Chapter Ten
"corpse"

❣︎

"Be careful." 

I nod.

"If you don't agree with something Thomas says, tell him. He's definitely not the kind of guy to consider listening to a girl, even though they tend to be smarter; everyone's opinions around him sound the same, and they're all useless to him," Gally says.

I frown.

"What I'm trying to say is that no matter what you do or who you are, he won't listen. It makes no difference to him. So if you don't agree, try to convince him and sense if there's a chance that works. If not, just leave him on his own. He'll manage."

I nod again, though it's slower this time.

"Keep your paper close and prepare more hand signs while you're sailing." He hands me a stack of sticky notes, along with a pen even though he already tucked multiple of them in my backpack. "And most important of all, keep yourself alive."

I nod and hold up my thumb, then point at him. He should keep himself alive during the mission, too. I can't imagine coming back here only to find out Gally's gone.

"If it turns out that Newt isn't alive or you can't find him, Thomas will be upset. Dangerously upset. He will drag you and Aris all across the country if it's up to him. Only to find Newt. Make sure that doesn't happen. Just get him back to the boat during a weak moment—a moment when he can't think straight. Don't let him get obsessed with this or get his hopes up too much."

I'm afraid that has already happened, but I nod.

"Okay." Gally takes a breath. "I guess that was it. Well, Thomas has a lot of perks and though I don't know Aris very well, I'm sure he also has perks. I won't explain them all. But you should probably know that Thomas can be stubborn while he's loyal. He'll fight for what he believes in, and he won't back down. You need to remember that when you're with him—he'll pull you into his world and won't always consider what's best for you. There's something about him that makes people follow him, even if they don't agree with him."

He pauses again, clearly choosing his words carefully. "To sum it all up, you've probably heard a lot of stories about Thomas, but he's really not that smart. He's rather... obsessed."

I pat Gally on his shoulder to let him know he can stop educating me about Thomas, smiling.

He stops, his face falling before he also smiles a bit. "Sorry. I'm just worried."

My arms slip around him. Immediately, he embraces me back.

"I'm so glad I walked in on you changing," he admits.

I would've snorted had I been able to.

Chuckling, he lets go off me. "Alright. Should I walk with you?"

I shake my head.

"Alright." Gally pats me on the head. "See you."

Before I leave, I scowl and motion between us, referring to our heights. Gally is tall, but I come past his shoulder—he is not allowed to pat my head like that.

"You're still shorter." He shrugs.

I would say he's about six feet two, and there's like six inches between us. It's fine.

I roll my eyes, hug him one last time, and wave goodbye. My backpack is heavy, but I made sure to pack useful things only. If I take personal items, there's also a chance I will lose them. Why risk it?

Thomas and Aris are already waiting, their silhouettes rather intimating in the dark.

I scribble something on a note and hand it to Thomas almost immediately.

'Did you tell Minho a proper bye?'

He nods.

I squint an eye.

"I swear I did."

There's something in his expression, a hint of unease, but I don't push it. I already know it's pointless to question him further. The truth will come out, one way or another.

Maybe he's slowly beginning to realize this might not be a good idea? And that Minho was right?

With a slight nod, I slip the sticky note back into my pocket and give Thomas a look. He catches it and raises an eyebrow.

"We should go," Aris says, his voice breaking through the silence. I meet his eyes for a brief second as well. He doesn't say much, but he doesn't need to. His calm demeanor says it all. He's ready.

Thomas starts moving toward the boat without another word, and I follow behind him. The sound of the water slapping against the shore fills the silence.

The boat is more decent than I thought. It's not very big, but nice for three. It looks like a house boat—there's a whole place inside.

Once we're settled, I glance around at the two boys, my stomach twisting with nerves. I wish I could speak and tell them everything I'm feeling right now, but all I can do is sit here and watch the world move forward around me. I scribble another note quickly.

'Don't get ahead of yourself.'

I pass it to Thomas. His eyes flicker over the words, hardening a little as he reads. He doesn't need to ask what I mean. But I can tell that his mind is somewhere else, focused on the journey ahead, on Newt, and I wonder if he even notices how far he's already gone in this obsession.

