black veil ◦ scorch trials || thomas

22.

TWENTY-TWO ; A PROMISE

     It was total chaos. The only thing Evanna could hear were screams and cries and she wanted to put her hands over her ears. She wanted to turn around and run away as far as she could. She was almost tempted to listen to Thomas and leave.

     Almost.

     Evan shook her head and quickened her pace, running into the mayhem. The helicopter flew close to the ground, its search light on. Evan watched as soldiers dressed in black jumped out of the chopper and onto the ground, aiming their guns at whoever was in sight.

     WICKED's soldiers shot every single person in sight, electrocuting them to the point where they couldn't move anymore. She saw them twitching on the ground, trembling. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to calm her breathing.

     She could do this. She had gone against WICKED before and she could do it again. She would do it again.

     Evanna inhaled sharply and pushed herself up from the ground. Panicked people collided with her but she tried shrugging them off as gently as she could in that moment. Her eyes were dead set on an abandoned rifle on the ground when her attention was grabbed by a burning tent just outside of the camp.

     Eyes widening, Evan quickly forgot about the rifle and WICKED and sprinted to the medic tent where she last saw Brenda and Jorge. Her own panic began to set in now. She had just found out about Jorge, about who he used to be. She couldn't lose him now. And after Winston, she couldn't lose Brenda, too.

    "Evan!" a voice shouted. She ignored it. "Evan, over here! Evanna!"

     Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Newt waving frantically at her. He stood with Frypan and Minho while surrounding a truck, shooting at WICKED's men. Vince stood on the truck behind a machine gun. Harriet aided him.

     Evan didn't go to them. She reached the medic tent in no time and gasped as the top caved in. She skidded to a halt and watched as the flames slowly burned away the fabric. Just as she stepped forward and lifted her hands to make way, arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her back.

     "Are you crazy?!"

     Jorge

     Evan let out a relieved breath and spun around, throwing her arms around the older man. He stumbled back in a stupor before quickly regaining himself. Jorge took a small step back and assessed her, looking for any wounds. When he found none he pulled her close and behind a barrier.

     "Brenda?" she asked shortly. Jorge only pushed her down.

     "Right here," the brunette answered as she clicked the safe off from a rifle. Evanna felt a weight lift from her shoulders.

     Evan sat up just enough to peer over the barrier. She watched as people of the Right Arm were tasered, shot, beaten. She winced every time but couldn't look away. Almost as if she had to see WICKED for what it really was. To convince herself that wishing to be back there and having a comfortable bed is not worth it.

     Her stomach coiled as a little girl's scream reached her ears. She looked away then. It was a reflex, something she couldn't control. Her jaw was clenched, eyes squeezed shut. Evan breathed out unevenly, disbelievingly.

     How had she ever worked for people like this? How had she stayed so ignorant for so long?

     "We have to help them," the words fell from her lips before she realized. Evanna shared Brenda and Jorge's surprise but she didn't take back her words. "We – We have to do something."