Born Again

Chapter twenty three

Thomas quickly slipped on his shoes. He considered waking Newt or Minho but he didn't want to put him in any danger if something happened to Alby.

   Thomas had to do this alone.

   He walked out the already unzipped tent, wondering what could've happened.

   Did Griever get rabies and drag Alby out? How did Thomas not hear the commotion? Or maybe Alby was stung already. Maybe he—

   "Thomas?"

   Thomas jumped at the sudden noise, tripping over a root and falling flat on his face. He rolled over to see Alby standing above him.

   "What're you doing out here?" He asked, helping Thomas to his feet.

   "What are you doing out her?" Thomas countered. "You weren't in the tent. I was worried."

   "Sorry," Alby said. "I had to take Griever bathroom. He can't hold it past 4:00am."

  "Oh," Thomas said, suddenly feeling embarrassed but not wanting to leave Alby alone in the middle of the woods. "That makes sense."

   "Yeah . . ." Alby stared at him for a few seconds. "Aren't you going back to bed then?"

   "Um, yeah." Thomas didn't move.

   Before Alby could ask what the shuck was wrong with him, Thomas spoke up again. "Where's Griever?"

   Alby shrugged. "I dunno. He comes when I whistle though."

   "Really?"

   "Yeah. Watch." He put his fingers in his mouth, letting out a loud, piercing whistle.

   Griever came bounding out of the woods in all his gray shaggy glory. And he didn't slow down either. He ran straight at Thomas and knocked him to the ground, licking at his face.

   "Ack!" Thomas yelled, putting his hands up defensively. "Griever! Get off!"

  Alby laughed, calling Griever off. His dog obediently did what was asked and sat at his masters feet.

   "Sorry, Thomas," he said, still grinning. "But we should probably get to sleep now. We've got a long day ahead."

   "Yeah, we should," Thomas said, wiping his face as they walked back to the tent. "Anyway, sorry to bother you."

   "Don't be," Alby whispered, climbing into the tent. Everybody was still asleep. "Thanks for checking on me."

   "No problem," Thomas said as he pushed Newt over, getting back into bed. "Just trying to look out for you."

~~

Despite Thomas' constant worry, he had a lot of fun.

Alby's dad woke them early the next morning to fish for breakfast. Newt was surprisingly good at it, whereas the only thing Minho could catch was a bad mood. And trash that was thrown in the lake. Thomas and Alby couldn't stop laughing at his outrage.

   After they had breakfast (and Minho calmed down), the boys went swimming. The only problem was Thomas couldn't swim without arm floaters so he had to cling to Alby the whole time. Unfortunately, Newt and Minho thought it was important to photograph Thomas' embarrassment. Alby just laughed.

   Later, Alby's dad gave the four B.B. guns and told them to go shoot something. Minho interpreted that to mean shooting Thomas.

   Multiple times.

   Unfortunately, the only thing Thomas could hit was the floor so Minho got away with it every time.

   After dinner, Newt decided to take a nap so Thomas, Minho, and Alby attempted to rock climb the nearby cliff. At Thomas' suggestion, they used vines to help hold Alby as he climb. In the end, Thomas and Minho just let him hang as they pulled him up. When Newt found them, he scolded them for being stupid, saying they could cut off Alby's blood stream or something. They took Alby down after that and went to bed, exhausted.

The next day, Alby wanted to go on a hike. His dad said he could go alone but the other three immediately volunteered to go with him. Unfortunately, Griever went as well.

   They hiked through the foliage, no real path to follow. Minho trudged ahead, Alby close behind with his dog who was obediently staying by his master's side. Newt was having difficulty keeping up so Thomas stayed back with him.

   "So," Newt said after a few minutes of them just breathing heavily as they walked. "Have any dreams last night?"

   "A nightmare," Thomas admitted, not meeting his eyes. "But it wasn't about Alby so I don't think it matters?"

   "What was it about?" Newt asked, concerned. "You were mumbling and crying."

   Thomas shut his eyes, trying to forget.

   KILL ME!

   The nightmare always came back when he was stressed. And he was stressed about Alby.

   "Tommy?" Newt asked gently. "What was it?"
  
"Hey guys!" Minho yelled from up ahead, giving Thomas an excuse not to answer. "Come look!"

   Thomas ignored Newt's concerned gaze, jogging ahead. Minho and Alby were looking down the small hill a lone wolf, lying in the sun. Alby was holding an excited Griever by his color, keeping him down.

   "That's amazing," Newt said when he caught up. He pulled out his phone and snapped a few pictures.

   "Newt," Minho said. "Let's take a selfie."

   "What are we, white girls?" Newt asked, but positioned himself for a picture with Minho anyway.

   "Send that to me," Minho told him.

   "Me too," Alby agreed. "Actually, just send all the pictures you guys take. I'll send mine too."

   "Will do—hey! He's awake," Newt pointed.

   The wolves ears perked up and he sniffed the air. When his eyes landed on the boys and he stood, giving a warning growl.

   Alby paled. "Maybe I should . . ."

   "No!" Thomas yelled, making the wolf bark defensively.

   "Thomas," Minho whispered, shooting him a panicked glare. "Shh!"

   "Alby, don't," Thomas pleaded. "We'll get out of here. It'll be fine."

   Alby gave him a confused look, pulling something out of his pocket. A leash. "I was just going to put this on Griever."

   Thomas looked at the dog. He was standing, baring his teeth slightly. He glowered at the wolf.

   "You mean you weren't going to sacrifice yourself so we could get away?" Thomas asked.

   "No, of course not," Alby answered, taking a step away from the still growling wolf. "But we should go."

   "Yeah," Newt agreed. "Let's—"

   He was interrupted by more growling from behind them.

   Thomas turned around to see dozens of wolves emerge from the bushes.

   Of course. Wolves stay in packs.