The Cure

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Screams echoed throughout my endless mind. Everything was so dark and scattered about. More voices. They were jumbled and disoriented, I couldn't figure out where they were coming from.

"Nora!"

Someone screamed my name over and over again. Like a record player was stuck on a beat. Then, as if I was pulled from an abyss, my eyes opened and the sun was in the sky.

"Get up!"

It was Minho who had waken me, I sat up, still in a trance of sleep. I checked my surroundings, and the realization had came to me. I had fallen asleep at the rock, and it was no dream.

"Shank! Get the hell up!" Minho yelled, grabbing my underarms and lifting me to my feet.

Now, fully awake, I asked," What's going on?"

"It's Newt, he's infected." Minho said, sadness laced in his voice.

"What.." My voice quivered as I said this. And for a second, just a split second, I almost fell to my knees in agony. But I stood my ground, clenched my fists, almost to stop me from screaming. "Where is he."

Minho ran and I followed. We ran out of the camp, towards the desolated forest, and I could hear shouts growing louder. A hideous scream, almost animal like, erupted from the green.
Minho and I ran into the woods without hesitation, we knew what was on the line, and we didn't want to lose him.
The screams were coming from Newt, who was being pinned down by Frypan and Thomas. Two other girls, one with long blonde hair and a shorter girl with brown hair, watched the scene unfold. Thomas had tears threatening to escape his eyes and Frypan, terror laced in his eyes. My legs took themselves to Newt's side and I planted myself to the ground.

"What happened?" I asked breathlessly.

Thomas was the first to speak. "We were just talking and he just.."

I didn't need to push him to answer. You can do this Nora, you've done it once. It had to work again.

"Take him to medical." I ordered.

"What the hell?" Minho said more than asked. "The flare is incurable!"

"Yeah, how the hell are we going to help him?" Thomas said, letting his tears stream down his face freely.

"Vince isn't going to accept this." The blonde girl muttered, pity in her eyes.

"Just trust me. Okay?" I placed my hand on Thomas's shoulder. "He isn't going anywhere."

Thomas nodded and struggled to keep Newt under control. His frail body wiggled under Frypan and Thomas's strength. I followed them closely, Minho and the two girls following behind.

"What the hell is this?" A older man asked. He had gray hair and dark skin, wise eyes scanned Newt's state. "This is.."

We didn't give him time to answer. We rushed passed him, heading straight for the medical tent. Thomas and Frypan laid Newt down on the bed, quickly tying his hand to the bedposts.

"Let..me...out!" Newt screamed, spit flying from his mouth. His eyes were already blood shot, blue liquid barely escaping his mouth.

"I need a long tube and two syringes, now!" I ordered, forcing myself not to look at Newt.

Thomas looked through the cabinets, quickly handing me the supplies I needed. I sat on the bed with Newt, and it looked like his eyes cleared up, almost as if he was pushing the virus out of him. But his crankiness returned quickly, shoving away whatever was left of Newt.

"Just let me fucking die!" He spat.

"I know you don't mean that Newt." I said, connecting the tube with the syringes. I quickly inserted a needle into my arm, and connected the other with Newt's vein. I watched as my clean blood entered his arm, and I prayed this would work. I remembered that night, finding him just like he was now. So broken and far past the changing. I remembered how venerable he was, how he couldn't refuse my help, even if he wanted to. Even if he wanted to die, then or now.
Slowly, Newt began to calm. His blue veins disappeared, his soft eyes returning to their brown color. His eyes closed, as if finally accepting the medicine. But as I gave more blood, the world became dizzy and distraught. I was seeing double, and I soon realized I had given more than needed. All for him.
My eyes closed, and I heard a soft thud of my body hitting the ground.

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