The Other Side - A Newt Fanfiction

Chapter Nine: Without Screaming and Mourning

AU: Chapter is scheduled for revision.

Jorge runs down the several flights of stairs. "We have to hurry if you kids don't want to get caught." He explains, hand gliding down the railing.
"Where exactly are we going?" Newt asks, panting as we rush behind.
"We've got some shelters to charge through." He explains as we make our way down the fourth flight of stairs. "The sun should be rising soon, but we're going to have to find a place to rest in the midst of all this mess."
Minho gives Jorge a judgmental look. "Rest while Thomas and Brenda are who-knows-where?"
"If you want the energy to be able to have a clear-minded search for your friend, then yes, we'll rest." He says.
Once we reach the bottom level, Jorge sprints through room after room, jumping over holes in the floor and wreckage.
He runs to the back door, swinging it open. "Go, go, go!" He waves us out.
We rush outside into the cold, the sky a dull blue as the sun begins to approach the horizon, not peeking over yet.
"Go inside there." Jorge commands, pointing at the next building behind us.
Running across the sand and sliding to the door, I turn the knob, only to find that it's locked.
"Move, (y/n)!" Fry shouts as he charges towards me.
As soon as I dive out of the way, Fry slams his body into the door, breaking it down.
"Run straight on through to the next back door!" Jorge calls from behind.
• • •
Eight buildings later, the sun begins to peek over the horizon, and the group finally begins to slow down as we step out the next back door into the sand, the sky a shade of very light purple.
"This is the place." Jorge says, rushing ahead to the nineth building, taking a key out of his pocket.
"What the...?" Minho mumbles.
"This," Jorge says, unlocking the door and slowly swinging it open, "This is the place where I've secretly stored extra supplies. I've cleaned the place up a bit, too."
I hesitantly walk inside, looking around in what seems to have been an old hotel, the rubble swept aside to make clear paths on the cracked tile floor, the sofas in the lobby layered with a bit of dust, but obviously having been cleaned not too long ago.
"Behind the front desk," Jorge says as the rest walk inside, "there's a door to a storage room. I've got all sorts of stuff that I've looted back there: food, weapons, you name it." He says. "And, best of all, I've done some work to get the bathroom sinks to run down here." He says proudly.
A small smile growing on my face, I nod, pretty amazed.
Minho runs to one of the couches and jumps on it, sprawling out with a comfortable sigh.
"We'll be here an hour." Jorge says. "So wash up, get some new packs and supplies from the storage room, and rest a bit. I'll be planning our next moves in the midst of it all."
"Let's go get some supplies!" Aris says, grabbing my arm and running to the storage room.
As soon as we go inside, my face lights up when I spot more bottles for water and backpacks.
I walk to the shelves, taking down a black backpack and opening it, grabbing some empty bottles to fill with water in the bathroom and tossing in some bags of food, like peanuts and crackers, into my pack, Aris doing the same.
The two of us rummage around the storage for a few short minutes, soaking up the safety of silence like we have done since we escaped the Maze.
"Do you think Thomas and Brenda really survived?" Aris eventually asks out of the blue.
A small frown tugs on the corner of my lips as I slow to a stop in my searching, sighing as I trail my eyes to the floor. "I don't know..." I furrow my brows together, giving Aris a puzzled glance. "I thought you said you trusted Thomas?"
Aris nods, clenching his jaw as he lowers his head in shame. "I do. It's just... He has no power over whether he dies or not. That's not really something any of us can control. Besides, someone needed to agree in order to get the rest of us to follow Jorge, or WICKED would've found us."
I purse my lips together, sighing heavily. "Well," I pause, attempting to find the right words to say, "Newt's known Thomas longer than the both of us, and he has confidence that Thomas is alive, so I think he is. Besides, Minho is napping just fine, so he's just as confident about their best friend's survival."
Biting his lip, Aris nods slowly, taking a deep breath as we return to silence.
However, this silence does not feel safe.
I awkwardly clear my throat. "I'll be right back. I'm going to fill up these bottles with water."
Aris nods, not saying a word as he rummages around. I see him pull a handgun off of the shelf, checking to see if it's loaded.
I walk back out quietly, tossing the bag over my shoulder as I make my way to the bathrooms and quietly open the door, looking around in the dark. Flipping the switch to the right of me, the lights flicker on in an eerie manner. I gulp nervously, walking to the sinks and setting my pack on the counter, unzipping the bag and opening a bottle as I turn on a sink. Filthy water spouts out, but it clears up after a few seconds, and I fill up the first bottle.
