch along the wall, moving closer to where I think the door is. Something squeaks beneath me, and I jump back. Tiny feet scamper along the ground. I find my flashlight and illuminate. One single rat, whose ribs practically poke out of its chest. It dives out of the light, moving deeper into the room.

There isn't even enough in the Scorch to keep a rat alive.

In a few paces, I find the doorknob. Its cold metal weighs heavily in my hand. If Lott and Sheil are still in the building, will they think I have left them? With the twitch of my fingers, I manage to open the door, stepping outside.

There is a girl lying on the ground. She stares up at the sky, her hair almost blending into the sand with its dark brown. It is morning, and the sun is just beginning to creep into the sky.

I move over to her cautiously. Is she a Crank? She doesn't look like one, but nobody out here is safe from the disease. Obviously, she is a Crank. How gone is she? Am I going to have to fight her?

She squints in the sunlight. Her lip is busted, and she manages to peel herself off the ground. Startled by the sight of me, she moves backwards. Her fists dig into the sand, which she throws at me in limps fists. The sight is sadder than it is hurtful. She's trying to escape me.

Neither of us says anything. We continue to stare at each other, studying. I watch her throat move up and down with her rapid breath. Her eyes twitch back and forth, landing all over me. I feel like nobody has ever seen me this intensely. She isn't past the gone. She has some awareness to her, at least. Enough to recognize me just a few feet in front of her.

"Stuck," she mutters, peeling herself off the ground and running.

That's Group B slang.

I chase after her, ignoring the feeling that itches at the back of my neck when I realize I'm leaving Sheil and Lott behind.

"I'm not going to hurt you!" I call out when I realize that I'm not gaining any ground. My lungs are burning, and she is much faster than I am, and the sand is slipping beneath my feet.

She turns down an alleyway, and then another. I charge around the corner to see a dead end. She turns, facing me in the middle, hands running through her hair. She pulls at her wrist with her other hand, almost pinching herself but barely coming in contact with her skin.

"Who are you?" I've never seen her before. Was she taken by a Griever, and somehow ended up in the Scorch? There is no hope that Jeff is alive, I remind myself. Even if I want him to be, he is dead. I saw him dismembered. Maybe Dave is alive though.

She laughs slightly, spitting through her teeth. "Right. You ran away. Nice on that."

What?

"Beth," she offers, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. For a second, I think she might jump me to push out through the doorway. "You know. I'm your Gally, or whatever."

I know that.

"What are you doing out here?" I ask, scanning her skin. Where her skin isn't cracking it is bruised. There is nothing in my kit that can treat her except water, and I'm running low. "Aren't you supposed to be with WICKED?"

"They let us go," she mutters, looking around. "Keep sending us out to mess with you. Gally's caught the Flare because of it. Once they're done messing with Michelle, we'll get dumped into Denver. We're twin-pairs after all, so it's only a matter of time before..."

She closes her eyes, teetering back and forth on her feet. She opens them, and she kicks the brick wall beside her with the bottom of her foot. It sends her tumbling backwards, but she catches herself on her feet.

I don't doubt she has caught the Flare. Instinctively, I take a step back from her. She bites her lip, nodding as she looks me up and down.

"What do you know?" She asks me. "What are they calling you now anyway? Leo? Not your real name?"

"Beth isn't yours," I offer, my voice too quiet for even my own comfort.

"Well, it's more real than Leo," she tells me, cracking her neck. "They didn't call you Leo before, not that it matters. Not that you care. It's all about that Emily and Eli. Those are the important ones. You rest are not."

She remembers them from before. Even Gally didn't know that. Did we know each other?

"Beth," I take a step closer to her, reaching for her arm.

"No," she manages, pulling me back. She shoves me against a wall, my back going stiff. She grins at me, bringing her mouth closer and closer to me. A crooked grin. Her teeth are straight and white, but they seem too sharp to be human. "Don't talk to me. You don't know me."

I can't move to fight her. My eyes fly shut when she grabs me, squeezing me harder. "Please, stop."

"I'm fine," she let's go of me, stepping back. "I don't have the Flare. I'm not going crazy."

She does. She reeks of it. I can feel it sinking into my skin. My stomach hardening. My eyes trying to pry themselves open.

"I am not crazy," she whispers. I look forward to watching her fall to the ground. She puts her head in her hands, crying. Her sobs shake the ground.

I lean down, ignoring all the panic inside me. My hand reaches her back, and she melts into my side. Her head leaning firmly against my shoulder. I attempt to hold her as she cries, even though she is going to wake up half the block.

