Chapter Nineteen: The Boy That Died

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"Good job, hermanos. You almost survived an entire day by yourselves." Jorge calls back to us, chuckling as he speeds along the winding dirt road.
As I look over my shoulder to look back at Jorge and Brenda in the front, I see Brenda turning backwards in her seat, smirking and shaking her head at Thomas.
"What?" Thomas says.
She simply continues to shake her head with the sly expression in her face.
"I didn't mean to get you two involved..." Thomas admits.
She laughs lightly, looking to Jorge.
"I think he means to say thank you for saving us." Fry says, leaning forward to peek his head between Newt and Thomas, grinning.
Brenda looks back at us. "You're welcome." She smirks before turning back around to face forward in her seat.
Holding my bandaged hand in pain, I look at Newt in concern, who's clenching his jaw, scowling.
I use my good hand, though it's covered in scratches from the glass and my own dry blood, to gently grasp Newt's. I shake my head. "She did what she could..." I mumble, causing Thomas to look to Newt nervously.
Newt just stares out the opening to the side, silent.
The wind from the speeds of the car blows my hair about, and I stare out of the back of the truck, past Fry, watching the dust rise to the air from behind us.
"That was the last surviving checkpoint for the city's defense. If that place was overran by Cranks, you can bet that the Last City is, too." Jorge explains.
I shift my eyes to Newt just as his face falls as he looks out to his left. "Unless they figured out a new way to keep the Cranks out." He mumbles in disbelief, his blonde hair falling into his eyes.
I turn my head to look in the direction that Newt's staring off into, and I can't help but gasp.
A massive city glimmers in the distance, towering buildings stretching to the sky at heights far greater than the Maze walls. Towering concrete walls surround the perimeter of the Last City, blocking all life off from the inside.
Jorge, looking to the city, suddenly pulls the car over to the side of the road, shutting it off and jumping out.
Newt carefully hops out through the framing of the truck before turning around and holding me by the waist, helping me out of the vehicle and to the dirt ground.
Our group quietly walks towards the edge of the road, a few feet away from where it drops off to a ledge, examining the sight in awe.
"It's funny," Newt mumbles, putting his hands on his hips, "three years we spent behind walls, trying to break out, and now..." he sighs, "we're trying to break back in."
Frowning, I look to Newt as he averts his eyes to me, shaking his head with a heavy sigh.
"How do we get in?" Thomas asks, turning to Jorge.
"Don't ask me, hermano." Jorge says, sliding off his gloves. "Those walls are new. That must be WICKED's answer to the Crank problem."
"Walls are their answer to every problem..." I mutter flatly.
Jorge nods, but his eyes shift to my bandaged hand as he looks to me.
"Well, we won't find the entrance from all the way out here." Brenda chimes in. "Come on, let's head to the city." With that, she rushes back to the car, Jorge following behind as Fry slips back into the truck bed.
Newt, hands on his hips, limps to Thomas's side. There's a long pause before he asks, "You really think Minho's in there?"
Looking to Newt, Thomas shrugs. "I guess we'll just have to find out..." He mumbles.
Newt sighs, frowning at the city. "You know that she'll be there, too?"
Thomas doesn't say anything in response.
Biting my lip, I lean back against the side of the truck, staring at the tall towers.
Teresa. I had forgotten about her. Well, I tried to, at least.
Newt turns back towards the truck, limping to me. "Come on, let's get going..." He whispers, gesturing for me to turn around before gently grasping my waist and hoisting me into the back of the truck.
• • •
"Wear my gloves, hermana. The last thing you're going to want is to be seen as an Infected." Jorge says, passing back his gloves to me as we walk through the roads and buildings that are outside of the blocked city.
Puzzled, I take Jorge's gloves and slide them onto my hands, wincing as I put on the left glove. "Why not?" I ask, examining the wandering people surrounding us. "I mean, these people already look ill?" I mumble as low as possible.
"Because the Cranks here will be quick to take you into their group."
Newt frowns, confused. "Their group?"
"From what I've heard in passing conversation, WICKED is not letting them into the city because they're infected. They're determined to break in, trying to build up a revolt, at least, so I've heard. They'll take any Crank they can find-"
"She's not a Crank." Newt snaps defensively.
Jorge looks over his shoulder at Newt, lifting a brow. "But for how long, hermano?"
Clenching his jaw, Newt protectively rests his hand on the small of my back, growing silent.
