Light ➳ TST, Thomas [2] ✓

Chapter {9}

It kept ringing, spread like a wild fire in my ears that I had no control over, a sound so distinct it was the only thing my brain got to process as its high note barely quieted down, so that silence was far from settling in my ears. It was only there for bare seconds, as it continued like a squeaking sound that felt surreal and as it forced me to ignore it. Then it abruptly cleared, nothing was there, neither in my surroundings nor my ears, apart from urgent yelling that had drowned out the sound of sand beneath my feet.

"Hey!" I heard Fry yell, then following his voice another shout, Aris's shout beaconing Thomas and I toward the group.

"What happened?" Thomas stopped beside me, a pillar above our heads whose shadow had leaned over us as he eyed the sight we were welcomed with. Winston lay on the ground, eyes fixed on the sky in my peripheral vision and heavy breathing that cut through the silence painfully. I didn't need a second guess, nor the realisation took long to hit in, after which had the confusion vanished and sadness took over...Winston was dying and there was nothing any of us could do.

"I- I don't know he just woke up and grabbed the gun and tried to..." Frypan trailed off, panic inside his voice as I placed a hand on his shoulder, trying yet failing to comfort with him. Nothing could stop the tears that went down his cheeks, the pure sadness that had laced itself amongst his features.

I looked sadly away from him, already tears brimming my eyes. "Winston, are you okay?" Thomas asked unsurely, crouching down where Winston lay, only to jump as the boy had hastily forced himself onto his knees and threw up. Black, his blood was completely black and sickly looking, something I watched in horror, my gut clenched with sadness and a tear slipping out of my eye as I was unable to leave the sight of him.

Winston forced himself onto the sand once again, away from the small pool of black while second after second passed as slow as ever. Tiredly he stared at each of us, his eyes searching for faces of his friends, sad, hurt, panicked.

"It's growing," He showed us his abdomen. "Inside of me." Winston breathed out heavily, terrified and lost as the scene seemed to freeze in my sight; scarred, full of hardened layer of black blood and veins colored in blue, dark blue. The infection, he was infected.

As if my brain stopped functioning properly, as if my lips sealed with a heavy dam I couldn't utter a single word nor form a single sentence that I would say. Nothing. The horror of our friend dying right there in front of us, in such pain and sorrow, the two that just blocked my thoughts. "I'm not going to make it. Please. Please...don't let me turn into one of those things."

It was quiet for a moment, tense around us the air stood and heavy to breathe in the sandy surrounding, tears that brimmed my eyes earlier, silently fell upon my cheeks and blurred my sight. I fought against myself, against that single, gray thought of WICKED, yet knew it indeed sounded selfish when one of us wouldn't make it. I was as if somebody had frozen me in that place, unable to move or speak as I watched Newt step forward. With guilt, sorrowful features and shaky hand he took the gun Fry held and taking a few, rather unsure steps towards Winston placed it in his hands.

"Thank you. Now get outta here." Winston said clearly, struggling to maintain it in his voice.

"Goodbye, Winston." Newt answered quickly, averting his gaze toward the rest of us, before his hurried steps had made his figure fade behind the stone pillar.

"Winston, I'm...I'm sorry." I finally managed to mutter, watching as his tired feature barely twitched with a soft smile.

"You don't have to be. Go, make it to safety. For me and others." He struggled with every breath as hot tears had barely stopped streaming from my eyes down into the sand, barely as I held myself together letting my blurred gaze linger a second longer on the dying boy. Barely, as then they started again. I felt another part of my heart being ripped away, another person turning into a memory within my eyes as quivering and wobbling, I nodded toward him and slowly left.