"Stop!" He cried. "I don't want to kill him!"
"Soldier S5, shoot." The command infiltrated itself inside his mind without his consent, making him raise a gun in the air, pointing at his target; Aris. "Shoot!"
"No!" His grip on the gun faltered, his finger leaving the trigger. "I won't! You can't make me!"
The gun fell out of his grasp just as his knees gave out, causing him to drop to the ground. Joy was little compared to what he felt. He had gone against the orders; he hadn't killed his brother. Aris was safe and sound.
Or so he foolishly thought, until a gunshot made its presence known, followed by the obvious hit of a body colliding against the marble floor.
"No!" William's eyes snapped open, being welcomed to reality by his ragged breaths, and a hand grasping his shoulder.
Without having to look, he knew who it was. The dim moonlight and the fire, faint, but still lasting despite the passage of time, let him have a somewhat clear sight of Newt's face. The boy's eyes were wide open, staring at him with worry.
"Hey, it's OK. you're fine. It was just a nightmare …" Newt assured him countless times.
"Newt," William muttered under his breath. With the boy's help, he sat up, his hands clinging onto Newt's jacket like a lifeline. "I—I …"
"It's alright," Newt said quickly, bringing William closer to soothe him. "You're safe. It's only a nightmare."
"A nightmare?" choked out William, barely keeping himself from giving in to a panic attack by copying Newt's somewhat paused breathing. "Yeah … yeah, it had to be one."
Silence filled the air. William could hear the creaking of the wood in the fire, the ashes slowly drifting to the ground, almost like a dance, and everyone's pace and calm breathing. Newt's comforting whispers broke it every so often, trying to get any reaction from William, who was still clinging onto his jacket while staring at Aris to make sure his brother was still alive by his side.
The passage of time soon became irrelevant. They only noticed the fire, slowly becoming dimmer. Fortunately, the night wasn't cold enough to revive. Otherwise, they would have been forced to attempt all kinds of ways to get out of the centre of the sleeping formation to get wood, only to get back with their hands full. And who knew? Maybe someone would have moved in their sleep and blocked their path.
"What if we don't find The Right Arm?" The words flew out of William's mouth before he could stop them.
He couldn't take the rebel army out of his mind, despite how many other challenges and obstacles appeared in his way. One thing was thinking about what his team would do after entrusting Group A and Aris to the Right Arm, and another completely different was the slow realisation he was having. What if they didn't find the Right Arm? What if they run out of food and water before being anywhere near?
Newt stared directly into his eyes, not budging or looking away for a second as he answered, "We'll find them. I trust Tommy and Minho. We all do."
William glanced at the sky, trying to find comfort in the countless glowing stars. "I trust them, too. But we need to have a Plan B."
"I think Mae is ahead of you." Newt watched the stars with him as he added. "When you were on the hill with Aris, she was talking with Minho. Pretty sure they were coming up with other ideas."
"And they left Tommy out of it?" William glanced at Newt with a smile. "How cruel."
"Tommy was focused on blaming himself for taking us out here." Newt showed him the same comforting smile back, before driving his attention back to his friend, sleeping peacefully next to Chuck. "Had to give him a buggin' pep talk to get him back to thinking straight."
"Well, at least he can," a shaky snigger left his lips as his eyes travelled from Thomas to Newt, who had his eyes still on the two boys.
William took his hand off Newt's jacket. He didn't want to, but it was for the best. His raging heart would have to get used to letting the boy go at some point. And the sooner it was, the easier it would be to cope with the heartache after disappearing.
"Feeling better?" Newt asked, his attention back to William, who nodded. "You want to go back to sleep?"
With a soft shake of his head, William replied, "no, I'll stay up a little longer. You can go ahead."
He watched Newt clearly doubt whether to go back to sleep or not, but a yawn made him realise that perhaps some sleep wouldn't be so bad. Before he could lie back down, William called his name in a low, yet caring tone, making Newt glance at him expectantly.
"Sorry that I woke you up," William said. "And thanks for everything."
"Um, well, you didn't wake me up, so don't worry about that," Newt replied, propelling himself on one arm as he lay down with his backpack prepared to become a pillow. "And you don't have to thank me for anything. I should be the one to thank you for saving Chuck."
