Burning; TST ➵ Thomas

N I N E

The Underneath was a gloomy, miserable place. The walls and floors were dull grey. Nothing more than painted concrete. Streaks of water trickling down the sides of the walls.

The duo passed a door every ten metres or so, most were locked when Thomas tried to open them. They followed Brenda's map of the area - well, Amelia was. Thomas just trailed behind her like a lost puppy.

They didn't talk much. The tunnels were silent. Other than the thumping of their footsteps, distant drops of water and the swishing of their clothes as they walked. Amelia suddenly stopped and whirled on him, shining the light on her face from below. "Boo."

Thomas jumped. When she started giggling, he pushed her away. He felt like an idiot - his heart had just about exploded from the fright. "Cut that crap."

"Sorry that you're a scaredy-cat," she snorted. She turned on her heel and shined the light back to the tunnels.

"I'm not a scaredy-cat," Thomas defended himself, scoffing. He wasn't able to see her reaction, but he knew she was smirking. He continued to follow her tunnel after tunnel, turn after turn. The slow and steady exercise reminded him of the Maze.

His mind drifted to a half-daze. He thought about the Maze, his splotchy memories and the girls. He wondered how Teresa was holding up. He remembered her warning, causing his heart to drop.

Amelia paused. She held up a palm to Thomas's chest, stopping him from walking any further.

"What?" he whispered. She turned back to him, eyes full of worry.

"Someone's following us." Thomas's breaths quickened. She shone the light back the way they'd come from. Nothing was there. "We should deal with it now. Can't let anyone else have the cure," she whispered.

She'll agree. It sounded selfish. But this was WICKED who was giving them the cure. They'll more likely shoot the Cranks dead and only give the group who claimed they were 'special'. If Thomas did keep his promise and give her, Jorge and Brenda the cure, the miracle would more likely be that they weren't shot dead by WICKED. If more uninvited Cranks come along, who knows what would happen. Technically, she knew - They'll all be dead. Either way, that's how a Crank's life usually would end up.

"It could be a trap." Thomas tried to reason. He understood where she was coming from but the only they had was her bow and arrows. It's a surprise that majority of the arrows in her quiver didn't fall out while they ran. The two don't know how many Cranks were following them.

"If it was, they could bait us. But it wouldn't make any sense if they had enough people for an ambush. There wouldn't be a point if they did." Her nose crinkled, trying to get an idea of whoever was following them was doing. Thomas huffed, she had a good point.

"Let's just-" She raised the torch as she spoke. Her sentence was cut off but something behind him, her eyes widening in terror. Thomas jerked his head in the direction of where she faced.

A man stood there, just on the edge of the flashlight's range. He was like an apparition - there was something off about him, something unreal. He leaned to the right, his left foot and leg jiggled. His left arm twitched. His hand clenching and unclenching. The man wore a dark, fancy suit but it had been ripped, now filthy. Water, or something fouler, soaked both knees of the pants.