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About the Thomas that was before. He couldn’t leave a friend to die. Even someone as cranky as Alby.
It was you and me, Tom. We did this to them. To us.
Tommy, it’s not your fault. You’re a kid—you can’t help what they forced you to do.”
Holy crap, you’re human. You should be scared.”
Tonight, they’d fight. Tonight, they’d make their stand, once and for all.
Thomas held Teresa’s hand, let them all go past, felt them bump him, smelled their sweat, sensed their terror, waiting for the perfect opportunity to make his own dash.
six or seven vines
Oh, yeah? she replied. With all those stinky boys? Think not.
