Crank killer. Apocalypse survivor. Loner.
Her world was flipped upside down when her brother was snatched from the apocalyptic world for a nasty experiment.
After living alone with her dog for years, killing zombies and hiding from WCKD, she's fin...
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I was a little shaken after the talk with Alby, however he didn't scare me. He's really a kind man he's just... hardened by his life in this place.
It makes sense. He was the first one here. Alone for so long with zero memory. Zero idea if anyone would ever be up with him.
I couldn't imagine the torture from that kind of isolation.
Soon, the boys threw lit torches at a massive pile of branches and sticks and scraps of broken wood from buildings.
The pile soon erupted into a mountain of fire, illuminating at least half of the Glade.
Jars of apparently alcohol were passed around, a giant fighting circle game broke out, while others stood in groups and talked.
I, however, found myself sitting alone.
Yet- not for long. It's never for long. Minho found me and sat next to me on the log I was perched on. After turning down a jar of drink, we were quiet for a spell.
"Is Newt mad at me?"
"Hm? Newt? No way," Minho laughed. "I don't think he could be mad at anyone for long. Even if they hurt him. Total softie."
"Oh."
"He was confused why you left though."
"I don't know," I sighed. "It's just- the fact that we're so alike is freaky. And then he's not letting anyone tell me anything about life here."
"Well, first off, you're his greenie. Newt was assigned to you to help you adjust the second you came out of that box," Minho explained. "I guess he's just protective. Doesn't want to scare you off with everything so fast."
"I know about the crossed out names on that wall. How they died. Alby told me," I said with a shudder. "I already do know things."
"And I bet you're terrorized now," Minho scoffed. He wasn't too far off. I wasn't scared of the dark before my talk with Alby. Now I wanna be around the fire where there's light and I can see my surroundings.
I was silent, staring down at the black combat boots I was sent up into this Glade wearing. Minho sighed, patting my shoulder.
Forgetting my scar was there. I sucked in a breath and sighed sharply. "Ouch."
"I don't know how. Mine and Newt's similarity seems to be the talk of the Glade," I didn't realize how snappy that was until after I'd said it. "I'm sorry, Minho. I didn't mean to be rude."
He waved me off, finishing the last of his drink in a big gulp. "Adjusting is hard. Don't apologize. I can't imagine how hard it would be for a girl. I'm here for you though. Well, not right now. I'm gonna go get another drink. Are you sure you don't want one?"
