When We're Older- The Maze Runner (Newt)

wicked

happy 7k!!! what the hell we were at 6k like a day ago u guys are so amazing oh my lord

   The sweat dripped from my forehead as we turned the corner and began running through the Maze. Nervous wasn't really the right word to describe what I was feeling. It was more of a combination between excitement and fright. Whatever the hybrid of the two is, that's what I was feeling in the moment.

   I kept looking back at Newt to see him hobbling along with the rest of us, a little farther back in the group because of his limp. I wasn't too far ahead of him, my leg was probably hurting just as much as his. But I kept running, knowing that if I stopped we would probably take much longer to get to the Griever hole.

   Minho led the way, like always. But this time was different. This time he wasn't just leading the Runners through the Maze for another day, but he was leading the Glade to their freedom. At least the ones who wanted to come. I've tried to catch up with him so I could talk to him for just a moment, but I always ended up feeling a sharp pain in my leg, so I just stayed back. I wonder what he's thinking though. Is he happy that we're leaving? Is he scared like everyone else? Or is he just focusing like he's running any other day through the Maze?

   Eventually, the Runner fell back with the rest of us—Frypan, Newt and I. He didn't say anything, I just think he might've been a bit worried that we would become detached from everyone. He knew I was fast, but with the bruise and new limp, I was just about as fast as anyone else. I tried to keep my breathing steady so that I wouldn't have to calm myself down from another asthma attack, which would not be good at the moment. But the pounding of my feet against the hard concrete was just about to send me over the edge.

   I coughed once into my elbow. I didn't look towards anyone to make it obvious that I was struggling a little, but I knew that some people could tell.

   Some people, being Newt.

   "Hey, you okay?" He ran along beside me. I nodded, not wanting to waste my breath on giving him an unhonest answer. Newt just nodded along with me, deciding not to question the matter any further until we were safe and we didn't have to run anymore.

   When I saw the giant number seven on the wall to my right, I almost cried out in joy. I couldn't feel my leg anymore, and my chest was starting to burn from the way I had to drag it along. At least you could say that I had a newfound respect for Newt and what he had to go through everyday. Thomas shouted encouraging words at us as we all reached the outer sections of the Maze, following the path that it had so kindly made in the middle of our run yesterday. At this point, I think Thomas, Minho and I were running for our lives and trying not to get squished. But all in good time... Everything happens for a reason.

   Finally, we made it past the Blades and to the catwalk that led to the ninja star. Thomas stopped and moved behind a wall, making all of us follow. He pressed his finger to his lips and shushed us, looking around the corner. He then turned back to us, fear plastered all over his face. I grabbed my spear from my satchel and held onto it, knowing what was to come without even having to look around the wall.

   "Is there a Griever?" Chuck asked, a panting mess from the journey we had just ran.

   Thomas nodded, looking at me, "Yeah."

   The little boy sighed and stomped his foot on the ground, annoyed, "Shit..."

   "You take this, Chuck," Minho handed him the key to the ninja star, surprisingly trusting him with such a thing. I would maybe think that the kid would drop it... "Stay behind us."