Chapter 17

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His eyes fluttered open. The sound of the gunshot barely heard, waking him up. He rubbed his eyes, then opened it widely as he sat up. Though he was a bit dizzy, he quickly realized there was something wrong. He was alone at this room. All of the sleeping bags were empty. Where's everyone? Thomas asked himself. He got out of the sleeping bag.

He rushed to the door, searching for everyone. He didn't need to go further just like he had in thought. He stopped at the main room, the place where he, Newt, and the others gathered last night. They all were at the main room. Some boys and girls crowded. He easily spotted his friends. They separated from the crowd. Sadness marked their face. Mouth closed, seemingly not wanting to talk.

He wanted the answer even though he didn't ask the question in his head. So, he approached the crowd. He pushed himself between the kids. He heard someone whined in pain. Once he got to the frontier line, he saw a boy lied down. Newt and Clarisse were at his right and left, examining his body. The other kids around him stood with eyes glistened by tears. They were crying?

"It's okay, Ed. You gonna be okay." Newt said with husky tone.

Thomas bent down, half sat beside Newt. That boy, Newt hadn't introduced him yet. He was about thirteen. His eyes was round. His hair was red. His lip whitened. Thomas was sure that wasn't the natural color of the boy's lip since he saw blood seeped out of his body. Newt desperately pressed the boy's chest. Thomas guessed that was where the blood came from. What happened to him? Has he been shot?

"I'm not gonna make it, Newt." The boy whispered. He shook his head powerlessly. His eyes blinked, as if those would close.

Thomas thought of the stupid thing. Doctor. Why don't they call a doctor? It was so stupid for sure. They would definitely do if they could. Something prevented them to go out there obviously. Suddenly the memory about Chuck filled his head. The boy that was controlled by WICKED to save him, he couldn't call a doctor for him either. Pain and guilt formed in his throat, making him chocked in his breath.

"No, Ed. No. Hey, look at me!" Newt still pressed his palm on the boy's chest. Tears welled up. "Look at me, shank! You will be alright."

"Newt, save the others." The boy seemed to try hard to keep himself conscious. "I believe ..." He grasped for his last breath, but couldn't finish his words. His eyes perfectly shut.

Newt stilled for a moment before he took his hand away from the boy's chest to clutch the boy's wrist. Newt shook his head. Tears finally spilled over his cheeks. He let himself sat down. Using his palm, he covered his face.

"Shuck it!" Newt spat, a low voice.

"What?" Clarisse looked at Newt in disbelief. "Ed? Ed? Ed, come back to me! Edward?" She shook the boy's shoulder, no respond anyway. She couldn't help, but sobbed.

Thomas didn't know for sure what had just happened. As long as he knew, the moment was so heart breaking. He knew, losing someone he loved never be easy, but hard and desperate. Reaching out, he squeezed Newt's shoulder-the one and only thing he could do.

"Shuck it!" Newt scoffed, letting his palm fell from his face. Thomas released his hand, letting Newt stood up only to place it again on Newt's shoulder. Newt turned to face him. He shook, ensuring Thomas that he could manage himself. That was what Newt did, trying hard to burry his sorrow.

Thomas faced the others. They showed the same expression. Minho looked at him, not saying a word. Thomas gave him an asking for the instruction look. But, Minho seemed to wait for command too. Thomas wondered who the one in charge now. If Minho thought he was the one, then Minho was stupid. He didn't have any ideas neither plans.

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