Chariot | Group B → The Scorch Trials²

i.ten

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● [ i . continued ]

NO GLENNERS complained about the plan. In fact, they were glad to have one.

They'd been walking for hours. The heat was unrelenting, the air so dry it felt like their throats were lined with paper. But they still had food and water, rationed out carefully. Rogue tried to keep her mind off the thirst and on the buildings instead. They looked closer now, though she knew that could've been a trick of the sun. Everything shimmered in that strange, bending way the Scorch had, like the world itself couldn't decide what was real.

Rogue walked beside Wally. Hashslinger and Florence were close behind, all four of them trudging in rhythm, their boots crunching through sand and grit.

Wally kicked a pebble forward with her shoe. "So... this boy we've got to kill," she said. "Don't you feel a bit bad for the poor stick? I mean, he probably doesn't even know we're coming."

Rogue glanced at her. Wally's cheeks were flushed from the heat, her fringe plastered to her forehead. There was an earnest look in her eyes, one that reminded Rogue of when they'd first met.

"It's just something we've got to do," Rogue said flatly. "If it's him or us, then it's him. One life for the good of all of us."

"Still sucks," Wally said.

"Life sucks," Hashslinger chimed in. "Besides, from what Teresa said about him, he wasn't exactly a saint. Probably had it coming."

Florence sighed. "It's true. I mean, imagine being her. We treated Aris like dirt, just picture it reversed — she was stuck with them, surrounded by people who hated her just for existing. I bet they did much worse."

That shut everyone up for a moment. Even the wind seemed to quiet.

Rogue looked ahead to where Teresa walked alone, her head down, dark hair catching the light every so often. There was something fragile about her, like she was trying to fold herself smaller to keep from breaking.

Wally's voice broke the silence. "But what if she's lying? What if this whole thing's just some trick?"

Rogue thought about that for a moment, about how many times WICKED had lied before, how many times the ground had shifted under their feet. Then she shook her head. "Doesn't matter. Whether she's lying or not, the mission's the same. We have to find him. We have to end it."

Florence nodded, surprising her. "She's right. Doubt doesn't help anyone."

Rogue raised an eyebrow. Florence wasn't exactly the fighting type, usually the first to argue for peace. Maybe the losses were changing her too.

Hashslinger cracked her knuckles. "If it means saving the rest of us, I'll kill the boy myself. With my own bare hands."

Wally gave a weak laugh. "You? You'd probably faint first."

"Please," Hash said, grinning. "I'd faint after. From the thrill of victory."

Then Hash reached out and poked Wally in the arm. "Don't worry, though. I wouldn't let anything happen to you. I'd fight off a dozen Cranks before I let one touch that little klanked-up face of yours."

"Ha-ha," Wally said, rolling her eyes. "You're all heart, Hash."

Rogue looked down at her, saw the way Wally's smile lingered for a second too long, hopeful. Maybe she wanted Rogue to say it too, that she'd protect her no matter what. The words sat on Rogue's tongue, but she couldn't bring herself to speak them. She'd said that before. To Ada. And look how that had turned out.