Unintentional Subject - Book 1 In The Jessie Series

Chapter 68: Not Dead

I went unnoticed as I slid into the Deadheads. Climbing the trees I hid in the tips of the trees. I crouched on the branch and slowly observed what was happening.

The Glade was smoking. The homestead was still mostly intact, the kitchen was mostly functioning, I could see Frypan and a few Track hoes trying to clean up enough to cook. I saw the crops destroyed, nothing survived, there were still small fires here and there scattered in the fields. I saw Clint, Jeff and Newt running between a few Gladers laying or propped up, they were close enough I could hear them yelling at each other.

"Toss me that gauze!"

"Dude, Where'd the burn cream go?"

Chuck was sitting by the Slammer, his back on the door. He looked like he was in one piece. I couldn't see Teresa or Thomas or Winston or Minho. I saw Gally though. He was storming across the Glade towards Jeff and Clint.

"Captain Gall." Newt said with an eye roll as he straightened up.

"Where is she?" He barked.

"Who?"

"You know who! Where is she?"

"How the bloody hell would I know?"

"You friends with her!" He roared.

"Yeah, I am. And I haven't seen her since the first wave of buggen' Grievers were blown sky high!"

"You're hiding her!"

"Where Gally? Where the bloody hell would I be hiding her in the Glade, it's not exactly that buggen' big!? You've searched the bloody Glade! You also have Tessa and Tommy locked up!"

"You better tell me Newt!" He threatened, pointing a huge finger in Newt's face.

Newt just rolled his eyes and folded his arms. "Or what? You goin' to lock me up too? Hit me? What Gally, what are you gonna be bkoody do?"

He growled and spun away and stormed away. Jeff slid over to Newt.

"You have no idea?"

"None. I...I don't wanna think she was one who was bloody taken...but...its starting to look that way. No one knows where she is."

"How's Minho?"

"...not doing well..."

I stopped listening and turned towards the Bloodhouse. I slowly and quietly crept through the branches. I had to stop and wait for a group of guys to pass by. They were dragging some broken pieces of a building. Once they were gone I kept going. I stopped and pulled my backpack to the front and pulled my mask out. The smoke was thick from the still smoldering barn.

Slowly creeping forward, I kept my eyes open for Winston. I had seen him briefly. I got as close as I could and crouched down, waiting. I waited a solid ten minutes before I caught a glimpse of him. He had soot and ash smeared on his face, he looked tired, he had a big thing of gauze wrapped around his upper arm, but he was whole and in one piece. He came around the smoldering building and leaned on the one remaining support pole, a bottle of water in his hand.

I had seen Fry, Jeff, Clint, Newt and Chuck, they were safe; I knew Thomas and Tessa were locked up. Winston was here, I had no idea where Minho was and panic turned my stomach.

I broke a piece of a small branch and snapped it smaller. I threw it at Winston. It hit him in the back of the head. He whipped around, his eyes wide. This time I pulled a small little knife from my holster and tossed it. It hit the post he was leaning on, only inches from his face. He jumped but then smirked as he looked at the knife still quivering in the wood.