The Storm: Chapter Nine

Dawn broke on the horizon. Streaks of golden light shooting across the dark sky. Long shadows cast themselves on the ground covering the sleeping Gladers in darkness.

The more that I came to life, the more I remembered where I was and why.

I woke in a cocoon of Newt, his arms still perched on my stomach. In the few hours I had managed to catch some sleep, he hadn't moved an inch. Shame sunk in. He hadn't needed to stay still to let me sleep. He had all rights to leave me wallowing in my own pain. Yet, he decided not to. He did care.

My stirring must have awoken Newt. One moment he was asleep with his head resting on top of mine, the next he was removing his arms to slowly lift us until we were seated upright.

"How you feelin'?" he asked.

"Better," I lied. "I didn't keep you up all night with my cough, did I?"

"Don't worry about me." He peeled himself off me and strode towards where Frypan was resting. He walked past the sleeping figure and disappeared beyond the rocks.

I waited for his return. Stiffness had set itself deep in my bones and I feared without help I would break even more. I didn't have to wait for long. He returned shortly and saw the displeasure in my face. He helped me up from the ground, and guided me away from the other Gladers around a cluster of large rocks.

"Thank you. You can go, I'll get back." He avoided my eyeline and walked away.

I travelled a few metres further to a large mass of bushes. I spent some time there, then hobbled back to camp to find the rest of the Gladers waking up. The sun was now peaking at the horizon, daring itself to break.

I found Newt sat with the half-awake Frypan and Minho. Each had a can in their hand, polishing off the contents inside with record speed. Just like Jamie. My heart panged.

"Clarke, come sit and eat with us," Frypan said through mouthfuls. I nodded my head and joined them. Newt rose from his seat but I waved my hand to stop him. I had to do this by myself. After all, I was going to leave once I had eaten.

Newt passed me an open can with a small fork sticking out of it. I mumbled a thank you and started to eat. My stomach growled for the food. Yet every bite I took made me feel sick to the bone. There was no way I could not eat the food. Newt was eyeing me. So I forced each mouthful down, disregarding the feeling of nausea each time. He wouldn't let me leave if I hadn't eaten.

"So," Frypan started. "How'd you end up not dead?"

"Dunno," I uttered into my can. "Been trying to figure that one out."

Frypan shoved another spoonful into his mouth. "It's wild, I'll tell ya."

"How so?"

"Well, everyone else that was taken died. Yet WICKED kept you alive. Don't you think there must have been a reason for it. Why they're so adamant on lettin' your heart tick along?"

"I'm not sure if they really want me alive," I stated. "I've had my fair share of near-death experiences. That tells me more that they want me in a grave."

Newt slammed his can to the ground in frustration, scaring the life out of me, Frypan and Minho. He swept the hair from his face and looked me in the eye. "You ain't endin' in a grave. I'll make sure of that."

Minho and Frypan glanced at one another, worry written across both their faces. This didn't seem to be a normal occurrence from the way that they looked at one another. I had never seen him act with such intention before. I nodded at Newt, thanking him for the protection and bowed my head. The others carried on eating in silence avoiding any more topic about me and my entanglement with WICKED.

Whilst I waited for the others to finish, I scanned the remaining Gladers. Clint was the only person I knew by name. The others were just face's that I recognised. Furthest sat away from everyone was the two Cranks, Jorge and Brenda. In the light, I saw her face. Brenda was pretty, with long dark hair that had been pulled back into a tight ponytail. She was hunched near to Jorge, them both conversing amongst each other. She briefly looked up and caught my eye. I snatched it away.

I stared into the contents of my can instead. The surface of the food had barely been touched, the sight of the mulch making my stomach churn. I settled the can down beside me, noting to sneak it into my pack of later.

Once Newt had scrapped the bottom of his can clean, he signalled for Clint. The Med-Jack jumped up and trotted over. He placed one knee down alongside me and inspected the extent of my injuries. Clint took in every cut and bruise that was visible, lingering for no longer than necessary, ending on the bite mark on my arm.

"How'd you get that?" Clint asked as he delicately touched the outline.

"An unfortunate Crank." I shrugged and pulled my arm away from him. I tugged the end of my sleeve lower to hide it from sight.

"Unfortunate how?" he probed.

"Dead."

Clint eyed me, deciding whether or not he could believe me. I was a girl of surprises.

"'kay," he came back with. "Strung up like a Griever?"

"No." My blunt reply stunned him. He possibly was waiting for a snarky reply and a smile with it. I didn't have the energy to think of one.

"Can I?" He motioned to me chest area. I nodded and grimaced at the touch of his hands lightly probing me. Newt shot him a warning stare when I yelped in pain. Clint quickly retracted his hands and held them behind his back. Even he didn't want to test Newt.

