SIX
「western nights」
＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

DESPITE EVERYTHING SHE'D been through, Sylvia couldn't remember the last time she'd been at such a loss for words. Minho. Her Minho. The boy who knew her better than anyone else, despite her misgivings about it. The boy who'd seen the worst parts of her and accepted them. The boy that she didn't quite hate.

Sylvia felt drunk. The joy that strummed through her body, the burn of happiness that rushed through her veins—it was like a drug. Minho had initially been looking at Thomas, and when his eyes slid over to her, his expression brightened tenfold, his eyes widening.

She couldn't quite quell her shock. Every emotion, every thought she had splayed over her face. For once in her life, she couldn't hide how she felt. Because it was Minho. He was here.

"Minho?"

Minho grinned, dimples cratering. Sylvia thought she might be taken hostage a hundred times over if she could keep him smiling at her like that. His eyes twinkled as he quipped, "The one and only."

"What...how..." Thomas stammered.

"We'd just found you. Did you think we were gonna let these bunch of shuck-faces do anything to you? You both owe me. Big-time." He walked over and started cutting the tape off of Thomas.

"What do you mean you'd just found us?" Sylvia questioned. She felt so happy she wanted to giggle like an idiot.

Minho finished freeing Thomas from his tape and walked over to her. He stood over her, leaning close to her with the knife. He stared at her for a few moments, standing still. Now that he could see her face more clearly, his eyes darkened. His gaze trailed from the dark bruises on her cheekbone and jaw to the sure marks on her neck.

He paused, his hand reaching towards her neck, thumb softly brushing the swollen, red skin. His voice was low and angry when he spoke, "Who the fuck did this to you?"

"Minho," she whispered dismissively. "I'm fine. I took care of it."

His eyes were filled with fire, "I'll kill—"

The smirk that curled her lips was what stopped his words in his mouth. She tilted her head tauntingly, "Stop stalling, sweetheart. Untie me."

Minho shook his head, his dark expression fading only slightly. "You're going to be the end of me." He started cutting the tape off of her.

"How'd you find us?" Thomas repeated her question. He was untying Brenda a few feet away.

"Jorge's been leading us through the city—avoiding Cranks, finding food." He said as he bent down to release the tape around her ankles. "Yesterday morning, we kind of spread out, spying here and there. Frypan was peeking around the corner into that alley up there just as those three shanks pulled a gun on you. He came back, we got mad, started planning our ambush. Most of those shucks were wasted or asleep."

"Did you know I was here?" Sylvia asked.

Minho glanced at her. He finished getting the tape off her ankles and put his hands on her knees to push himself up from his crouched position. Her eyes nearly widened. He smirked at her and said, "No. It was a nice surprise though."

Sylvia laughed disbelievingly. She just couldn't wrap her head around the fact that he was here. She stood from her chair, snatched the knife out of Minho's hand, and started cutting the tape off Hayden.

Minho started, "Syl! What are you doing? We don't know him."

"Yes, we do." She talked over her shoulder. "He was with me after we were separated."

Hayden made a noise of amusement. She glanced at him curiously. He raised his brows at her, eyes suggestive. She knew exactly what he was thinking.

She whispered to him sharply, "Shut up."

Hayden pulled himself out of his chair as the last of the tape was cut off. He walked up to Minho, held a hand out, and said, "Hayden."

Minho glared down at him. He shot Sylvia a glance out of the corner of his eye. When Sylvia nodded, Minho shook his hand jerkily. "Minho."

Thomas groaned, putting a hand to his head. "Oh, man. Anybody got some aspirin?"

Minho only laughed. Brenda had made her way to the bottom of the stairs, where she stood with arms folded. Something about her body language made her look angry.

"Let's go. I wanna see Jorge." Brenda said impatiently; Short clips for words.

Minho came up to Thomas, offered a hand. "Come on, dude. Headache or no headache, we need to go. No telling how long we can keep the shuck prisoners up there quiet and still."

"Prisoners?" Thomas repeated.

"Whatever you wanna call them—we can't risk letting them go until we get out. We've got a dozen guys holding more than twenty. And they aren't too happy. They might start thinking they can take us pretty soon. Once they get rid of their hangovers."

Thomas blew out a slow breath, and swayed in his place. He closed his eyes tightly for a few seconds. Sylvia watched him with mild concern. He sucked in a deep breath, looked at her and Minho. "I'll be fine."

Minho flashed him a smile. "Such a man. Come on."

Brenda was the first to go up the stairs, seemingly wanting to be gone as fast as possible. Thomas followed, then Hayden, who shot a look at her as he passed.

Minho was about to go up next, but she grabbed his arm to stop him. He turned to her with a questioning look.

She didn't know how to say everything she felt, and she was sure Minho would hold the words above her head for the rest of her life, but she knew she had to say something. It only felt right.

