Fifteen : Orange

Tommy POV

"Tommy, wake up." Newt's urgent voice pulled be from a deep, dark sleep. I groggily opened my eyes and saw Newt looking down at me. He was standing next to the bed and shaking my shoulders, looking anxiously around the dark room.

'What's wrong?" I asked, snapping awake instantly. I sat up and scrambled to get the blankets off.

"It smells like smoke. And Minho's gone."

"Smoke-" I trailed off as I registered the acrid smell. I jumped off the bed and rushed over to the door. The doorknob was hot and orange light flickered through the bottom crack. Fear lanced through my chest as I carefully opened the door.

A wall of heat slammed into me. Thick, black smoke collected along the ceiling all the way down the hall. The living room ahead had one entire wall engulfed in bright orange and red flames, and they were climbing up to the ceiling.

"Minho!" I shouted as the crackling flames began eating away at the couches and rug. The upholstery was scorched in seconds. I heard footsteps running and my heart leapt into my throat. But Shiloh darted across the living room, tail tucked between his legs as he streaked room to room. The smoke was building, making it harder and harder to breathe.

"Get down low." Newt coughed, his hand pushing my shoulder down. We crouched down and moved towards the living room. I couldn't understand how a fire had caught. The fireplace wasn't even on. It sat completely dead and devoid of flames, meanwhile half the kitchen was now ablaze. The plastic handles of the fridge were melting, the cabinets catching like dry kindling.

"Michael!" I tried but again no one answered. Panic constricted my throat worse than the smoke as I ran to the master bedroom. Newt was right behind me, coughing hard as the smoke grew thicker.

The master bedroom was completely empty. The bed was even made, as if no one had even used it last night. I turned around and ran towards the bathroom. The flames were quickly following us. Empty. The entire house was empty except for Newt, Shiloh, and myself.

"Maybe they're outside?" Newt hissed, squinting against the stinging smoke. I started backtracking towards the front door. The heat was almost unbearable now. The roaring flames savaged anything they touched, leaving behind charred, blackened husks. The smoke had filled the entire house by this point.

We reached the sliding glass door and I pushed it open quickly. The sudden rush of fresh air was a blessing but the shock of the cold made it so I couldn't breathe for a second. We stumbled out of the cabin and across the snow covered deck. Shiloh streaked out of the house, slammed into the back of Newt's legs, and they both fell down the small flight of stairs leading to the ground. Shiloh yelped and got up, running straight for the dark trees. Newt lay on his back too stunned to move. He slowly rolled onto his hands and knees, coughing hard.

"Are you alright?" I reached down and hoisted him up by one arm. I pulled him away from the deck and a good 20 feet away from the cabin. He nodded, but was still trying to catch his breath. I looked back at the cabin with wide eyes. The entire building was engulfed. The orange flames danced across every surface, licked away at the sky, and cast a bright, golden light into the forest around us. Sparks flew through the air and several loud pops echoed throughout.

"Minho and Michael?" Newt breathed and I looked over at his soot streaked face. He met my gaze. Neither one of them were outside, and they hadn't been inside the cabin. Which meant they had disappeared somehow without our noticing. I glanced down at my watch. 02:23.

But then Newt was running back onto the deck, crouched low to avoid the billowing smoke and flames. Before I could say anything, he was running back. He held several pairs of sneakers. We both jumped as the sliding glass door shattered.

"Here, try one of these on." He said, handing me a couple pairs.

"Where did you get these?"

"Michael had a few sitting outside by the door. And we'll lose our toes without them." Newt said through chattering teeth. I blinked in surprise. He had grabbed them before the fire had taken them, a smart move. I carefully pulled one pair onto my numb feet.

We stood for a few minutes just watching as the cabin slowly burned. Everything that could have been useful was inside burning down with it. Blankets, food, everything. I knew we still had our tent and a few other supplies back at the bridge. But to sleep in a real bed, to finally eat something substantial, to be warm, just for it all to literally burn to the ground less than 6 hours later…

"Tommy…" Newt said softly next to me. I glanced over at his shivering frame. His arms were crossed over his chest, snow still clinging to his sweatshirt and hair. "We should go." I nodded, clenching my jaw.

"It's WICKED, it has to be…" I took a deep breath and ran my hands through my hair. I slowly paced back and forth through the snow. I just needed a moment to think, to process.

"WICKED?"

"It's the only explanation…" I sighed and looked over at the cabin again. Fire filled every window. I turned away from it and began walking. It was too cold to be standing around.

We made the half mile hike back to the bridge in silence. The roaring flames of the cabin slowly died out, replaced by the crunching snow under our feet. My thoughts were on Minho. How could he just disappear like that? He had been right next to us. And Michael? He was gone, but Shiloh was still here? I looked over to my left and saw the dog slowly following us, but keeping about 50 feet away.

"They said they wouldn't interfere." Newt said as we neared the bridge. It stood off in the distance, dark and shadowed in the moonlight.

"Since when does WICKED keep their word?"

"Then they're getting impatient. We've already been out here for a week."

"So next week are they going to take you too?" I looked over at him. His jaw was set as he kept his eyes trained on the bridge.

"We won't be out here another week. We have to get there before that."

"That's impossible on foot." I stopped walking and turned to face him. "We have at least 50 miles left to go."

"Then we need to get moving." Newt tried to step away from me but I grabbed his arm.

"No, listen to me, Newt. 50 miles on foot in this weather in less than a week…it won't happen. We have little to no supplies, a tent, and no food." I said carefully, my breath billowing in clouds. "WICKED may think we need to walk through the snow, fall into frozen ponds, but that's not our problem. We need to rethink this, figure out a better plan."

"There is no better plan, Thomas!" Newt shouted, his voice much louder in the silent forest. "We're stuck out here with no options!"

"We can go back to the cabin in the morning, it should be burned out by then. We can find something there to help us."

"Like what, another hummer? Strap a sled to that dog?" He pointed a thumb over his shoulder towards where Shiloh had stopped to watch us.

"No, it's a log cabin in the middle of nowhere. I bet you anything that there's a cellar somewhere nearby. A shed, some kind of other structure."

Newt was quiet for a moment, then let out a long sigh, looking up to meet my gaze. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, you're exhausted. I'm exhausted. It's cold, and I'm hungry again." I said and Newt cocked his head with a quick smile of understanding. I reached out and patted his shoulder gently. "Let's keep moving. We'll sleep until morning, and go from there."