"Well, I'm no expert. But there is damage in your chest. I think you've done something to a rib."

"How could you break a rib?" Minho inquired.

"I didn't say broken," Clint cut in.

"Anyway," Minho dismissed. "How'd you do that?"

The moment flashed before my eyes. I blinked it away as fast as I could. That feeling, in my chest, it swelled and I had to stop it before it took over. I bit into my lower lip and lowered my head so they couldn't see the almost tears that glistened in my eyes. I simply state instead, "Fell over."

"Ya can't just fall over and break somethin'," Minho scoffed. "What aren't you tellin' us?"

"Nothin'," I squeaked. I didn't want them to know that I had fallen off a cliff again and the added detail that it was intended to end in my death. "Things happened and I fell. End of story."

I picked a frayed piece of fabric at the corner of my trouser pocket and avoided eye contact with the boys. They were persistent in their questioning, nothing got by them until they knew the whole truth. Right now, with my intention of leaving, I desperately wanted to make sure they knew as little as possible so that wouldn't stop me from going. If they knew the danger, my chances of winning a spot would slip from their grasp. The old man had said that consequences would occur if any of us harmed a member of Group A or B. I did not want to be in the firing line for letting that happen. For all our sakes, I had to go.

"To have that much pain, you'd need to have fallen far," Clint added. "Your bruises look fresh as well."

Clint was close to figuring out what happened. I looked up and saw on his face that he had connected the dots. I felt the colour drain from my face as I silently pleaded with him to not say another word. There was only hope if he understood what I wanted him to do. A line appeared between his brows at the sudden change in my demeanour. He opened his mouth and said, "Or, falling at an awkward angle can cause this as well."

Newt did not seem convinced. He was catching onto my deceptions. He raised an eyebrow, expecting me to elaborate. I ignored him.

"I can see that there is no infection in your bite mark, so that's a plus." Clint filled the air, moving the conversation away from how I ended up with a painful chest. "And bonus, your ankle is healed! Are you a superhuman?"

"I wish. It was fixed when I woke up in a room." That caught the attention of everyone.

"Fixed?" Clint queried.

"In a room?" Minho added from the side.

"I dunno how," I cut in before anyone could ask any further questions. "But it's fixed and hasn't been a problem since."

"Seems WICKED still wants you alive," Minho grumbled. I shot him a warning glance. Newt did not need to be pushed into anger again. Minho flicked the end of his fork in my direction, bits of food flying in the air in response.

"That girl with ya," Newt injected, changing the topic. "Who is she?"

"Her name is Lottie," I stated. "And she is the leader of Group C."

Minho indicated with his hands to carry on. I shook my head in reply. "It's a bit of a long and complicated story with Group C."

"We've got till the checkpoint to hear it."

"Checkpoint," I repeated. "Have WICKED promised you a cure as well?"

"Yeah, they said we had to make it there in so many days otherwise we get left behind."

"All of you get it," I breathed.

Minho raised his eyebrow at my reaction. "You goin' there as well?"

I nodded. I refrained from using words for I was scared that I would blurt out the truth.

"We can get there together then," Newt said. He looked directly at me expecting me to agree with him. When I didn't immediately agree with him, his eyebrows scrunched together. "You are gonna stay with us?"

"I-I-I…" I trailed off. This was not going to end well. The others were in danger, and I had to warn them. Bringing the Gladers into my Phase Two was not an option. I cleared my throat, stared straight into Newt's tantalising dark eyes and said, "I need to go and find the others."

I didn't wait for a response. I flicked my braid over my shoulder and drew myself up. Clint, at first, attempted to stop my from rising. But when I gave him a stern look, he gripped my elbows and helped me stand.

I shuffled to where my pack lay a few metres away and grabbed a hold of the strap. This time I lifted up of the ground, my chest screaming as I hooked my arms through and secured it on my shoulders. I screwed my eyes shut and breathed through my mouth the subside the pain. A few coughs erupted from my chest. Deep breaths were still out of the question, but little ones were still manageable.

Behind, there was an uproar.

Newt had not taken the news well.

"You can't just leave," he begged. Newt stormed to me and placed his hands on my shoulders firmly. "You are safer with us. We can help you to the checkpoint."

"I can't." I brushed Newt's hands from my shoulders and side step round him. "I need to go now." My voice was firm and strong, masking the tremble that threatened to expose how I really wanted to stay. I could not cry. I had to walk away. I had to leave.

"No." His eyes were alive. His voice no longer soft and pleading. I was being told what to do.

"No?"

"How will you find them?" he asked. "You don't even know where they are."

"It won't be hard to track them down." I stepped back again, keeping a distance between myself and Newt. My hands automatically rose from my side.

