My True Pack.

Chapter 11

Third Person's Point of View.

Thomas's Dream.

"Stop!" Newt yelled. "Stop the van! Now!"

"What?" Lawrence replied. "What're you talking about?"

"Just stop the freaking van!"

Lawrence slammed on the brakes as Newt scrambled to his feet and went for the door. He started to open it when Lawrence grabbed his shirt from behind and yanked him backward.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" The man yelled at him.

Newt wouldn't let anything stop him now. He yanked the gun out of his pants and pointed it at
Lawrence. "Let go of me. Let go of me!"

Lawrence did, throwing his hands up in the air. "Whoa, kid. Calm down! What is wrong with you?"

Newt backed away from him. "I saw my friend out there-I want to see if he's okay. If any trouble
starts, I'll run back to the van. Just be ready to get us out of here when I do."

"You think that thing out there is still your friend?" The pilot asked coldly. "Those Cranks are way past the Gone. Can't you see that? Your friend is nothing but an animal now. Worse than an animal."

"Then it'll be a short goodbye, won't it," Newt answered. He opened the door, then backed out onto the street. "Cover me if I need it. I have to do this."

"I'm gonna kick your butt before we get on that Berg, I can promise you that," Lawrence growled. "Hurry. If those Cranks by the garbage heap head this way, we start firing. I don't care if your mommy and uncle Frank are out there."

"Good that." Newt turned away from them, slipping the pistol back into his jeans. He walked slowly toward his friend, who stood alone, far away from the pack of Cranks still working on their pile of refuse.

For the moment they seemed satisfied with that-they didn't seem interested in him.

Newt walked half the distance to Thomas, then stopped. The worst part about his friend was the
wildness in his eyes. Madness lurked behind them, two festering pools of sickness. How had it happened so quickly?

"Hey. Thomas. It's me, Newt. You still remember me, right?"

A sudden clarity filled Thomas's eyes then, almost making Newt step back in surprise.

"I freaking remember you, Newt. You just came to see me at the Palace, rubbed it in that you ignored
my note. I can't go completely crazy in a few days."

Those words hurt Newt's heart even more than the pitiful sight of his friend. "Then why are you
here? Why are you with ... them?"

Thomas looked at the Cranks, then back at Newt. "It comes and goes, man. I can't explain it. Sometimes I can't control myself, barely know what I'm doing. But usually it's just like an itch in my brain, throwing everything off-kilter just enough to bother me-make me angry."

"You seem fine right now."

"Yeah, well. The only reason I'm with these wackers from the Palace is because I don't know what else to do. They're fighting, but they're also a group. You find yourself alone, you don't have a freaking chance."

"Thomas, come with me this time, right now. We can take you somewhere safer, somewhere better to ..."

Thomas laughed, and when he did his head twitched strangely a couple of times. "Get out of here, Newt. Get away."