Mended [Book Two] COMPLETED

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"No!" Charlotte cried and ran over to the boy. His breathing was incredibly fast, and his eyes were half open. She ripped off her top to only be in her tank top and balled it up. She ripped it in half, balling up each one.

Charlotte stuck the first ball into Thomas's mouth, and he groaned in response. The second, she rammed into the bullet wound on his shoulder, which had blood squirting out out of it and dripping down the sides of his shirt. He screamed out powerfully, and she said, "I know, I'm sorry. But I'm not letting you die." She pressed down even harder, making him scream louder into the cloth.

Blood was coating the second shirt and she yelled, "I need more! It's soaking up too fast!" Newt quickly rummaged through the backpacks and handed her another shirt. "Go get me alcohol from that place." She commanded. "What?" Newt questioned. "It's going to get infected! Now go!"

Blood was soaking the cloth now, and she had to change shirts, but was forced to wait for Newt. These shirts were slathered with blood, sweat, and dirt, and would instantly infect his wound more then it is already is, considering just how rusty the pistol looked. The bullets must've been ages old.

Newt ran over to her, handing her two large bottles of pure alcohol. She muttered a thank you and went to work. She peeled the shirt off of the wound, making Thomas whimper.

"I'm sorry for what I'm about to do, Tommy." She announced, then twisted the cap off and poured it directly to the wound. He howled in pain, arching his back and pounding his fists on the floor in complete agony.

"Please pass out, please pass out, to please pass out." She muttered. Then, he finally did. She sighed in relief. "How bad is it?" Minho asked, standing over her.

"I wasn't a Med-Jack, I don't know." She said, then wrapped the shirt tightly around his arm and wound. "Where's Clint?"

Everybody looked down. "Didn't make it." Was all Minho said. They had now lost both of their Med-Jacks, and she didn't know what to do. "Well, wasn't Chuck training to be a Med-Jack right before we left? Shouldn't he know a thing or two?"

Silence.

+

The gladers finally stopped when dusk hit the horizon. Minho and Frypan gently set down Thomas, who was still unconscious. They had been carrying him for hours now, dragging him along with them. Everyone was exhausted and food was scarce. Water was even worse.

Charlotte braided her hair back with the help of Brenda and grabbed her backpack, throwing it over her shoulder. She also got a knife out of her belt and began to stalk off from the temporary camp they had set up.

"Charlotte." Newt called, jogging to get to her. She turned around with a questioning look. "Where are you going?" "I was just gonna look around, try to find some food." He sighed. "Love, you have a broken wrist, I'm afraid you can't be of much help." "My legs are fine," She rolled her eyes and kept on walking. The boy stared at her as she went.

Charlotte examined the place where they were. They had finally gotten out of the city and over the first mountain out of many. Now they were on flat ground, with rocks that looked like they would crumble at the slightest touch and an abandoned shack that looked like it would fall down if a feather hit it. She decided to check out the shack first.

It was a ten minute walk, and she was getting tired by the time she got there. Just injured is all, just need some sleep. You're fine. She stepped into the shack, dust clouding around her feet. It was one room, and directly in the middle laid one singular cardboard box.

She walked over to it, plopping down to the floor next to it. With her good hand, she picked up the flap and threw it over to reveal what was inside. Cans of food were stacked up neatly, rows of four by six, all the way to the brim of the box. She smiled in delight and began to drag it out of the shack and over to the gladers.