She watched the color swim in his eyes, the way his lips started to pull at the corners. She started hesitantly. "I...was worried about you."

"Are you feeling sick?" Minho asked, placing the back of his hand against her forehead. An excuse to touch her.

She didn't swat him away, but she did growl, "Slim it, I'm serious. I didn't know what happened to you."

He let his hand drop, but he moved an inch closer to make up for the loss of touch. "I'll admit, I worried about you too. Dare I say, I missed you."

"I may have missed you a little bit," she teased. "If only a fraction."

Sylvia couldn't contain her grin, her eyes alight. She felt something stir within her. Minho was about to say something else, his mouth opening, but she couldn't hold herself back. She cut him off, cupping her hands over his cheeks and pressing her lips against his.

Minho hesitated for only a millisecond, surprised, before wrapping a hand around her waist, pulling her closer. His other hand cupped the back of her head, his fingers brushing over her hair. She felt him smile into the kiss and it was almost as if the world was right again.

Her cheeks felt warm and her stomach childishly filled with butterflies. She pulled away, losing breath. She didn't have long before Minho planted another kiss on her lips.

When he pulled away, Sylvia dipped her head, trying to hide the embarrassingly broad smile on her lips. This new feeling was so unfamiliar, so strange, and she never wanted it to stop. It made her ache all over and caused warmth to swell behind her cheeks.

"I guess you really did miss me." Minho whispered in her good ear.

She scoffed playfully, shoving him away. "Shut up."

Minho smirked, eyes brightly stark. "I love it when you tell me to shut up."

Sylvia grinned as she moved for the stairs. Minho grabbed her, pulling her back and placing one last short kiss on her lips.

When Sylvia emerged from the stairs, Minho trailing behind her, she was met with the sight of Newt and the other Gladers. She nearly keeled over with the amount of relief and endearment she felt rush through her. Her boys. They were safe.

Newt, with his angelic blond hair and warm brown eyes. Oscar, with his signature smirk and the playful glint in his eyes. Frypan, with his grown out curly hair and bright smile. Another smile broke across Sylvia's face. She didn't think she'd ever smiled as much as she had that day than she had her entire life.

Newt was the first to speak, tone laced with relief. "Well, if it isn't our best girl."

Sylvia threw her arms up in a light shrug, and was a bit taken back when Newt wrapped his arms around her. She decided it was a special occasion, and returned the gesture, arms wrapping around his thin but lean frame.

It was only half a second before Newt was pulling back and his hands gripped her shoulders, shaking her. "Don't ever do something like that again. Ever."

"It's not like I had much of a choice." She conceded, still smiling.

Oscar bounded over joyfully and appeared beside Newt. He shoved her shoulder and laughed. "You absolute shank. I'm never forgiving you."

"Oh," Sylvia laughed. "I'm glad to see you too."

"You're glad to see me?" Oscar feigned shock. "What did they do to you?"

"Slim it."

The excitement and chatter died down a bit, and Sylvia couldn't help but wonder where Neil and Bark were at. Had something happened to them...?

A wrenching open of the rickety front door answered her question. Bark bounded into the room swiftly, seemingly ready for attack, and then paused. The dog stood confusedly for a few seconds, staring at the familiar Gladers before his tail started wagging and he jumped affectionately on the nearest one.

A second figure followed through the threshold, Sylvia's bat in Neil's ready-to-strike hands. Several people raised their weapons and shouted. Sylvia quickly dropped any pretense of the surprise beforehand and rushed to stand in front of Neil before a free for all could start.

She turned her back to Neil, stretching her arms out in front of him and facing the Gladers. She noticed two unfamiliar people she hadn't before. One an older man and one a boy that looked around the Gladers' age.

The Gladers looked at her confusedly, Minho and Newt sharing a brief look. Sylvia thought Neil might've spoken to her because his breath fanned against her left ear, but his voice was too low for her right ear to hear whatever he had said.

Before she could speak to explain herself, the unfamiliar older man took a few steps forward, exclaiming, "By all things holy...Neil?"

"Yeah, it's me, you son of a—"

"Hold on!" Sylvia whirled around to face Neil, glancing back and forth between him and the unfamiliar man. "You know each other?"

"Damn right, we do." Neil said gruffly, looking rather angry.

Minho took a few tentative steps forward, bewilderment flashing in his eyes. "Syl, who the hell is this guy?" Then he turned to the unfamiliar man, "And how the hell do you know him, old man?"

Hayden walked up to her to stand beside her and Neil, giving her a look and then sharing a nod with Neil as the older man patted Hayden's shoulder..

Sylvia started hesitantly, eyes on Minho, "He helped us. In the Scorch."

"Did he now?" The old man—as Minho had called him—asked, nodding his head patronizingly. He stared straight at Neil, almost like they were having a conversation without words. Sylvia watched them. It was almost as if there was some sort of obvious shared knowledge between them.

