Run With Me ➵ Newt [2]

THIRTEEN | wicked attacks

Out of my peripherals, I saw Thomas come out of the big tent, where I assumed was where Brenda was being treated, and watched as Jorge hugged him. They exchanged a few words, then Jorge went into the tent while Thomas trekked his way through the camp to us. He climbed up the hill and sat next to us, gazing out into the distance with a wistful expression.

"Wish Alby could see this," Newt said quietly.

"And Winston," Frypan said.

"And Jeff," I added.

Thomas fiddled with a small, wooden toy in his hands, his eyes full of sadness. "And Chuck," he whispered.

"He'd be proud of you, you know, Tommy," Newt said, giving him a sideways glance.

Thomas sighed. "Yeah," he muttered. "I just wish all our friends could be here with us."

"They'll forever be in our memories," I said gently, smiling at him. "Whatever happens, we'll do anything in our power to remember them as they are."

"Unless WICKED wipes our memories again..." Minho muttered.

"Great bloody way to kill the mood, Minho," Newt said, rolling his eyes.

Frypan looked down from the hill and waved to someone below. "Hey, Aris! Hey, Felix!" He shouted.

The sandy-haired boys glanced up, spotted us and waved back.

"Hey guys!" Aris called back up to us, smiling widely.

Frypan turned to us with an amused smile. "I kinda like those kids."

"Yeah... still don't trust them though." Minho said. He smirked, and we stifled laughter, smiles on our faces. It was such a Minho thing to say that we couldn't help but chuckle along.

"Hey, where's Teresa?" Thomas asked.

"Somewhere up there."

Newt gestured to the hillside next to us, where a cliff hung precariously from the side of a mountain. A figure stood at the edge, her dark, wavy hair blowing in the wind, silhouetted against the darkening sky.

"I'm gonna go talk to her," Thomas said, and he got up and climbed up the rocky hill to her.

It was getting dark now. The sun's head peeked out from the grassy lands in the distance - and then it was gone. The last rays of sunlight beamed through the sky, casting yellows and pinks over the blues and greys of the clouds.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Newt muttered to me. He, too, was staring at the horizon, his warm brown eyes like honey gold in the fading light.

"Yeah. I've never seen a sunset before. Looks prettier than I'd imagined."

Newt turned his head around and smiled at me. "I'm glad I get to watch it with you," he said shyly.