One Lucky Winner

Chapter 32 ~ Newt

Day 2
2:39 AM

We walk in silence, too scared to shout his name. It's right in the middle of the night, so I can barely see a thing. Thomas and I stumble along, cold and regretful. We hold on to each other like two old ladies walking home in the cold.

I sent Minho off to get water this afternoon, and he never came back. We sat and waited for him for a long time. We didn't want to go look for him right away, because we wanted to be here if he ever came back. Once the sun went down, we finally decided to look for him. We've been looking for hours, now. We've had absolutely no luck whatsoever.

I hate myself for letting him go alone. This entire thing is my fault. If I would've gone with him, he wouldn't be lost. We'd all still be alive and well. It's all my fault.

"What happens if we don't find him?" Thomas asks me, interrupting my thoughts.

"We're gonna find him," I say without thinking.

"What if he's dead?"

"We haven't heard a cannon."

"He could be laying somewhere suffering."

"Nah. Minho's tough."

"What if he's captured by someone else?"

"Chill out, Tommy," I say, looking at him. He's starting to make me doubt if Minho's alright. "Minho's fine."

Thomas seems to ignore me. "What if-"

"Whatever you're about to say, just stop. Minho is fine. He's alright, and we're gonna find him tonight," I snap at Thomas. He looks to the ground, and I suddenly feel bad. He just needed someone to tell him that everything will work out.

"Sorry," I mumble. "We're gonna find him."

He doesn't reply.

Twenty minutes or so have passed, and we've had no luck.

"We should start calling his name," Thomas finally says. "We're not getting anywhere without saying anything."

"Someone will hear," I say.

"He won't know we're looking for him if we don't call his name," Thomas says. I don't answer. I don't want to yell out Minho's name, but he does have a point.

"MINHO!" Thomas screams. "WHERE ARE YOU?"

"Not so loud," I tell him. He ignores me and keeps yelling.

This goes on for a good long while. I'm starting to get restless about Minho now. Where the hell is he? We should've have found him by now. I want to go to bed. I'm bloody tired. But, at the same time, I keep telling myself I won't go to bed until Minho is safe.

After walking in silence for a few minutes, Thomas sparks conversation again.

"I'm cold," Thomas says.

"Aren't we all?"

"What if Minho is out there freezing?"

"Thomas," I warn him. I'm not putting up with his negativity. "We'll find him. I already told you."

"Yeah, well that's what you said hours ago."

I don't answer him. As the minutes pass by, my faith in finding Minho is slowly disappearing. I'm getting really tired of walking around and looking for him. We trudge along, getting slower by the seconds.

"Can we take a break?" Thomas asks me.

"Yeah," I sit down right where I was standing and put my head in my hands. I'm tired of this.