Chapter Twenty-Seven

The squirrels hadn't tasted anywhere near as good as the ducks but nobody was complaining. They'd eaten and killed the fire by the time late afternoon had turned to evening and although they were all reluctant about it they had packed up and set off again. They had less chance of being found if they kept moving, kept alert. They didn't have the energy to jog let alone run and so they were trailing through the forest at a walk, everybody desperate for the sun to begin its descent and for the temperature to do the same.

They were careful with the water, restricted to small sips and sharing one bottle at a time. It was almost finished by the time the sun was about to set, the looming onset of dusk a welcome relief. The air cooled reluctantly and then all at once, leaving them shivering and uncertain whether they were truly happy about it. But it was such a relief to breathe air instead of shimmering heat.

"So what, do we head for the slope again or find somewhere new?" Thomas asked after a while, looking between Newt and Minho.

Newt had taken hold of his hand a while back and was sticking close. He'd been quiet since his temper had waned over the fire and although Thomas was feeling worried he knew it was really unwarranted. Newt was hot and tired just like the rest of them and he was trying to make up for his earlier mood by being sweet and affectionate and Thomas wasn't the least bit proud to say it was working like a charm. The blonde shrugged when he met his eye, a lop-sided smile on his face as he squeezed Thomas's hand.

"Whatever ya think, Tommy. You're the Leader."

Minho had sniggered, and shrugged when Thomas shot him a look. He held his hands up, but his expression wasn't the least bit apologetic, his eyebrows raised cockily as he walked backwards through the trees in front of them. His grin was cavalier and his eyes were flashing with humour.

"Who says i'm not the leader, blondie? I mean when you think about it i'm keeping you shanks safe. Position should fall to me by default."

He shrugged at the last part and Thomas rolled his eyes but somehow found himself smiling at the boy's confident manner. He was a curious study for sure, this asian boy from the Masonry district who could climb trees and for whatever reason hadn't tried to kill them yet. Newt snorted derisively at Thomas's side. Probably from being referred to as blondie.

"Thomas could kick your bloody arse any day of the week." he shot back, his lips a smug twist on his face.

Minho merely grinned wickedly and laughed again.

"Oh could he now? Care to try that out, Thomas? I'd even promise to leave my knives out of it. You know, make it almost fair."

He was teasing, but his words had an unsettling edge to them. Thomas didn't let it show that he was feeling defensive, rolling his eyes and shaking his head, sighing dramatically. An out-of-place mirth streaked through him and he taunted Minho back, dipping into an exaggerated bow.

"Oh no, oh Great One from the Masonry district. I wouldn't dare offend you."

Newt sniggered into his hand and even Aris was giggling, his face reddened and his eyes apologetic like he thought he shouldn't find it funny. Minho scowled, turning back to trot off in a huff before throwing Thomas a wink over his shoulder.

"Probably best. I wouldn't want to embarrass you in front of your boyfriend."

Thomas flushed as the other boy laughed, almost crying out a denial. But he stopped himself, glancing awkwardly at the blonde beside him. Newt was red in the face again and this time it had absolutely nothing to do with the temperature. He was biting his bottom lip even as he was scowling ineffectively at Minho's back. He glanced up at Thomas then before looking away again, shy and uncertain.

But he didn't let go of Thomas's hand.