Born Again

Chapter eighty seven

Finding Newt proved easier said than done.

   First, it took a long time for Thomas to cross town to even get to the abandoned highway.

   Then, he realized, highways are long.

   Very long.

   So he walked a mile or two before coming across several cars driving in circles around each other.

   After nearly getting hit a dozen times, Thomas continued walking for another mile before he spotted his friend in the distance.

   At least, he hoped it was his friend. The boy was sat in the middle of the road, facing away from Thomas. His back was slouched and his body seemed to be shaking with sobs.

   As Thomas approached, the familiar blonde hair and dirty white hoodie his friend always wore made it obvious.

   It was Newt.

   As soon as Thomas was a twenty feet away, Newt glanced over his shoulder, staring directly at him with empty, emotionless eyes.

   He continued to stare until Thomas had halved the distance. Then he turned around again, seeming to completely ignore his presence.

   Thomas took a deep breath before starting the words from his dream. This was his last chance to save his friend, to convince Newt to break the dreams so he could save him.

   If it didn't work, his friend would die.

   "Hey. Newt," Thomas said, stopping a few yards away. "It's me, Thomas. You still remember me, right?"

   Newt didn't turn around as he answered. "I bloody remember you, Tommy. You just came to see me at my house, rubbed it in that you won't change the dreams."

   There! Thomas thought. That's my opening to say something different.

   "That's the thing Newt," he explained, taking a few careful steps closer. "I can't change them. Even if I try. But you can. You're the only one who has the power to make things different. You see if we—"

   Newt stood up, cutting him off. He turned around slowly to reveal a gun in his shaking hands. Thankfully, it was pointed at the ground for the time being.

   "Get out of here, Tommy," he said. "I don't want to hear another word about those shuck dreams. Get away."

   "Just come with me," Thomas begged. "I promise I can make you feel better."

   Newt glared at him for a few seconds before turning around and walking away.

   "Leave, Tommy," he said. "I'm trying to do you a favor. If I can really change the dreams, then I'll shoot myself in the head so you don't have to. It's the best way for all of us."

Thomas sprinted to catch up, stopping in front of his friend so he had to stop as well.

"Newt," he said. "I think I know how to cure you. But I need your help."

Newt's whole body started trembling with rage but he managed to keep his voice relatively steady.

"Leave," he begged. "There's no cure, Tommy. None. Now go before I hurt you."

He tried to brush past but Thomas grabbed the older boy's arm.

"You can't leave," he stated, keeping a firm grip. "I'm not going to lose you, Newt. Not in real life."

Suddenly, Newt's fury broke loose and he twisted around, tackling Thomas to the floor before pinning him down.

"I was trying to help you," the infected boy spat. "Keep you from the pain of killing me in real life. But no. It's always about the dreams for you. They just have to stay accurate. I hate you, Tommy! I've always hated you!"

He doesn't mean it, Thomas told himself firmly, wishing he could believe it.

"Newt . . ." He started, trying to squirm free.

"It's all your fault!" Newt screamed, tightening his grip on Thomas' wrists. "You could've stopped the dreams a long time ago. You could've figured out a way! But no! You had to keep going, follow the dreams, keep them accurate!"

"Newt. just listen to me," Thomas said, unsure if he was even quoting or not. "I know you're okay enough to hear me out—"

"There's nothing to 'hear out'," the blonde interrupted. "After all I did for you, after all the little things I changed about the dreams to make your life better, you can't even change the one and only thing I've ever asked you to do!"

"Newt, you need to stop!" Thomas yelled. They're going to shoot you, he remembered from the dreams. I can change that. "I promise I can help you. You just need to change this and let me explain. I can help you."

"I should just shoot you now," Newt whispered harshly, glancing at the gun that had called a few inches away. "Will that be enough change for you?"

"Newt—"

Suddenly, Newt lifted Thomas' wrist and picked up the gun, shoving it into his hand. Then, quick as lightning, he pushed the end of the pistol against his own forehead.

"You have to follow the dreams?" Newt asked, his voice barely louder than a whisper. "You can't change them?"

Thomas shook his head, his heart pounding in his chest as tears threatened to spill. He couldn't shoot Newt. He couldn't kill his best friend. "I can't," he replied. "I've never been able to. But you can, Newt. Please. Stop. I can help you."

Newt closed his eyes and a single tear fell down his face. "Kill me," he whispered.

"I can't," Thomas automatically said.

"If you have to follow those shuck dreams," Newt said, his voice still quiet. "You're going to."

"I . . ."

Then he looked up again, staring Thomas dead in the eye with a look of regret as he spoke.

"Please, Tommy. Please."