𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗥𝗨𝗡𝗡𝗘𝗥 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟 ᐅ 𝙣𝙚𝙬𝙩

𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁

Just when I was going to ask a question? Twat. Newt grins over Zart in a thanks before turning back to me and proclaiming, "He's my saviour."

"May as well kiss his boots."

"I will for ridding me of you."

"I hate you."

"I'm well aware, Greenie. It's mutual, don't ya worry."

With one last glare at Newt, which he returns with yet another mocking smile, I trudge over to Zart, thankful that at least he will answer my questions. In fairness to Newt, being Second in Command and all, he must have to explain how the Glade works to every new Greenie, which no doubt must be as boring as it sounds.

"Need ya help, Greenie," Zart says as he hands me a shovel, which is deceivingly heavy.

"Are you sure you're not just getting me to do your dirty work?"

"No. You're a decent Track-hoe."

"Dunno if that's good or bad," I say as Zart points to a thin line drawn across the ground. I start to dig the trench like I've observed the other Track-hoes do the other day, pressing all of my weight down on the shovel before pulling it out of the soil and dump the access soil in a large rubber bucket.

"Depends on whether you want to be one or not," he states, grabbing another shovel and digging alongside me. "Speakin' of, what job do you want to do?"

"Got her stupid shuck head set on being a Runner," Newt pipes up from across the Gardens, still appearing completely concentrated on the plants he's potting.

"I never said that."

"You're jacked if ya think that's a good idea," Zart cuts in, eyeing me warily.

"I don't. I like the sound of being a Med-jack."

"Probably have shanks injuring themselves just so you could heal 'em."

"I don't know whether to say thanks or be concerned."

"The last one," Newt calls again, making the frustration bubbling below the surface start to boil. What was he playing at? Could I not have five minutes without hearing his sarcastic remarks?

"Aren't you meant to be enjoying my lack of company?" I snap.

He lifts his head and frowns at me before turning his attention back to his plants. "Good point... I'll get right back to it."

I roll my eyes, while Zart looks between the two of us, amusement glinting in his eyes before the both of us get back to digging. Apparently, being a Track-hoe mostly consists of digging trenches and doing the harder work around the Gardens, and so they're not needed as often. However, all of the Track-hoes are also Gardeners, so they do planting and sowing. My mind flicks back to the Grievers. Where do they go? Where are the bodies found? I doubt there's much point in asking Zart — he's a Track-hoe.

Excitement builds. But, he's also a Keeper. He's bound to know everything. But, before I can open my mouth to ask him, he speaks first.

"I don't think you're gentle enough to be a Med-jack." His statement is so out of the blue that I have no choice but to be offended.