A woman caressed his face.
She was murmuring something like it was their little secret. Her eyes gleamed with joy as he opened his, her smile becoming more radiant than the sun itself. Not everything was happiness. Hidden at the back of her eyes and the corner of her lips, there was fear.
"Did my little warrior have a nightmare?" she asked.
"I was running," his younger self answered. "I was one of those bad people outside, and I hurt dad."
His mother's warm hand descended to his cheek, making him lean on it to absorb the warmness. "That won't happen, darling. You'll stay here, with me, where it's safe. Your brother and dad will take care of the rest, OK? We will be fine."
William's eyes shot open as he hurried to his feet, his eyes scanning his surroundings.
No Cranks were near, and neither was his group, the A's or Aris. His breathing, quick and shallow, didn't let him concentrate on anything except his memories: his first time seeing his mother's face so clearly, the fact that Newt had a sister called Sonya, who could possibly also be his friend, and his brother.
Dead? He's dead? William thought, a hand covering his mouth to keep himself from crying.
The thought that his brother, the only family he had left, could be long gone drove him close to freezing madness. He shut his eyes, trying to recollect when exactly that memory had happened. If it was before solitary confinement, couldn't it be figurative speech? Judging by Janson's words, his brother wasn't dead yet when they spoke. He had just forgotten about him, like A5, B5, and Group S.
He wanted to walk away, maybe sit at the edge of the ruins and take in the devastated surroundings. It was the only way he could feel like at least something was more chaotic than their lives. However, he couldn't leave Newt behind when the boy was still sleeping.
"Newt," he whispered, shaking the boy lightly. "Newt, help me out. I can't carry you by myself. It's early. You should go to sleep with the rest."
"Liam?" Newt took a second to open his eyes and look around before realising where they were. "What about you?"
"I need some peace and quiet to think. Don't worry, I won't be far," said William, a smile playing across his face as he saw Newt sitting up. "Come, I'll help you down."
"No," muttered Newt. "I'll stay with you."
"But—" William tried to deny the offer, but couldn't.
"No buts. You want me to be quiet? I'll be, but I won't leave you alone out here." Newt got up, brushing the dirt off his trousers and jacket. "So? Where to?"
William huffed, and pointed at the side of the ruins, where they sat, watching as the sun rose in the sky over what was left of the city. The boy kept his promise, not trying to start any form of small talk as time passed. Just like him, Newt appeared to have a lot going on in his mind.
Somehow, despite all the thoughts he knew that should have more importance, William couldn't help but stare at the boy next to him. His memories surged every time their eyes met. The comparison between what they once were and what they were now made a mild sting appear in his heart, which was a welcomed variation from the ones already in his neck and arms.
"Are you alright?" William asked in a low tone, his eyes meeting with Newt's once again.
"I thought you wanted peace and quiet," scoffed Newt.
"People change their minds, Newt," he said.
The boy directed his eyes back to the buildings, or what was left of them, frowning at his own thoughts as he answered, "we've lost seven bloody people so far, and we're still on day one."
"I'm sorry." William squeezed Newt's hand to comfort him.
"There's nothing that can be done now. Many of my friends have sacrificed themselves to get all of us this far. I won't give up now." Newt's hands trembled lightly as he clenched them together over his lap.
Before he knew what he was doing, William already had his arms around Newt, bringing the boy into a hug. Luckily, Newt didn't mind and patted William's back as if he had to be the one being comforted.
That was Newt's role in Group A, the person who held everyone together. Just like Flor. Those were the strongest kinds of people, and the ones carrying the most burden. Newt wasn't allowing himself to accept the comfort. He had, or rather needed, to be the one to keep control over the situation.
"It's OK," William assured, but Newt was not willing to put down the guard he had probably kept for years. "It'll be fine."
They stayed silent for a while, not breaking the hug, even if the positions were rather uncomfortable to keep for more than a minute. Nevertheless, as many pairs of footsteps approached, William let go to make sure no Cranks were coming their way.
"So you shanks were here," said Minho, appearing behind the pillar, with Thomas and Mae following close behind.
"Good morning to you too, Minho." William turned on the ground to face the large group. "So, where to?"
Most people glanced from Thomas to Minho, who had become the group's new leaders in a single night. Minho directed his eyes at Thomas, making everyone realise who was in charge of guiding them.
"The mountains. Let's go," ordered Thomas.
