Erratic // Thomas+Female OC & Newt+Male OC

Chapter Forty-One : I Hate That I Still Love You

TRIGGER WARNING - This chapter goes over sensitive topics involving child abuse, heavy violence, and drug and alcohol addiction. This one is intense

READ WITH CAUTION

MARCUS'S PLACE

DAY 5 BACK IN THE SCORCH

12:15 HOURS

Buck

   Eventually, after some time we were able to get out of the building in one piece. We didn't run into any more Cranks which was a relief because I was not prepared to deal with any of them. My shoulder hurt like a son of a bitch, but Thomas was able to make a makeshift sling out of tarp that was hanging on some of the old buildings. I insisted that I didn't need it but he didn't give me much of a choice, he just forced it on me and kissed my forehead for good measure.

My love.

He was quite the keeper.

   We were now walking through an alleyway of one of the abandoned cities, but this time it's inhabitants included healthy people. Or, at least, people who weren't infected with the Flare. Brenda eventually took a seat on the ground, her breaths heavy and labored. Me and Thomas stopped to turn to her and I noticed immediately how pale she was. She was sitting in the garbage of the broken world, taking out some bandages she had in her bag.

   "Shit." She whispered under her breath and I looked to Thomas with concern before turning back to look at Brenda.

   "Are you okay?" Thomas asked her while Brenda brought her hands down to her pant leg, lifting it up to just below her knee.

   My world just seemed to crumble right there as I looked down to her calf where a huge bite mark took up the majority of her skin. My mouth hung open slightly and my eyes widened at the sight of it. Instinctively, and I swear I didn't mean to, but I almost ripped out my gun and shot her right then and there. That's what I do.

That's what I'm supposed to do.

I've done it before.

But Winston was the first to survive me.

Brenda was the second.

   I wasn't sure how I was supposed to react to this. Brenda had been a very close friend to me since we were kids. We used to hang out together in the sand dunes, scale buildings together, hunt for food with one another. There's all kinds of shit I told her when we were younger that no other ears have heard. And now she just got a death sentence.

   "Brenda..." Thomas started but his sentence trailed off into silence.

   "Yeah yeah, I know." Brenda said and I took a deep breath, using my only free hand to run through my hair. "Let's just go find Marcus."

   She was right. I think I should have been crying and sobbing for my friend, but right now I wasn't. I knew the Right Arm had Mary and we had Immunes. Bliss could help. Get to Marcus, get my fucking car back, get to the Right Arm, help Brenda. I never thought those thoughts would ever cross my mind. I always hated that Bliss stuff, I thought it was a waste of time. I guess things change when it's the people you care about.

   We walked out into the streets only to see hundreds of starving, dirty, tired people roaming around. There were fires set in barrels across the side walks, women walking with their children, and abandoned cars being used as homes. All I could think about was how my car better not have been one of those.

   When my dad was alive, he used to joke around and say that his first ever child was his 1967 Chevy Impala. He treated that thing like it was God and Jorge used to make fun of it even though he had a precious car of his own. If you ask me, they were both dorks, but that's what I loved about them. Jorge hasn't changed much since then.