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FIVE 「the council meeting」 ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚
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AFTER ALL THE Runners had returned on the third day of Nick and Cole covering Section Four, Sylvia had begun to become increasingly frustrated and filled with self-doubt. Again and Again they said they couldn't find the crawl space she was talking about. She tried convincing Nick to let her go in with them so that she could show them but he refused.
Sylvia was confused about how they couldn't find it. Once it was described to them, it should have been obvious that there was something there. It couldn't have disappeared into thin air. Things like that don't just vanish. It was a concrete thing.
To rid of her anger and frustration, she practiced throwing knives in the Deadheads. She made strike after strike in the bark of the tree, chipping wood from its structure. A dent had begun to form on the surface. The knives made a high pitched whirring sound as they took flight in the air and it was enough to remind her of the Grievers.
Every throw got harder as flashes of the incident interrupted the secure system of her mind. Flashes of feverish warmth flooding through her and then becoming chilled within a couple of seconds. Her knuckles turned white over the handles of the knives. Her eyes were squeezed shut. She'd stopped throwing them.
"Sylvia."
She startled at the sound of Minho's voice, eyes opening and whipping her head to her right to face him. Her hands loosened around the knife and her arm hung at her side. "Jesus. What?"
He stepped closer to her and began in a low voice, "Tell me you're not fucking lying about this."
Her stance became tense again and her brows knitted together as she replied, "What are you talking about?"
"This whole Ronan thing."
Her expression wrinkled in both disbelief and annoyance, "Why would I fucking lie about that?"
