CHAPTER 27:
The Glade was tired and it was easy to see that they were all waiting for the Greenie's arrival that eventually led to the party they all looked forward to. Adira herself was exhausted, not only with physical labour but emotionally too, tending to Frypan's boisterous cries and Kasper's quiet sniffles as the meaning of their third year washed over them.
Throwing down a pile of logs at Gally's feet, she took her leave, nodding in farewell to the Keeper who'd been slightly more amiable than usual, probably feeling he'd gotten revenge when he'd left her stranded on the tree. Why he hated her, she did not know, but she didn't entertain any ideas of conspiracy or thoughtless hatred- she barely had time to do so and she knew better than assuming Gally would raise a riot against her. Maybe in the past, when things had been hot and fresh, but now? Not so much.
"Tired eh?" Newt asked, peering out from under his fringe to observe her face the moment she had stepped up beside him.
She grunted in the affirmative and he nodded, "Can't say I'm any different, Ad."
"I can't wait till the Greenie comes up." she sighed, feeling selfish, "My entire body is running on autopilot right now."
"Same here." Newt murmured, "I can't wait to get out of this bloody mud."
She grimaced at the brown viscous liquid coating his feet, "I think you're due for a shower."
He looked down in disgust, "I think so too, love."
She nodded, "Off you go. Can't meet the Greenie like that and then scare him off."
Newt glared at her before going to the boys' showers, leaving a trail of mud behind him that she knew would irritate the Sloppers. She finished off Newt's work for him, tidying away all the equipment he had used while working.
The equipment shed was cool and the shade offered respite from the burning heat of the sun and she leant against the shelf, breathing in the slightly damp air. Pushing her hair back into a ponytail, she paused as she heard footsteps descending into the room. The steps leading down into the room were narrow, as was the room itself and she had to wait until the person walked into the room so she could shimmy out.
"Hello?" a questioning voice called out in the dim light of the room, detecting her movement.
"Oh, hey Nico." she greeted, "What're you up to?"
He shrugged, "Nothing much, came to grab a few tools and things for Gally."
She nodded in understanding, "Well, I'm off now."
Nico waved in farewell, making way for her to exit the small room and she slid past him so they were opposite each other near the entrance. She pulled her leg forward to leave, but her other leg stuck fast against a random box and she tripped, slamming the door shut and effectively locking the two of them in a dimly lit, locked room.
"Shucks." she cursed, as Nico helped her up, his face light hearted despite the situation. It was alright for him, she supposed, but she did not like tight spaces and she swallowed the rising panic down.
"It's okay." Nico said reasonably as if it would make her feel better, "Gally will figure out I'm missing."
She coughed as the dust thickened in the air, "We both know Gally's a scatterbrain. He forgets his own shuck name half the time."
Nico shrugged, clearly not used enough to her pessimistic nature and she sighed, wanting him to feel at ease. Despite what his muscled build had to say, he was a mild boy with not one violent bone in his body and he'd always treated her with respect and kindness. She knew better than anyone who Nico really was.
"Someone will figure it out." she supplied consolingly and Nico gave her a smile in return for her attempt to coincide with his naturally optimistic nature.
"That they will." Nico said, sitting down in front of her, not noticing the slight tensing of her muscles as his knees touched hers.
"Wanna play a game?" he asked and she bit out a yes, controlling her breathing in a methodical way.
"Twenty one questions." Nico said, and she could vaguely remember the name of the game along with a childish feeling of shallow excitement, "We'll play that."
"Sure." she shrugged, her fingers latching onto her collarbone as she ran them along the skin- a habit that calmed her down in extremely stressful situations. She couldn't deny she was looking forward to the game though.
"My turn first." Nico grinned, "We'll do it this way- I ask a question, you answer, then you ask a question."
"Okay, sounds good." she nodded, injecting enthusiasm into her voice. It wasn't that she didn't want to play the game, but she physically couldn't stop the anxiety growing in her throat as she craved the open air of the Glade and not the damp oppressive cupboard must. Still, better Nico than Gal pal himself.
"Me first." Nico said excitedly, "What's your favourite colour?"
