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

bertha

NEWT

   We weren't walking. We weren't running.

   We were driving.

   I had my hand outside the window, feeling the cold, refreshing air blow through my messy hair as we drove on the road. Despite all being squished together, I felt relieved. Calm for the first time in what felt like forever. I moved my hand as though the air passing beneath it were waves...and I was perfectly content.

   This was the first time that I could remember ever being in a moving vehicle besides a helicopter. Outside the window, the world flew by. My eyes tried to catch onto something, but as quickly as I had spotted it, it disappeared. To me, this was mesmerizing. The world could be dying outside of this window, and it wouldn't matter to any of us because we wouldn't stop in time to catch a glimpse of it.

   I watched the clouds roll by, and the grass too. It was like the wind was blowing them too fast for me to see. But the sounds of the engine rolling against the asphalt put me in this state of tranquility I hadn't been in since that day I had my head on Mae's lap. Even then, I was mourning the death of Alby. She sat right next to me. Her head rested on my shoulder, and her eyes were focused on watching the world from the window in the front of the car. Our hands were intertwined on her knee, my thumb running against her bruised knuckles.

   None of us spoke as we traveled down that road. The silence was comforting for once. Minho sat next to Mae, the rest of our friends in the seats behind us. She had mentioned how she wanted to sit in between the two of us. We didn't ask why...she had been drugged and left in the corner of a room unconscious. Minho was the one who found her. With the music blaring in our ears, we lifted the girl into the air, carefully carrying her until we got to an empty room. I sat her down on the bed, and from there we waited as Jorge located Marcus, bringing him in and tying him to a chair.

   And now, we were on our way to the Right Arm. I still didn't exactly know who they were—the only information that I had being that they were against WICKED. That's all the facts I needed to be on board and follow Thomas to wherever he was going. I would follow him anywhere, no matter what the plan was. Whether it was stupid or not. I hoped he knew that.

   I glanced down at Mae, seeing her blue eyes blink once as she nuzzled closer to me. I felt my heart burst at the action, and I gently pressed my lips to her temple, laying a soft kiss on her hair. She quietly hummed in pleasure, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. I leaned my head on top of hers, my gaze falling to the window once more as we turned, continuing on the path through the mountains.

   As we drove past a patch of trees that blocked our view, we finally got a clear sight of what we were above. The hills were dead—so were the plants—but I sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of being able to see so far. I could spot more distant mountains, but they were nothing but a blur as we kept driving. Telephone poles were scattered across the land, useless for the situation of the world. Unless cell phones were still a thing. But I had a feeling that those were as significant as the scarf I had taken from the mall.

   Although most of the land was burned out—dust covering most of the life that used to be there—I still found it strangely beautiful. The sight I was seeing was broken, but gorgeous. I looked back at Mae, the thought reminding me of her. There was still so many things that she had to open up to me about, and I could say the same about myself. If anyone was broken, it was me. Hell, I even had evidence in my leg. What made me wonder was why she would stick around for this long...if I told her why I was the way I was, would she stay?

   My heart sank as my insecurities ate at my mind, all begging to break down the low wall of confidence I had found a way to build up this past month. I swallowed the lump in my throat, the thoughts all beginning to do their work as they found any weapon they could, banging and punching at that weak barrier between what was good for me and who I was before. But I couldn't let them win. The last time I did that, it didn't quite work out as I had hoped. I'm still here, aren't I?