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"What?!" I exclaimed, but Newt slapped his hand over my mouth.

His skin was still warm from sleep.

"Not here." He took my hand and stood up, leading me away from the sleeping Gladers.

 The single stall bathroom had dingy lighting and white tiled flooring. Brenda explained yesterday that it didn't originally have a shower, but they stole a camping shower when the sun flares hit.

That shower contraption was hanging in the corner, and worked by pouring a few gallons in the bucket. And it would drip through a shower head attached to it. The water wasn't warm, but it was clean.

Someone had used it the night before, water was everywhere. Newt was focused on it.

I pulled his gaze back to mine, "Newt, what are you trying to say?"

He pursed his lips, "I overheard Jorge and... Cally talking last night. They're gonna sell us."

What he was suggesting was absurd, Cally would never betray me.

"That's insane, Newt. Cal-"

"-has been apart from us for a while, Felix. We have no idea what happened to her while she was missing."

I frowned, "Are you saying she lied?"

He shrugged, "I don't know. I just know what I heard last night."

I sighed, "Right, which was?"

"Jorge knows a militia group, and there's a large bounty out there for us. He wants to sell us to the militia for goods."

"Why would Cally be okay with that?"

"She's working with them, I think. Offering her medical skills and in return, they protect her."

I stepped away from him and leaned against the cold wall.

"I don't know, Newt. I think you have the wrong idea."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I think we need to leave, Felix. I don't like the vibe of this place."

"Newt..." I crossed my arms over my chest. "This is the first time we've been able to really rest since the Glade... Maybe we should take it easy and enjoy it. Besides, Minho's still hurt. We can't go anywhere."

Newt clenched his teeth. "Fine. For Minho. But I want you to be armed." He pulled a pistol out of his waistband, holding the deadly weapon out to me.

"Jesus christ, Newt! Why do you have that?" I pushed his hand away, wanting nothing to do with the firearm.

He took my wrist and pressed his gun into my hand. "I swiped it off of a dead guard back in the beginning of the Scorch."

"Newt-" I spluttered. The metal was cold and smooth in my palm.

"Do you know how to use it?" His hair fell into his eyes, which had gone dark and scary.

"No... you do?"

He grimaced, "We aren't in the Glade anymore, Felix. Things are... much more dangerous out here."

I shook my head, holding out the gun to him again. "Newt, we have a system for these things, we take a vote and we have rules-"

"Look around, Felix!" He raised his arms, outstretched like he could fly. "There aren't anymore bloody Keepers or Slammers. The rules are fucking gone." His voice was bitter.

I scrunched my brow, "Newt, what's wrong? Let me help-"

He shook his head again, "I don't want to die, 'Lix... I don't." His voice went from firm and bitter to scared and quiet.

To Capture A Heart | The Maze RunnerWaar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu