² 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐬 - 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘴

↳ 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎 ✗

⁂

//S A G E//

         I WATCH HOW RIVER stood up, shinning his flashlight on the rumble, like he was looking for something. "Why are you helping us?"

        River's voice came out strong and scruffy, like he hasnt had a drink of water for weeks. "Why wouldn't I help my little sister?" Thomas hums out, River continues; "Plus Jorge thinks you guys are our ticket to the safe haven."

        Thomas stands up, which makes me stand. "The what?"

         River turns around to look at us, the flashlight hitting my eyes which causes me to slightly flinch. "You know, paradise. Safe from the sun, free of infection. Supposedly, the Right Arm's been taking kids there for years. Immunes anyway."

         River picks up a crate, tossing it to the side as Thomas asks; "And you know where that is?"

          River scoffs. "No, but Jorge knows a guy." He wipes his nose. "Marcus. He used to smuggle kids up into the mountains. If Jorge made it out, that's where he'll be taking your friends."

         Thomas' eyebrows raise. "If he made it out?"

         River exhales deeply, looking at Thomas. "You ask a lot of questions." He nods his head towards the drain. "Can you just come over and help me with this? Please?"

        Thomas walks towards River, helping him lift up a heavy sewer drain. The second they push it to the side, we heard a screech. "Well, that doesnt sound good."

        River looks up at Thomas. "Yeah. Down here they'll be full term."

         I shrug and push past the boys. "Let's go." I jump down first, bending my knees as I hit the wet ground. I shine my flashlight down the tunnels, hearing the boys drop down next to me.

         River goes through a tunnel right, and I follow close behind. We had to duck down though, seeing that we couldnt stand. When we finally exited the tunnel, and we could finally stand. River shines his flashlight down the two tunnels.

        "I think it's this way."

         Thomas eyes widen. "You think?"

⁂

        "Did people live down here?" I ask River, my hand resting on the handle of my machete, which was still on my back in its sheath.