Flicker ~ Newt

7. Stung

Elaine

"I need firewood, Laney."

I stop halfway through tightening the laces on my boots and squint up at him. "It's shucking freezing out there though!" I protest, already dreading the bite of the wind beyond the walls.

"Please." His voice is soft, coaxing, and when I look up, he's already giving me that look — those warm brown eyes, wide and pleading, the same ones that always hit me right in the gut.

I groan and yank my jacket off the hook. "Fine. But I'm taking the Greenie as a pack horse." I spin on my heel and grab the poor guy by the arm as I pass. He flinches but doesn't resist.

"By all means," Newt says behind me with a smirk in his voice.

As soon as we open the door, the wind slams into us like a living thing. It howls past our ears, carrying the sharp sting of impending rain. Dust whips around our legs, and I can already feel the cold seeping into my bones.

The sun hangs low in the sky, struggling to pierce through the thick blanket of clouds. The whole Glade looks washed out in dull grays and whites. The horizon threatens a storm.

"Why did you want me to come with you?" the Greenie yells, even though he's right next to me. The wind steals his words, but I just catch them.

"Isn't it obvious?" I shout back, tugging my jacket tighter around my shoulders. "I didn't want to suffer alone."

He gives me a faint smile, like he's not sure if I'm joking or not. To be honest, I'm not either.

We make our way across the muddy yard and into the trees. As soon as we're under the canopy, the wind eases up, blocked by the dense foliage. It's quiet here, almost too quiet — like the forest is holding its breath.

"There." I point toward a heap of dry branches nestled under the curve of an old oak. "Grab those. I'll take care of this pile over here."

He nods and gets to work without complaint. Maybe he's smarter than the others give him credit for.

"So..." he says after a few minutes, not looking at me, his arms already full of kindling.

"So?" I ask, glancing over my shoulder.

"So what's up with you and Newt?"

I nearly drop the stick in my hand. "Where's your filter, Greenie? Don't you want to ease into it or something?"

"Nah, no time. So... what's going on between you two?"

I sigh, turning away from him as I pile more wood into my arms. "Honestly? I don't know. Ever since I came into the Glade, he's felt... familiar. Like I knew him before."

"Before what?"

"The Glade. It's like... there's this connection. Something buried deep. But I don't remember how it got there. Do you know what I mean?"

My cheeks burn, and I shove a few more sticks into his waiting arms just to have something to do with my hands.

"I mean... I guess?" he says, clearly out of his depth.

A sharp crack behind us makes both of us turn. My heart leaps into my throat.

Ben.

He's standing there at the edge of the clearing, barely visible in the dim light, his shoulders hunched, his eyes wild.

"Oh hey, Ben!" I call cautiously. "Did you need something?"

My stomach twists. Something's wrong.