The sun is only getting brighter. I've got no idea how long I've been gone, or if the boys have left without me. Maybe they had already left.

Beth wraps her arms around me. My torso flinches as her grip tightens. I let a hand fall on the back of her head. My grip on her is soft, though she squeezes the life out of me. "You're okay."

I don't know that she is, but there isn't anything else to say.

I hear footsteps around the corner and look up to see Lott. He reaches behind him, grabbing Sheil and tugging him forward. Sheil's goofy grin fades to a frown while he moves towards us. He tentatively places a hand on Beth's shoulder, and she turns around. Her face becomes straight, as she wipes off the tears and snot that collects on her skin.

"You're with her?" Beth looks back and forth between the two of us.

Lott coughs, and she ducks her head past Sheil to look at him. The bags under Lott's eyes have only grown since last night.

"We thought you would've died," Sheil admits, glancing around. "What are you doing out here?"

"WICKED," Beth admits, sighing.

Sheil nods, glancing back at Lott. The pair seem pretty tentative, but eventually, Lott rolls his eyes and nods.

"Come with us," Sheil offers, as he sighs. He tries to offer Beth a faint smile, although it barely reaches his lips, let alone his eyes.

Beth jumps up off the ground, shoving both of us off of her. She wipes her face again, turning in a circle. "This is a trick."

"It isn't," Lott's voice is still and steady. "We never liked Rachel."

Rachel was their Thomas, and Beth their Gally. I guess there wasn't a Chuck.

"Lott," Sheil warns.

"It's true," Lott shrugs. He picks at the dry skin on his hands, averting his eyes. When his fingers begin to shake, he takes another swig from the bottle at his side.

Beth's chest raises and lowers with every breath. She has her arms crossed over her chest.

"You can trust them," I tell her.

"Wow, thanks," she sniffs again, turning around so she is facing a wall. "I've known them for a month, you know."

I quiet down at this. Obviously, there is a tension here I don't quite understand, but I can pick apart pieces. I can tell that there are no bad guys here, only those who have been used. Over and over, like discarded waste. That's why they've sent us here, isn't it? Not a single one of our lives matters to them. I wish they could see what it's like down here.

Sheil turns to whisper to Lott, while Beth stands in the corner. I don't want her to brood too long. It seems she's been isolated from the rest of us for long enough.

"You mentioned Michelle," I step closer. "You've seen her?"

Beth turns back to me, nodding. "Gally wouldn't shut up about her. Said he was going to kill her the next time he saw her. It's the Flare talking."

"The Flare?" Sheil demands, his interest returning to our conversation "It's taking affects already."

"What do you mean?" I ask, turning between the pair of them. "Taking effects?"

"We all have it," he answers. "We've all been exposed. It's just a matter of time before the symptoms set in."

I know that. I just hadn't thought they would be coming to us this soon. Maybe Gally just has a very fragile immune system. I've never seen him sick, but I don't really see many sick. Perhaps, it's just Gally being Gally though. He did once throw bleach on me.

"Michelle," I continue, drawing the attention back to her.

"I haven't seen her in days." Beth shrugs. Although, that means she has seen her. "Not since Gally and I ran into the group. I left, but he stayed. I don't know where they are now."

"She could be up top," Lott offers, looking up. He steps off the wall, entering the rest of the group. He doesn't offer any more information until we are all staring at him. "I saw Rose this morning, running around. It's why Sheil and I left you."

"We ran back when we heard Beth shouting," Sheil admits, looking at his feet.

"What do you mean, Rose?" Beth asks, stepping forward.

"They're up top?" I demand.

Lott shrugs, ignoring us once more.

Sheil runs a hand through his coarse black hair. "Last we saw."

"Have you seen Saph?" There is a desperation in Beth's voice that is all too familiar. Her eyes flicker between the two of them, waiting for an answer. When they offer one, she glances at me.

"Days ago," I offer.

"We will find them," Lott offers. His words cause me to step back. The juxtaposition between his tone and the sentiments behind his words astound me. When Lott catches my eye, he fumbles with the metal canteen and takes a swig from it.

"If we want any chance at that, we had better get going," Sheil suggests. "Besides, we'll burn if we are out here any longer. We need to take cover in the shade of the alley.

I look back at Beth. Her nod is faint, and I expect that she won't follow us as we turn away. Instead, she races up to the front, moving with Lott out of the alleyway.

~~~

This is exciting! We are just over halfway to the last book! I'll see you soon.