She laughed, partly in an attempt to rid herself of her growing nervous energy and partly because she was genuinely amused by his simple question.
"I don't know." she said, "Maybe golden brown?"
He frowned, "That's so oddly specific."
She gave him a tight smile in response, knowing exactly what she was referring to. Or rather, who. She had always loved his eyes in the sunlight.
"Well, what about you? What's your favourite colour?" she asked, her leg jogging up and down slightly. Nico was oblivious.
"Green." he replied decisively, "I like the green in the Gardens."
She pondered his words carefully, "Funny. Your eyes are green too."
There seemed to be a running theme in their answers.
"Next question." Nico said, "How long did it take for you to remember your name?"
She bit her lip, thinking, "A couple of hours, I'd say. Not a day, but nearly."
Nico's eyebrows shot up in surprise, "That's still long."
She shrugged, "You?"
"In the Box." Nico said shortly, his face turning into a grimace. It had been only a year and a bit since he'd stepped into the Maze and the terror of hurtling up the Box still hadn't quite worn off fully. The wound it had left was deep. She remembered pulling him out of the Box. She remembered seeing him asleep in the Box. He had actually passed out from fear, not fell asleep as Newt had originally thought.
She whistled lowly in appreciation, "Probably the quickest then."
Nico smiled in pride and the game continued for hours and hours, till they'd run out of anything interesting to ask and resorted to aimlessly staring at random tools. She suppressed her anxiety, indirectly helped by Nico who stayed completely still, like a statue.
"Is anyone going to come?" Nico muttered under his breath.
"I'm insulted." she ground out, "I thought they'd at least notice me gone."
"Wow." Nico chuckled, "Way to make a guy feel loved."
She opened her mouth to reply, but choked on the dry dust that had steadily been collecting in her throat, coughing as she tried to rid the irritation. Nico's eyes widened as the coughs did not subside and he leaned forward, while looking at the door where voices and footsteps were audible. He fell right on top of her, punching out all the air in her lungs and leaving her body tenser than ever.
Groaning slightly, he squinted as the door opened and let in a shallow beam of light, illuminating her pained, panicked face and Nico's figure sprawled beside her on the floor.
"I bloody told you!" she heard a voice groan, "Get out you two!"
It was Newt, his amused face quickly turning into one of concern as he registered the panic in her eyes and the narrow, claustrophobic room. He retreated out of the face of the door to let Nico through and she staggered to her feet, regaining her composure and coming out of the door to the bottom of the staircase where she was immediately met with Newt's chest. Tilting her head up, she blew out a breath of relief as he noticed her want for space.
"I'm bloody sorry I didn't notice." Newt sighed, "I was looking everywhere for ya and I just couldn't find ya anywhere. And then I remembered the store cupboard, thought I'd give it a try."
She shrugged, glad to feel fresh air revive her musty, achy body, "That was not fun."
"I bet it wasn't." Newt agreed, giving her a sympathetic glance, "But good news, Greenie's on his way up."
She then registered the high pitched ringing that was issuing from the Box and her lips curved downwards, "Let's welcome the shank."
They walked towards the Box before she placed a hand on his bicep, slowing him. Leaning towards his ear she asked quietly, "Ben?"
He'd been stung, and his progress through recovery was not looking good. Clint had looked harassed the last time she'd asked for an update and she intended to give the Keeper some breathing time especially since it hadn't been long since Tristan had passed away in his hands.
Newt shook his hand, "Screaming bloody murder, what d'ya expect? Clint ain't looking happy."
She sighed pulling him forward to the Box again, hoping internally, that Ben would live.
The boys had formed their customary crowd around the Box and she checked for Minho before realising that the Doors were still wide open and it wasn't as late as she thought it was. Being locked in a dark room really did mess up a person's perspective of time.
"Any shucking second now." Newt muttered, his foot tapping impatiently, "3…2…1…"
On cue, the Box slammed against the lid and the boys were excitedly throwing back the lid of the Box, screaming insulting greetings at the likely overwhelmed Greenie. Newt grinned at her and she grinned back as she knelt down close to the entrance of the Box, looking down at the Greenie, who was concealed by the dark shadow the lid cast over his face.
"Welcome to Hell."