Sylvia squared her stance and crossed her arms over her chest. She glared at the 'old man'. "And you are?"

He seemed amused by this, lips curling into a smirk. "Hermana's got an attitude on her, doesn't she?"

The glare Minho threw the man's way was so fierce Sylvia could have sworn he was trying to summon lasers out of his eyes.

Thomas interjected before things could get too heated, putting up two peaceful hands and standing between the two parties. "Sylvia, this is Jorge. He's helping us get to the Safe Haven."

At the information, Sylvia shot a swift glance at Neil behind her. At least now he would know they were being truthful about it. She looked back to Thomas. "Same thing here."

"Okay," Thomas heaved a sigh, muscles relaxing. "We all have the same goal here. No need to fight."

A few hard seconds passed where no one said anything. They waited anxiously as Jorge and Neil continued to glare at each other. Finally, they both seemed to reluctantly agree. The room of them seemed to breathe out a collective sigh of relief.

Neil put a hand on both her and Hayden's shoulders, causing both of them to turn to him. He stared down at them. "Either of you hurt?"

They both answered with "no's" and Neil nodded, accepting the information. He dropped his hands from their shoulders and he handed Sylvia her bat.

She smirked at him, accepting the weapon from his hands. "Admit it, you like the bat."

Neil grumbled and rolled his eyes. When he saw that both of them were still waiting expectantly for an answer, his shoulders dropped a bit. "Fine. I like the bat."

"Ha!" Sylvia exclaimed and turned to Hayden. "I knew it. Give me your jacket." Hayden groaned and started shrugging off his jacket, as Sylvia did the same. Neil gave the two of them a questioning look and Sylvia began to explain, "We made a deal that we have to trade jackets if you admit that—"

"What is that?" Jorge called out, interrupting her mid-sentence. He stomped swiftly across the room. Before Sylvia could process what was happening, Jorge had gripped her bare arm roughly—having been deprived of her jacket—and tore the bandage off her arm.

He recoiled sharply at seeing the bite mark on her arm. He pointed at it, fiery gaze on Neil. "You're helping a Condenada girl?"

Neil quickly shoved her behind him, almost protectively. He scowled at Jorge. "We're all infected! We're all Cranks, Jorge! Just because she's Condenada doesn't make her any different."

"Yeah, but you know well enough what that bite means!"

"She hasn't even shown any symptoms yet!"

The Gladers watched with wide eyes. Sylvia raised her voice and tugged on Neil's sleeve, "What is he talking about?"

"No!" Jorge protested. "She needs to go. Now."

Minho rushed forward and put himself between Jorge and her, Neil, and Hayden. "There is no way in hell you're going anywhere near her." He declared. Thomas, Newt, and Oscar joined Minho's side. She felt a well of gratefulness rise within her, but it was quickly drowned out by panic.

She tugged Neil's sleeve again, unable to mask the worry lacing her voice when she sternly repeated, "Neil, what the fuck is he talking about?"

Slowly, Neil turned to look at her, expression guarded.

"Go on, Neil. Tell her." Jorge taunted. "You should know well enough."

She stared at Neil expectantly, brows knitted together. She was aware of the fact that everyone's eyes were on them. Neil shook his head. "Listen to me, kid—"

"Neil, just tell me!" She snapped.

"When you're bitten..." He started, expression grim. "It can speed up the process to becoming full Gone. You won't even know it until one day, it just happens. There's practically no warning. One day you're here, the next..." He didn't finish his sentence.

Sylvia couldn't quite comprehend what she was hearing. Her ears had begun ringing, the sound drowning out the voices that had started to rise around her. She stared at Neil, time warping and slowing around her, shaking her head slowly in denial.

"I'm sorry, niña." Neil's words were barely there, so far away. It felt like she was floating, drifting away from this terrible reality.

She could become a past the Gone Crank at any moment, without rhyme or reason, shifting into place like the snap of a wire. Would she even know?

Someone said something, and the words floated around her, above her head, out of her reach. Suddenly, everything seemed so impossibly ridiculous that this had to have been a dream, right? She was walking somewhere, her legs moving almost mechanically. A warm hand on her back guiding her. She was dreaming, of course. It was the only logical answer.

She swam through the dream blearily, barely registering anything around her. The ringing in her ears was incessant and incredibly irritating, her hand reaching up to paw at her left ear. The world was caught between the flutter of her dark lashes; bending, stretching, pulling.

More words floated around her head, not registering in her ears. Warped mumbles like a foreign language. She was a Crank. She was destined to die. She was a danger to the people around her.

A distant, lunatic shout. The taut pull of her muscles. The feel of cold seeping into her limbs. Dread settling in the center of her gut.

A thunderous boom, like a crack of lightning that struck close to her and snapped her harshly back into reality, that reminded her with all the cruelty of the world in its shriek that no, this was not a dream.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Omg I just realized I published this out of order lol