𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 | Gally | BOOK 2

Chapter Nine

The sand continued to rip through the air and penetrate my eyes like bullets. My sweater was having a hard time blocking the frigid air and keeping me warm. I wasn't sure how much longer I would be able to continue, or if I should even bother moving forward.

When I was trapped in the hospital bed, I already knew that there was probably nothing waiting for me. Once I'd seen my friends I had a blip of hope. Maybe I'd been wrong. Maybe I could've found them and felt safer. Except they didn't see, or at least not all of them.

Thomas saw me and knew exactly who I was, I'm certain. He ignored me, pretend like I was the ghost of something he'd left behind. I couldn't even read the emotion on his face, it was barren much like the Scorch. Why didn't he say anything to the other boys? I didn't want to accept the fact that he didn't want me there, that he may have wanted me erased.

A horrible thought crept through the back of my mind and emerged to the surface, what if they all knew I was there with them. Perhaps Newt, Frypan, Winston and the other boys saw me or knew I was locked up in the facility, waiting to be harvest like all those other kids. Through the grief and treacherous pain I couldn't bring myself to believe that. They'd known me for so long, they wouldn't do something like that. Especially not Newt or Frypan. They would go back and save someone even if he were risking his own life. They're not selfish like that, none of them are. The only person that seemed reasonable enough to have done something like that was Thomas. I barely knew him, he was only in the Glade less than a week. Why should they all trust him and not the girl they'd known for years. The one that cared for them when they were ill or broke a bone and relied on me. I cared for each and every one of them, so why didn't they do anything?

But Minho was also there. He could have noticed me and knew that I hated him. He had no right to sit there amongst all of them. His grin sitting in that cafeteria stained my thoughts, his heart was beating, alive and well. Did he forget about what he'd done? The brother he had murdered? I wondered if he even thought about it, if it crossed his mind and ruined the rest of his day. I hoped it would fill the rest of his life with regret.

I wasn't familiar with his anger. But I didn't care. When that spear shot through Gally's chest, half of me died in that room with him. His face. I wanted to hold his soft cheeks one more time. I could still feel his cold skin, damped by sweat and tears when he was laying lifeless on that frozen floor. I craved his touch. His laugh followed me with every step, his smile imprinting itself in every memory I conjured up. In his last moments, Gally was there, not the creature that was holding the gun. He wasn't the thing that directed it right at Thomas and killed Chuck. Our little brother. That wasn't Gally, I continued to remind myself, it wasn't really him. He would never lay a finger on that boy.

A slope of more sand interrupted my wave fury and grief. My foot slipped and my arms flew outward, trying to latch onto something that wasn't there.  I didn't quite fall, but my foot sunk into a patch of sand kind of like a well. I tripped forward, and my hands met something rock hard. It was impossible to see, but I felt around it with my hands. The strange obstacle was at an angle leaning away from me. I continued feeling around it until I reached the edge. This slope wasn't natural. It was smooth and felt concrete. Another wall was facing the other direction, holding the higher one up on an angle, almost like a tent or cave. I felt around the bottom, they appeared to be deeply secured into the sand. In desperation to escape the wind, I crawled inside and propped my back up against one of the walls. From my exhaustion and anguish, I was completely weak. I hadn't stopped to think about how far I had actually traveled.

I ran my fingers through the soft sand underneath me and curled up my knees to my chin. The wind had been taken off of me, but I was still frozen cold inside. I didn't think that part would ever be able to thaw out. From my never ending aches and pains I had forgotten about my shoulder that stung. I weakly rubbed the area, hoping to subside the pain but it only grew. The thought of having some sort of injury there never crossed my mind. My thoughts were else where, stuck picturing memories of home, when everyone was alive and we were happy...or at least satisfied.

What I hadn't realised I should have been grateful for was the maze. It kept us locked in and away from the outside world, but it also kept us thinking. Every day was dedicated to survival and to making our escape. We actually had something to live for, something that kept us going. Ably always enforced that.

But now, there was nothing on the road ahead. I was staring out into absolute emptiness. There was nowhere, nothing and no one who I was looking for. I had no purpose. Escaping with the gladers, my companions, all in one piece was my purpose.

As I laid in that makeshift shelter, trapped deep in an ocean of darkness and grainy sand, I could not prevent my eyes from forcing themselves shut. There was nothing else for me. I needed this to be my last moment. Before I faded, I hoped that I was drifting into my final breath.