I'm serious, I add, though I know he can't hear my thoughts. It's one of the few things that frustrates me about being mute—people sometimes misunderstand what's truly important to me. They don't know what tone I'm trying to say something with.

Thomas's hand moves to the oar, and with a silent nod, he begins rowing.

I close my eyes for a moment, letting the motion of the boat pull me into a trance. The wind picks up slightly, brushing my hair across my face. It feels cool against my skin, but I ignore it. I forced myself to never complain about temperature again, after the Banishment.

"There's one king sized bed insides. We'll take turns sleeping, if everyone's okay with that. Two sleep while the other one rows," Thomas suggests. Aris and I both nod. "Alright. I'll row first."

❣︎

The air in the ruins of the Last City is thick with dust and the scent of death.

We've been searching for hours, picking through what's left of shattered buildings and overturned cars, our boots crunching against broken glass. It feels like a graveyard.

Aris walks ahead, his shoulders tense. He keeps looking over his shoulder, as if something might come alive and grab him. I can't blame him. The silence here is unnatural.

Thomas is completely quiet. And even though that's new for him, it makes perfect sense.

"Anything?" he asks eventually.

Aris shakes his head. "No. We're heading to the center, though. We should see if you recognize the spot Newt died on."

Thomas doesn't reply. I follow him, the weight of the bag on my shoulder digging into my sore muscles. We round a corner, stepping over the remains of a fallen wall, when I catch sight of something that makes me freeze.

There, half-buried in stone, is a hand.

I reach for Thomas's arm. He turns, his eyes narrowing when he sees where I'm pointing.

He's on it in an instant, dropping to his knees and yanking away chunks of concrete with a desperation that makes my chest tighten. Aris hesitates for a moment before joining him, his face pale.

The more they uncover, the clearer it becomes. It's a female. Dark hair, matted with dirt and blood. A reddish, open button up. A white tank top.

Thomas freezes when he uncovers her face.

"Teresa," he whispers, the word trembling on his lips. He reaches out a hand but stops himself from touching her cheek.

I stand back, unable to move, unable to do anything but watch. Her face is pale and hollow, but still recognizable. Her skin has began peeling off, revealing the layer below it. Harsh burn marks are visible all over her body.

Thomas lets out a strangled sound, halfway between a sob and a scream. He buries his face in his hands, his whole body shaking.

I automatically step back, horrified. Seeing someone grieve like this might be worse than a Banishment. Aris's shoulder brushes against mine, and it's slightly comforting, but this sight of Thomas will never leave my retina.

I've never seen him like this, not even when he talked about Newt.

I can hardly breathe. The world seems to freeze, my surroundings becoming a blur as Thomas crumbles before Teresa's lifeless form. His body shakes uncontrollably.

Aris doesn't move at first, his hands trembling at his sides, his eyes glued to the scene. There's a part of me that wants to reach out to Thomas, to say or do something, anything, but it feels useless.

I glance at Aris, who finally steps forward. "We could bury her, Thomas."

Thomas doesn't respond. His hands shake as they clutch at his hair, but he doesn't look away from Teresa's face.

I take a step forward, my legs moving instinctively, but I stop myself before I get too close. I don't know what to do. Do I comfort him? Do I leave him to process this? What could possibly help in a moment like this?

Aris takes the lead, moving to Teresa's side and gently lifting her body. I watch, helpless, as Aris carefully cradles Teresa's form, his face grim, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"We need to go. This won't help you," Aris says.

He doesn't respond, and for a second, I think he never will. But then he looks up at Aris, then at me. His eyes are red, raw, and full of so much pain I can barely look at him.

"I couldn't save her," he whispers, more to himself. "I couldn't save anyone."

I hate that I'm not able to convince him otherwise. Not right now, at least. Not without proper paper and a table.

Painfully, he rises to his feet, his hands trembling as he wipes at his face. "We'll bury her on her way back. We need to continue looking for Newt now. We must be close."