Jorge's words echo in my ears, pounding on the flesh within as if begging me to stop pretending I didn't hear them. We can't be here. I'm not ready. I'm not ready, I'm not ready, I'm not ready!

"Addy, hun," Harriet says, "we gotta go."

I shake my head, pinching my eyes closed and begging for the headache to GO AWAY. It doesn't listen.

Soft sobs interrupt my deranged thoughts and quiet the words echoing in my head. I peer over at Naomi where she sits in the sand, crying. Sonya wraps a thin arm across her shoulders, but it does no good. Sonya doesn't understand, but I do.

Wordlessly, I make my way out of the vehicle, much to Harriet's surprise.

Since Naomi is already known to have the Flare, there's no use in keeping us apart. I plop down on my knees in front of the girl and take her russet hands in my own.

"I'm not going to waste your time and say everything is going to be alright," I say, "because it's not. Not unless we do what we have to to get the Cure."

"I don't want to die." Naomi's voice cracks.

I brush the loose curl out of her face and tuck it behind her ear. "You don't deserve to."

The humvee rumbles beneath my feet, leaving us behind in the sand. A bead of sweat rolls down my forehead. Every streak it leaves behind as it makes its way to my chin tingles with a jarring reminder that I'm alive whether I want to be or not. I close my eyes and imagine the latter for a moment, relishing in the peace.

"Let's move." My brother's voice.

So we march.

Sun beats down on our backs like the eyes of a cat patiently waiting for the mouse to venture out of its hole, prepared to pounce and swat us down with one fatal blow. As sweat carves a path across my forehead and eyebrows, the moisture serves as a harsh reminder that my body will forget how to keep itself alive soon and stop trying to maintain a good temperature. What would it matter? I was as good as dead anyway. If a few fingers or toes fell off in the process, it wouldn't bother the Flare. More likely, my core would overheat. Could organs burn? Maybe my lungs were burning this very minute. Maybe that's why my blood boiled enough to long for violence. I was cooking inside out.

"Addy? Addy, you're scaring me." Fingers snap in front of my face and I have an inexplicable urge to bite them.

Somehow, I refrain. "What?" My voice is as dry as the sand crunching beneath my feet.

"You got that look," Sonya says, having fallen back in line beside me. Her accent is tainted in apprehension. She doesn't know what I might do to her. I don't know what I might do to her. "The one where you look like you want to rip out our brains and feast?"

"Well, that wouldn't be much of a feast," Minho chuckles. His shoulder bumps mine playfully as if we're back to the good old days. Back when we could joke around and nothing would ever hurt us. When the only concern was how to uncover Gally's secret recipe to the drink. Gally. Where is Gally?

"Touché!" Sonya laughs.

My head swivels around in search of the malformed potato nose. I try to break from the conversation and wander off, but I'm boxed in. Minho and Sonya keep me wedged in between them.

"What is this? You think I'm gonna go running and curse your Newt to this fate too? Is that why you're holding me hostage? Well don't worry," I shout, "your Newt is fine! I love him too! I wouldn't do that to him! I'm not crazy."

But, a voice in my head mutters, you are.

"SHUT UP!" A fist swings at my skull and beats down again and again. My fist.

"Addy, stop it!" Minho grasps my hand. I tear it away and pull it into my chest.

"Not," I mumble, "for you to hold."

My eyes flicker closed for a moment. Am I drunk? I didn't have any of Gally's drink today, did I? Gally. Where's Gally?

Something strange fills my chest. Are we walking in circles? The footprints behind us say no, but deja vu wash over me like a wave crashing against the beach.

The beach. Do I like the beach? I don't like the sand, that I know for sure. I hate the feeling of sand in between my toes and creeping down my socks. I'm drowning in the hot sand just like the tiny orange flag in the distance.

I'm not the only one to notice it either, it seems. Minho leaves my side to run to the stick and it's cloth counterpart and snatches it in his hands.

"The Safe Haven," he reads, dejectedly. The flag hits the ground with a puff of sand as Minho throws it down in frustration.

"That's the Safe Haven? It's a literal stick!" Harriet exclaims.

Thomas shoves through the small group and puts his hand out to demand the flag and see for himself. "We hardly have any time left! Our safe haven is a stick in the ground?"

Minho blows out a breath, saying, "Maybe we should just wait out the rest of our time and something will happen. They wouldn't send us here for no reason."

The entire group starts to object. A chorus of "I don't like this," "something bad is coming! I can feel it," and a bunch of sobs from those further Gone ring out. I pinch my eyes closed, but no tears escape this time. I'm not sure an ounce of water remains in my body, I must've cried it all out by now.

When I reopen my eyes, the world looks a little brighter, like sunglasses were removed from my face. For a moment, I have myself back and can see the world through my own eyes, not those of the Flare.

Thomas and Minho argue with the group B leaders about what we are to do. Nyomi and two of the other girls with the Flare lay in the sand in various states of mental decay; sobbing in fetal position, rocking back and forth in disbelief, and lying flat on the back in acceptance of fate. A few of the boys pace, but still, I can't see the one person I need.

Newt.

At last I find him. My boyfriend stands a few paces away from everyone else, back facing me. He stares out at the sand dunes beyond with his hands tangling themselves in his hair. His beautiful golden blond hair.

Subconsciously, I move to him. My hands flex and unflex, itching to be the ones running through his hair. To be the ones holding him. His safeguard. I want to protect his broken heart and let him protect mine. To cradle the bruised flesh and kiss it until the wounds disappear. I just want him. I want him to be mine. I want to be his. I want-

"Addy, what are you doing?"

I suck in a startled breath and it catches in my throat. Newt whips around, no more than six feet of distance between us. Distance that I'd closed. Sonya's hand presses on my shoulder and she guides me away, but my eyes never leave her brother.

I never turn away from his warm brown eyes or the glimmer of pain that float on top the chocolate pools. A sound that reminds me of a wounded animal escapes my mouth. Newt's eyebrows are drawn down and he mouths to me. Over and over again.

I never stopped loving you. I'll never stop loving you.

A cracking sound meets my ears. At first I wonder if the breaking of hearts is audible.

No. It's not.

I follow the direction Sonya's head swivels and see it.

Sand falls quickly down into a sinkhole shaped like a square. The ground opens into a pit longer and wider than two Minho's stacked on top of each other. My hands fly to my ears as the scraping starts, an awful, metallic noise. The ground starts to flip, but only inside the pit. A thick metal panel emerges from the sand and rolls over from it's back to... a white, egg-like chamber.

"Wha-" The question is left unfinished as the ground shudders beneath Sonya and I. We dart to the side as another of the objects uncovers itself. And another. And another and another and another until the space around the Gladers is filled with dozens of the chambers.

Minho's voice cuts through the growing chaos. "Those shuckers. Not again."

*A/N A VERYYYYY long awaited chapter! I really hope you've enjoyed so far! Thank you guys for sticking with me on this journey! I cannot believe that "The Bruised and the Broken" is up to 8.9k reads! That's insane! I cannot thank you enough for helping me get there! I love you all! i'll try to update sooner! Kind of lost interest in this story, but I'm getting back into the groove and, who knows, I might make a third book in this series! Thank you all again! So much loveeeeee <3 <3 <3 Thanks for listening to my rant! Love you, bye!*