Conflicted

chapter 11

They came early in the morning. We were just settling down to sleep for the day because we were traveling all night. I was scared. What were they doing? No questions, just business. They took him. They took Thomas.

-

I don't remember falling asleep, I was too worried about what they were doing to Thomas. The Berg came out of nowhere, the giant thrusters blowing up dust as they landed. Workers, I assumed for WICKED, came out of the opening with their yellow hazmat suits. They took Thomas from us, and it took three Gladers to hold Minho back from ripping their heads off. Newt was just too startled to do anything, as was I. The whole ordeal took maybe five minutes tops, but it seemed like everything was going in slow motion.

I woke up in Newt's arms, my head laying on his chest. I felt his heart beating, and his body warmth felt calmed my nerves. I pushed myself up into sitting position, only to feel a sharp pain in my neck. My hand shot up to the place where it hurt, almost on instinct. It felt as if someone had burned something into my skin. I pushed my hair away and twisted around to see the side of my neck.

It was a tattoo.

It read, "Subject Z13 The Breaker". The Breaker? What the hell did that mean? I had seen these tattoos on the Gladers, Newt's had been "Subject A5 The Glue" and Minho's said "Subject A7 The Leader." I wasn't too shocked it was a tattoo, but more at the fact that I had gotten one. I wasn't a part of WICKED's trials, was I?

I quickly flipped my hair back over the tattoo. I didn't want the others to see; they would probably become suspicious. Not that they already weren't - I could feel hostility radiating off Minho - but getting a tattoo like theirs would make me seem even less trustworthy. Plus, some of the Gladers had started stirring from their sleep.

We had settled in an old, beat up wooden shack that looked like it might've been a small store or something of the sorts. They floor had been washed over with hard-packed dirt, but the walls and part of the ceiling was still intact. We spent the whole day lounging around in the little shade that the beat-up building offered. It was a silently unanimous desicion that we weren't going anywhere without Thomas.

-

It was getting dark again. We had spent the whole day waiting anxiously for Thomas' return. They would bring him back, right? I could see the anxiety in the Glader's eyes, and even some slight concern from Jorge. It must've shown in my eyes too, because Newt came over and sat next to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and giving a slight squeeze.

"He'll come back," Newt said. But I could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

"What if he doesn't?" I said. It came out as a high pitched squeak, making me sound more concerned than I wanted it to.

"He bloody will, I know it," Newt grumbled, almost to himself.

I sighed and slumped against the wall. There was a sudden flash of movement, and Newt was in front of me instead of next to me.

"Bloody listen to me, Brenda. Tommy will come back, he has too. We'll track him down if he doesn't," Newt said, a new kind of fierceness in his voice.

I felt my mouth twitch up a little. He was trying so hard to lift my spirits, and I appreciated it.

"Plus," he added softly, "you've got me."

And his lips brushed mine, soft and sweet. He kissed me.

And I kissed back.