{carcinomati - an illness so vile, not even humankind can fight it.}
y/n's pov:
It had been four hours since the group of trainees had left camp.
"Four hours is too long – it was supposed to be a routine run, it should not be taking them this long. I think something has gone wrong out there." Gally says, nervously, as he paces around the council room.
Thomas called a premature meeting an hour ago to discuss the potential issue, and the others still haven't turned up.
Everyone was becoming restless; anxious for our friends outside the walls.
I wanted to remain positive. "Vince is with them; he knows what he's doing. If there was a problem, they would have signalled."
Thomas was pacing around the room also. "Vince could have just as easily been hurt by something out there – what if something went wrong? We need to go out and look for them."
"No. We can't lose any more people-" Minho was adamant on not leaving; he didn't want anyone else going out there. And I agreed with him.
He didn't need to further make his point, when he was cut off by the loud screech of the gates opening, followed by a scream.
It echoed throughout the camp and bounced off the walls. The scream was blood curdling; and I knew exactly who it was from.
"Help! Somebody help me!"
Instantly, I was on my feet, and sprinting towards the gate. Others had already rushed over, clawing at the man on the floor; at the boy who hovered over him.
I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I ran over to the man.
His face – I could barely describe it. He was convulsing on the floor, his limbs twitching, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as saliva creeped its way out of his mouth and pooled around his chin.
I didn't even know what to say.
Newt was right there, sobbing hysterically. "Y/n! Save him, he's dying!"
Vince was foaming at the mouth, as his face turned a ghostly white.
I didn't know what to do. I just simply stood there, mortified that the man who had protected the camp for so many years, was dying in front of me.
I felt completely frozen, glued to the spot I was stood in, watching Vince as he thrashed on the floor. Hands were grabbing me back and trying to get my attention. "Y/n! Snap out of it, I need your help!"
My ears were ringing, my head was foggy. But eventually, I zoned back in, and saw Lincoln's face near mine, yelling.
"Lincoln! Save him!" Newt screamed, crying and spluttering.
The man moved away from me, yelling back as he did so. "Y/n, I need you to grab the gurney and help me lift him. He needs to be in the infirmary immediately."
I didn't even think, I had no space to process anything further than Vince on the floor, dying. I moved quickly, heading through the infirmary doors and snatching the gurney from the operating table.
I scrambled back to the group, watching as Lincoln lifted the man's head slowly, cushioning it under his jacket. We placed the gurney next to Vince, "Ready, on three." The man said, positioning himself near to Vince's head.
On three, I lifted his legs, and placed Vince onto the gurney. He continued to thrash and convulse, struggling against the blood that bubbled up into his throat and dripped down his nose.
