Her (Newt fan fiction/The Kill Order sequel)

Chapter 15 - A Little Death

It only really hit home for Newt when out of nowhere, Minho appeared by his side. His hands were balled into fists and Newt could tell his muscles were tensed. Minho was scared; brave, fearless Minho who laughed in the face of danger and was to sassy for his own good - was scared. And that made it real for Newt.

He remembered that a pile of lifeless bodies didn't appear out of thin air, yet the new inhabitants they'd acquired seemed to have.

And after all, appearing out of thin air was just a longer term for a Flat Trans.

"Newt, you got any shucking ideas on what the hell we are supposed to do? What the hell just happened?!"

Minho growled in Newt's ear, bringing him back from his thoughts.

"Um, a Flat Trans... They came through a Flat Trans, must have."

"You don't think? I know that! I mean what the hell are we meant to do NOW, now that 50 damn dead bodies that really damn stink have arrived!"

Newt was slightly taken a back, and mumbled slightly.

"Do you think anyone's alive?"

Minho looked seriously pissed off, but luckily - sort of - there was a cry from across the path and they looked at each other before both running towards the source of the yell.

It was Thomas, or so they guessed; their friend was crouched into a ball, rocking on his heels, his hands covering his face. Brenda's face was white and she looked terrified. It seemed all she could manage to point towards the pile of steadily rotting flesh, and Newt followed her direction to in front of it.

He wasn't very near to the bodies, and many were to distorted to make out a face, arms, legs. There was no mistake though - a girl was painstakingly walking, hurriedly, towards the crowd of villagers, her skin pale but tinged with blood. She limped: one of her legs was wrapped in a thick makeshift bandage. Her dark, long hair, which had once been voluminous and shiny but was now limp and tangled, whipped around her face in the wind.

Her face... He could barely look at the girl. She wore an exhausted, hopeless expression, yet her eyes, dark with lack of rest, screamed determination to match her mouth, her lips set into a cold line of pain. She looked like she'd just lived through hell. Surely, surely nothing could be worse than what she'd just experienced?

There was someone alive, with the bodies.

And not just anyone - she'd stumbled at the final hurdle, and they'd thought her dead. But she was here, alive. Thomas and Brenda's behavior made sense now.

She stopped a few meters away from Newt and Minho, and she collapsed against a wall.

Her breathing was rapid and shallow: she didn't have long.

Despite this, she looked Newt in the eye, and although she was whispering Newt heard every word.

"Their not... Dead. Their coming."

The whole situation was so absurd that even though he'd never particularly liked her, Newt walked over and pulled Teresa into a tight hug.

She was here. Teresa.