the end of beginning, thomas

vii, inhumane terror

Leaning against a crumbling concrete wall, while picking at the grains of sand under her nails, Melanie listened to the sounds of a muffled argument coming from a few feet away. She dreaded having to walk through a desert with them, rather chewing her own foot off than walking through scorching heat with a bunch of hormonal teenage boys and a temperamental teenage girl.

"Hey guys, check this out", Winston called as he spotted something in the distance. Dusting herself off with a huff, Melanie followed his voice until she ended up joining the group again. Minho used his torch to reveal footprints in the sand. "Someone's been down here", they concluded, examining the marks amongst the sand. It almost unnerved Melanie, the thought of something or someone watching her from the shadows.

Using her own light to guide her, Melanie used the prints to lead her further into the shopping centre. Her eyes scanned the area vigorously, making sure she wouldn't trip over a piece of debris or rumble amongst the loose sand.

"Melanie, Melanie! Come back.", Thomas hissed, trying to stop the girl from wandering off by herself into danger. She ignored him, picking up her pace and soon enough, the rest begrudgingly strolled after her.

The light was the only thing that revealed the fact that life once lived down there. Bottles of water and pieces of clothing were visible behind a metal gate. The boys lifted it, enabling Melanie to pass through. She continued to lead the group, her natural instincts taking stage.

"Looks like people lived here", Minho stated obviously. Melanie scoffed, earning herself a glare from the keeper of the runner. Newt wondered where they could've been as he pulled torn cloth from a crate. The place gave Melanie the creeps, painful shivers running up her spine; the maze, her girls and her felt very small compared to everything else in the world.

Thomas, after finding a blue, dirty jacket, told the rest to pack up the stuff for the journey. The rest followed suit, fumbling through clothes to find ones that would fit them. The suggestion for splitting up was meant to with nothing but nods of approval. Separating from the others slightly, Melanie began to rummage through a pile of clothes. Her search resulted in her finding a sweatshirt. It looked slightly big, the end frayed slightly but otherwise still intact. She slipped the cotton jumper over her head, surprised at how soft it felt, in spite of its obvious wear and tear.

She continued on, finding a piece of broken elastic and tying her dark hair up in a short ponytail. Flyaways fell in front of her face, while the rest resembled a rats nest than actual hair. She grumbled, tucking the loose pieces behind her ears and continuing on her search.

Eventually she produced a pair of warmer trousers and pulled them on over the thin leggings wicked gave her. The army green was practically brown with the sand and dirt. She didn't really care, finding the function better than the style.

At the sound of light footsteps, Melanie found her brother strolling toward her. They exchanged a small smile, nothing else manageable at the present. While he rummaged through the pile, she crouched down rolling the ankles of the trousers to prevent herself from tripping.