Fire ➳ TDC, Thomas [3] ✓

Chapter {4}

(A/N): I have a lil surprise for you all. Now, now nobody is dying yet, so that is a plus. But be ready, cause this gon be good.

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If there was one word I would describe that car ride with, it would most definitely be tense, for I felt something drill the back of my head, two eyes watching me from behind and yet I knew it could not be anyone else's but Thomas' sad, shattered look he gave me with our previous departure.

I shifted slightly in my seat, unable to watch the passing lines of burned buildings, lifeless that in heaps of gray cement and broken glass, rubble lay intact, without a soul to be seen and accompanied by soulless grayness of the ground whose quickly shifting bottom I spent countless minutes watching.

My gaze brushed over the car's behind, meeting Thomas' who instantly shifted his to the window- it was killing me to be distant with him, to avoid and stop talking to him over a thing so small that it fueled me with a wish to fix that falling out, if one would call it that way, instantly, there and in that moment.

No longer than five minutes after I brought my gaze back to the front of running, broken buildings Jorge stopped the vehicle at the outer perimeter of that ruined city, shadow of walls looming the closer we got to them whose cold and dark only increased over the scattered market stalls as we walked around the huddling groups of bleakly looking people, their faces painted in agony and pale in color who, with an emotionless voices called and shouted, beaconed more costumers over.

The marketplace, full with clothing material hanging above worn out racks and with minimum protection they provided from intense heat which glistened upon the faces of passerbys in a from of drops, yet who gave no certain care to it continuing to work underneath the merciless heat.

I deftly evaded a truck situated between hurrying groups of people, my feet carefully moving after Fry, him and I being the last of our people to follow gradually stopped seeing a black truck carrying men dressed in black, fading outfits whose shouts I did not hear at all. There was yet one amongst them, one whose attention trained me and stance rigid no matter that he leaned over the car's back showed something of a shock, even though I could not see his eyes behind the protection mask I did notice his hair was a lot longer then of the one who sat next to him.

My lips pulled together abruptly, eyes stayed on the man who stared into mine behind that mask and being freezing on the spot after taking in notice of a long scar running down the exposed skin of his arm- long, almost too similar to the memory of what I had happened half a year back in the Maze.

I snapped back to reality with their disappearance, Fry nudging me to continue as I gained attention to it far too late and as my feet began moving involuntary, faster and faster after the car that left nothing but a void which soon filled with people. Passing the streets, massive walls came into my sight, their looming structure providing a big leap in difference between the horrifying outside where those sick people lived and the inside, where WICKED controlled life and where people even partly could live normally.

Yet, what could surely testify none of it would be named 'normal' were dozens of gray machine guns plastered to the surface, blended in with the color that I had only noticed after having pushed through the crowds, their protesting, yelling and shouting ringing in my ears all the way to the front.

"That's it. That's our way in." Thomas said hopefully, pointing at a small gap between two massive walls which almost as if swam in my vision, closed and reopened again and again just like I remembered maze walls did.

I didn't have neither time, nor strength to tell him about those guns up there, as shifting my head to left I noticed the guard, a man who I saw earlier with the scar running up his arm and who now forcefully moved through the crowds, people that stood in his way pushed to the side only so he'd be able to reach our group.