The healer [Maze runner Newt x OC]

chapter seventeen

The Map Room was filled with the sound of rustling papers, hushed voices, and the faint scratching of markers on the maps. It had been a long evening, the hours stretching out as the group worked tirelessly. There was no time to rest. The weight of urgency hung heavy in the air, pressing down on their shoulders. They had to keep going.

Piper stood at the far end of the table, her eyes locked on the maps in front of her. She unfolded one after another, studying the lines of walls and corridors carefully. "Clint, can you mark this corner for me? It looks like a pattern," she said softly, her voice tense.

Clint nodded without speaking, his hands moving quickly with the marker. He could feel the tension in the air, but his focus was pure on the maps. Teresa sat next to him, her eyes glued to the stack of papers in front of her. Grace was determined not to miss a single detail. She had felt how important this night was, and she wasn't about to make a mistake.

Newt stood at the other side of the room, occasionally pacing a few steps forward, then pausing, his eyes scanning the table. He watched the others' work, but his mind was split. They knew the Grievers were getting closer, and with each passing minute, every decision, every movement, became more important than ever.

At that moment, they heard a noise outside the Map Room— a deep, hissing sound reverberating through the halls. Everyone froze. The unmistakable sound of the Grievers.

"They're coming," Piper said quickly, her voice shaking, but her hands stayed steady. "We need to keep going."

"And don't stop," Clint added firmly. "We've come this far."

Teresa nodded. "Stay focused. We need to figure out what this code means."

"Yeah, don't stop," Newt added, his voice calm but with an underlying urgency. "We can't let the Grievers distract us."

The room fell silent, the only sound being the soft tapping of markers on paper. They knew they had to be quick. The fear of the Grievers was palpable, but they couldn't afford to let it stop them.

The noise of the Grievers drew closer. The mechanical hisses echoed louder in the distance. Everyone froze again. There was no time for panic. Only work.

"Shhh..." Teresa suddenly whispered, her hands still. "Listen. They're here."

They all fell quiet. The sound of heavy footsteps, the mechanical clatter of Griever limbs on the stone floors, echoed through the hallways. It was terrifying, and even the group's determination seemed to falter for a moment.

But Newt was the first to recover. "Stay calm. Just keep working. They won't find us if we stay still."

Clint, his face paler than usual, nodded and set the markers down on the table. "We wait."

They held their breath, frozen in place. Time seemed to slow. How long would the Grievers stay? How close would they get?

The minutes stretched on. The group dared not move. The Griever sounds grew louder, closer, and then, suddenly, they faded away. They had passed.

Newt exhaled slowly, his hands shaking from the tension. "Alright, quick. Let's keep going."

Piper and Clint got back to work, faster this time. Teresa gave instructions, and Newt took charge of organizing the maps. There was no time to doubt, no time for mistakes.

They worked on, the tension between them thick. Every time the Grievers neared, they froze again. But every time, they went back to their work. There was no other choice.

Morning came and Grace sat next to Newt, placing a last piece of wax paper to the side as she yawned loudly, leaning her head onto his shoulder as she tried to get comfortable.