As we get closer and closer to the city walls, the streets begin to get busier and busier, and the crowds of people shove pass us, nearly splitting our group up.
"I don't know about you, but I've got a bloody bad feeling about this." Newt says.
"We just need to stay together." Thomas responds over the loud surroundings.
"We are here to raise our ignored voices!" A booming voice exclaims, causing all of us to look back at the source. The crowd begins to part to the sides of the road, letting a caravan of cars pass through, a man sitting on the front side of the roof shouts into a megaphone. "WICKED claims to be helping us, yet they sit high and mighty in the comforts of their precious city behind those walls, letting us rot away!"
As the first car of the line drives past us, an armed, masked man stares us down from the back end of the roof of the vehicle, giving me a really uneasy feeling. Newt moves his hand to mine, obviously discomforted by the armed man, too. "Stay close..." He whispers.
I nod, gulping as I watch the remainder of the cars pass.
"They think they've gotten us beat, but we are larger in numbers, meaning we have more power, more strength! I say we rebel, and we take down that wall, and we take our share of what we deserve!" The man with the megaphone exclaims in the distance.
Once the last vehicle passes, the crowds rejoin together, and the commotion continues where it had left off.
Thomas draws his brows together, staring at the caravan in the distance before looking back at the rest of us. "Let's keep going."
Jorge nods, and we return to squeezing past the ocean of Infected.
We make our way down road after road, stepping out from the crumbling buildings until we approach a tall wall, though nowhere near as tall as the ones surrounding the city, with several short tunnels lining the bottom, the crowds pouring into them.
"I think this is the way towards the outer part of the city!" Thomas calls back at us, rushing into one of the tunnels.
"Come on." Newt says, pulling me behind as we rush after Thomas into the small, vandalized corridors.
As Thomas stumbles out the other end, returning to the bright light of day, his face falls. "That's it! That's our way in!" He calls.
I follow Newt out into the open, the crowds growing near violence. I look down the road, only to see countless people huddled together as they near the blocked-off end of the road. An empty stretch of dirt lies between the end of our path and the outer walls of the Last City, two long stretches of train tracks line the sides and lead to the massive, closed cement doors ahead.
And I thought the Maze walls were gigantic.
"Let's go!" Thomas calls, rushing into the crowd.
"Wait, hermano!" Jorge exclaims, rushing after.
Brenda, tossing her hood over her head, follows behind with Frypan.
"What are we getting ourselves into?" Fry shouts over the chaos, struggling to keep up.
Pulling me behind by my good hand, Newt attempts to casually stride through the crowd. "I really don't think we should be drawing attention to ourselves." He mutters. "Lay low."
I nod. "Good that." I mumble, looking around suspiciously.
The others beginning to disappear in the crowd ahead, rushing towards the end of the road.
Squeezing Newt's hand tightly, I do my best to push past the surrounding ill, who are shouting and shoving and waving signs in the air. "LET US IN! LET US IN!" They chant.
As we walk as calmly as possibly, I can feel Newt tensing up, causing me to avert my eyes to him in concern. "Newt?"
Scowling suspiciously, Newt looks off to the right, scanning the ocean of faces. He turns his head to glance to the left, looking past me and examining the countless people surrounding us. He turns to stare ahead, clenching his jaw.
I flicker my eyes among the faces, trying to find what's worrying Newt.
I feel him pull me closer, now shoulder-to-shoulder with me as we walk.
"Newt, what's going on?"
He doesn't look to me, but he mumbles in a very low voice, "We're being followed..."
My face falls. "Wh-What?"
He looks at the people past me to the left. "Look..." He whispers.
I look back over my left shoulder, scanning the crowd until my eyes lock onto a masked figure, dressed in dark clothes.
Quickly turning to look straight ahead, I tense up anxiously. "The men from the caravan of vehicles..."
Newt nods. "Do not let go of me. No matter what."
I nod rapidly, biting my lip as I look past him to the right, spotting another masked figure who shoves past others, quickly making their way towards us. "We need to get to Thomas and the others before they do."
Limping faster, Newt pulls me alongside him through the crowd, holding tighter to my right hand as enraged, shouting individuals aggressively push and shove, trying to weasel their way to the front.
Looking back over my shoulder, I catch a glimpse of the same man who was staring at us when the cars drove by, and my eyes widen as I force myself to face the direction we're heading. "We need to hurry..."
