black veil ◦ scorch trials || thomas

22.

     None of them spoke for a moment. Evan eyed the gun, fingers twitching, while Jorge and Brenda wordlessly contemplated what to do before coming to a conclusion. The older man let out a deep breath and glanced at Brenda, at Evanna. He nodded.

     "Good luck, kid," he murmured, tugging at Brenda's sleeve and gently squeezing Evan's shoulder. "We have to go. Come on. Let's go, come on."

     The two stood up hesitantly, reluctantly. Evan shrugged off Jorge's hand, her eyes still on the gun. Brenda said her name in confusion. She could feel Thomas' glare on the side of her face. She ignored it for now.

     "I'm not leaving them either," she said quietly. She hated how fragile she sounded then. "I promised I would get them out alive. I'm not about to break it to save my own life."

     "They'll punish you after what you did, Evanna," Jorge hissed. "if not kill you."

     Evan's head shot up, eyes determined and ablaze as she looked at Jorge. "I made Winston a promise, and I intend to keep it."

     "We're not leaving without you," Brenda said. Evan said nothing.

     Letting out a deep breath, Jorge tugged at the brunette's arm, pulling her away. She protested for a moment, and then noticed the look in Evan's eyes. She stopped and simply followed Jorge.

     "You're crazy," Thomas mumbled, shaking his head.

     Evan rolled her eyes and reached out for the gun after making sure the coast was clear. She checked the chamber and found four bullets inside. She clicked off the safety and loaded it. She took slight satisfaction at how Thomas startled at the noise.

     "You even know how to use that thing?" he asked somewhat condescendingly.

     Arching her eyebrow, Evan glared at him and pushed herself up. "Did you forgot who told you how to load a gun back at WICKED?"

     "We wouldn't be in this mess if it wasn't for you," Thomas bit back.

     Evan snorted and shook her head in dry amusement. "You're stone-blind, Thomas, stone-blind."

     A search light flew over them briefly, missing them by just an inch. Evan ducked away from the light. She frowned when she found Thomas looking at her. Or rather, the top of her head. He held up his hand, as if reaching out for her. But then he blinked and let his hand fall.

     "What?" the girl asked as she held her hand up to her head. Something warm trickled down the side of her face.

     "You're bleeding," he said, tilting his head. "Did you fall on your way here or something?"

     Evan's frown deepened, and when she pulled her hand back, her fingers held drops of crimson red. Had she fallen? Had she been so panicked and frantic to find Brenda and Jorge that she had completely forgotten she had taken a blow to the head?

     And then the quarter dropped, and Evanna shook her head at Thomas. "Didn't fall," she murmured, turning away from him. "Got pushed."

     She missed his realisation and the crack in his facade. She missed the guilt in his eyes. Though even if she hadn't, she would have dismissed it all the same. Because Thomas was being an impulsive dickhead and she really couldn't be bothered to deal with it at the moment.

     She had promised Winston. Promised him that she would get Frypan and the others out of the Scorch, and she'll be damned if she broke it. Evan was going to get them out. All of them.

     Standing up, Evanna stuffed the small gun in a pocket of her cargo pants. She moved carefully, going from boxes and supplies to anything that shielded her and hid her from sight. Her name was called by Thomas but she didn't respond.