Admit Defeat (TMR fic 2)

Chapter 40

"You're finally back!" The Gladers crowd around us, relief shining in their eyes despite the fact that we clearly didn't find our new leader.

"Did you see any sign of Thomas?" Frypan asks, but his interest is the exception, not the rule, and his voice is drowned out by the others.

"We had to chase a Crank away!" Clint says eagerly, and the other Gladers seem equally focused on their own adventure while we were gone. They all chime in, talking about how they had managed to stay safe, even when discovered by a burly Crank with anger issues.

With all the conversation, we don't have to talk about what happened in the tunnels. At least, not yet. I slip away from the conversation, not wanting to relive those scenes in my mind when the Gladers finally do stop to ask us how it went.

I sit in the corner of the building, near some piled up scraps of clothing and rocks and garbage. Newt glances at me but doesn't follow. He probably thinks I need some space. I don't know what I need.

I chuck a small rock across the room blankly. Am I really going to abandon my friends to die burning down a city?

Yes. Of course I am. I reach for an ancient, empty can of beans to throw it after the rock. Something rattles inside, and I don't pay it much attention.

At least, not until my hand is filled with a burning pain. I yelp and fling the can away. It rolls on the floor, something scurrying out of it and into a pile of rocks.

"What was that?" I ask, tears reflexively streaming down my face. "It hurts."

Jorge frowns. "A scorpion. It must have stung you. Let me take a look at it."

I scramble one-handed to my feet, not wanting to be down on the floor where there might be more. Jorge examines my hand, which has started to tingle badly, and nods.

"It shouldn't be too dangerous. I've seen a few people get stung. You probably won't get worse than some twitching muscles."

"F-fun," I say through the remnants of pain.

Minho looks me up and down. "She's not coming."

"WHAT?" I yelp. "Wait, where am I not going? What's happening?"

"We were talking about going around the city and seeing if Thomas came up somewhere," Newt explains. "But you aren't coming, like Minho said, and neither am I. It's my job to stay with you and make sure you don't burn yourself up with all that gas."

I smile dreamily at the thought of fire, but then I realize what he said. "Wait, I really can't come? I'll be fine! It's just a little scorpion bite."

"Sting," Jorge and Clint correct at the same moment.

"It's not that you're weak," Newt explains. "You really aren't. But if you're going to be twitching and convulsing and stuff you probably shouldn't be running around a city full of deadly Cranks. I'll hide with you, it will be safer that way."

I glance around the room. "I don't want to hide in the scorpion lair."

"That's fine," Jorge says. "There's a shaded rooftop nearby that will be good enough for two of you to lie low while the rest of us look for your leader."

Newt is staring at me, pleading silently. I sigh.

"Fine."