Newt jumped down, laughing at her dramatic welcome, not noticing the sudden confusion that lanced her features. He was so familiar, so similar to her brother, Thomas. Narrowing her eyes, she pulled back from sight, her mind racing and her heart pounding as if she were there, by Minho's side, out in the Maze escaping the knives of a Griever.
She was gone to the back of the crowd before she could think, the boys too caught up in their excitement to notice the Leader's pensive and frightened expression. Was it her brother, truly? Further, would he have the capacity to recognise her, fresh out of the Box? Squinting as Newt hoisted the Greenie out of the Box, she lurched into action, a storm of fear and love wrenching at her gut as she immediately felt a connection with the tall, pale, brown haired boy.
"Tho-" the words wanted to come out, but something was stopping her from speaking, an awful barrier that left her deprived of oxygen. She tried again to no avail, still struggling too much with her depleted oxygen stores to warn anyone of the narrowing of his observant eyes and the tensing of his right leg; he was heading straight out into the Maze. The likeness he had to Minho's aggressive leap towards the Doors on his first day was frightening.
Black spots danced at the edges of her vision as she raised her arms at Newt, his eyes flashing in her direction with a sudden understanding. It was too late. By the time her breathing came back, he was halfway across the Glade and running, fast.
"Go, Adira!" Newt yelled as several boys laughed at Thomas, while some started to point out his formidable speed.
"He'll be a Runner, watch!" a voice yelled out.
"Shuck no shank, a Slopper!"
"Are you blind? He's as fast as Adira and Minho!"
Nodding sharply at Newt, she sprinted after him, her feet moving on autopilot as she gave chase. He was really fast, she'd give him that. Good form too, arms pumping fast by his side as she sped up. She hadn't expected him to turn around, but he did, his face white with fear, eyes so painfully familiar.
He raced onwards and for a moment fear opened up like a chasm in her heart as he got closer and closer to his death. Until Minho came out, his face exhausted but alert.
Slowing down to a less rapid sprint, she came as backup for him, watching as Minho pounced on her brother, pinning him down as the concrete walls started grinding shut, rendering Thomas unable to speak or move from complete shock. The yells of the boys at the Box lessened as they saw the Greenie still alive and within the reliable grasp of the Leaders and the Keeper of the Runners.
"Shucks, Adira, ain't keeping a close eye on the Greenies?" Minho groaned, waving Newt down. The blonde rolled his eyes exaggeratedly as he limped his way over to them.
"He ran for the Doors. Like you." she said, her face struggling to retain its composure as Thomas looked up at her, eyes wide in fear and disconnection. He didn't recognise her. Ignoring her heart falling, she raised him up onto his feet.
"If you want to shucking live, you'll stay away from there." she spat harshly and Minho gave her a weird look, surprised at the bite in her tone. Newt laid a steady hand on her shoulder. Forcing a breath through her nose, she nodded sharply at her brother, her fear disintegrating at his confused face.
"Live?" Thomas questioned, "What's out there? What is this place? Who are you?-"
Minho groaned, his voice low and guttural and her attention switched immediately. She hadn't noticed his lack of moaning about the Greenie until now.
"Minho?"
He moved his arm from his torso and her eyes widened in horror at the blood staining his shirt; the usual dark blue had given way to a black colour and an iron smell.
"What happened?" she demanded, reaching down to help him up, "Newt take T- the greenie around the Glade, I'll catch up with him at the Bonfire."
Thomas looked dazed as Newt slowly bent down to his level, his steady, calm voice soothing his tensed muscles almost immediately. It didn't pass her notice that Thomas' eyes had lingered on Minho's torso and her arm around his waist, as if he was trying to understand the cause of his injury.
"Well?" she asked angrily, turning to Minho, "Couldn't have shucking told me any quicker."
Minho shot her a grin that looked more like a grimace, "Just a Griever, girlie. It ain't as bad as it looks."
"Okay Minho." she replied blandly, "Walk yourself to the Med hut then. It was just a Griever wasn't it?"
His eyes widened in panic, "How about no? I did just run all the way here."
"You aren't getting any sympathy from me if you're gonna be a slinthead." she grunted, pulling him into the Med Hut, "Clint, this shank needs help!"
