The Memoriam Files: Minds [EDITING] ✔

| Chapter 10, Two strangers

|Raging on too long and all will stay unsolved

|Song: Do I ever, Kensington

|||

Dawn's P.O.V.

We had started running again. The sun was slowly rising and with it came the heat. I had taken off my jacket, binding it around my waist. It was a miracle what some food and a good night rest could do to a person. I felt much better, stronger, though there was a dull aching in the back of my head. I decided to ignore it and focus on the sound of running feet hitting the ground, panting boys and the small conversations going on here and there.

It wasn't until the sun had fully risen that Minho called us to a halt.
'What's going on?' Newt asked.
'Look forward, you dumb shank,' Minho responded.
I turned around and my eyes widened. In the distance two people were running straight towards us. By the little cloud of dust appearing after them they seemed to be running. I narrowed at the strangers and somehow I felt scared. We outnumbered them by far and yet there was something unsettling about this.

'Everyone pack in tight,' Minho said. 'And get ready to fight these shanks the first sign of trouble.'
I took a deep breath, feeling awfully naked without my bow and knives. Somehow I ended up standing next to Lisa who had her hand tightly around the gun in her belt.
'How many bullets do you have left?' I asked.
She kept on staring forward as she answered. 'Enough for those two to be dead if they try anything.'

Turning back forward I realised the figures were close enough to see them clearly now. A man and a woman, though I could only tell by their figure. Their faces were completely wrapped in clothes, except for a small cap to breath through and one around their eyes. The only thing exposed were their hands, which seemed to be red and burned. Their clothes were filthy and ragged, making their appearence even more unpleasent.

Soon they reached us and then they just stood there, panting as they caught their breath.

'Who are you?' Minho called out.

They didn't answer or move, making me even more nervous.

'Who are you?' Minho repeated.

Still no answer came and I could sense the whole group growing nervous.
Suddenly they started walking around us. I narrowed, hating the fact that I couldn't see them at the same time anymore. My palms were growing sweaty and finally they reached the spot they started in, both of them back in my view.
'There are a whole lot more of us than there are of you,' Minho said, his voice betraying his frustration. 'Start talking. Tell us who you are.'

'We're Cranks,' the stranger who I thought to be a woman spoke. The word sended a shiver down my spine.
'Cranks?' Minho asked. 'Just like the ones that tried to break into our building a few days ago?'
I frowned, not understanding why he said that. Thomas told me about it but these people had no clue.
'We're Cranks,' the man spoke. His voice held no kindness. 'Came to see if you're Cranks. Came to see if you've got the Flare.'

I saw Minho turn to Thomas and then at a few others, his eyebrows raised but nobody said anything. So he turned back towards the two strangers.
'Some dude told us we had the Flare, yeah. What can you tell us about it?'
'Don't matter,' the man responded. 'You got it, you'll know soon enough.'
'Well, what do you bloody want?' Newt asked. 'What's it matter to you if we're Cranks or not?'
The woman responded, but she acted as if she hadn't heard us. 'How'd you get in the Scorch? Where'd you come from? How'd you get here?'
Her questions were understandable. We did just appear out of nowhere into the middle of a desert. Still it made me nervous to be interrogated like this.
Minho leaned over to talk with Newt and Thomas. I kept looking towards the two strangers but heard their conversation anyway.
'What do we tell these people?' Minho asked.
'I don't know. The truth? It can't hurt,' Thomas said.
'The truth?' Minho said sarcastically. 'What an idea, Thomas. You're freaking brilliant as usual.' He turned towards the Cranks again and I stared at him, wondering what he was going to do. 'We were sent here by Wicked. Came out of a hole in the ground just a little while back, from a tunnel. We're suppose to go north, cross the Scorch. Does any of that mean a thing to you?'