CH. EIGHT
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Though Gally's an annoying idiot, it does kind of hurt her that after the discovery they both see the same things, he started to act colder than Fry's fridge.
Barks at her she's doing it wrong, snaps insults, gives her nasty glares when she passes him, hisses when she fails to carve something... and all that multiplied her hate for him a million times.
He has no reason to be this upset about that little thing, and especially not to go act like this.
But at least it's been seven days, with the previous two as hell, and the Box came up this morning. She quickly gathered all the things that belonged to her and spread them over the floor of Newt's hut, mentally apologizing for ruining the clean thing.
Clothes and a small box, which she opens quickly. A razor, hairbrush, hair ties, conditioner, deodorant, and a little package. She opens the package, curious and hesitant at once.
A note is the first thing to fall out of it. She picks it up. Reads the sloppy handwriting.
Joan,
I begged them to get you this instead of products. Trust me, it'll be easier and I assure it won't ruin anything once you stop taking them. AKA, don't take these and you'll just have your period like usually. They're not dangerous, just helpful.
- T
She takes the pills in her hand. Not dangerous? So once they escape the Maze and she stops taking them for any reasons, like wanting kids, her period will just come back? It better.
Alright. She'll take them, since this 'T' said they're not dangerous and won't ruin her patterns.
Grateful, she puts the stuff back in the box. The clothes she got are casual. Some long-sleeved shirts with buttons on the top, just like most boys here have. Cargo pants with a lot of pockets, nice. One thicker sweater, one pair of shorts, and a T-shirt.
It's really not that bad.
❀
"Hey." Randomly, Newt joins her on the tree trunk.
She's been practicing with carving again. It's going better now, except Gally was moody and left before she could show him the process. She doesn't really mind, though. His presence was annoying anyways.
"We better get you a chair or somethin' sometime. Your back must be killing ya," Newt says, smiling. "Looking good, by the way."
"Thank you." She lets go of a breath. "What's up? Got everything handled?"
"Mhm. Peaceful and well. I'm just checking up. I mean, not nothin' to be locked up as the only girl between bloody boys, some of 'em dirty."
She shrugs. "I'll manage. Try not to overthink it too much."
All that trying has lead to less hours of sleeping. The fear she had in the Box, of the boys, never really left. It got less because she knows they're not perverts, but she has a hard time trusting them, still.
Also because most here never talk about their feelings. Not to her, at least. So she won't talk to them about hers either.
"Well, I'm always here if you need help," he promises. "Is my hut alright to sleep in?"
"It's perfect. Thank you for that, by the way."
He nods. "No big deal. Sorry if Minho ever comes knocking in the middle of the night. He has the habit of doin' that."
She perks up. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Newt laughs. "I don't think he's going to be happy with me spilling this..." he leans closer as he looks around. "...but Minho loves a good story before he goes to bed. Or the 'you scratch my back as I scratch yours' or 'together we cry because it's been a bad day'."
Those words comfort her. They have an awesome friendship, turns out. And they dare to cry in front of each other, which is great. Didn't expect that from Minho, but as mentioned, it's the confident ones.
"That sounds great," she says, her tone lighter.
"It is. So, finding yourself in this place?"
Joan shrugs. "I've got to toughen up. Everything that's been happening bottles up inside me, and when someone does something I don't like, I immediately get angry. I don't necessarily want to punch everyone all the time, but it just happens."
Newt chuckles, and she does too. "Well, I won't give you a punishment as long as the punch was deserved."
"Yeah." Joan looks down.
"But what I was actually here for," Newt says, "is discussing which day of the week is gonna be your day off. Every job has one day off in the week, and as the Keeper, you can choose one for the Tool-Makers."
"Ah." She bites her lip, thinking. "Sunday sounds like a great day to be off."
"Sunday for the Tool-Makers it will be. That's the same day as the Runners," he says. "But the Runners are cool guys, so you'll survive."
"Thanks, Newt."
He nods. "I've got other jobs to do now. Where's Gally? He needs to instruct ya. I'll get him before I go back to Alby."
"That won't be necessary—" but Newt's already gone.