"Like I haven't got enough to do." Clint muttered lowly in irritation, coming out from behind a linen sheet that had been hung up to conceal Ben, "What in the name of shuckfaced klunkheads have you done to yourself now?"
She winced at Minho's laboured breathing, knowing that the injury was severe for it to reduce him to the state he was in. Clint's face was lined with tiredness but his normal composure came over him the minute he lifted Minho's shirt. That's how she knew it wasn't pretty.
"Lost a lot of blood." he muttered, "He'll pass out any second now, watch."
Adira said nothing, watching as Minho's eyes fluttered shut. Reaching over, she squeezed his hand and he gripped hers before passing out as Clint had predicted.
"Well." Clint sighed, before snapping his fingers for Jeff. The boy slipped past the linen sheet, his face pale and exhausted as he stood to attention.
"Sutures, Jeff." Clint demanded, as he poured alcohol over the large gash spanning Minho's torso. After the cleaning she grimaced at the extent of damage. Bruises littered his front, along with smaller abrasions that had nothing on the massive clean, diagonal slice that started from just underneath his collarbone and curved down to his waist.
"It's deep isn't it?" she asked grimly, manoeuvring herself towards the pots of herbs and extracting some mild dill.
"Quite." Clint said in a strained voice and she quietened her questions as he worked quickly.
A few minutes passed in tense silence as Clint worked fast on the cut, his fingers careful and precise. Minho frowned as his temporary unconsciousness dissolved and the pain of Clint's needlework slammed him straightaway, causing his muscles to tense.
"Done."
She nodded, relieved, before walking over to Minho, voice low and calm, "You need to rest tonight, Min, if you want to run tomorrow. I'll get you some food for dinner, but otherwise, sleep."
Minho looked irritated at the confinement but nodded slightly, "Fine. Come and visit though."
She gave him a wry smile, "Don't miss me too much."
He gave her his signature smirk, eyes closing as he drifted away into sleep.
Newt laughed as she downed the mug of Gally's brew, slamming the container down onto the sandy floor beside the Bonfire pit.
"You'll do yourself in." Newt cackled, "Chugging like a shuck man running a buggin' marathon."
She glared at the blonde boy, "If I die, s'all your fault."
"Right, love." Newt chuckled, "All I said was Minho's a better drinker than ya and ya took the bait. My fault? Nah, I think not."
"Title goes to me now." she responded smugly, "I'm better than him."
Newt laughed at her defiant posture, relishing the stinging heat of the Bonfire. Her frown dissipated as she relaxed by him, the waves of heat rippling through her body. Her muscles had unknowingly been coiled up painfully for the majority of the day and now, by the tantalising heat of the fire and the ambient noise surrounding them, she could feel them slowly loosening.
"Greenie's settling well." Newt said and she turned to face Thomas, his fists outstretched against Gally in the Pit. Rubbing her arm to stop the sudden chill that sprang along her skin, her mood soured immediately as she noticed the frightened aura that emanated from him. The Gladers were used to it of course, but seeing it from someone she loved inherently was a different experience. She wished he remembered her.
Newt noticed her change in attitude and sipped on his own drink quietly, not saying anything and simply observing.
"He's settling." Adira answered shortly, softening as Thomas jumped up, apparently yelling his name to the whole population with awe, "Looks like he knows his name."
Newt grinned as Thomas was chucked around by the boys, all chanting his name in a tangled mess. Seemed popular for a Greenie.
"Wonder what." Newt snorted, "All I hear is a shuck lot of yelling."
"Thomas." she said, her stomach lurching, "His name is Thomas."
Newt's eyes widened drastically and his face twisted into an expression of shock, "The Thomas?"
She nodded, swirling a new mug of Gally's brew in her hand pensively, "My brother. He doesn't remember."
The words felt bitter on her tongue and she drank more of the brew, drowning the taste out with its signature sharp and sour burn. She hated how things were going, but she felt helpless. She hated that too.
Newt shook his head, "He'll be like us. He'll come around, ain't no question 'bout it."
She nodded but she felt far away, back in the memory of them as children. "I hope so."
