Here is the next chapter, let me know what you're thinking so far, I love to hear from you guys! Your comments are great! xo

Challenge: A trillion points to who can pinpoint the little Easter egg from 'Everlasting' which I inserted into chapter 8. Thirteen.
I thought it was a really cute scene in 'Everlasting', so I added it into 'Everbloom' as well, to see if anyone notices it.

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The shot rang out, leaving a slight ringing in Lori's ears. She couldn't move. The shock of what had just happened, gave her the feeling like someone had poured cement through her veins.

Another shot is fired, and that crack, is enough to get her moving. She runs over to Thomas, collapsing beside him.
"Thomas! Thomas, are you okay?"

No reply, he just looks around. His face is drained of colour, and he looks like he is about to pass out. He rolls over, and grips tightly onto his shoulder, where he had been shot. Thank shucking god. That could have been so much worse.
But it still could be. If he doesn't get patched up, he'll probably bleed out.

Lori turns to see Minho tackle the shooter to the ground, he's a brave idiot, she thinks to herself, shaking her head.
She turns back to the wounded Glader, whos breath pace had noticeably sped up.

She feels her stomach clench, and her eyes sting. I don't know how to fix a bullet hole! She thinks to herself, looking at the crimson liquid pouring from the wound. I may be a Med-Jack, but I never had to deal with this!
"I don't know what to do," Lori mutters under her breath.

Not a second later, Newt has slid down beside her, assessing Thomas' condition.
The darker haired boy looks at them both, "He shot me."

"No shit!" Lori exclaims before she can eve stop herself.
Both of the boys stare at her, shocked at her outburst, apparently. "I'm sorry, but pointing out the obvious isn't going to take that bullet out of your shoulder," she mutters.

Someone among the Gladers passes Lori a shirt, which she gratefully accepts, holding it to the injury, to help try and slow the bleeding. Thomas cries out with pain, which makes Lori jumps, apologizing over and over to her friend in pain. His eyes start to flutter, as if he wants to pass out, but he can't.

Jorge runs up to them, putting a hand on each of Lori and Newt's shoulders. "I can get that sucker out of him. But I'll need a fire."

"We can't do this here," Newt exclaims, turning back to Thomas with a worried expression.

Minho is beside them now, which Lori didn't even notice, "Let's get out of this shuck city."

"Okay, I'll wrap this shirt around his shoulder, and then you guys need to carry him," Lori explains. They all nod in agreement, and she sets to work, tightening the fabric, to preserve as much of the boy's blood as possible.

Minho and Jorge lift Thomas, because Newt can't carry him, as well as run fast because of his limp.
They all run, exiting the city and back into the sandy dunes of the Scorch.

When they are far enough, that they feel they've escaped the Cranks, they lay Thomas down, and get set on starting a fire.
Gladers set out, before returning with kindling.

The sky is growing dark by the time they have the fire going, the canvas above them turning a shade of purple, with stars splattered across its glowing surface.

Jorge sits beside the fire, still heating the blade of a knife he intends to use to remove the bullet from Thomas' shoulder.
"Is he going to be okay?" Lori asks the man, who doesn't really feel like a stranger anymore.

With a sigh and a shrug, Jorge continues to focus on the flames. "If I manage to get it out without bleedin' him dry, his biggest worry is infection."

She nods, so that he knows she had heard him, but can't bring herself to speak. Either way, there's the chance that Thomas may die. The only thought running through her mind, sends signals of confusion to her heart, and worry to her mind.

I can't watch Thomas to die. I can't lose him.

The words she was thinking stung with confliction. Why did she feel so strongly? She has feelings for Newt. Doesn't she? That's what everyone is telling her, at least.

"You better hold him down. Legs and arms." Jorge stands and walks over to Thomas, blade in hand. "This is gonna hurt somethin' awful."

Minho grabs Thomas' arms, Newt his legs. Lori kneels beside him, resting his head in her lap, holding a shirt which they dampened with some water against his forehead.

The Crank digs the blade of the knife into Thomas' shoulder slowly, pushing it and twisting it, searching for the bullet.
After what felt like centuries, Jorge lifts the knife out, managing to coax the bullet out along with it.

A wave of relief floods everyone watching, as Jorge disposes of the bullet.
Lori lays Thomas' head on the shirt, moving to tend to his shoulder. She attempts to clean away the blood, wiping around where the bullet had been removed from. She felt sick just looking at it.

She also noticed Brenda watching as she cared for him.
Lori stays close, sitting with him, as the sun sets and he rests. There's nothing they can do now, but wait.

"Hey," a voice interrupts her silence.

From the accent, she doesn't even have to look up, to know that it is Newt who is crouching down to sit beside her.
"Hey, Newt."

She tries to sound cheerful, but it's hard when one of your best friends might be dying right before your very eyes.

"How are you feeling?" He asks her, gazing at her. Lori suddenly feels self-conscious, looking down at her hands.

"I'm fine," she says, barely audible.
The thoughts she was having was making her feel guilty about Newt. About how he seems to feel one way, but she doesn't know if she can return it.

"He's going to be fine."

Lori looks at Thomas, who seems to only be getting worse. "How do you know?"

"Well," he takes a moment to think. "To be bloody honest, I don't. But when you're in a situation like this, there's not much you can do, other than believe things will work out fine."

"Right. Cause it's obviously worked out for you recently," she mutters sarcastically.

Newt sighs, "I know what you're referring to, you don't have to try and code it. I get that what happened to you has been a bit of a . . ." he searches for the right word, "Setback-"

Wrong word.

