𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒, thomas ✓

twelve.

12

JANSON

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Thomas practically fell from the helicopter with Rosa leaning on him as she limped behind the other surviving Gladers, all of them heading into a large, industrial compound. They were surrounded by desert sand, walls that towered over them and armed guards. Rosa let her left, uninjured, hand fall to her pocket, noticing that the wooden heart that Chuck had made for her was missing.

Her eyes widened, trying to turn around, only for Thomas to pull her away. She shouted at him, her eyes nearly rolling back due to her feeling weak, "T-the heart! Chuck- Missing."

Thomas let her fall into the arms of a guard as he ran past several others, jumping back onto the helicopter whilst being shouted at. Rosa didn't even get to see if he had found it before she was dragged into the building, screeching and gunshots sounding from outside.

Rosalind groaned, pushing the guard away from her as he tried to pull her towards the group and away from Thomas. She nearly fell backwards but she didn't, running over to Thomas and pulling him into a tight hug. She soon pulled apart and pulled the wooden heart to her lips and thanked Thomas for everything, "T-thank you."

The couple walked to the front of the Glader group, their eyes wandering over boxes upon boxes of supplies and pairs of guards running across the room. Whilst they starved during the winter and struggled during the summer, all these supplies just sat here.

A grey-haired man pulled them along, "Go! Run! Get in there and don't leave!"

The door shut behind the Gladers as they were pushed into a room, Thomas pounded on the door, "Hey! Let us out! She's bleeding out!" He was interrupted by the lights turning on, revealing a supply closet of sorts with a large table in the middle, filled with various foods and drinks.

The Gladers looked in shock, they eyes wide and their mouths agape. "Dibs on the rice!" Frypan shouted, all of them running to the table and pushing each other out of the way.

Rosa was the last to make it to the table, but the first to smack away Jeff's hand as he tried to take the same chicken leg that she had set her eyes on. Rosa had completely forgotten about the bullet wound in her arm as she gorged out on the food, a chicken leg in one hand and an apple in the other.

"Better than Frypan's slop," they had joked, all laughing and throwing rice and peas at one another.

The Gladers didn't stop until the table was empty, pushing past their filled stomachs in order to fill them even more. They all sat, or lay, in a circle and participated in light conversation. "I don't know who these guys are, but they can cook," Frypan muttered, shoving a spoonful of rice in his mouth.

Rosa didn't need to look up, instead, she cuddled into Thomas' embrace even more. He drew rough circles over her thigh, his eyes set on her freshly bandaged arm, thanks to Winston. In her hand, she held the wooden heart, as she stared at Newt and Teresa in front of them.

"Who are they really, though?" Teresa started, twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers, "I mean, we don't know anything about them."

"Well, we know they are not friends of WICKED," Newt replied from where he sat, just above Teresa, on a pile of sand bags.

"That's good enough for me," Minho grunted, sitting up from the metal table that he sat on, "You guys think too much, we're free. Enjoy it."

"Are we though?" Rosa coughed, Thomas tightening his grip on her body, "We are back to confinement, aren't we? We escaped one set of walls, only to be in another."