All That We Are | NEWT (tst)

Twelve | NOWHERE IS SAFE

Night Three

The blinding light was sudden and violent, and Ada hissed as she threw her free hand up to cover her eyes.

"What the fuck?" She mumbled, squinting up at the giant overhead lights, the fairy lights strung up, the lamps on the tables – all of them sparked to life, illuminating every dust covered surface, every sign of life overturned by death. She looked back at Newt, standing with his hand over his eyes, looking absolutely bemused.

He shook his head, frowning, and together they moved towards the door to where the others were convening in the hallway.

"What the hell's going on?" Winston asked, backpack hanging loosely from his hand.

Ada shrugged on her jacket, running her fingers over the soft material as she shoved her scalpel in the pocket. "I have no idea."

"Looks like Thomas and Minho found power." Frypan said.

"Is that a good thing?" Jack asked.

Newt shook his head. "Not if there's something in here with us. Come on, we should try to find-"

A distant clatter cut through the air, slicing down the hallway, followed back a frantic yell. "Run!"

Ada turned, baffled, and peered down the hallway. Two familiar figures came careening around the corner, kicking up dust, arms flailing. "What the hell are they doing?" Unease unfurled in her gut.

"What the-"

"Run!" Thomas swung his arms madly, the beam of his flashlight bouncing frantically off the walls. "Go!"

A swarm of bodies skidded around the corner, and Ada's heart thudded to a stop in her chest.

They were screaming, yelling, the sounds garbled and cracked on their lips. Writhing bodies slammed into each other in their haste, dozens upon dozens barrelling down the hallway towards them at full speed, and for a moment Ada stood frozen.

Her heart picked up a frantic beat in her chest as she swore and spun on her heel, passing the others as she took off in a sprint. "Run! Go!"

"Oh, shit!" Newt yelled, shoving his backpack on.

She could hear footsteps pounding behind her, see the flashlights dancing on every available surface, but didn't dare look behind her as the sounds of screeching and gargling picked up.

"Go!" Minho yelled. "Get out of here! Go!"

"Run!"

"Come on!"

They skidded around the corner, her boots sliding on dirt and rubble, her heartbeat violent in her throat and ears. She had no idea where they were going, had no idea how many of them were – all she knew was that once again they weren't safe, that once again they were running for their lives.

She was sick of it, and didn't even bother to bite back the slew of curses falling from her lips as she legged it to the escalators, praying that the others were still behind her.

The escalators were unmoving, and her thighs burned as she scampered up them. She could see Winston and Frypan coming up on the other side in her peripheral vision. Winston stumbled, hand flying out to catch himself on the railing. "Thomas, Minho, what are those things?!"

"I don't know!" Thomas's voice echoed from right behind her. She could feel him at her back, urging her on as she used the railing to pull herself up the last few stairs. "Just keep going!"

"Move, move!" Minho urged.

These must have been the cranks Janson had warned them about, Ada realised. She hadn't gotten a good look at them, beyond the screaming mass of bodies emerging from the blackness. She chanced a frantic glance over her shoulder, loose hair catching in her eyes and mouth, and caught a glimpse of human-like figures scrambling up the stairs behind them.