"Setback?" Lori shouts. "Are you shucking kidding me right now?" She stands up, walking away from the group, so that she is alone past some of the dunes.

"You can't just bloody walk away!"

She doesn't even turn back to look at him, "Watch me."

"Lor, I-"

But him calling her that hits a nerve. She whips around, her ponytail being blown against her face by the light wind. "Don't call me that. Don't make it sound like we know each other. We don't. Not anymore."

He runs his hands through his hair in frustration, before walking over to her, and laying his hands on each of her shoulders. "You need to calm down and-"

"Don't you dare." Lori swats his hands away angrily. "Don't you dare tell me to calm down, Newt! You, are not the one who fell down a damn hole. You are not the one who was trapped in an empty room for what felt like weeks."

She looks to see his eyes grow wide.

"Right, you guys didn't know. I thought WICKED would have done something sick, like thrown it in your faces. They told me that they'd show you all. Show what happens to those who break the rules."

Newt shakes his head quickly, "I swear, we didn't see anything about you. We all thought you were dead."

She purses her lips, remembering the pain she endured as if it happened yesterday. It was seared into her mind forever.

"They were awful. They kept me in room alone, they experimented on me, and they- they" her words got caught in a web in her throat.

"I wont tell anyone," Newt whispers.

That's not what I'm afraid of.
I'm afraid to relive it all.

"They beat me until my blood stained the floor, when I disobeyed. When I yelled at them to stop." Lori feels hot tears begin to gather in her eyes. "I yelled, and no one listened. I cried, and no one cared. I wanted to leave, but I couldn't. I know how bad the Maze was, but this was so much worse. I can't calm down, because I'm afraid of losing you all again. Of waking up in that room, and having this whole time with you all being some sick hallucination."

She takes a deep breath, lowering the volume of her voice, before continuing. "Every time someone looks at me, I see that look of pity in her eyes. They all know I'm supposed to be dead right now. Hell, I know I'm supposed to be dead right now. But I'm not; and that confuses you all. So you keep me at a distance, because you think I'm different now.

"Well, I am. I don't know if I want to be, but it seems that's not my choice. Nothing ever was. I lost part of my memory, and I couldn't stop them from doing that. You can't even begin to understand how powerless I felt. And the things they want me to do to you all. All these awful thoughts in my mind, because of them."

"What thoughts?" Newt asks, curiosity winning out over silence.

Lori looks up through her eyelashes. "I have to break you. They think that having 'the Glue' break down, would make the perfect Variable. I can't let them win."

"So what are you going to do?"

"I need to keep you all safe."

Newt shakes his head, "You need to think about yourself as well. You can't keep trying to save everyone but yourself.

"I have to. You and I, we need to stay away from each other. I don't want to be the reason you end up hurt. You need to just- just . . ." Leave me alone. She can't force the words out. She wants them to be voiced, but she doesn't want him to leave her alone. She can't keep having this guilt tearing away at her. She doesn't want to be the bad guy in this story.

Newt stays silent, before stepping closer to her. "Just, what?"

His closeness causes her cheeks to burn, and her debate to melt away. "You have to . . . I need to . . . I can't . . . "

He takes another step. "I can take care of myself," Newt claims, resting a hand on her cheek. "I promise."

He moves closer, slowly and precisely.

An invisible urge keeps her where she is, and when she sees him close his eyes, her body reacts the same way.

As soon as the darkness takes over, her brains begins to work once more. "No, I can't", she steps away from him, letting his hand drop. "I can't let WICKED win. This is a trick. I don't know you. I don't love you. I can't."

Lori runs off, before Newt can do or say anything. And that's when it happens. The whirring sound resounds throughout the landscape, causing all the boys to rush around, trying to find somewhere to hide most likely.

The Berg lands on the dunes, and people in strange outfits come marching out. Dressed in green, one-piece, protection suits, and gas masks, the people navigate the dunes. They're moves are so precise.
They know exactly what they're after. More specifically, who.

They separate into two groups, one headed straight for Thomas, the other, Lori.

She turns, attempting to run, but not before they grab her. She begins to scream, kicking and scratching at the weird people. She looks at the one in front of her, to see one word printed on the front his outfit.

WICKED

Panic sets in, and her screaming grows louder, her escape methods becoming wilder as they drag her towards the aircraft. Lori swivels, to see Newt running after her.

She yells for help, Newt and Minho trying to get to her and Thomas.

Alas, the people in green spread out, aiming their guns so that the Gladers will not pass.

Lori gives up, growing tired as she's dragged up the metal ramp of the Berg. They hold her as the door slams shut, silence setting in. No more howling winds. No more boys shouting. No more of her screaming.

Some of the green people set Thomas down on a gurney, rolling him out of this room in the Berg.

The people holding Lori turn her around, to face someone who was obviously waiting. Someone she's met before.

Assistant Director Janson stands before her, a cruel smirk stitched to his face, hands behind his back.
"Now, now, Lori, we're very disappointed. We thought we could trust you to keep quiet."

Lori stayed silent a moment, trying to piece together what he was talking about. Then it came to her.
Her time in WICKED. She was told not to tell anyone.

"No. No, please, I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have told him. I'm sorry, I forgot," she rambles, tears burning at the back of her eyes. "Please. He wont tell anyone, they don't know."

Janson just shakes his head.

"Why does it even matter? Them knowing would prevent them from going against you, wouldn't it?" She asks, slightly hoping he'll change his mind.

"Tsk, tsk, that wasn't the rules. If we had wanted any of them to know, we would have told them, Miss Whyte." Janson steps closer, lifting her chin with a finger.

He smirks at the terror on her face, "And you know what we do to rule breakers here at WICKED."

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