SOJOURNER (III): tmr gally

11: I should prepare for the boom

Michelle 11

It's butt-shucking early when we wake up and begin moving again. Last night we got lucky with a full six hours. Rose kicks me awake when she walks by, unaware that my eyes have been peeled open since our shift ended. Rose looks at me while I sit up, expecting me to come talk to her. Rolling my eyes, I move over to Teresa, who is packing up her stuff.

"I get why you did it," my voice is low.

She looks up at me, from the backpack she now carries. She got to take the one from the girl whose ankle is shucked. Maybe it was to alleviate the girl from its burden, but I get the feeling its because Teresa wants the supplies and expects the girl to die in the Scorch.

With a damaged leg, there isn't much else to expect.

"Did what?"

"Ditched the medication," I tell her. "I'm good at telling when people are lying. WICKED didn't make you."

Teresa shrugs, tossing her backpack over her shoulder. She crosses her arms over her chest when she is standing up. She is just slightly taller than I am, which isn't really a point in her favour since I'm the shortest shank around.

"I'd have done it too," I tell her, ignoring her defensive stance. "If WICKED doesn't want him alive, I'm not getting in their way. Besides, we have a mission. I'm not jeopardizing all of our lives for one kid, who's probably died already."

She nods slowly, her foot tapping against the ground. "You make sense, Michelle," she tells me as if that's new information. "All these idiots around here are driving me crazy."

"Can't blame you for that," I mumble.

She chuckles, before stepping away from me, she moves over to address the others, as they continue to pack. "Are we moving or what? We are only a few hours out from the city."

A couple people groan, but soon they are filing out of the hole we came through. I end up moving along with Teresa near the front of the ground. We take step after step, moving forward and forward. Every so often I shine my light up at the ceiling to look for an new exit. The places we sleep, holes in the walls big enough for all of us, appear about every six to seven hours we walk. So far, we've past three. The pathways up to the ceiling, as far as I've noticed, are spread apart by an hour's walk or so. I couldn't tell you how far we walk every hour. It really depends on how people are moving. This morning, it's closer to a shuffle than it is to a run.

We past another hole in the ceiling, leading up to the surface, and I can't help but feel a clench in my stomach. I like the dark. It's all encompassing, and if I close my eyes there is no difference. After the Glade, I need this walk to clear my mind. It's been so full lately that I haven't been able to sleep without seeing all the faces of the dead flying through my head. You can still see the dead in the dark, unfortunately.

We walk another hour, pass another hole. Still no breaks. Leo is at the back, trying to tend to the girl's broken ankle while we walk. I can hear the chick sniffling. It's definitely broken, but I don't get why she is sniffling. Does she expect us to wait? Today is our third day out, which means eleven days to go. Who knows how close we are?

The ground above us rumbles.

"What the stuck was that?" Rose asks from beside me.

I don't know.

It shakes above us again, the dirt and the ground shifting.

"Harriet," a girl further down the line calls. Her voice is edging with panic.

Harriet continues forward, though Teresa stops with me. There is another loud crash, and the ground rumbles. Dirt begins to fall off the ceiling.

"There's a hole a bit back," I yell out. I reach for my pocket, and for the hammer I got back from Dawn. Rose is the only one who hears me, as the voices in the tunnel rise. "We need to get to the surface."