Ticking Time Bomb [THE SCORCH TRIALS]

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER TWELVE
❞It doesn't matter if I close my eyes or open them, either way I see darkness.❞

INGRID CLEARWATER walked among a valley of multiplying sand dunes and under a scorching sun that made her skin feel dry, and her lips to feel cracked and irregular. In fact, her whole body felt completely out of place as she trudged along down towards nowhere — as per usual. It was another day as to where Ingrid would nearly starve, or die of thirst because she couldn't find something to quench it. Perhaps if her mother were present, her situation would be the polar opposite. But, all remains of the woman who gave her life were long gone, far out of Ingrid's grasp. She had no notion on where to even begin looking for someone who was lost, someone who is dead. Was there even a point in searching for just a body, without a heartbeat and without the melancholy voice she held that sung Ingrid to sleep?

Was Emberly Clearwater still Emberly Clearwater if her eyes were permanently shut tight for eternity? Ingrid couldn't comprehend the latter of it, for it had happened so briefly that it still hadn't fully processed in her young mind. The young mind that hardly bared any sliver of innocence; she had seen it all. Gore, murder, cannibalism. And, now that she was all alone, she was going to have to face it like every other lonely person did — fight. Fight through it like a plague of vexation, but the mere problem was that she didn't have a choice between losing and winning.  If she lost, she would lose everything she was. And, Ingrid already lost enough pieces of herself to risk ridding herself of any more.

So, the brunette girl continued on her journey without a word exiting her mouth, or even a slight hum to continually pass the time. Although she had no idea as to what time it was, she could see the sun beginning to creep upon its way behind the earth and let the moon grace its presence. With that in mind, the aforementioned Clearwater girl wandered under a small cave, beginning to prepare a fire. Once she had lit the flames and prepared the logs, she began to pull out her food for the night. She would always savor each bite as if it was her last, because she never knew if it could very well be her last meal.

          Ingrid ate in silence, the only sounds echoing through the night being her constant chewing and the thoughts that ran rampant in her mind. Sometimes, an owl would chirp, making Ingrid feel less alone than usual. But, the sound that really awoke her senses was the quick sound of a twig cracking. The aforementioned girl immediately stood up, baring her bow and arrow in her sweaty Palm. She deserted the fire, collecting her knapsack hurriedly as she made her way out of the warm cave.

          Another crack pierced through her eardrums, and she jumped in fright, her body turning around frantically to try and catch sight of the person responsible for stepping on the twig. It could be an animal, but if there was one thing that her mother taught her, was that she should never let her guard down in frightening situations. Ingrid's grip on her bow tightened as she slowly exited the cave completely, now back into the arms of the cold night that embraced her. She turned around for a split second to begin a light jog away from the cave, but she could only get so far before the footsteps became a constant paradigm. Her heartbeat thumped against the cages of her ribs, resonating from her feet to the top of her head. Her hands began to shake, and it was then that the girl started a quick-paced jog underneath the starry night. Her sack of arrows jostled every second, but the brunette girl could hardly pay attention to that when she was so frightened of the mysterious person.

And it was then, and only when, the aforementioned girl heard silence that she was hit with a wave of uneasiness, settling even in the deepest nooks of her being. In the dark, she could make out a small human figure nearing her, and Ingrid involuntarily let out a scream, masking the innocent night air with fear. The shadow made its way towards her, and she aimed her bow and arrow without thinking twice. Her hope wasn't to kill; it was to merely faze the person so she could run. Her mother had always told her that killing wouldn't solve anything, only bring a mind full of guilt and lost hope.