Little (T.S.T) + (T.D.C)

●13●

Chapter 13:
>Well, aren't you a creepy
old man?<
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Once she looked at her arm, Darcy felt like vomiting. In fact, she did throw up a little in her mouth.

Her arm looked horrible. It looked much worse than how she remembered Winston's stomach. Like someone had taken a bite out of it, which was pretty much what happened. A large chunk of skin was missing, dark blood surrounding the dent. The veins around her arm looked an inky black colour; her arm looked more like raw meat than her own flesh.

She quickly snapped her eyes to Jorge, her face scrunched up in disgust. "Never mind. You can put the cloth back on."

He gave her a small smile and proceeded to wrap her arm in the cloth once again.

■■■

Darcy didn't get much sleep that night. Newt, Fry, Teresa and Aris bombarded her with questions regarding how she was in the morning, but she just waved them off, telling them she was fine.

They still set off the next day. Jorge informed them that he had a friend called Marcus who could lead them to the Right Arm. That's where he said Brenda would be; looking for Marcus.

They once again continued their journey through the Scorch. Darcy kept getting asked if she was alright, and she could feel the glances she kept getting. They were acting like she was going to drop dead at any moment. She hated it. She had always hated feeling weak. She was always presumed weak in the Square because she was the youngest. She wasn't even that much younger, only by about 3 or 4 years.

"Darcy, are you sure you're alright?" asked Teresa for what seemed to Darcy like the tenth time that day.

"Yes! I'm sure I'm fine," she snapped. Everyone turned to look at her. "I'm perfectly fine and dandy except for the fact that you lot are treating me like an old lady who is about to drop dead at any second!"

Silence met her outburst as everyone stared at her with eyes full of many different emotions.

"Darcy, we were just--" began Newt.

"I don't want to hear excuses. I just want to stop being asked how I'm doing every three seconds. Please."

She saw Minho mutter under his breath, but just glared at him. She sighed and continued walking with the others and, thankfully, wasn't asked any more questions.

■■■

When they finally reached their destination, Jorge stopped and turned. They were at a small street. However, here there was no sand blowing about everywhere, and the wind had calmed. But just like everywhere else, broken buildings were scattered throughout, except these buildings were occupied. People lined the street, chattering in hushed tones and drinking, a dark look in each eye that could be seen.

Jorge brought them around to a back door of one of the buildings where loud music could be heard from the inside. "Alright, hermanas. Best way to do this is to split up. Three groups of two. I guarantee you that Brenda and Thomas will be in there," he said, jerking his thumb towards the door.

"There's seven of us," Darcy said, keeping her eyes on the ground. The people on the street unnerved her; their eyes looked blank, their posture slack.