"No need." William smiled at the boy, watching Newt finally resting his head on his temporary pillow. "Goodnight, Newt."
"Goodnight, Liam."
He stayed staring at the darkness of the desert for as long as his daze permitted him. His head hurt with every thought that ran rampant in his mind. Had he been thrown into a position where he would have to choose? If they did find the Right Arm, would he have to decide whether to leave with his group or stay with Aris and the others? The excuse that they couldn't remember him no longer worked. Aris remembered him. His brother knew exactly who he was and what he had done until that day.
If I hadn't remembered, if I hadn't convinced them, we would have betrayed Aris . . . I would have sent my brother, Newt, and my friends back to WICKED. He thought while scratching the inside of his pockets.
His eyes threatened to water, but he refused. His reason brought back the piece of information he needed to make his resolution stand tall above his feelings. The Right Arm didn't accept Non-Immunes, much less those from a WICKED's group, whose principal job was finding the organisation to allow WICKED to take them down. Even if Newt was a Non-Immune himself, as long as he was surrounded by Immunes, no one would ever find out, as he would never get the Flare.
Needing to be alone, William got up to leave the centre of the sleeping arrangement. He was endlessly careful not to step on anyone, nor make any alarming sounds. It wouldn't be good if anyone got startled because of him, much less anyone in his team. They were all asleep, some with their heads on their backpacks, others on top of each other, but he knew it wouldn't take much to wake them up. A simple potential threat and all seven would be on their feet with a knife in their hands.
Far from the fire, the chilly breeze made its presence known deep in his bones. William pulled his jacket closer to his body, turning in many directions to make sure no threat or Crank was near before sitting down. It was peaceful. Nothing but ruins, sand, and quietness. At one point, he thought he had seen shadows lurking, but it was only Thomas leaving the sleeping ground and blocking the light coming from the fire.
"Everything alright, Tommy?" asked William while Thomas placed a hand on his shoulder for support to sit down next to him.
"Can't sleep," replied Thomas, his eyes lowering to the sand. "Why are you following me, Liam? You're helping us so much … You saved Chuck, you shanks stayed behind with Winston, and you—"
"Thomas," said William in a serious tone, not letting his friend continue with his rambling. "You saved me from the Sanctuary."
"Yeah, because of pure shuckin' luck …" Thomas gripped his hands together over his lap. "I was too focused on finding Teresa. If you hadn't been with her, I don't know if we would have had the time to go look for you."
"And what?" William asked. "You want me to blame you for acting like a leader for once? Thomas, I know your slogan is 'no man left behind', but, let's be realistic, sometimes, there are people that have to be left behind for the good of the team—"
"No, I can't. You saved Chuck, I—"
"Because I wanted to!" William snapped, surprising himself and Thomas. His eyes checked on the others quickly, making sure he hadn't startled anyone. Seeing no one awake, he continued to talk, this time calmer. "Thomas, you don't owe me for something I did out of my own will. Look, if you had left me behind, I would have understood, alright? I wouldn't have blamed you, my te—friends … or anyone else … Actually, promise me something."
"What?" Thomas questioned, more nervous than actually curious at the sudden promise.
"If it comes to it, leave me behind—"
"No—"
"Goddam—dart it, Thomas." William had to breathe in and out to calm his nerves, which were making him lose progressively his rationality. "You're not the only one who cares about them, alright? I want them to be safe as much as you; all of them. So, if we get to a point where it's saving my life or keeping everyone safe, you better choose the last one. I won't let anybody risk their lives for me."
"What if they want to?" Thomas let his hand fall to his lap, relaxing visibly as his eyes sneaked a glance at Newt and Mae. "I might be leading, but do you really think Mae or Newt would ever forgive me or themselves if we let that happen?"
"You know both of them would pull themselves together pretty quickly. Mae's a born leader, and Newt is … well, the glue." William chuckled softly, his eyes raising to meet Thomas's. "Life moves on, Thomas. Nobody's death, or disappearance, can change that. That's why I want you to keep everyone moving forward. It doesn't matter what happens."
Thomas huffed, giving up on ever winning the discussion. "Alright, but I can't make any promises."
