SOJOURNER (III): tmr gally

18: I should be with her

Dawn 18

There is dust blowing between the buildings, and the town seems to be silent. In the bright sun, I can feel my cheeks heating up. It can't be any later than 9:00 AM, and already, the sun is too hot for me. I have my jean jacket around my waist. The damage the sun is doing can't be much compared to the weight it adds to me. And the heat it swallows me in.

"You're sure you don't want my jacket?" Minho asks next to me. "It's thinner."

"You'll burn up," Newt chides. "Seriously. You should've seen Wyck. He wouldn't stay under the tarp since it was too hot, and his skin peeled off in layers. It was nasty."

I roll my eyes, backing up until I'm in the shade of the building. "There," I offer, gesturing around me. "Happy?"

Newt and Minho exchange a glance, a raised eyebrow and a smirk, but say nothing to me. I guess nothing has changed in the time I've been gone. At least, not between them.

"How much longer until we reconvene?" I ask, glancing up at the sky. The sun swallows us whole.

Newt shrugs, before looking down at his watch. "Like, fifteen minutes."

We aren't going to find Thomas, at least I doubt it. Looking for him is like looking for a needle in a haystack. For all we know, he's already heading to the mountains. The leader guy, Jorge, insists that this Brenda chick wouldn't have died. She must be keeping him safe, or so he says. Honestly, I couldn't tell you what I think or believe. Nothing makes sense anymore.

"I'm sure he'll meet us up in the Safe-Haven," I tell them. "I doubt the Creators would let him die this early on."

"Why?" Minho asks, looking me over. "You think he's special?"

"Of course he bloody is," Newt jumps in. He looks around the corner outside the aisle, glancing around. Satisfied, he turns back to us. "Why else would they only be trying to kill him?"

There's a chuckle to his voice, and his eyes are soft. Minho scratches the back of his neck, before he yawns. I can't help but smile. Even here, we can find a few seconds of calm. Amidst all this chaos.

We're done checking our section, which means we've got a minute or two to kill before we are supposed to head back. This is the first time I've been with either of them without the rest of the group in hours. Well, I guess maybe months. It's not often I'm alone with anyone anymore.

"It's better he's disappeared then," I remark, casting a glance down the alley. "Those girls can track us easier than they can track one shank. With him gone he's safer."

Minho and Newt nod, distracted. Both are looking down the alley, out into the sand. I listen for a second, a hear nothing. Neither of them looks serious, but there is something in the air that I don't like. It doesn't sit well on my tongue.

"You trust the new boys?" I ask, trying to make conversation. I guess, maybe I am actually curious. They didn't say much of anything to me yesterday.

Minho cracks his neck, leaning off the wall behind him and stepping farther away from me. "Newt does, for some reason."

"They're fine," Newt rolls his eyes, before glancing back at me. He bites his lip for a second, then shrugs his shoulders. "He's just paranoid."

"I don't like that Jay guy," Minho remarks. He scrunches his nose up and wipes the sweat off his forehead. With his free hand, he plays with the "He's a pompous slinthead, who only speaks to correct me."