As I switch over to the second bottle, there's a quiet knock on the doorframe, causing me to jump. Looking to the doorway, I see Newt with his arms full of empty bottles. "Mind if I join?"
I smile with a sigh of relief, shaking my head. "Of course not."
Newt walks over to the sink beside me, setting the bottles down on the counter and filling them up one-by-one. "Soooo," he begins, clearing his throat, "we've got an hour to settle down for a bit." He says. "I guess it's a good time to actually talk to one another about things that don't involve screaming 'run' or mourning over loss."
I laugh lightly, nodding. "Good idea."
Newt chuckles softly as he fills another bottle, closing the lid. "So a Maze full of girls, yeah?"
I nod. "Yep."
"How was your leadership system?" He asks curiously.
I can't tell him the truth- at least, not the whole truth. If I did, it would be something like, 'Well, I was in charge, but that makes me at fault of all the losses, and I have managed to unveil that I have poor leadership skills through my cowardice and all of the people I have left behind.' I need to lie. Now.
"Well, there was a girl named Susan. She was the first in charge." I lie. "Then Cleo was the second." Susan was the second, and Cleo was the leader of the Builders.
"Interesting. Any jobs?"
"We had several. Gardeners, Builders, Mappers– or Runners in your case, etcetera."
Newt lifts a brow. "And you were?" He asks, taking a swig from one of the bottles.
"A Runner." I say simply and honestly, though avoiding the mentioning of my more authoritative position.
Newt suddenly spits out his water, and he clasps his hand over his mouth as I stare at him with wide eyes, confused.
"Sorry..." he eventually gets out, clearing his throat and wiping his mouth.
I manage to laugh weakly. "What was that about?"
"It's just... That's a very risky job." He says.
I shrug. "I guess so. What did you do in your Maze?"
"I was the second in command." He says, closing another full bottle.
Smiling, I reply, "That's amazing. You must be very responsible." Unlike myself.
Newt laughs as if there's an irony that I'm failing to see. "Eh, it was kind of a made up position for the crippled kid in our case."
I frown, puzzled. "The crippled kid?"
Newt pats his bad leg as a reminder. "My bloody limp kept me from doing extraneous activities for long periods of time. However, I did work as a Track-Hoe." He says.
"What's that?" I ask.
"The equivalent to your Maze's Gardeners, I assume." He clarifies.
"Ohhhhh," I nod.
"Yep."
"What were the others?"
"Well, Minho, he was a Runner, but not just any Runner; he was the Keeper of the Runners."
"Keeper?"
"The Keeper is basically the boss. Frypan was our cook, which I guess is pretty self explanatory." He chuckles. "Thomas became a Runner. Winston was a Slicer."
"What one's that?" I ask. "Is that working in something like a slaughter house?"
Newt nods. "That's exactly it."
I close the lid to my last bottle, putting it in my pack. I feel the impulse to ask Newt if he's always had the limp, but I decide against it. "Frypan had said he misses the 'Glade'. Is that what you called the heart of your Maze?" I ask.
He nods. "Boys came up into the Glade by the Box."
I snicker. "Girls came up into the Heart by the Cage." I say, switching their terms to ours.
Newt giggles, smiling as he closes the lid to another one of his bottles.
I cup my hands under the water that runs from the sink, rinsing off my face. Opening my eyes, I can see dirt and dry blood swirling down the drain, causing my stomach to turn. I lean down over the sink to wash with more ease.
The door to the bathroom suddenly swings open to someone whistling, the door slamming against the wall and causing me to jump with a start, hitting the top of my head on the faucet of the sink. "Ouch!" I hold my head, standing straight up.
"Minho, you bloody shank!" Newt exclaims. "You made (y/n) nearly knock herself out!"
Minho snickers. "Oops." He says sassily.
I roll my eyes, hopping up and sitting on the counter, swinging my legs as I wet my hands in the sink, brushing my fingers through my hair in attempt to clean it a bit. "You are such a pain."
"I try." He says simply.
Rinsing my hair slowly but surely, I pull my hair back into a ponytail with the hair-tie from my wrist, sighing in content. "We were just sharing stories from our Mazes." I inform Minho.
"Oh yeah?" He smirks. "Has Newt told you the story when he accidentally-"
"SHUT YOUR SHUCK MOUTH, YOU BLOODY SHANK!" Newt suddenly shouts, basically tackling Minho in attempt to shut him up.
I laugh, growing curious. "The more you get defensive about it, the more I want to know this story."
Newt and Minho freeze mid-fight, Newt's hands clasped over Minho's mouth before he sighs and lets go of Minho, who looks at him in confusion.
