𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠'𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞- 𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐭, 𝐭𝐦𝐫

chapter 49- paintball guns

Trigger warnings- very brief mention of a suicide attempt, small amount of spice

Chapter 49- paintball guns

National Anthem- Lana Del Rey

Raine’s POV-

I stand at the edge of the box with Newt, Minho, Alby, and about thirty other Gladers, all waiting for our weekly supplies. Newt’s hand is resting around my waist, and I lean my head against his shoulder, blushing furiously when he places a kiss to the top of my head. Minho nudges me and makes kissing noises, his hands making a heart shape. I lift my head, kicking him in the shin, and he lets out a yelp, stumbling into Alby. Newt looks over, frowning in confusion. “What happened, love?”

“Minho.” I reply simply, because it doesn’t require much more of an explanation. Newt nods knowingly, flashing one of those adorable smiles at me, and I return my head to its original position on his shoulder.

The clicking gears of the Box startle us, and I notice several Gladers jump slightly, shifting on their feet. The noise gradually increases in volume, until the Box arrives with a grating of metal. I stir, lifting my head again, but staying by Newt’s side as Minho and Alby lift the doors of the Box. Minho jumps down, a metallic clang following as he lands on the strong mesh of the floor of the Box. I hear him rummaging through the supplies, passing the occasional box up to Alby, before he lets out a confused exclamation. “What the shuck is this?” He holds up an object that resembles a gun, but it doesn’t look quite right.

Minho passes a large crate full of the same ‘guns’ up to Alby, before scrambling out of the Box and standing in front of us turning the object over in his hands. He looks down the barrel of the ‘gun’, before holding it out in front of him. His finger hovers over the trigger for a split second, before he aims it to the sky and fires. I tense, expecting some sort of explosion, but neon green paint is shot up into the sky. I follow it with my eyes, and gasp a sharp intake of breath when I realise where it is going to land. The paint splats on an unsuspecting Gally, dyeing a circular area of his hair green. Newt smirks as Gally lifts a hand to his head slowly, bringing it away covered in neon green paint. His eyebrows dive into a frown, before an amused smile makes its way onto his face. “I guess it’s a paintball gun then.” Gally says, rubbing his crooked nose, smearing green paint across his face. Minho giggles sheepishly. Alby sighs before addressing the crowd of Gladers. “Anyone who wants to play, stay here, if you don’t, then get back to your jobs, shuckfaces.”

“Play?” A voice pipes up from the crowd.

“Capture the flag. With the paintball guns.” Alby says, and an expression that I rarely see him display makes its way onto his face. He looks around at the group of about twenty Gladers, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

He explains the rules quickly: There will be two teams, and they will each have a flag at opposite ends of the Deadheads. The teams must attempt to steal the opposing team’s flag, however they will try to be stopped. If they get shot with the other team’s colour paintball, they have been captured, and will be taken prisoner by the other team. They cannot rejoin the game. The team that manages to take their enemies’ flag and return it to sit side by side with their own flag wins.

“Alright, shanks, Minho’s leading one team, Newt’s leading the other. They’ll take turns chosin’ each of you until the teams are fully formed. Then we’ll go to the Deadheads.” Alby turns and gestures to the forest behind him.

“I’ll start!” Minho smirks. “I want Raine on my team.”

Newt’s face darkens, and he glares at Minho. “Not fair!”

“You both sound like you’re five years old!,” I say, and, noticing Newt’s crestfallen look, run over and hug him tightly. He relaxes into my touch, and we stay like that for a moment, before I pull away to whisper in his ear. “I have to go now, Lizard, but let’s make a bet. Whoever loses has to draw a moustache on Gally while he’s asleep.”