They weren't there in the beginning, but they're here now.
The bed on his left held a teenage boy with hair so blonde it was almost white.
'That's my twin brother Chase.'
Aris looked over to the occupant on the bed to his right. This bed held a t...
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Storms and Warnings
Night had fallen once again, and the gang, minus one, had set up camp under an abandoned ship. Aris had collected spare wood and arranged them in a pile to make a fire. Days in the scorch were hot hot, while nights were cold cold. It's a true wonder how anyone, if anyone, lives there. Aris put two pieces of wood together, ready to rub them together to generate frictional heat to kickstart the fire, but Eleanor's middle and ring finger sparked, power shooting out of their tips to burn the wood and start the fire. Aris ceased his rubbing, pursing his lips and giving one strong nod to the fire, "alright then."
Minhon angrily carved at a forgotten piece of wood, another true friend of his lost. "I thought we were supposed to be immune."
"Not all of us." Teresa shook her head, and then quickly added on an 'I guess' when she saw Eleanor glance at her. Eleanor let her eyes linger on the other girl, watching as she swallowed harshly, before slowly letting her dangerous eyes drift back to the fire. She loved playing mind games on other people.
"If Winston can get infected we should assume so can the rest of us."
Eleanor winced, most of the Glader's thoughts consisted of previous memories of Winston and the Glade. Even though they were trapped, at least they got to experience a few moments of true happiness. Here, in the scorch, it felt like one bad thing happened after another. When were they going to get a break?
Thomas abruptly stood up and stalked off after Frypan's comment. "I never thought I'd say this, but I miss the glade."
This time, it was Chase who watched him go. He made a move to follow him but Newt had already gotten up to console his friend.
"Can you tell?" Eleanor brought her curious eyes to Minho, her eyes landing on the knife he twirled slowly in his hands. Minho slowly lifted his head to stare at Eleanor dead in the eyes, the twisting light of the fire giving him a dangerous vibe. Eleanor gave him a warning look, making sure he knew to choose his next actions very carefully. "Can you tell out of the six of us, who are immune?"