Sighing, Joan gives up on the carving. Her hands hurt from doing it. She just wants to take a shower. But they're always occupied before dinner. Some Keepers, unlike Gally, aren't as stern and allow the Gladers to leave work before dinner, so most of them are taking showers at this time.
The lake seems nice. But it feels wrong to take a swim. If something happens, she's responsible. But no one ever enters the woods, really. And she's checked the lake out multiple times, the water clear as crystal, and except for fishes, not a living thing is in the water.
And she doesn't feel like communicating with Gally. Quickly, the girl picks up clean clothes and a towel, which she all lies down next to the lake. Then she undresses until she's left in her undergarments and a white top.
The water isn't too cold. It might actually be warmer than the showers' water.
Soon, she's full on diving and swimming in it. It relaxes her muscles, eases her mind, and she immediately feels cleaner. The sand below her feet also have small shells in it, which she picks up and decides to use for later. Then there's a few water lilies. Beautiful.
Joan tries to get a little fit by swimming as long as she can. Maybe if she does this exercise everyday, she'll be a lot healthier. If she ever happens to end up in the Maze or needs a lot of physical movements while escaping, being fit would be nice.
Once she finishes swimming, she walks out of the water and squeezes her hair until most of the wet is out. Then she turns to her towel and—
Ah!
What shank decided to be funny?
No. She had her clothes and a towel there the whole time. She never saw anyone, and she would've sworn she saw her clothes still lying there before she started with her hair.
Hallucination? No. She moves her foot over the place where her clothes used to be and there's nothing. Just the ground.
Someone must've stolen her clothes. And everyone's eating dinner now. She's not comfortable with showing them her half naked body. Wait until it's dark and most boys are asleep? Yes.
❀
Explosions. Flashing lights that blind her as she runs toward her friend. A bomb goes off, the heat of it hitting her skin.
"Camil!" She cups his face. Wipes blood away with her thumb. Her eyes trail over his body, to the giant piece of stone that has fallen on top of it. "We'll get you out of here!" She assures, pulling him away from the stone as hard as she can.
But it doesn't work. He's stuck.
"Dad!" A scream leaves her mouth. "Help! Camil, he's—" she get interrupted by another bomb.
This one rings in her eyes. Makes her fall forward. Dizzy. Black dots in her vision.
"Joan." Camil's shaky hand reaches for hers. Their finger intertwine. Blood streams around them. They're no longer able to tell what's from who. "Tell me..." He starts weakly. "...tell me they weren't here."
She shakes her head. "I never saw them. I think— think they got caught along the way."
"Do you think either one of them spilled our location?" He whispers. His face twitches with pain.
"I don't know. I hope not," she murmurs. "Minho had too much trust in it and Gally... we had a promise. He wouldn't break it."
"Now we broke it," Camil corrects.
She stares at him, blinking. "No. There's still time."
"They're blowing us up. Taking us away. They've killed my mom already, Joan." He sniffs. "Vince fled. Nothing's left. I'm stuck, you're hurt."
"But Gally said we'd meet here," she says. "He'll come and... and do something. My dad must still be here."
Camil swallows, and that says enough. Her dad isn't here at all.
"Did he leave?" Her voice breaks. "He wouldn't leave me behind."
"The guards," Camil manages. "They're killing everyone in their way..." His eyes are starting to close.
"Hey, hold on. We'll get you—" But hands pull her away from her friend, and a scream rips from her throat. Then the rock is lifted off him, and he screams, too, but he's in physical pain.
❀
She's freezing. Goosebumps sit on her skin, her body shakes, and no matter how small she keeps herself, no body heat is there.
What time is it? Too late to think about the dream. It's so dark she can barely see what's going on, until moonlight reflects on the lake.
She fell asleep. Without clothes. And had a dream. Now she's freezing.
She reaches around for her clothes. There, she got them. The soft material slips onto her skin with ease.
But weren't they missing before? Why are they back now?
She shakes her head. She must've looked over them. Fast, she puts the things on and ignores her aching muscles as she tiptoes into Newt's hut.
She crawls under the sheets, still shaking from the cold. If only he had an extra blanket... she puts another sweater on. Anything to prevent her from being sick tomorrow. That can't happen. She's got work to do.
Other things on her mind than stupid dreams she supposes aren't even real.