Newt chewed his lip with a frown on his face, "He will."
"Shucks, I'm nervous." she said, laughing sharply, "He might never remember."
"Then you'll man up and tell him by yourself." Newt grinned, "There's a solution to everything."
She shrugged back, "Let's go talk to him."
Newt raised his eyebrow questioningly but got to his feet, giving her a hand up, "I'll be your supervisor, nothin' more, none less."
She nodded, "Fine. I doubt he'll linger long. To him, I'm the Leader of the Glade, someone who doesn't have time for Greenies. Probably thinks I'm a slinthead."
Newt scoffed disbelievingly behind her, "I don't disagree with the last bit but 'part from bloody running this place, you bother to talk to every Greenie. More than I can say for some of the Keepers here, Ad."
She didn't answer his passionate defence, too caught up in observing Thomas' actions; his attentive eyes that kept flickering to the giant walls, the jogging leg and the air of curiosity he carried with him. It was painful that he didn't know.
"I'll get a brew." Newt said quietly, noticing her slightly broken expression.
"Okay." she muttered, "Come back soon."
Newt left, his soft footfalls blending in with the chaotic yells and runs of the other boys. She wished he hadn't gone, suddenly wanting him to stand by her side and press her into a hug, like he did whenever she was vaguely upset. Breathing in roughly, she made her way to her lost brother.
"Thomas." she said, standing by him. Thomas looked up, a flash of an unknown emotion flitting through his face. She didn't try to decipher it.
"Adira?" There was a question in his voice and she nodded sharply.
"S'right." she confirmed, "How's it all been?"
Thomas ran a hand through his hair, the light brown hair that she knew her hair resembled. She wondered if they looked anything similar. Maybe not since no one noticed anything.
"No one's telling me anything." he grumbled, "Chuck's alright, but he ain't opening his mouth."
"Newt gave you the Tour?" she asked.
"Yeah."
She frowned, "Then you know everything you need to, shank."
Thomas stood and she followed, "But what's out there? Why are we in here?"
She shrugged, "No one knows why we're here. And out there? A shucking Maze."
She didn't mean to drop a bomb but his shocked face was completely worth it and she couldn't suppress the snort that erupted out of her. Thomas looked uneasy.
"What's all those words?" Thomas asked inquisitively. Apparently, he loved asking questions.
She laughed freely then, "You'll learn Greenie."
Newt came over then, gauging her expression, his face relaxing from its earlier hidden concern and shoved a mug into Thomas' hands. She knew Thomas would benefit from a companionship with Newt and she decided to let them bond. Based on her past memories, before they'd been thrust into the Glade, Thomas and Newt had been best friends. She wondered what would happen over the coming months between the two.
"I'll leave you be. Minho needs his food now otherwise Clint will have my head."
Newt nodded, making himself comfortable on the log, patting the space next to him for Thomas. She paused, noticing the way he left his bad leg limp and Newt looked up at her worried stare, shaking his head.
"Look after yourself." she murmured, aware of Thomas' eyes on them. A blind man could tell they were incredibly close. He frowned as if he was trying to remember something and Newt slapped his back in a friendly manner.
"Right, Greenie…"
Newt's chirpy voice faded as she collected Minho's allocated meal, thanking Frypan and heading to the Med Hut, the falling silence bringing peace to her violated ears. She crept into the Med Hut, slightly dejected that Minho was still sound asleep- she wanted to tell him about Thomas. Placing his plate on the table next to his bed, she left again, heading back to the Bonfire with a renewed sense of gusto.
"Back again so quick?" Newt asked lightly, "Minho's sleeping like a wee baby then."
She nodded morosely, "Dead out."
Newt slapped her back, "He'll be chipper in the morning, trust me. Shank needs the sleep more than he says he does."
Adira nodded, "So, what'd Thomas say?"
An odd look passed Newt's face and she grew alert at the expression he bore, "Shank's very curious 'bout the Maze. Chuck's been filling him in 'bout it without the specifics."
He looked away for a brief second before talking again, "He saw Ben. In the Changing."
She groaned, "He'll be shucked in the head now. Looking makes me gag."
Newt nodded in agreement, "He wanted to know what happened."
