The Boat On The Beach

Chapter Ten: Red Laser

The car slowly made it way through the deserted towns. Buildings seemed to be made out of sand and ash, and everything was sandy. The scorch had never been a beautiful place, just rubble and dust, swallowed by the golden light of the sun. Thomas's grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly. He glanced up at the mirror, at the speck that was Team B's car. He swallowed dryly, afraid that a crank would just pop out at any moment. He glanced at his second in command, who had of course, taken shotgun. He was staring out the window and looked uncomfortable. Thomas met Minho's eye in the mirror, who frowned softly at him, clearly wondering what was on the blond's mind. The boy focused back on the road, and chewed on his lip.

A while later he noticed that something had caught Newt's attention. He was frowning deeply at something out of Thomas's window.

"Newt? What is it?" He asked.

"Nothin' just thought I saw something, but I didn't." He shrugged and sat back, still looking uneasy. Then something caught Thomas's eye. A flicker on the corners of his peripheral.

"The shuck?"

"You see it too?" Minho asked from the back, leaning forward slightly. The boy nodded.

"I don't know what it-" the red laser rested on Thomas's forehead. He didn't think fast enough to process what was going on, before Newt had grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down towards the pedals. The shot went over their heads and the boy gulped.

"What in the-"

"Thomas watch out!" The boy snapped back upright, a millisecond too late as they rammed head first into a crumbling wall

***

Thomas awoke with a searing pain going through his stomach and his head on the dashboard. He felt something thick on his forehead, which he was very familiar with. Blood. It was colder, and darker, how long had he been here? Where were the others? He opened his eyes through dark clumps of blood that had dried on his lashes. He looked around. The car was wrecked.

"Shit" he suddenly remembered he wasn't alone. Newt was sprawled across the two front seats with his head on Thomas's thigh. One hand was bent at possible-fraction-degree and his shirt was covered in blood. Thomas turned to look at Minho, who was lay in between the two front seats, and looked on the most part, unharmed. A few cuts and bruises but nothing major. The boy shook them both awake frantically. Minho groaned and rubbed his head. Newt clutched his chest, where his cut had obviously opened up again.

"Well done Thomas' Minho grumbled. Newt panted, and Thomas already knew he'd lost blood, probably too much. 

"Where are the others?" he whispered. Thomas shook his head. 

"Let's just fix each other up and then we'll figure out what's going on." Thomas mumbled and held his head. Minho dug out the medical kit and as Thomas tried to bandage up Newt's wrist he tried to contact Teresa on the walkie talkies. Nothing. Newt frowned in pain.

"Well thats reassuring."

"Why are we not talking about the sniper that tried to kill Thomas. They could be here any minute. We need to get moving." Minho frowned and managed to open one of the mangled doors. He clambered out.

"Let me just patch up Newt's chest then we can go." Thomas grumbled as he tried to ignore the searing pain in his head."Newt, can I see it?" He asked tenderly. Newt frowned.

"I don't have a choice do I?" Thomas shook his head. The brit sighed and lifted up his shirt. The wound was right in the middle of his chest, deep and dark, the edges gently tinted in green. The most disturbing thing was that it wasn't a slit, it was a hole. Newt hadn't just stabbed himself, he'd twisted the knife and pushed it in until his skin hit the hilt.

"Shuck Newt." he whispered. 

"Just get on with it so we can get out of here." Newt wouldn't meet his gaze. The boy nodded and carefully, as softly as he could, began to stitch it back up. Newt hissed and groaned in pain.

"Shut up you slinthead, its not that bad." Thomas mumbled. Newt scoffed.

"You should try it."

"Stay still!"

"I'm trying!" They bickered until his wound was cleaned and bandaged. Thomas helped Newt out of the car and slung on a bag and gun, as did the blond.

"So what do we do now?"

"Thats a good question."