"I... I went to the bloody Homestead to change–"
"Wait, you're gonna tell her?!" Minho exclaims in excitement.
"I'd rather me do it than you!" Newt groans, running his fingers through his hair. "Minho here had said new clothes came up in the box, so I bloody-"
There's a loud cracking sound that comes from one of the stalls, causing all of us to jump and snap our heads in it's direction, interrupting Newt.
"What the shuck was that...?" Minho whispers, looking to Newt in suspicion.
"I don't know..." Newt whispers in return, staring at the closed stall door and clenching his jaw. He slowly steps towards the door.
"Newt, be careful." I whisper, watching anxiously.
He nods, slowly reaching out towards the door, hand shaking.
As Newt slowly pushes the door open, it creaking loudly, he is suddenly tackled to the tile ground, causing me to scream in terror.
A horrendously grotesque Crank pins Newt to the ground, snapping it's teeth at him as he tries to push him off.
"NEWT!" I exclaim, about to dive at the monster.
However, Minho grasps my arm, stopping me. "(y/n), don't! I got this!" He says sternly. "GET AWAY FROM MY FRIEND, YOU SHUCKING BEAST!" He suddenly shouts, charging at the two and yanking the rotting monster off of Newt by the back of it's torn up shirt, slamming it against the wall.
The Crank shrieks as Minho slams it against the tile wall over and over, its dark, rotted, clumping blood splatting on the tile.
Minho screams and curses, completely enraged, taking out all of his anger on the horrifying creature.
In all honesty, the fiery rage from Minho scares me more than WICKED and the Cranks combined. Thank God we're not his enemies.
It looks as if Minho is extremely close to draining the life from the beast, but it manages to shove back against Minho, pushing him to the ground with a sudden burst of inhuman strength.
Before the Crank can tackle or do anything to Minho, the bathroom door slams open, revealing Aris, who points a gun straight at the beast. "DIE, YOU UGLY SHANK!" He shouts the Glader terms with ease before pulling the trigger.
I shield my eyes when the gun goes off, hearing the Crank let out an agonized, choking cry before slumping to the floor.
It lets out disturbing cries and gurgles for a solid minute before it is actually dead.
Trembling, I uncover my eyes, gaping at the twitching corpse on the ground, but I snap out of the stare when I hear Newt groan as he slowly sits up.
"Are you okay?!" I ask, quickly pulling Newt to his feet and examining him for any scratches or bites.
He nods reassuringly. "I'm alright, I'm alright..."
Staring up at him for a moment as he dusts himself off, I suddenly hug Newt tightly, squeezing him with all my might.
Taken aback, Newt slowly returns the embrace.
Aris, trying to catch his breath, slowly lowers the gun, looking to Minho. "You good?"
Minho, staring at Aris in shock, nods before adding, "That was shucking awesome!"
Like I said: Minho's crazy and invincible.
Fry, Teresa, and Jorge rush to the doorway, stopping in their tracks as they lay their eyes on the Crank.
"What happened?" Teresa asks, worried.
I avert my eyes from the creature to the three of them. "There was a Crank in the stall."
"Luckily, I was examining the weapons in the storage room. As soon as I heard screaming, I came running." Aris adds.
Jorge squeezes past the others in the doorway, walking over to the Crank and using his foot to flip it onto its back. He cringes at the remains of it's face. "We need to go." He mutters under his breath, turning and rushing out.
"There goes the other thirty five minutes of our rest time." Frypan jokes lightly.
"Finish packing!" Jorge calls from outside the restroom. "Now that the place has been breached, we need to leave as soon as possible."
I nod, helping Newt put his waters into my pack before tossing it over my shoulder and filing out with the others quickly.
"Did you still manage to come up with a plan?" Aris asks Jorge.
He nods, zipping up his pack that sits on the front desk, bulky with an abundance of supplies stuffed inside. "I know exactly where they went."
I distort my face. "And that is?"
"They went to Marcus."
"Who's Marcus?"
"He's an old friend of mine who's been helping smuggle kids to the Safe Haven."
"The Safe Haven?"
"You know, hermana. Paradise." He explains. "That's where the Right Arm is headed, and you kids are mine and Brenda's ticket in, too."
Newt furrows his brows, adjusting his scarf as we follow Jorge out the back door, into the blinding sunlight. "Why didn't you just go with Marcus?"
"Well, first off, the Right Arm only takes Immunes, and, second, I have not heard from him in a long time, though I've heard some rumors about him." He explains as we walk along the dirt road of the city in ruins. "I should have told Brenda about what people were saying about him..."