She stayed quiet and Newt sighed with an air of amusement and exhaustion, "I guess Minho could benefit from another Runner? Shank was bloody fast-"
"No. I'll run all the sections if he wants." she said sharply and Newt gave a bark of laughter at her response.
"Wouldn't bloody expect anything less of ya."
The morning brought Adira a hangover and an aching heart, but she swallowed her emotions and stored them away in a small, dark compartment in her mind. Stretching, she left her room, already noticing that the Gladers were rising, some even coming out of the Kitchens, breakfasts finished.
Newt tapped her from behind, a small grin on his face, "Showed Tommy the Grievers."
She turned, "That'll put him off the shuck Maze, watch."
Newt didn't look convinced and she pursed her lips, knowing it wasn't true. He was naturally curious, and if anything like her, probably just as stubborn as a mule. He'd be a Runner, no doubt about it.
"Job trials for him today, though." Newt said brightly, "I'll take him to the Slicers."
Adira nodded, "Thanks. I'm on number duty if you need me."
Newt gave her a sympathetic grimace, before he slapped his forehead with the air of remembering something, "Minho left this morning. Told me to tell ya that he's shucking fine and he didn't need to miss the Bonfire in the end. That was the nice version."
An unbidden grin swept across her face momentarily, "Well he won't be greeted by the nice version of me, that's for sure."
"I'm scared for him."
"I'll be scared for you too if you don't get gone and do your work."
"Ta, love." Newt said sarcastically, "I'll make myself scarce."
She snorted as Newt limped away to Thomas, her eyes lingering on the way Thomas' frown melted off his face as Newt grinned widely. There it was, the subconscious leftover from their past.
Stepping down towards the Box, she picked up crates, delivering them to the right people as fast as she could, sweat beading along her hairline. She absolutely abhorred number duty. There was nothing in the world as tedious as it.
"Thanks shuckette." Frypan thanked, his face stretched into a small smile. She nodded in response, leaving the Kitchens with ample sweat on her face and a dying need for shade. She was about to walk down the stairs when it went off, the high pitched ring that broke everyone's ears.
Falling down the staircase, she righted herself almost instantaneously, eyes wide with confusion and fear. The Box's alarm was going off. Thomas had only come up yesterday. What was going on?
"What?" she muttered, her voice trailing off as curious eyes found her confused form. She got to her feet, jogging up to the Box hole, eyes meeting with Newt's.
"I don't believe it." Newt murmured, "Maybe they forgot something?"
"They don't make mistakes." she said, shaking her head, "I don't know what this is. Supplies?"
Newt frowned deeply, his face saying everything his words didn't. Blowing out a breath, they waited in a tense silence, heads racing with possibilities of what it would bring. Supplies seemed like a weak possibility- they'd always delivered supplied every two weeks, there was no need to break the pattern.
Steadily boys were streaming towards the Box, watching the Leaders for any idea of what was happening before questioning their neighbours as if they knew all. Keepers had long abandoned their work with the exception of Minho, who was still running around in the Maze, oblivious to the chaos.
The Box banged up onto the Lid and she wasted no time throwing the heavy slab of metal backwards, revealing the contents.
"Blimey." Newt muttered, his face impassive, "Looks like you were right all along, Ad."
She frowned, confused, before her eyes landed on the small, curled up figure in the corner of the Box. A girl. Her heart just about stopped.
"She's not moving." she commented sharply and Newt nodded.
"Well I'll get her out first."
He jumped down, the earlier impassiveness shifting to a frown of ice and Adira faced the clamouring boys, her stern gaze silencing their futile attempts for answers.
"We got another Greenie boys." she wet her lips, "'Cept, Greenie's a girl."
The pandemonium that ensued was one that Adira had never seen before, not even when someone had died. There was a degree of panic in the air, but the excitement was overriding any sense of danger that the girl had brought with her and Adira turned back, helping Newt hoist the girl out of the Box. A few heavy pushes later, she was out, her pristine skin tainted with the blazing sun's rays.
"We ain't finished with the buggin' tale." Newt barked. Faces of indignation and terror looked up at the second in command's unusually grim, tight face. They all knew it was bad when the dark look came into Newt's eyes.