One smack, he'll forgive you.

"I need to save them," I pleaded with him.

"Why?" he roared.

I jumped back in surprise. He had never shouted at me before. Not even when I had disobeyed his orders countless times in the Glade. Something was wrong. His face was not the one I recognised. Anger dementated it. And it was my fault.

"They don't owe you anythin'. WICKED just put you with them as part of their experiments."

"Newt," I softly replied as I struggled to hold back tears. "This is not up for discussion. I am going. Do not follow me."

"I won't allow it."

Newt went for my arm, and I quickly snatched it away from him. In the same moment, Minho jumped into the space between Newt and I. He stuck out his hand to stop his friend from coming any further. Newt stopped dead in his tracks, hurt wrinkling in his eyes. I slapped Minho's hand away from me and pointed a finger straight in Newt's direction.

"Listen here." My voice was low and unnerved, something I did not recognise in myself. "I have coped very well so far. I am more than capable of looking after myself."

I glowered at him then continued. "I am not just some weak random girl that turned up one day in our Glade. I was a part of their group. I was one of their leaders. And now I, as a leader, must go protect them. That is what a leader does. They protect everyone, not lock them away and hope for the best. I am not a failed leader. Yet."

It was too far. I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. The anger had consumed that the words had willed themselves out of me. I had decided not to bring up that part until I knew we were safer. There was time to jab at him for what he did in the Glade. I hadn't meant to say it. The worse part of all was the hurt in his eyes.

I forced myself to look away and hung my head in shame. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"You are right, Clarke," Minho said. A silence engulfed the Gladers. I stared at him without blinking. Had Minho sided with me and not Newt?

Newt's jaw tensed, his lips tightening into anger. His eyebrows pulled closer together. So tight that vertical wrinkles appeared between them. "Why are you agreeing with her?"

Minho raised his arm up higher blocking him from coming anywhere near me.

"Newt, let her go," he warned. Newt's nostrils flared. "She needs to go help those in Group C. You can't stop her from doin' this. It ain't fair."

"Why are you agreein' with her?" Newt screamed. "You can barely walk two metres. You're gonna die on your own."

Newt took a warning step forward, his fist clenched at his side. Minho's head cocked as he caught what the Glader was doing. Minho readied himself for what Newt would do next. His shoulders had hunched up and his breathing became heavy. I sensed Clint standing just to the side of me. He too was preparing himself for what Newt would do next. The sight of the others standing in his way must have been a something to behold. They were willing to strain their relationship with Newt than let him stop me.

Minho inched forward trying not to antagonise Newt as he approached. Newt's gaze never left mine as the Runner blocked him further. Minho placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered just loud enough for me to head, "Look mate, whatever is happening we can't interfere. Let her go."

A very tense moment passed as the words sank into the golden-haired boy. His face screwed up as reason took a hold of his brain. Newt then shoved Minho away and kicked the ground in anger, sending particles of dust into the air, and stormed away.

I winced at the outburst. Maybe I should stay. Something clearly wasn't right here. Newt needed help. I understood his outburst. The anger I felt for him leaving me there in the Map Room was still scratching underneath my surface. I knew that bringing that up would enact a very large argument that I didn't want to start. However, what I hadn't realised until this moment, how much that choice had affected him. Possibly in his eyes, if he hadn't had left me there, I still would be with them now. He must think that it was his fault I was in this situation, and now that he has found me again, he needs to keep me by his side.

Unfortunately for him, more people relied on me now and I needed to make sure that I helped them.

Go find them.

Minho faced me, sorrow in his eyes. He reached out his arms and pulled me into a light hug. "I'm sorry Clarke. It shouldn't have gone like that."

"He's upset. Give him time, he'll calm down."

"I hope so. Ever since he saw you last, he's been desperate to find you. He just doesn't want to lose you again." Minho let go of me. A weak smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. "We'll see you soon enough anyway."

I dipped my head. Reality was I didn't even know if that would happen.

"Minho, I have to tell you something." I motioned for him to come closer. No one else could hear what I was about to say. They wouldn't keep the secret from him. I knew Minho would. He cared for Newt just as much as I did. "Only six from my group get the cure. There is currently nine still alive." I gestured with my head to Newt. "Don't tell him, please. It would make things worse."

Minho barely registered what I had told him when I took a step back and pronounced loudly, "See you shortly." He tried to reach out to me, hoping that he would stop me from leaving. I shook my head and turned on my heel. I had to leave, and now was right moment.

No one stopped me as I hobbled away. I held my head high as I passed each one. The tears threatened to fall, but I held them back long enough to round the head of the rock and disappear into the sun rise.

My path had been chosen. I hoped I didn't come to regret it.