Seperation // Gally x Reader

Chapter Nineteen - The Club

We flood into the streets below, strangely calm despite what just happened. Brenda slings her pack around her shoulder and kneels to the ground. "Hey, you hear that?" Thomas asks, walking ahead of us. I drop by Brenda's side when I notice her clutch her ankle.

Thomas gets suspicious when neither of us respond, so he turns around. He immediately walks back over to us as Brenda unwraps a bandage, her breathing heavy. "You all right?" I ask, helping her rip the fabric. She pulls up her leggings and I wince. A claw-like gash runs right along her ankle, accompanied by a skin-piercing bite mark. The wounds are oozing and red, the skin around them barely holding on.

Her breath hitches in her throat, the beginning noises of a sob. I rub her back, taking the bandage from her hand and telling her to look the other way. Tenderly, I wrap it around her leg, careful not to hurt her too badly whilst still keeping it tight enough. When I seal it around the cuts, I see her bite her lip out of the corner of my eye. I can't imagine how painful this must be.

"Brenda," Thomas says solemnly. Brenda looks up at him, eyes glassy. "Yeah, yeah. I know," she says. My brows furrow. "I don't. What do we know?"

"These cuts are gonna be my downfall. Not sure how long I've got before I, y'know, 'crank out'."

"What?"

"It's the same as what happened to Winston, y/n. Let's just hope it's not as bad this time," Thomas says. He turns back to Brenda. "We're going to get you a cure, just hang tight." She nods and pulls the backpack back over her shoulder. "Let's just go find Marcus," she says. I lend her my hand to help her stand before we continue.

We walk through blocks of slums, starving people living out of towels piled on wood. I spot a child who's so malnourished I could count the bones in their body. They all wear ragged clothing, living off the destruction and rubble, scavenging for any scraps they can find.

"Okay. Try to blend in," Brenda says, her voice hushed. I keep my head down, eyes glazing the floor. I doubt Thomas did a great job, his face naturally looks out of place in every situation.

We walk past a small congregation of people huddled over a barbecue. The smell drifting from the meat has a rotten odour with a fleshy tinge. The shape was unnatural, and it was hard to tell if it was even meat at all.

All of these people banished beyond the city walls, disowned and detested by society, surviving on the pathetic discards of the more fortunate. How could anyone condone this? Surely, even those working at WICKED have some compassion.

When I think harder about it, I'm sure they're glad to be ignored. If they were cared about, it would only result in their children being taken and drained for a substance only given to those who can afford it.

We walk onto a new block, and the atmosphere changes completely. The buildings stand taller, painted a chalky white with large banners hanging down. These people don't have the same depressing manor as the others, instead they hold themselves with pride and mischief.

Each person I see either holds a bottle, or a needle. They wear different clothing, more exposed skin with vibrant, salient patterns. We walk under the canopy of a building, sticking close to Brenda.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Thomas asks. I spin my head and notice a woman stand and follow us. Her hair is bleach blonde, and she has a dark streak of eyeliner painted on her eyes. It's smudged over time, but still brings a lighter tint to her sky-blue eyes.

"You here for the party?" She asks us, her voice sweet and suggestive. Her neck is decked out with jewellery, glinting in the rays of sunlight. "Uh, no. We're looking for Marcus. This is his place, isn't it?" Brenda replies.

"This is my place." The voice belonged to a man standing behind us. He wore a plum-coloured suit, the colour matching the bags under his eyes. He takes a sip of a ruby beverage and steps towards us. "Are you Marcus?" Thomas asks.

"Marcus doesn't live here anymore," the man replies, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. He holds his hand up to my hair, caressing my feather. "Hm. This is pretty." I stand there, staring at him, trying to act polite.

"Do you know where we can find him?" Brenda asks, snapping his attention away from me. "Sure, sure. He's over in zone B," he says. "Okay, what's zone B?" Thomas asks. The woman slides her hand down his arm, "That's where they burn the bodies."

"Look, has anyone else been by here looking for him? Group of kids our age? They had a girl with them. Dark hair," Thomas says, obviously referencing to Teresa. The man brings his finger to his temple and taps it. "Ah, you know, uh, they might be inside. Here," he pulls a canteen from his pocket, an olive-green liquid sloshing inside.

"Drink this," he demands. "What is it?" Thomas asks, eyeing it up. "The price of admission," the man says, shoving it closer towards us and tapping Thomas on the chest.

"Drink it!" He shouts, the liquid spilling out of the bottle. I snatch it from his hand and bring it to my lips, taking a large sip. Brenda takes it from me and tries it herself. It burns my throat, and tastes almost as bad as Gally's drink back in the Glade. The man chuckles at us before pointing at Thomas. "Your turn."

Brenda passes it to him, and he goes to take a small sip. The woman holds the bottom of the bottle and tilts it upward, offloading more of the drink than Thomas bargained for. The man grabs Brenda and I's shoulders and shakes them slightly. "All right! You three enjoy the party." He pushes us through the curtain of the entrance.

The inside was set up with couches and open space, perfect for dancing. Women were grinding on people's laps, and everyone seemed more than a little out of it. "Right. We should split up, see if we can find the others. And hey, don't drink anything else," Brenda says, walking away from Thomas and I. I exchange a look with him and shrug, walking to the right as he continues forward.

I scanned each face for familiarity, but nothing. My vision began to swirl. The room was a blur of neon and bodies. Everything thrummed with a crazy beat that pounded in my ears like a drum. The music was a monster, swallowing me whole with its grizzly voice. Lights flashed and danced, painting the room in a kaleidoscope of colours. People were everywhere, their bodies slick with sweat, hair pulled in high up-does. It was like being inside a giant, colourful, sweaty animal, and I was loving every second of it.

I was drawn towards cheering, entering a room where a boy was being put to fight against a crank in chains. People were whooping for them, and I found myself becoming one of them, cheering for death and bloodshed. A man held a gun to the roof, before bringing it to the crank's head, pulling the trigger in one swift bang. I flinch as the sound echoed through my brain.

I take a few steps back, stumbling into swaying people and furniture. I tumble into a man, his hand finding my waist. He spins me around, one hand gliding up to my cheek as the other grasps my hair. Our lips entangle, heat bouncing between our bodies. We pause for a brief second, and I catch a glimpse of Gally's face. He pulls me back, our lips dancing together until I pull away.

My vision is almost black, a whirlpool forming in my stomach. "Get away from me," I say quietly with my last bit of sanity. He holds his hands in surrender and takes a few steps back. "Alright, darlin'. Just though you were into it." Within a matter of seconds, he's found himself in the arms of the next girl.

The room around me seems to spin, and before I know it, I'm lying face down on the floor, unconscious.

A/n: realised I can't actually just fuck it with my exams cause all of them have bits I have to do at home 🥲 I've completed one and I'm doing the rest over the weekend so hopefully I'll be more active after x