Fire ➳ TDC, Thomas [3] ✓

Chapter {2}

"So what happened?" Thomas asked patiently, knelt in front of bruised Aris, almost whole right side of his face tinting purple, blue and other sickly colors making me sympathetic to what he must've been through yet too realise my growing anger for WICKED I couldn't control anymore.

Leaning, slightly shifting on my feet in a more comfortable position I held the edge of dusty, rather old table whose uneven surface as if bit into the palms of my hands, yet to which I payed no attention to as did the information rescued, new friends we had made proved to be of my better interest.

"We fought back," Aris started with a heavy sigh. "Tried to anyway."

"Lucky you found us at all," Sonya added carefully, her voice small. "They had as on the move a lot. I feel like something big was happening." She continued speaking, barely the words sunk to my head and were more like a heavy burden which I just could not consider or fragment the prices we had all paid under the happenings of six months ago all leading to the moment we had successfully rescued Sonya and Aris, but not Minho. It was all WICKED's fault, and mine too that I was sinking too deep into the world of belief th

"Any idea where they were heading?" Newt leaned closer, questioning.

"All I know is...they kept talking about a city." Aris slowly braved to speak again as previously our group had sunk into brief silence. A city...my memories flooded back, each reminding me of heat and sand, people near death who yet gave it no certain attention as they settled onto one rather distant yet that pushed back the others— There are two, I remembered Jorge saying that to us under the conducted rescue mission we started in Scorch, looking for Thomas and Brenda.

"I didn't think there are any cities left." Harriet added, obvious confusion behind her voice as I contemplated my choices of staying quiet or speaking up— in the end Brenda cut me off, making me unable to state out what Jorge had told us.

"Because there aren't." Brenda stated matter-of-factly, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "Not ones which are still standing anyway."

Ignoring her answer, Thomas leaned forward with confusion greatly evident upon his features as he began speaking again. "What about Minho? Why wasn't he on the train?"

Two rescued teen looked at each other, doubt, confusion and partly regret flashing in both their eyes. At last, Aris looked back to Thomas. "Sorry, Thomas. He was."

•

"There. That's it." Thomas soundly slammed a map to the table, its wrinkled surface close to falling apart, and letters smeared over the parchment paper it had been written over. He looked at me briefly, as if wanting to see if I agree before pointing at a seemingly random spot amongst others black and gray, fading dots. "It's a few hundred miles. Based on the railways and what Aris told us. This has to be where they're headed. This is where they're taking Minho. We take everyone who can fight, follow the road where we can, we make it back within a week."

I perked up at his plans, each second he had spent explaining it to us stung more after the realisation it was impossible for a plan like that to work, especially now that we had revealed ourselves to WICKED. I shook my head barely noticably, closing and reopening my eyes as if believing he would out of a sudden consider the danger he was putting himself into. "Thomas, this is..." I began, unable to form my thoughts any further.

"We have to do something." Thomas argued, a soft look crossing him as he found me looking back in disbelief.

"No, just please listen to me, for once, okay?" I said quietly, watching him nod with certain regret washing him over. "I would be right there with you trying to save Minho after the loss of—" My words cut themselves off instantly, mind running troubled and regretful as I desperately fought to compose myself again, successful in the end. "But, this is not possible. WICKED is expecting us, Thomas. They know us."