no regrets | harriet - tmr

chapter twenty-eight

(five months and thirty days in)

She was back in WCKD, finishing her daily jobs.

Why am I back here?

She hadn't seen her brother in a while - she was starting to miss him. Sighing, she trudged back to her bunk, ready to fall asleep the minute her head hit the pillow. Snuggling into her pajamas, she switched off her lamp, shuffling under the duvet. She breathed a sigh of relief as her warm cheeks came in contact with the cool pillow come.

Her eyes drooped more and more until they fully closed. But then she heard a scream.

Eyes snapping open, she bolted upwards, ready to through her duvet off, only to realise her duvet wasn't there. Her bed wasn't there either. She was lying on golden sand, no sign of life at all for miles and miles. Panicked, she leapt upwards, her feet feeling rough against the coarse sand particles. Her heart raced inside her chest as her eyes darted around, trying to find a glimpse of WCKD - or anyone for that matter.

I'm in the Scorch?

The sun was just setting - although she had no time to admire the beautiful swirls of colour - setting a clear path for her. She followed the golden stretch of yellow, hoping to the find someone.

"Hello?" she yelled, "Is anyone out there?"

And then she heard another scream. A scream that was so ear-splitting, a shiver went down her spine and her blood curdled at the sound. Her head whirled in any direction, trying to find the source of the shriek.

Her breath rapidly increased as she stumbled backwards until she collided with something solid. Spinning on her heel, she inhaled sharply, her eyes glistening with terror at what she saw. A crank.

Oh my god, no. Not again.

Being thrown back to reality, she immediately began running in the opposite direction of the crank as fast as her legs could carry her. As she did, she brushed her left hip, in expectation of feeling her scar. However, there was no sign of a scar or stitches there at all. Pushing the thought away she kept running. The deafening screeches rang in her ears, louder and louder as each second passed.

Throwing her head back, her eyes widened at not one crank chasing her - but dozens. Gasping, she urged herself to run faster.

Come on Bea. Faster.

Mentally willing herself to quicken her pace, her limbs began to ache. Her breathing was ragged and unsteady, as if she was about to collapse any minute. Turning her head round again, she saw the cranks had stopped chasing her causing her to skid to a halt. Bending downwards slightly, she placed both hands on her knees, trying to steady her breathing. Her eyes flashed towards the cranks that were huddled in a large circle.

Her curiosity overpowering her fear, she shakily walked over, making sure her footsteps quick and light to decrease the sound it would make against the sand. Once she was a few metres away, she stopped walking, peering in between the cranks. Gasping at the sight, she stumbled back in shock.

Mom?

She took a few steps forwards and the person inside the circle was indeed her mom. She was sprawled on the floor, the cranks eagerly looking at her.

"Mom!" Bea shouted out, hoping to gain her mother's attention but it didn't work it. She didn't hear her. And neither could the crank. "Mom! Hello? Can you here me?" It was like her voice was droned out so nobody could hear her at all.