ADRONITIS (II) : tmr minho

43: I could be Choking

Michelle 43

It's late again, and I'm sitting outside on the ground. Thomas is silent tonight. Every night, I've heard him groaning at least once or twice. Now there is no sound. I can't be mad anymore, though I know I still hate him for what happened to Gally. Maybe I hate him so I don't have to hate myself. After all, it's not just his fault Gally left. Even before he was here, Gally was crazy.

I'm sitting on the back porch, even though it is getting later. I just can't be in there with those boys anymore. Everywhere seems to remind me of Gally and Dave.

I never thought I would say I miss the sun, but I do. Hot days out in the Glade were more fun then I care to admit. At least, they were the closest thing to fun that happens here. Of course, there isn't really a lot of things that aren't awful. I'll miss building.

Now, we have nothing left to board up the walls at night. The fences are all destroyed, as well as all the sheds. Even the Bloodhouse is being ripped apart, inch by inch. Soon, there will be nothing left here. Eventually, we are going to have to try and cram ourselves all in the Slammer. It'll be easier with every passing night.

I move over to the structure, peeking inside. Thomas lies on the floor. He is shaking. They put him in here maybe ten minutes ago. He looks cold. I'm surprised they don't have a Med-jack stay with him all night. Even that Teresa chick, who is more annoying than anything, could help him out in here.

There is a crash behind me. My body lags, but I force myself to spin around. Jackson bursts out the door to the back of the Homestead with a few boys in tow. He looks at me and nearly grins at my sight. "Hey, Michelle."

His voice is way too happy for Jackson. Last time I saw him smile, he was waving a knife in my face. I may have forgiven Doug, but I am not too keen on letting Jackson slide.

He looks sick, but we all do too. As far as I can tell, half the Glade went without dinner. Today, we had the luxury of lunch. Maybe Jackson wasn't allowed to eat since he almost started the riot yesterday. I wouldn't put that ban past Alby.

The palling boy moves behind me, his shoulder inches from my head, as he peers into the shed behind my head. "He's sleeping in there alright."

I don't recognize most of the boys with him. In total there are five, one of whom is Dan. I guess the IQ of the group is relatively low then.

"Do you know where Leo might be?" He asks, turning around to face me.

I don't answer him, keeping my feet still and steady. Honestly, there are only a few places she normally is, and if she isn't there then she doesn't want to be found. Besides, it's not like I trust Jackson. I know what he is capable of, and if he wants to find her (for whatever reason), he isn't getting her.

Jackson grabs my shoulders, slamming me into the concrete wall behind me. "Where is she?"

My shoulders ache. "Bite me."

He grabs me, throwing me to the ground. I slide across the dirt, my face landing in the muck. No one else moves. I guess he is here for a fight.

I pull myself up off the ground. He shakes the door to the Slammer, before ramming his fist against the side of the wall. His hand bleeds where the concrete rips open his skin. He quickly turns to face me, shaking his bloody fingers in my direction.

"Grab her," he instructs.

The boys look amongst themselves. They nudge Dan forward. He looks around, before running at me.

Klunk.

I run. Spinning around, I head for the Kitchen. I don't exactly know what I'm planning to do. The Kitchen won't lock, as far as I can tell the Slammer is the only place with a key in the whole place. I quickly burst through the door, with Dan trailing a dozen feet behind me.