Born Again

Chapter five

"Tommy!" Newt called from the bleachers. He waved for him to come sit.

   Thomas had decided to come after all. He felt bad about what happened with Ben but he still felt drawn to track. He assumed it was the same way he was drawn to being a Runner.

   He walked over and sat down next to his friend, looking out at the field. The track team was doing their warmup, their coach yelling at them to not be wimps. He saw Minho doing a one hand push-up. He grinned and nodded at Thomas.

   Thomas waved back before turning to Newt. "What're you doing here?"

   "Watching," he answered. "Supporting. I used to be on track, you know."

   "Why'd you stop?"

   "Hurt my leg," he answered, rubbing his ankle. "Can't run with a bloody limp."

   "What happened?" Thomas asked cautiously, knowing full well what happened.

   "You ask a lot of questions," Newt noted. Strangely, he didn't sound mad.

   "Sorry," Thomas muttered, looking down. "It's none of my business."

   Newt shrugged. "You're fine. I was just noting. But to answer your question, I fell out of a tree a while back. Snapped my leg in three different places, like a proper shank."

   "Wait, really?" Thomas said, relief flooding through. Maybe this Newt was better, happier, and not suicidal.

   Newt gave him a curious look. "Yeah, really. What do you think happened?"

   "Uh, I don't—" Thankfully the track team finished their warm up and started chanting, keeping Thomas from answering the question.

   "Gladers! Gladers! Gladers!" They yelled as they walked up to the starting line.

   "Gladers?" Thomas asked, confused but thankful for the change in topic. "Not an animal? Or 'WICKED' after the school?"

   Newt scoffed. "Nobody calls the it 'WICKED Highschool' anymore. It's a stupid name and nobody even knows what it stands for. Even the teachers have accepted calling it 'Highschool of the Glade'. That's why they're the Gladers."

   Thomas thought about that as the Gladers lined up on the track. He supposed that made enough sense. The MaE was made by WICKED but everybody rebelled against it and called the place The Glade. Very small similarity but it still fit.

   "Highschool of the Glade sounds cooler anyway," Thomas agreed then he nodded at the Gladers crouching down. "So is Minho any good?"

   Newt looked at him in shock.

   "Is he good?" He asked, pride in his voice. "Greenie, Minho is the best of the best."

   Minho proved Newt right when the coach blew the whistle and he took off. The runner sprinted ahead, beating everybody by half the track.

   Needless to say, Thomas was impressed.

~~~

"You were really good," Thomas told Minho on the walk home.

   Minho waved away the compliment but he beamed. "Tell me something I don't know."

   Thomas laughed. "How long have you been on the team?"

   "Three years."

   "So same time Newt moved here."

   Minho scrunched his eyebrows. "Hmm. Yeah. Never thought about it." He shrugged. Then pointed. "Oh, hey. Your neighbor is out."

   Thomas looked to where Minho was pointing. Next door, Chuck had just come out the door, wearing the same clothes he wore when he died.

   Thomas felt the blood drain from his face.

   "Thomas?" Minho asked, scrunching his eyebrows in concern. "You okay, man? You look really pale."

   Thomas ignored him, walking over to Chuck's house.

   "Thomas!" Chuck said happily. "Hey! Glad you're here. Hello to your friend too." Minho gave a halfhearted wave. "I'm about to head off to camp," he explained excitedly.

   "Camp?" Minho asked. "In the middle of the semester?"

   Chuck's smiled wavered slightly. "Huh. That's weird now that you mention it." He shrugged. "Oh well. Anyway, they have way more activities than last time. Zip lining, archery, canoeing, knife throwing—"

   "No," Thomas interrupted, panic flowing through him. "No, no, no. Chuck you can't go."

   Chuck frowned and Minho gave him a confused look.

   "Why not?" Chuck asked.

   Chuck's mom, Mrs. Cooper, walked out before Thomas had time to answer.

   "Oh! Hello, Thomas," she said brightly, locking the door and handing Chuck his backpack. "And hello Thomas' friend." She nodded at Minho.

   Minho held out his hand. "Minho. Pleasure to meet you."

   Thomas drowned out the introductions. He was trying to think of a way to stop Chuck from going. In his dream, Chuck was wearing those clothes and was stabbed with a throwing knife. Thomas knew he would die if he went. But he didn't know how to stop it from happening.

   "Alright, well, we should be going now," Mrs. Cooper said brightly. "Bye boys!"

   "Wait!" Thomas exclaimed, stepping in front of them. "Chuck you forgot your figurine. The one you've been carving. You can't leave that."

   "Right!" Chuck remembered. "Thanks Thomas."

   His mom rolled her eyes, unlocking the door. "I'll go help him look. We really need to leave," she explained, walking inside.

   Thomas turned around and walked over to the car, looking for a way to sabotage it.

   "Uh, what do you think you're doing?" Minho asked suspiciously, making Thomas jump. He'd forgotten his friend was still there.

   "Chuck can't go," he said again. "I have to stop them."

   "And why's that?" Minho asked, sounding genuinely curious.

   "Because he's going to die if he does."

   Minho scrunched his eyebrows as if he thought Thomas was joking. Realizing he was serious, he looked at the him in shock.

   "How do you know?"

   "I, uh, saw it in my dream," Thomas explained, realizing how unconvincing it sounded.

   "Your dream," Minho stated, clearly unamused.

   Thomas groaned in frustration. "You just have to trust me. We can't let them."

   Minho sighed, rubbing his temple. "I just don't think—"

   Chuck burst out the door with his figurine in hand, his mom close behind.

   "Found it!" The boy exclaimed, hoisting it above his head.

   "No!" Thomas exclaimed, completely out of ideas. "You can't go, Chuck. Please."

   "Why's that, Thomas?" Mrs. Cooper asked, walking over.

   "Please, Mrs. Cooper. If Chuck gets in that car he'll die."

   She laughed. "I'll drive safely, hun, don't worry," she assured him, climbing in the driver's seat.

   Chuck gave Thomas a quick hug before climbing in himself. He rolled down his window. "I'll be fine, Thomas. Don't worry. Bye!"

   The car pulled out of the driveway and drove down the street, towards Chuck's impending doom.

   Thomas sank to the floor. He'd failed. He wasn't able to save Chuck.