SOJOURNER (III): tmr gally

We should prepare for what's next

Leo Short

"You ready?" Newt asks.

I pack away the rest of the supplies, putting the only vial of sedative I have in my bag. Beth is awake, she has been since yesterday, but she still makes me nervous. This time, I don't load the vial preemptively, though it was useful last time. It's a hassle to have what is essentially a loaded gun in your pocket.

"I was born ready to get out of here," Dawn whoops over Newt's shoulder. I can't help the smile that erupts on my face.

"Yeah, I am in desperate need of a facial," Minho's voice goes up an octave, and he moves his head in a way that is quintessentially Dawn.

She laughs, shoves him forward.

"What, my burns are so bad!" Minho continues. "I was set on fire if you've forgotten."

Newt offers me a hand and helps me up as the other two walk away. They continue to bicker, beginning our descent down the mountain.

We slept in, but we should still be at the safe haven by 6:00 tomorrow. It's only a short walk down the rest of the way. If we wanted to, we could probably sleep in much longer than we currently have. Exhaustion pins everyone to the ground.

"Hey, Leo," Sheil jogs over to us. He glances at Newt then back at me. "Can we have a minute?"

I remember Michelle's comments yesterday about Lott and decide to hold my ground. "What is it?"

"I had a break through last night," Sheil admits. "I think we can find our pairs based off our subject numbers. Do you know what yours are?"

I shake my head, even though I remember clearly.

"Let me look," he suggests, moving closer to me. He tries to lift my ponytail, but Newt smacks his hand away.

"Can't you see she's uncomfortable?" Newt asks, his voice climbing.

Sheil backs away, a frown on his face. He actually looks upset. Though I don't have a bad feeling about him, Michelle's intuition is always more accurate than mine.

Before Newt can ask me what is wrong, I begin to move away. He follows me as we move towards the rest of the group, which is slowly making its way out of the camp. The crowd provides me some peace in the space between us all. Sheil and Lott follow far behind. I let myself take the moment to tuck the oily strands of hair behind my ear. Newt tries to grab my hand as we begin our descent, but I pull away.

He flinches, stepping back. "Can we talk?"

I peer at those around us. Their eyes land on his hand, listening to his words. The night is so quiet that every sound is magnified. I can't handle their stares, so I nod, stepping aside to let the rest of this large group step forward. They pass by, until Newt and I are alone.

"I don't need you fighting my battles," I mutter, though I am thankful for his interfering. I wouldn't have had it in my heart to upset Sheil like that, especially when we are sort of becoming friends again. Even though I doubt that Newt had any idea what was going on between us, he still stepped in. Without a question, he was by my side.

"What was that about?" Newt asks, glancing back over. "I thought you and Sheil were fine."

"Michelle had a weird feeling last night," I offer, beginning to walk forward. We can't get too far behind from everyone else, or we will be lost to the Scorch. "She said not to tell them our subject numbers."