Chapter 8
The rising sun brought no comfort to the Gladers that lay in its light.
The day of hell had begun.
Most people had no idea what was coming; yet Thomas knew full well what was ahead of them.
Frypan gave Thomas a brief nod as he handed him his breakfast – a warm and juicy bacon sandwich – freshly made from the pigs, which grazed the fields below them. Thomas ate by himself, Brenda had not woken, and he didn't fancy being sociable with his other friends.
Too many things were on his mind.
Despite his clear statement that he wanted to be alone, Thomas found himself being joined by Minho. He had dark patches under his eyes, almost as if he hadn't had any sleep last night.
"You wanna talk shuck face?" Minho mumbled towards Thomas. His voice had something missing from it, almost like his passion had died before he was due to. Thomas hesitated, and the nodded towards the space in front of him. Minho quickly sat himself down, wrapping his hands around his steaming mug of hot chocolate.
Birds sang gracefully, a peaceful, delicate tune, which rang across the land. The harmonious melody seemed to be putting a smile on everyone's face.
Everything seemed to good to be true.
"How do you feel then?" Thomas asked, breaking the two from their awkward silence.
"Generally? Not too bad. About dying? Not too fond of the idea" he said sarcastically.
At least he could joke about it.
"I've lost enough people you know, don't fancy losing you as well slinthead" Thomas threw back – a cheeky wink as he did so.
"Well…I guess we will just have to keep an eye out. I had people on watch last night to make sure no Griever came out. Looks like we are safe until we attack later on"
Thomas was shocked.
How could Minho still want to attack a forest knowing he had just been given a death sentence?
Minho must have read his mind, because he quickly added "Thomas, that Griever is a massive danger to our whole community – we can't just leave it simply because there may be a chance that I'll die"
Thomas began to argue, but stopped himself.
Minho was right; they had to attack.
Evening came almost too quickly. The sun had died out for the day. The council had rounded themselves up towards the south entrance of the forest. They were out of view from any of the sleeping Gladers. They were prepared with several weapons. Each person had a dagger of sorts, and some carried a launcher. The launchers were one of the weapons that they picked up from the WICKED compound. They were running low on ammo – but they had enough to deal with one Griever.
They stuck together in a diamond formation as they entered the forest. Minho stood at the front, with Thomas on his right and Sonya on his left - Gally following close behind. Frypan had elected to stay with the Gladers so he could still make them dinner without questions being asked.
But then they had lost a lot of people, and of course –
Jorge was missing.
Nobody spoke as they made their way deeper into the forest. They were deep enough to put their 'paradise' area out of sight. The forest was incredibly dense; all they could see now was trees.
Each corner of the diamond held a weapon in one hand, a torch in the other. Constantly scanning the area that they were manning.
Minho held out a hand for them to stop, and pointed towards a patch of grass in front of them.
"This is where Brenda was found" he whispered. Thomas, Gally and Frypan, looked down towards where he was pointing. The patch was messy, as if someone had trampled across it – not taking any care. As well as this, bits of grass had been pulled out in places lay across the ground.
"And I believe that was the tree the Griever came from" whispering again as he pointed upwards. A tall, leafy tree pierced the sky above them. Thomas shone his torch in the direction Minho was pointing, revealing a sight of horror. Marks were all over the tree, deep scratches in the bark as well as several branches snapped. Bits of bark lay at the base of the tree; they were covered in a green, luminous liquid.
"Isn't that what the things blood looks like?" Thomas hissed.
Minho nodded.
"So what, is he injured or…"
Thomas was interrupted by a snap of a twig a few meters behind them.
They all span towards the sound, raising their weapons.
"Whoa…easy"
The voice had come from the darkness where the snapping had come from. Thomas instantly recognized it.
Jorge stepped out of the darkness and stopped a meter in front of Thomas, his launcher still pointing towards Jorge's head.
"Okay, maybe be and you didn't say goodbye on good terms eh?" he said towards Thomas.
