Error | The Maze Runner / Newt ² ✓

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Disclaimer:

*Sings 'Stressed Out' by Twenty-One Pilots the entire time I'm writing this chapter*

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Newt was called to lead after that, which of course meant I was coming with him. The two of us draped both of our sheets over each of our bodies so we'd have double the protection, but even that didn't help much. We were lucky that the sun was going down. It drained the sky of color and painted purple hues across the horizon, something the artificial sun in the Glade had never been able to capture the true beauty of. It made me even angrier after thinking about the Maze.

"What do you think we'll find at the town?" Newt asked me, voice hoarse from the dry air. "Personally, I think it'll be nothing but a few remaining Cranks and the rest'll be wasteland. No point in gettin' our hopes up."

I shrugged in response. "I don't know. I mean, it'd be nice to have some sort of break when we get there. Something tells me that's not gonna happen. Why send us here if the only challenge was heat and some people?"

Newt turned to the other side as he coughed. The sand was getting everywhere even with no wind- into our eyes, our hair, and our lungs. I was starting to miss the dewy grass in the Glade with how barren the Scorch was.

Darkness fell and we continued on. The temperature started dropping fast. A distant memory of geography told me that it was how deserts usually were- unbearably hot during the day and freezing at night. Pretty soon we'd be using the sheets as blankets instead of covers.

I kept my eyes on the sky for most of the duration of our walk. The stars started to scatter across the black sky, spilling across the inky void like sugar across obsidian. It was breathtaking to examine the twinkling white lights so high above us and yet seeming so close.

Then I heard a female's voice scream.

I stopped dead in my tracks, causing the sheet to slip off of me and my arms to be exposed to the cool air. The sound was definitely there. It was hard to distinguish above the rustling of packs, chattering of Gladers, and heavy breaths, but my ears could pick out that sound from anywhere. It sounded like a wailing, injured animal. The scream was guttural and originated from somewhere deep in the soul. It chilled me to the bone.

The others stopped moving as well, listening in on the screams. They echoed across the desert in such a way that made it almost impossible to determine where they were coming from. For all we knew, they could be coming from the town.

"You know what this reminds me of?" Minho asked in a whisper, edged with fear.

"Ben. Alby. Dylan. Me, I guess?" Thomas guessed breathlessly. "Screaming after the Griever sting?"

"You got it."

My heart started to beat a little faster at the mention of the monsters that had haunted us in the Maze. Being stuck in there overnight had been something out of a nightmare, and the final battle with them still haunted every waking hour. All of the lives we had lost to those monsters were too many to count. Garret, Max, Zart, Gally, Alby...all had perished by the claws of those beasts.

"No, no, no," Frypan groaned. "Don't tell me we're going to have those suckers here, too. I can't take it!"

"Doubt it," Newt responded more calmly. "Remember how moist and gooey their skin was? They'd turn into a big dust ball if they rolled around in this stuff."

"Well," Thomas huffed, "if W.I.C.K.E.D can create Grievers, they can create plenty of other freaks of nature that might be worse. Hate to say it, but that rat-lookin' guy said things were finally going to get tough."