Emily didn't manage to see much due to the distance between them and the other person, but she narrowed her eyes and realised that the stranger was blond, and that he was a man.
"Are you safe?" he shouted.
Emily looked at Minho, who nodded in approval. She then raised her thumb in response to the man, who immediately started heading their way. As he approached, Emily took in his easy smile, his clothes (which resembled theirs) and the clearness of his eyes. "Hello, folks. Y'all ain't scratched, right?" His accent was thick and foreign to Emily's ears.
"Yeah," Thomas replied, peering at every member of the Group.
"Y'all lookin' for shelter?"
After a moment's worth of hesitation, Minho answered. "Yeah, we are. You know a place?"
The boy cackled. "I just happen to live in one," he said, pointing over his shoulder. "Name's James, by the way."
The group turned towards one another. "Should we follow him?" Isabelle asked.
"Do we have any other choice?" Chuck retorted.
Newt bit on his lip and nodded, blood-soaked machete still dangling from his hand. "He's right."
Minho looked at James, who was tapping his foot impatiently. "Show us the way, then."
James led them east, asking questions and cracking jokes meant to loosen up the group. Emily guessed that James' shelter had been less than two hours' worth of walking away, because it hadn't yet gotten dark when they arrived. The building was massive, most of its dusty glass panes shattered. Inside, they followed James down a set of rusty escalators and through dimly lit, ransacked stores until they arrived on the lowest floor.
Emily couldn't count all of the people sprawled in front of her. Most of them were sitting and it was clear that they had been talking before the group had appeared. However, to her relief, none of them seemed to be Cranks.
"This is all we've got." James faced them. "You're welcome to stay with us if you wanna."
"I'm pretty sure we do," Emily affirmed.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Minho nudge Newt with his elbow, but she paid it no mind.
James took them to a large, separate room that once might've served as an office after Minho explained that they weren't keen at all on splitting up. James told them to hold on, and after a few minutes, he reappeared with a worn plastic bag which he handed over to Newt. "Just some food. Holler if you need anythin' else. I'm . . . in charge of things here," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
As everyone huddled around Newt to check the newly-gifted rations, James took a chocolate bar out of his pocket and tossed it to Emily. She caught it mid-air, her eyes wide—it had been such a long time since she'd eaten sweets. With a wink, James retreated silently, not noticing that Newt's eyes were burning holes into his back. Emily sighed as she took a bite from her chocolate bar, not even caring if it was poisoned or not. She was so hungry she would've eaten anything, let alone chocolate. She took big bites out of the half-melted sweet until only the package was left, then went to the bag he had brought and took some water and other bars.
When night came, after everyone was fast asleep, Emily drew closer to where Isabelle was sitting. The two girls remained in pure silence until Emily perturbed it. "You know, I'm really glad I have a sister. It's nice knowing there's someone in your corner," she said.
"I . . . I'm glad, too," Isabelle whispered. "In times like these, it's important to know who's your ally and who's not." After a moment's hesitation, she added, "Do you think we can trust these people?"
Emily's brow furrowed. "Who are you talking about? James's group or. . ."
"No. Thomas and Newt and Minho and Ella."
"You're forgetting Chuck."
Isabelle scoffed. "I'm not sure he poses much of a threat."
Emily chewed on her bottom lip, thoughtful. "Yeah, I do."
"What about your mission?" Isabelle asked. "The one you told me about?"
Emily knew what Isabelle meant. Kill Group A. The first and only thought she'd had upon waking up in the W.I.C.K.E.D labs.
Emily also knew she would not do it.
"Get some rest," she told Isabelle. "Something tells me we'll need it."
The silver moon peeking through a hole in the stone wall was the only witness of the conversation—or so Emily thought, unaware of the blond boy pretending to be sleeping.
* * *
"Oh, Emily, if only you knew how many surprises are in store for you. . ."
Emily woke with the sentence echoing in her mind, spoken by a feminine voice that was foreign to her. It had come to her in her sleep, only to pester her for the entirety of the day.
The boys were sent scavenging with some others from James's group, whereas Emily, Isabelle and Ella's help was requested in the kitchens. Thus, Emily wound up discovering that the group amassed forty-something people, including a few children. That was the way things were for the rest of the week—the girls helped cook whatever the scavengers brought back and mend clothes, Isabelle made a point of getting closer to Emily, and the boys continued to regard Emily with the same forlorn, nostalgic expressions. Thomas told her some anecdotes from when they were living in the Glade, including the tale of their escape—save for the very end, which he always avoided by claiming he was either too tired or had some other things to tend to. Chuck had burst into tears when Emily demanded the same thing of him, and the attempt on Minho went even worse; he grew angry—not at Emily, he assured her—and refused to speak of it, but then, before Emily left, requested something of Emily that both confused and piqued her curiosity.
That, whatever she did, she wouldn't ask Newt about it.