Letting the two boys go first, Mae approached William, tossing him and Newt on their backpacks before forcing William to follow her. They walked side by side behind Thomas and Minho, following them around the streets.
"I saw," that was all Mae said before placing a hand on William's shoulder. "Yesterday. I'd have to be blind not to notice."
"Mae, I have no idea what you're talking about," answered William truthfully. "Saw what?"
Mae's eyes travelled back in front of them, seeing how close they were to Thomas and Minho. With the hand she had on his shoulder, she pulled him back and walked slower to create a greater distance between them and the two boys.
"The panic attack," she whispered. "Newt calmed you. He hugged you and kissed your head . . ."
William's eyes widened slightly but tried to play it as if he had just been shocked at Newt's reaction to his supposed panic attack. "I must have scared him if he acted like that with a stranger."
"With a stranger," Mae scoffed. "Please, if I wanted to hear darn stupidity, I'd ask Thomas or Henry about their conspiracy theories."
He brought a hand to his neck, the stinging sensation getting worse as he scratched the skin around the cuts. William wanted to leave Mae behind and walk alone, but he knew he couldn't do that."What do you want to hear, then? There's nothing more to it, Mae."
"Do you not see the way you two look at each other?" Mae questioned. "It's exactly like Leen and Bea. They started like that. The sneak glances, the hand holding, always wanting to be together. And look where they are now."
"Mae, I'm being serious. Where are you going with this?" William asked, needing nothing more than a break from the interrogation and social interaction.
"You two like each other, you darn idiot," she whispered loudly. "OK? I see the way you look at each other. That's love."
"I thought we had established that love killed people. What do you want to accomplish by pointing that out?" William turned his head to stare into her eyes, which didn't waver for a second.
"Yes, love kills people like us. That's exactly why I'm worried." Her hand descended to squeeze his hand reassuringly. "Just be careful. If you want to stay with him, I won't blame you, alright? None of us will."
"Mae," William said calmly, taking a deep breath in and out not to snap at his friend. "I won't stay with him, even if I remembered my entire life, and he happened to be my darn boyfriend, alright? I'll go with you . . . you birdies are my darn family. The only one I have."
"And that won't change. Ever," Mae assured, her hand travelling to his back to rub it comfortingly. "We have to be there for each other, right? Who else will there be if not us?"
"No one." William shook his head with a soft laugh, his prior need to hurry and leave everything behind, completely gone from his mind.
Minho guided them through the streets of the city. Some buildings around them barely held up. But none looked safe enough to spend the night in them. The bright sun's heat burned their skin, forcing them to walk under the shade of the buildings. The group stayed closer to them than what William would like to, but there was no other path. They all glanced from one side to another, watching the ruins as they passed by.
"Pretty sure we just arrived in bloody hell. Always thought you'd end up here, Minho, but not me," Newt commented, causing William, and Chuck, who was behind him and Mae, to snicker, though Newt's comment wasn't supposed to be a joke.
"What the hell happened to this place, though?" Frypan questioned.
As they found no other route along the shade, they were forced to walk through the middle of the street. The sidelines, where the destroyed buildings could protect them, were now blocked due to the number of ruins that endangered the way further than it already was.
"I don't know," Newt answered. "It doesn't look like anyone's been here in a long time."
"I hope the whole world is not like this," Aris said, glancing from Flor to William, who nodded along.
"Yeah, I hope there are other places better than this. If we keep going north, we'd probably find something other than the Right Arm." Flor suggested, though not to the entire group.
Once they left Aris and what was left of Group A with the Right Arm, and, hopefully, got their location devices out of their bodies, Group S's new plan was to go up north. Perhaps they could find a place only for them. There was no need to be with other people. Not when they could end up becoming Cranks and infect the others. As long as they remained healthy, being isolated from the world didn't seem like a bad idea.
Still, every time William glanced at Aris or Newt, his confidence somehow evaporated.
He knew no good would come from telling them anything. None of his friends knew, and he would rather keep it that way. Family, lover, friends. It didn't matter to William. He had been sincere to Mae. If those who should remember him couldn't, why make them suffer? Why give them unnecessary information when he would only leave them behind?
Group S was his family, not some boys he could barely remember — if the memories were real at all and not manipulated like Teresa's.
It would be best for all of them if he didn't say a thing. It would be better for him to forget, once again, that he had friends outside his group. Even if it hurt, it would be best for everyone. It meant less pain to go through. After reaching the Right Arm, the feeling of being abandoned would be less stinging.
