The First Runner: Endgame

Jess POV

I leaned against the metal table, arms crossed over my stolen WICKED uniform. No helmet, though—I refused to wear that piece of trash until I had to. I watched Teresa work, just like I had for the others, keeping my expression neutral, unreadable.

But inside?

Inside, I was coiled tight, a predator watching its prey.

She had been efficient, cold, removing each of our trackers like it was nothing. Like we were nothing.

But with Thomas, she hesitated.

Blood ran in a thin line down his neck as she pressed a cloth against the wound she had just made. Her fingers were steady, her face unreadable, but there was something else—something just beneath the surface.

I tilted my head slightly, studying her.

Guilt? Regret?

Too late for that.

Brenda moved in the background, adjusting straps, checking supplies. Teresa's gaze flicked toward her, sharp and assessing.

"She's looking good," Teresa said suddenly. "Healthy."

Something in her voice put me on edge.

Her eyes found Thomas. "How have you been getting her serum?"

Thomas's frown deepened. "What are you talking about?"

Teresa barely even looked at him. "Brenda." Her voice was quieter, almost to herself. "I didn't think she'd still be alive."

I straightened slightly.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked, voice smooth, careful.

Teresa ignored me. "When was her last treatment?" she asked Thomas.

His jaw clenched. "At the Right Arm. The last time we saw you."

Teresa went still.

Her eyes darkened, calculating something.

"But that was months ago,*" she muttered, half to herself. "Thomas, that's not possible. She should have turned by now. There's no way she could possibly still be..."

She didn't finish. She didn't have to.

Brenda's movements stilled.

I saw it then—the flicker of fear in her expression. It was gone in an instant, but I caught it.

Thomas shoved up from the chair, pressing the cloth harder against his neck. "All right, that's enough."

Teresa's lips pressed into a thin line. "You don't believe me?"

Thomas turned on her, stepping forward, right into her space. "Do you really expect me to?" His voice was low, sharp. "You made your choice."

Teresa didn't flinch.

Neither did he.

I smirked. If she thought she was going to guilt-trip Thomas, she was dead wrong.

From across the room, Gally spoke up, voice casual but laced with suspicion. "Everything okay over here?"

Thomas didn't break eye contact with Teresa.

"Yeah." His voice was flat. "Yeah, we're done."

His gaze lingered a second longer before he turned and walked away.

I let out a slow breath through my nose, shaking my head. "Damn, you really don't know when to stop, do you?"

Teresa finally looked at me. "I was telling the truth."