"That's good enough for now." William nodded, smiling at his friend. "Now, after this very depressing talk, tell me, why can't you sleep? Let your … What are we? Cousins? I mean, if Newt and Minho are your parents, and Flor and Mae are mine … what the hell are we?"
Thomas raised his head and locked eyes with William, a genuine smile forming involuntarily on his face as his hand landed on William's shoulder. "Friends, that's what we are, Liam."
"Sounds good to me," William said. "But you're still like a little brother to me."
"You know I'm probably older than you, right?" Thomas said, causing William to chuckle.
"You know I don't bloody care, right?" He got up, a yawn escaping his lips as he pointed towards the shelter. "I'm going back. My body is begging me to get some sleep. What about you, leader?"
Thomas shook his head with a soft laugh as he got up, walking back with him to the rest, who were peacefully sleeping around the fire. Thomas went back to his backpack, which was left between Chuck and Minho, while William went to his own between Newt and Aris.
"Goodnight, Tommy."
"Goodnight, Liam."
William drifted off to sleep almost immediately. His eyes and mind felt heavy, though they quickly lightened with the rest of his body. It was like being in a cloud, except clouds couldn't grip someone's arms and shake them mercilessly.
"Five, please. Please, don't. I swear I'm not dangerous. Five, please!" A girl's pleas drove his attention back to the scene right in front of him.
The girl was dressed in military attire, like that boy, Two, when they were younger. However, contrary to him, part of her shirt was torn, showing a nasty bite on her neck. She was infected. She would become a Crank. And there he was, with at least twenty more people. A gun pointed directly at her forehead, perfectly still, letting the girl shake him all she wanted.
"Five, please. We all know why you got sent to Probation. You can go against the orders. Don't do it, please. Please. Please!" Tears streamed down her eyes, dirtying her already dirt-stained cheeks. "Five . . . William. William, please. Don't do it. Please, William, plea—"
The sound of a gunshot resonated in the air, closely followed by a loud thud coming from the girl's corpse as she landed on the ground. Her face was hidden, but he still could see her eyes piercing his soul, and her ragged voice, begging and shaky.
It all stopped in a second. His sight blackened. He could no longer hear a thing. His senses had stopped working altogether. Once again, he felt like he was floating in an empty cloud.
Then a light blinded him.
"Liam, it's OK. You're safe. It's just another nightmare."
William opened his eyes to reality, having to take quick, shallow breaths to provide his starved lungs with oxygen. His hand landed on his heart, gripping his jumper to make himself feel better.
"Newt?" William asked, seeing the boy kneeling down next to him, a hand on his hair and the other on his shoulder. "What . . .? Again? Did I wake you up?"
"Worry about yourself first, will you?" said Newt. "Have you always had these buggin' nightmares?"
"Um, sometimes. These past few days have just been pretty bad." William propelled himself on his elbow, glancing behind him to the rest.
Everyone was still sleeping, though the sun was slowly peeking over the horizon. Only he and Newt were awake. Some were tossing and turning in their sleep, as if they were close to waking up too, but were trying to fight against it.
"Should we be up? How long until we pick our things and leave?" he asked, watching Newt lay down next to him.
"Not sure. Maybe an hour or two," Newt replied. "I can't go back to sleep anyway, so I'll just wait."
"I'll wait with you—"
William felt his eyes and mind clouding, which took him aback. He pressed his hand against his forehead while lying down, resting his head on his backpack. Strange, rather violent, ideas popped up in his mind.
"Liam, are you OK?"
The words echoed endlessly, as if the voice came from all places at once.
"Liam?"
"Um. Yeah, just a little shaken up. It must be the whole nightmare thing." He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to get himself to tune back to reality. "Just give me a minute."
"It's OK," Newt said. "Just copy how I breathe, alright?."
William followed instructions, repeating Newt's paused and loud breathings as he counted from one to five in his mind as he, accomplishing to calm down bit by bit. The blurriness left his vision and mind, stopping confusion, fear, and anger from controlling him. The sting at the back of his neck didn't bother him at the moment. If anything, it helped him regain his sense of what was real and what was not.
"I'm fine," he said in a low tone, more to himself than Newt. "I'm OK."