The healer [Maze runner Newt x OC]

Chapter eight

Grace peered down into the sewer as Gally lowered the ladder. Frypan placed a hand on Gally's shoulder, stopping him for a moment. "Gally, take care of these three."

"Yeah, got it," Gally replied, descending first.

Thomas followed close behind while Grace tied her hair into a loose bundle. As she glanced over her shoulder, she noticed Newt flexing his hand uneasily before giving her a small nod and heading down the ladder.

The murky smell hit her the moment she climbed down, the sound of trickling water echoing around them.

"Ugh, this is disgusting," Newt's thick accent rang out, breaking the silence as their flashlights bobbed through the sewer's shadows.

"Jesus," Thomas muttered, his flashlight illuminating the water beneath their boots. He glanced at Gally. "Yeah, this is just great."

Gally veered toward the side and flipped a switch, bathing the tunnel in dim fluorescent light. "Stay close. We've got a long way to go," he said, trudging forward.

Grace winced as her boots splashed through the grimy water. She silently thanked her foresight to wear something sturdy instead of sneakers.

"Hey, Gally," Newt called from behind. "How'd you end up with a bloody Crank as a roommate?"

"Funny story," Gally replied, glancing over his shoulder. "I actually owe that Crank my life. When Lawrence and his crew found me, they could've sold me back to WICKED—traded me for a few bottles of serum. Instead, he gave me a place. Gave me something to fight for."

As Gally shone his flashlight into an adjacent tunnel, Thomas frowned. "What's that?"

"Wait here," Gally instructed, disappearing into the smaller passage.

Thomas stepped forward, trying to peer after him. He reached for Grace's flashlight, but she snatched it away, smirking. "Get your own."

Thomas sighed and turned to Newt. "What do you think? Can we trust him? After everything he's done?"

Newt hesitated, his gaze darting to the tunnel before settling on Thomas. "What other choice do we have? And believe it or not, there was a time when Gally was a true friend to me."

Grace nodded in agreement. "We might not have always seen eye to eye, but he was our friend."

Before Thomas could respond, Gally reappeared, his expression calm. "It's clear. Let's move."

Thomas exchanged a wary glance with Grace and Newt before following Gally into the tunnel.

The hum of machinery echoed eerily through the damp, dimly lit tunnel. Grace's breath came in short, uneven gasps as the guards dragged her forward. The air was thick with the scent of damp concrete and chemicals. Her bare feet scraped against the cold floor, her body weakened from the days—weeks?—she had spent in WICKED's grasp.