Chapter 11

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"So Lizzie," Newt asks, eyeing me as we pick apples out in the Gardens. "What'd you think of the Greenie?"

I hesitate, trying to figure out how to word my thoughts. "Well, I'm not a fan of him; he asks too many questions. However, he does seem to get along well with Chuck."

"I have to agree with ya there. I find him bloody annoying," Newt complains. "The boy doesn't follow instruction, he demands immediate answers to his thousands of questions, and he smells."

I chuckle at Newt's last comment. "You probably smell too, smart one."

More apples are placed in my basket as I start humming a vaguely familiar tune, and I notice Alby and Thomas out in the middle  of the Glade. The Greenie waves at me and I just look down as if I didn't see him. I hear Zart's voice calling me over to carry a full basket of apples to Frypan for dinner. As I pick up the basket, a booming siren erupts which causes me to drop the basket and spill apples all over. I momentarily forget about the spilled apples and sprint over to the Box; the Greenbean alarm for some reason is going off. I don't think there's ever been two Greenie's in the same month, let alone the same week. With my luck, Thomas jogs over and wants to know what's going on.

"A bloody newbie is coming up in the Box right now," Newt tries to explain without blowing up at the boy.

"So?"

"Thomas, there's never been two newbies arriving in the same month, much less two consecutive days," I grumble at him.

*****

I stand near the front of the group of Gladers since I'm one of the shortest here, and groan as I hear the Greenie asking another amount of endless questions; this time it's about the Box.

"-kept him in a box as a reminder to future kids not to be so stupid," Chuck finishes, trying to be nice and answer Thomas' questions.

"Serious?" Thomas asks, followed by probably the only question he hasn't asked yet. "How do you know it's not just supplies coming up?"

I turn around to the two boys behind me, quite annoyed with all of these questions, and finally snap. "The supplies come up at the same time each week, and there is no alarm for the delivery. So if you would kindly stop pestering everyone with your stupid questions, and I believe I can speak for the rest of us, we'd all be grateful."

A muffled 'boom' fills the Glade, signalling the arrival of the Box. Newt and Alby pry open the Doors and the Glade goes quiet. A thought pops into my head as the boys lean over to get a better view inside the Box. Maybe it's a girl- I really need a friend to talk to. Not that some of the guys here aren't friends, but it just isn't the same. Jerking up with a scrunched expression, Newt scans the crowd until his eyes land on me. His lips part, and he mouths 'it's a girl'. It takes everything from me to prevent a squeal from escaping and a wide grin from forming on my face. I finally have another girl!

"No way," Alby murmurs as if in a trance. "Two Greenies in two days, and now this? What's going on Greenie?"

Thomas's face goes bright red. "How am I supposed to know?"

"Why don't you just tell us what the shuck is down there Alby?" Gally shouts, obviously irritated.

"It's a girl," Newt announces to the boys.

"That's not even half of it," Newt tells me in a hushed tone. "I think she's dead."

My eyes glance at him, puzzled, while a couple Builders grab the ropes; Gally has a sick look of fascination in his eyes. The girl's lifeless body is eventually lifted into view. She seems to be about my age, dark hair, and pale skin; I sneak a look over at Thomas, and he can't seem to keep his eyes off of her.

"Greenbean. Over here," Alby calls, waving Thomas over, causing the boy's eyes to peel away from the girl.

I turn away, having enough of this drama. I'm ready for some alone time, maybe in a tree or somethin'. The girl suddenly sits up, turning my attention back to her briefly, and utters a single phrase, before going unconscious once again.

"Everything is going to change."

Chills run down my spine, causing me to freeze where I'm at. Newt nudges me, showing me a piece of paper. Immediately upon seeing it, I take off with tears threatening to fall. The five words on the paper continue to bounce around in my head as I run off.

She's the last one. Ever.

Fog In the Memory • TMR Book 1Where stories live. Discover now