"I think she's dead."
Adira laid her out on the floor, swiping a tendril of ink black hair off her pale face. Too pale. The boys' quiet murmurs of confusion built up, like water against a dam until they were shouting questions again.
She almost went into cardiac arrest as she observed the face. Teresa. Newt frowned as she relayed the news, distaste evident on his features as he gestured to the girl, almost aggressively.
"Med-Jack!"
Clint came forward from the crowd, his eyes bloodshot but his face aware, "I'm goi-"
A gasp of breath and heavy breathing broke Clint out of his sentence and they turned to the gasping figure of the girl, her pretty face contorted in pain. Newt limped back, partly in shock, partly in horror.
"Everything is going to change."
The girl's voice was raspy and low, her deep blue eyes unblinking and ghost like as she relayed her curse over them all. Silence followed. Adira stepped closer towards Teresa but stumbled back as the girl sharply turned to the crowd, her eyes following someone.
Adira cautiously followed her line of sight, before meeting Thomas' confused face. Teresa collapsed again, but Adira paid her no mind, only turning when Newt tapped her impatiently, his face looking haunted as he held out a crumpled note.
"She's the last one. Ever."
Newt's hand shook slightly and the confusion in his face was clear as day. She turned to the crowd, her laser like stare penetrating the boys. They had silenced, a clean shock splicing their demand for answers.
"Get here, Greenie. " Adira called. Sure, he was her brother and she loved him inherently, but there was something going on behind the scenes that she couldn't quite figure out and he had something to do with it.
Thomas' face was a picture of shock and embarrassment as he stumbled up to them, ears reddening.
"She look familiar?" Newt asked, his voice hard. She glanced at him; his broad shoulders were pulled back into something akin to a military stance and her stomach gave a heavy lurch. Her gut was telling her that Teresa's arrival was not good.
"Think hard Greenie." Newt warned, as Thomas hurriedly shook his head. Brown met brown.
"I don't know her." Thomas said and there was a creep of anger in his voice. Despite the indignation, she knew he was lying.
"Slim it." she commanded, "Clint, Jeff, take her to the Med Hut. Fry, soup for the girl. Everyone else, work, otherwise I'll personally shuck you over the Cliff."
The crowd scattered, leaving behind the Leaders and Thomas.
"If anything, and I bloody mean, anything, seems familiar, you'll run up to me and Ad here, and you'll tell us. Hear me?" Newt said, his voice harsher than she would've expected. He felt it too, the lingering unease. She could tell he was stressed by the way his jaw ticked.
"Y-yes." Thomas stuttered out, obviously intimidated, "But I don't know anything."
Newt rolled his eyes, "Alright shank. But if you do-"
"Then I'll run up to you and I'll tell you." Thomas finished, picking himself up.
Newt looked satisfied and shooed Thomas away. He left, Chuck trotting by his side, curly hair bouncing as his pudgy form struggled to keep up with her brother's longer, stronger strides. Newt's words about him becoming a Runner floated into her mind and she pushed them away.
"Bloody confusing." Newt muttered, "She's the last one ever?"
"No more Greenies." she said succinctly, shaking her head. It made no sense. Three years and then this…
Newt frowned, almost petulantly, "No more Bonfires."
She gave him a small smile despite her bewilderment, "Maybe. If we're still here."
Newt gave her a questioning glance, "If?"
Her smile fell, her face darkening, "Things are changing. And fast."
Newt nodded, "And my head's aching like a mother now, thanks to the new shuckette. I'll head to the Gardens, Tommy's with me too- didn't last long at the Slicers."
"I wonder why." Adira replied sardonically, "Watch him for me."
Newt gave her a cheesy thumbs up before turning away and she sighed, hanging her head to gaze at the place where the girl had just been. Teresa. Her first impression hadn't been the best; first assumed dead, then alive, armed with a cryptic message and a heavy focus on her brother and then gone into the depths of a coma. The pale faced girl had brought problems into the Glade, but Adira, frustratingly, couldn't gauge how bad things were.
She didn't know that things were about to take another definite turn south. Things were changing faster than she had ever anticipated.