THREE

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03 ; TRUCE

03 ; TRUCE

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Dot grimaced as yet another wave of sand washed over her, the grains like needles being driven into her body. The run from the compound was slow and tedious, the wind pushing them back with every step they took and sand filling their mouths with every breath. Dot had no idea where she was going, blindly following the shadows of the night in hopes they were other members of the group.

She came upon a sand dune, squinting to see the others already climbing up it. She followed, with every step her foot sank deeper into the ground, sand filling her shoes and weighing her down. The sand shifted and she almost fell. God, I hate the desert. Dot made it to the top, stumbling blindly until a hand grabbed her own. Newt beckoned her with his head followed by a tug on her hand, and Dot thanked her lucky stars that someone knew where they were going.

A flicker of lights in the corner of her eye along with a deep rumble beneath the roaring of the wind briefly caught Dot's attention. She halted, stopping Newt with her, and glanced back the way they'd come. The entrance to the compound had been opened and out flooded a sea of guards, each with a flashlight and gun, some on the backs of trucks and motorcycles. The hunters had made it out to chase their prey. Exchanging a fearful look with Newt, they both communicated one word: run.

It didn't take them long to catch up to the others now that their strides held more determination. Correction: desperation. Their companions had paused, much to Dot's dismay, and she was ready to yell at them to move their asses because they did not have time to take a break. Then she saw it: their route to escape. Hidden beneath the sand was a shattered window, darkness beyond. The girl they'd rescued took the leap, stepping through the broken glass and disappearing from view, Thomas not far behind her.

The rest filtered through slowly, Dot glancing back every few seconds out of paranoia, but then only she remained. With one last look for signs of pursuit, Dot stepped into the darkness. She stumbled down the sand dune, ground giving way under her shoes, when her forehead suddenly connected with someone's shoulder blade.

"Ow," Dot muttered, rubbing her forehead, then she glanced at Frypan with an apologetic grimace: "Sorry."

Still massaging her forehead, Dot took in their new surroundings. It was dark, barely any light streaming in through the cracked and shattered windows behind them. From what she could tell in the darkness it was large space they'd entered, but there wasn't much to see: broken furniture, broken appliances... broken everything. What kind of world are we living in?

"Come on, we've got to go!" Thomas' order distracted Dot's attention away from the unfamiliar setting to her already becoming familiar group of companions. Thomas was already taking steps further into the mysterious building but the rest seemed reluctant to follow.

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