Jealousy // Gally x reader

Chapter Thirty-Six - Sacrifice

Everything dies down. The screaming: stopped. The grievers: gone. Half my friends: dead.

The night air was still crisp with the haze of moonlight, casting a dim cloak over the catastrophic events that just occurred. A final warm tear glides down my cheek and splats pathetically onto the cool metal floor.

The silence prompts Gally to swing open the roof, and the other two boys to hop out, Gally soon following and eventually pulling me up after them. My gaze stays on the ground, and I tug at the wrist-length sleeves of my shirt with my trembling hands, just wanting to disappear.

I long to remove the elastic band from my hair, letting it fall over my face and envelope me in its mask. At least then I would have something to distract myself, flicking that stupid band against my wrist until it becomes red- something that seems to have become a habit of mine.

I follow Gally across the Glade like a sheep being herded by its shepherd. A new sense of anger has plastered itself into his vision, a deep garnet compared to his usual crimson. He strides confidently, as though he has a specific mission in mind, and I trail along, glancing from side to side in search for the familiar faces of survivors.

Unfortunately, I'm met with more blank, lifeless stares than ones of the living, and eventually have to close my eyes to remove the images of their stiff bodies from my mind. He gets further and further away, walking quicker with each forceful step, and I struggle to keep up.

"Gally!" I shout, my voice hoarse as I scramble to stay beside him. From the look on his face, I knew that he was going to do something completely idiotic. Or at the very least stupid. Very, very stupid.

He's barely in ear shot, but I can still hear him mumbling something fiercely under his breath, reciting it as though it was the only thing he believed to be true. "It's his fault." Over and over, his jaw clenched in rage.

I notice a small clan emerge from the council building, and I find it much easier to pick up my pace. Thomas and a few others appear, creaking their heads around the door before exiting, but someone's missing. I had counted 8 last night before I ran away; Thomas, Chuck, Enzo, Frypan, Minho, Newt, Teresa and Alby.

Alby. He's not there. And from the expressions painted across their usually bubbling smiles, he won't be back.

The building behind them was partially eroded, a large tear through the roof that resulted in parts of the other structure to collapse. Splintered spears of wood lay scattered across the surrounding areas of the Glade.

"This is all you, Thomas, Huh? Look around." He shouts, planting a furious right hook right into the boy's jaw, in almost the exact spot that was still healing from the last tiff, that sends him tumbling to the floor. "This is all your fault! Look what you've done!" He yells, preparing himself for another blow. "Gally, what the fuck!" I shout, my hand moving up to cover my mouth as Chuck scurries over to me and wraps himself around my body.

The others move towards Gally, grabbing his arms to hold him back as Thomas gets back on his feet. "Back off, Gally. It's not Thomas' fault." Minho retorts, shoving Gally backwards and away from the boy floundering on the floor.

"'Back off'? Minho, take a look around." He hollers, resisting against the three boys having to hold him back from his temper tantrum. The Glade is completely in ruins; buildings collapsed, fire still feasting against newly grown crops, our friends lying dead on the floor.

"You heard what Alby said, he's one of them!" He argues, pushing him back. "Why did none of you listen to me? This," he sweeps his hand through the air. "This is what ignorance does."

Thomas, who had barely made it back to his feet, had buckled again and returned to stroking his jaw on his knees. I faltered to his side as he clicks it, groaning slightly.