little immune {the scorch trials} (request)

˜"*°• 26 •°*"˜

They drove quickly through the rocky terrain, Thomas frantically holding an unconscious Y/n. Sonya and Harriet told brief stories of life in their Maze while Minho and Newt talked about the Glade, but Thomas barely heard any of it over the war raging in his mind. If Y/n had been so sick all this time, why hadn't she told any of them how bad it was? Looking back on it, Thomas started to remember all the signs. How pale and tired she always seemed, yet insistent on continuing the journey. How could he have let this happen?

Occasionally, Newt would reach over and squeeze Thomas's arm in reassurance. It did make him feel a little better, but it wasn't enough. He just desperately needed to make sure Y/n was going to be okay.

Finally, the car stopped along with the one trailing behind it, and the kids stepped out to examine the scene before them. Hundreds people roamed the sandy clearing, drifting in and out of tents, finding others to mingle and socialize with. The satisfying scent of cooking meat wafted through the Gladers' noses, just begging them to come have a taste. 

Thomas knew he would've been able to enjoy it more if it hadn't been for the girl struggling to breathe in his arms, who deserved to see this place way more than anyone else did.

"They've been planning this for over a year now," said Harriet, seeing the amazed faces of the others. "This is all for us."

"You guys are lucky you found us when you did," Sonya added. "We're moving out at first light."

"What?!" Thomas's eyes widened. "But—but Y/n ... Look at her! She's sick! She could die!"

Sonya put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry. We've got some of the best medics in the world with us. They're going to take good care of her, I promise." She turned to Harriet. "Where's Vince?"

"Somewhere over there, I think," the other girl replied, pointing in a direction.

"Who's Vince?" Thomas asked.

Harriet raised her eyebrows at him. "He's the one who decides if you get to stay."

"I thought the Right Arm was supposed to be an army," Minho pointed out.

"We were," said a mysterious voice, and the Gladers turned to see a middle-aged man with sandy brown hair and a beard walking toward them. "This is all that's left of us." He eyed the group of newcomers suspiciously. "Lot of good people died getting us this far. Who are these guys?"

"They're immunes," answered Harriet. "Caught them coming up the mountain."

Vince narrowed his eyes. "Did you check 'em? What about the girl who's unconscious? She looks sick."

Harriet shrugged. "I know this guy, Aris. I trust him."

"And Y/n may be sick, but it's not the Flare!" Thomas jumped in, though he wasn't sure whether he was trying to convince the Right Arm's leader or himself. But if Y/n did have the Flare ... No, that was impossible. She was immune, right? Just like the rest of them. Then again, they'd all thought Winston was immune, and look how that turned out. "Look, we're all safe, alright?"

Clearly the universe really had it out to get Thomas. Because right then, Brenda started letting out loud, wheezy breaths, and collapsed forward into the dirt. Jorge dashed toward her in a panic, calling her name and shaking her. He picked her up just enough to turn her around in his arms and get a good look at her face.

"I'm sorry," Brenda moaned. "I'm sorry."

The sight of her made Thomas's stomach recoil. Her once olive skin had gone pale white, and dark blue veins were visible beneath it. Her lips had gone blue as well. Confused, Vince slowly moved toward her and bent down to check the skin on other parts of her body. He cautiously rolled up one of her pant legs to see her shin, then cursed and jumped away from her at the sight before him. Everyone else followed suit.

On Brenda's left leg was an enormous purple and blue bite. And there was only one sort of creature who could have left a mark like that.

Vince pulled out a pistol and aimed it at Brenda. "Crank!" he exclaimed. "We got a Crank!"