Him || The Scorch Trials

Thirty One

He had been shot.

Shot. Hurt.

A bullet had torn through his flesh, but Mara didn't see where the bullet had entered his body. Instead, in a rush of anger and fear, Mara gripped her gun harshly, aiming it at the man beyond, the man that had shot Thomas.

However, before she could shoot, a body threw itself upon the man, hitting and kicking.

Minho.

Knowing that the man was being taken care of, Mara rushed forward alongside Newt and a few others as she stuffed the gun back under her waistband, all gathering around Thomas. Now that she was closer, Mara could see the blood pouring from Thomas' arm, just above his armpit, the red substance cascading through his broken flesh.

They had to get him somewhere safe, get him away. Mara had remembered the room they had left was currently home to many Cranks, who could easily come out and join the frenzy. They had to get Thomas away.

"He shot me." Thomas spoke with an atmosphere of shock, as if the situation hadn't sunk in yet.

Mara didn't know how to sooth him, or how to make him feel better. Instead, she just looked down at him, lying across the floor, her hand holding his tightly. She didn't know when they had started to hold hands, but they had, and she didn't know if it was to comfort him or herself. She didn't let go.

"It's okay," was all she could whisper, over and over, even though she couldn't convince herself that she was right.

Her throat was constricting again, something she had experienced before. Why did this have to keep happening? She was going to fight it, she wasn't going to pass out this time. She couldn't leave Thomas, she had to be there for him.

A Glader Mara didn't know the name of peeled his shirt off his sweaty body, thrusting it into Newt's hand, who then pressed it tightly against Thomas' wound. Thomas cried out when the shirt and wound connected, and Mara could see his eyes drifting in and out of consciousness.

"Stay with us Tommy." Mara told him, squeezing his hand a little as she tried to steady her own breaths. He squeezed back weakly.

"I can get that sucker out of him." Jorge raised his voice over the commotion, coming from somewhere behind Mara. "But I'll need a fire."

"We can't do this here." Newt answered, turning his head slightly to look at Jorge, but making sure the shirt was still firmly pressed against Thomas.

"Newt, tie the shirt tightly around his arm." Mara said firmly, surely that would be more secure than holding it there. They could use an extra pair of hands. Newt looked at Mara and nodded silently, doing as she said.

"Let's get out of this shuck city!" Minho yelled, jumping to his feet. Mara had only just noticed that the fight between himself and the man with the gun had ceased, and now Minho was the only one standing. The other lay across the floor still, whether or not he was alive, Mara couldn't tell.

After Newt had tied the shirt securely to Thomas' arm, a few of the Gladers came forward, reaching Thomas' body.

"All right." The boy who had handed Newt his shirt spoke up, at the same time beginning to grip Thomas' body. "Help me carry him."

Mara did what she could, helping a group of boys including Minho, who had joined them, get a solid grip on Thomas' body. Mara counted to three, and then they lifted him towards the sky, trying their best to cause the least amount of pain possible.

Minho decided that he would carry Thomas. "Everyone else needs to watch out for Cranks. Keep Thomas covered." He had demanded, and he was right. They needed to get away, but that didn't mean it was going to be a walk in the park. They still had to get beyond the city first, and that meant walking through the heart of the Cranks.