"Slim it Jorge" Thomas quickly hissed. "Tell me what you're doing here!"
"Relaaaaaaax Tommy, no need to be so stressed my dear"
Minho stepped forwards towards Jorge, and in a speed faster than lightning, threw a fist at his face. The connection sent Jorge sprawling backwards, landing roughly on the forest floor.
"Where have you been? Why are you sneaking around in the forest trying to scare us you piece of shit!" Minho yelled, his voice echoing around them. He loomed over Jorge, his wide torso rising and falling in breaths of fury.
"Okay, j-just calm down Minho" Jorge said quietly, his voice trembling. He sat back against a tree trunk, cowering in fear.
"Speak then" Minho spat back.
"I had to run away after I saw Thomas loved up with Brenda, did you know they are a cute couple now?" he said mockingly, throwing a death glare towards Thomas who had now sat down with Gally and Sonya behind Minho.
Minho chuckled, and briefly turned round to give Thomas a thumbs up, followed with a "Congratulations".
It was a big mistake.
"This isn't funny!" Jorge shouted, seizing his chance to spring up from his sitting position. Before Minho had managed to turn back round to face him, he was tackled to the ground. Jorge began to attack Minho's body in fury – he had caught Minho by surprise, sending him into a brief moment of shock. He lay there for a few seconds, taking in Jorge's punches to the face, but then regained his senses and prepared to fight back. Thomas hesitated, but then raised his launcher and shot a ball of electricity towards Jorge just as Minho had threw him off his body and stood up to fight him toe to toe. "Minho!" Thomas yelled, but it was too late. The ball of electricity slammed into Minho's back, sending him flying forward and into the ground. Jorge had just picked himself up also, and raised his eyes in shock as Minho convulsed in front of him. Minho wriggled like a caterpillar as the electricity travelled through his body, sending his body into spasm. His skin turned an awful pale colour as saliva oozed out from his mouth. He thrashed about in pain, completely helpless.
Jorge took the opportunity to attack Thomas.
Thomas was busy staring at Minho and didn't see Jorge run towards him. Thomas stumbled backwards as Jorge ran in - elbowing his rib. He cried out in pain, he hadn't fully recovered from the last time his ribs had been targeted. Thomas turned round to see Jorge looming above him.
Adrenaline began to pump through Thomas.
He kicked his leg out as hard as he could, catching Jorge in the balls. Jorge screamed in pain as he fell to the floor. Thomas sprung upwards, his ribs moaning in pain, and ran to grab the launched he had dropped. Jorge had begun to slowly pull himself back up but he was out of time. Thomas slammed the barrel of the weapon on the back of Jorge's head. He heard a faint cracking sound and blood began to appear as Jorge's body fell to the floor – motionless.
Thomas wanted to be sure.
He reached for a rock nearby and slammed it down on the back of Jorge's skull, again and again, sending blood spraying outwards like a fountain.
Eventually, he stopped.
He dropped the rock, tears forming in his eyes over what he had just done.
No time to get upset about it now – he thought.
He ran towards Minho's fried body. He had curled up into a ball, and lay there motionless.
He turned Minho onto his back, and began to check for a pulse. He searched frantically, both at his neck and at his wrist.
He couldn't find one.
Thomas recalled something from the back of his mind, and leaned forward – placing his hands on top of Minho's chest. He began to press up and down, short, hard movements in hope to get his heart going again.
A minute passed with no progress.
Thomas leaned towards Minho's head, slowing tipping his head back and opening his mouth. He squeezed his nose, and began to blow into his mouth.
He felt a small pulse.
Thomas repeated himself again. Twenty compressions; followed by a breath of air.
By the time he had done that five times, Minho's chest had begun to rise and fall naturally – as if he was sleeping.
Thomas fell back on himself, breathing in a sigh of relief.
He was exhausted
Hang on a second, where did Gally and Sonya go?
In everything that had happened, he had failed to realise that they had completely disappeared.
Screams rang out in the distance. Thomas knew it was theirs.