black veil ◦ scorch trials || thomas

06.

SIX ; WRAPPED UP

     Dust had gathered atop every surface in sight. Strange, rope-like wires wrapped around pillars and climbed higher until they could no longer be seen. Plastic covers were draped over almost everything, footsteps printed into the dust washed away by the strong winds from outside the building. Electricity wires stretched out on the ground beneath their feet, going on seemingly endlessly. Light was scarce. In fact, the only light was from Minho's flashlight, now in the hands of Winston as he cautiously followed the remaining footprints on the ground. A howling wind was the only companion they could find in the abandoned building.

     Evan felt a kind of dread settle in the pit of her stomach. It wasn't like any other times she had felt dread, but she could still identify it as that. There was a strange tinge to it, as though it wasn't entirely well-placed. She supposed it was just the adrenaline, but still, it felt different. She called it a sense of foreboding and shook it off, done with it. There were more important matters than just a feeling. And after all, Evanna wasn't sure she could trust any feelings anymore.

     Quietly and in silent pain, the girl hobbled behind the group of boys, listening as they asked numerous questions about what might have happened in the building, what it used to be like. Their curiosity reminded her much of her own back when she was with WICKED – was she still with WICKED? Would she still be considered a part of them, even though she had gone behind their back and, in a way, betrayed them?

     Evan felt like she knew the answer. She felt like everyone in the group of boys knew the answer, what WICKED would do with her when they found them. It seemed highly unlikely they would welcome Evanna back as their own. Perhaps they would throw her out, back into the Scorch. Maybe lock her up, put her through what all those kids sent to the 'farm' had to go through.

     She shuddered, quickly pushing that thought away. From all the possibilities, that was the one which scared her the most. From the wide range stretching from being welcomed back with skepticism and to ultimate death, ending up strung-up from a ceiling was the worst. It meant you weren't of use enough to be left to live, but also that you weren't worth the nuisance of killing.

     It meant you were nothing, nothing at all. Nothingness, as strange as it sounded, was something the girl feared. Something which haunted her in her nightmares. Because being nothing was a slippery slope to being forgotten, and that was truly what Evan was afraid of.

     If WICKED welcomed her back that way, forced her into a coma-like state and hang her up like drying meat, than Evan would rather die. She'd rather go down doing something grand, something she had control over, than end up being nothing but a crop. She refused. If WICKED were to do that, she would waste no time in finding the next best sharp object and end it all, knowing she at least helped some people along the way.

     A rattling sound snapped the blonde out of her daze. Evan was quick to realize she had fallen behind, staring at a never-ending hallways of darkness. A shiver rolled down her spine and she swiftly spun around, walking towards the group. She ignored the stings of pain in her side, the throbbing in her wrist. Until she had found a first aid kit, she would keep quiet. Until she had found something to lessen the pain, she would hold in the groans and whimpers. Complaining and whining wouldn't do it any good, there was no use.

     Finally caught up, Evanna watched as Minho and Thomas lifted up old rolling shutters. She tightly held onto her wrist and stepped a little closer, eyeing the darkness inside with scrutinizing eyes. The two aforementioned boys were the first to venture inside. When given the clear, the rest followed, wide eyes looking around. Evan was the last to go in, hesitantly placing her hand on the wall to support herself, the ache in her side intensifying. She almost cried out in joy when her gaze fell on a red box with a white cross on it.