Left Behind -Gally-

Chapter 49

By the time they entered the area outside the walls, which was overflowing with people, Brenda had managed to clean Emma's wound. The cut didn't need stitches. Truthfully, it wasn't very deep, but it did bruise. Emma waved off Thomas and Newt's concerned comments, promising them she was fine.

It was just a scratch. Emma had worse injuries. Like a bullet to the stomach, she thought but didn't say. Although, Frypan's side-eye was enough of an indication that her comment implied enough.

Jorge stopped the car outside the city, where a community had grown in the deserted buildings. Driving would be too much of a challenge, and it would bring them unwanted attention. They were still fugitives of WICKED.

Emma stayed beside Brenda as they walked toward the city walls, which were still a significant distance ahead. The people around her were dirty, like the ones that Jorge once had working for him. Like the people living in the condemned buildings around Marcus.

That felt like another lifetime. Emma had nearly forgotten.

Looking around, it seemed that nobody was paying them any attention. The group was just like everyone else. Emma pulled at her green jacket, suddenly feeling warm. Adjusting the collar of her black shirt, she tried to remain calm. The amount of people around her was overwhelming.

It was loud. So loud that focusing on her own thoughts felt next to impossible. Thomas led the group through the crowd. She made sure to stay close.

"This place has gone to hell," Jorge commented from somewhere behind her. It made her think that it wasn't always this way.

"We just need to stick together," was Thomas's response. It didn't matter what was around them as long as they were together.

"We are the voice of the voiceless," a person spoke into a megaphone. Emma glanced over her shoulder, noticing multiple vehicles driving down the street. People got out of the way, allowing them to pass. "They hide behind their walls." The group stepped back, not wanting to be in the way. The last thing they needed was to be run over on their rescue mission. "They think they can keep the cure for themselves." Emma took a deep breath, clenching her hands as she frantically looked around. It was all overwhelming. She felt uneasy.

"Hey," Thomas said, placing a hand on her back. He ducked his head, wanting to keep the conversation between them. He had noticed her tense posture and was worried. "You okay?"

"While they let the rest of us wither and rot!"

Emma looked away from the vehicle as it passed and up at Thomas. Their faces close together, noses mere inches apart. She stared into his warm, brown eyes and smiled reassuringly. "I'm okay." She grabbed his hand, squeezing gently before letting go.

Thomas's eyes scanned the injury on Emma's face, but she forced herself to turn away. Her focus returned to the vehicles and the men on the back. Some wore masks, others didn't, but they all had weapons. They weren't WICKED. That much was obvious.

"There are more of us than there are of them." People were cheering. "I say we rise and take back what is ours!" As the cars passed, they moved back onto the street. "Let's bring back victory!"

Emma brushed the hair out of her face. The cars turned the corner, vanishing from sight. A gentle hand on her shoulder guided her forward. Glancing at the person, she realized it was Jorge. Offering him a hesitant smile, she followed after the others.

Thomas ducked through an opening in the wall. The rest of them followed without hesitation.

On the other side of the building was a crowd of protestors. They were screaming, but the words blended together. Some were holding signs, and others were waving articles of clothing.