Or that was what William tried to tell himself as his eyes involuntarily glanced at Newt, his leg bothering him while walking, for the hundredth time in the past five minutes.
Not saying a word, Thomas and George interchanged positions, though not completely knowingly on the A's part. Henry had come up to him and slowed him down, while George passed William and Mae to reach Minho.
"Everything will turn out fine, you'll see," George promised in a hushed tone to William, who nodded and smiled at him.
There was no time to reply, however, as Thomas called from the rear of the pack for everyone to stop. They did, looking back at him, confused, to see what was going on. He raised his hand somewhat, paying attention to something no one else heard or saw.
"Hear that?" He asked. No one did. For them, it was as quiet as it could get. At least, until engines began appearing in the distance. "Get down! Everybody, hide! Hide! Hide!"
They all ran to a fallen concrete pillar, where Thomas motioned them to get under. William followed after Chuck, keeping him secured to his left while Newt kneeled to his right. They kept their eyes glued to the sky, watching a strange, gigantic plane, probably a Berg, and two helicopters pass by over them.
"What were those?" Chuck muttered, glancing up at William, who shrugged in reply.
"They're never gonna stop looking after us, are they?" Minho wondered out loud.
"Not any time soon, no," Henry answered, helping Rowan up to her feet as the danger was long gone.
"Maybe if they can't find us after some months, they'll give up." Flor became the voice of hope.
However, William couldn't be as positive as she was. "We better hope so."
Seeing as the danger had passed, the large group got back on track. They walked through the city, climbing over ruins to get from one road to another. Some took their time climbing, like Winston, who had a pained expression, and Newt, whose leg never let him have a break.
The sand hills were William's least favourites. It was tiring, and he could barely see anything as the sand got in his eyes. Even if Thomas kept encouraging them all, it was clear they would soon be too exhausted to keep going.
"Those mountains, that's gotta be it." Thomas pointed practically at the horizon as they got to the top of the hill. "That's where we're going."
"That's a long way off," pointed out Newt.
"Then we better get moving," Thomas answered.
The moment they resumed their journey, Winston fell down. It wasn't a simple case of losing balance, since the boy had almost rolled down the hill. They all went to make sure he was alright, some shouting his name, others trying to get him to react.
"He's hurt pretty bad," Minho said.
"What do we do?" Teresa questioned.
"We can't take him anywhere like this," Henry added.
Thomas got up, glancing at the mountains repeatedly while Newt tried to get Winston's attention. "Winston, can you hear me? It's OK."
William watched Thomas as he convinced Frypan, George, and the two boys from A, whose names he didn't know, to get a couple of things for him from the ruins not far behind them. Once the four got back with sticks, sheets, and rope, they created a wooden stretcher for Winston.
Two people had to pull it, which ended up becoming an hourly job. Every hour, or when the person carrying it got tired, they would change them for someone who hadn't carried it yet, and so on until the rotation began all over again.
After walking for hours, a sandstorm appeared in the city, which they had left behind at a considerable distance. However, it was strong enough to raise the surrounding sand, blinding them and complicating their journey.
"Gotta find shelter!" shouted Thomas from his position as one of the carriers of the stretcher.
Teresa, who was in the lead with William and Newt, spotted something not far from them. When she pointed it out to the rest, their pacing quickened. It turned out that what she had seen were some fallen structures that the sand had mostly consumed.
Deciding there was no better shelter, for the time being, most sat down fairly near each other, watching Thomas go up the hill to determine how far away they were from the mountains. Group A sat facing where Thomas and Teresa were, while Aris and Group S faced Winston, who appeared to be in considerably more pain than before.
"What do we do?" Flor whispered to Mae, who could only shrug in response.
"I have no idea. So far we've only killed Cranks, not tried to save them," she whispered back, making Group S's attention land on Winston.
With his eyes on the boy, William leaned against the pillar, resting his head on it with a huff. "There has to be something that we can do."
Next to him, Newt took his eyes off Winston to glance at Thomas and Teresa. Not minding that the both of them seemed to be having a conversation, he leaned on the pillar with a hand shielding his eyes from the sunlight and raised his voice to ask.
"Who's it looking?"
Thomas doubted, "It's a little further."
As if not bothered by the discouraging answer, Newt turned around and faced the entire group, using a light tone to say, "That's not very convincing."
"Not really, no," Aris muttered.