Newt begins to get aggressive, pushing people out of the way with his free hand. "Bloody move!" He snaps, getting us to the others in time. "Guys!" He calls, slapping a hand onto Thomas's back as soon as we get to the front. "We need to get out of here right now!" He shouts. "Look!" He turns back, causing the others to do so, too.
Jorge's face drops, eyes darting from one masked man to the next as they try to squeeze their way towards us, and he slowly takes his pistol out of his coat.
Before Thomas can verbally respond, a loud alarm begins to blare from the Last City walls in the distance, causing the entire crowd to freeze in place, falling silent.
I furrow my brows, staring at the city doors ahead. "What's going on?" I ask, growing anxious.
"Something's definitely wrong." Newt says, exchanging a worried look with Thomas.
Suddenly, strange contraptions rise from the top of the towering walls, a red light signifying life as they angle their faces towards the crowd.
My eyes widen as panicked screams begin to rise in the crowds. "Those are not what I think they are, right?!" I shout.
In perfect timing, the first missiles are shot, sending explosions of dirt into the air.
"GO, GO, GO!" Thomas screams as we all turn on our heels, sprinting in the opposite direction.
Newt, pushing me ahead, shouts, "RUN, (Y/N)! AND DON'T LOOK BACK!"
As if I'm back in the Maze with the Grievers, I bolt through the panicked crowd as fast as I can, the ground shaking from the explosions behind, though they are getting closer and closer by the second.
The dirt beneath me quakes as an explosion blows up the ground a few yards to my left, nearly throwing me to the floor and sending figures flying in the air, screaming out in agony.
Running aimlessly in fear, the Infected shove me side to side as they make their way past.
Shielding my head as another explosion bursts to my right, I force myself to pick up speed, although it begins to get unbearably more challenging to breathe as the dusts fills my lungs with every quick, frantic inhale.
Another missile sends a cloud of dust in the air, but only a few feet away from me this time, throwing me with incredible force into the air and onto the dirt ground.
Crying out, I skid across the dirt, the rocks and pebbles scratching at my skin. Disoriented by all of the chaotic sounds and visuals, my eyes have to adjust as I slowly sit up, ears ringing from, both, the stress and the bombs. Looking back, my eyes widen as a group of people charge towards me, definitely willing to trample me if it means they survive the explosions; however, before they can stampede over me as I struggle to get to my wobbly feet, Newt yanks me upright by the arm. "I'VE GOT YOU!" He shouts.
"THIS WAY!" Fry exclaims, sliding to a stop, nearly tripping as he suddenly dashes left, Newt and I running after him back through the crumbling, tagged up passageways and on through to the other side, safe from the city's weaponry.
Panting heavily as I struggle to get enough oxygen, I look over my shoulder at Jorge, Brenda, and Thomas as they run after us, dust flying into the passage behind them from yet another missile.
Just as I turn forward again, I witness a man with a black vest and oxygen mask suddenly latch onto Newt, grabbing him by the collar of his coat.
"NEWT!" I scream, charging at the masked man, but another grasps onto me from behind, lifting me off of the ground. "LET ME GO!" I lash out aggressively, screaming and kicking and clawing. "NEWT!"
"(Y/N)!" Newt shouts as he's shoved into the back of a van.
I fight as much as I can while the others are getting taken by the masked group.
"NO, BRENDA!" Jorge screams as he and Frypan are forced into the van that Newt's in.
The man carrying me roughly throws me into the back of a different van, hopping inside and grasping me again to hold me still while Thomas and Brenda are shoved into the same vehicle as me against their will.
Although the doors get slammed shut within the second Thomas and Brenda are shoved inside, and the driver starts the van, I continue to lash and shout. "LET ME GO, YOU SHUCKING SLINTHEADED KLUNK-FOR-BRAINS!" I snap as the man that was carrying me finally lets go. Without a moment of hesitation, I turn around and punch the masked man in the face, given that his specific oxygen mask exposes his eyes, causing the other guards to quickly latch onto me from behind. "SHUCK YOU, YOU SHUCKING SHANK! WHERE ARE YOU TAKING US?! WHERE ARE OUR OTHER FRIENDS!" I snap as the man holds his already swelling eye, and the other men force me down to take a seat on the floor of the van. One of the men pulls back their fist to punch me as I fight back, but Thomas quickly dives in front of me, nearly falling over as the vehicle jolts as it rushes down the road.
"WOAH, WOAH, WOAH! SHE'LL STOP, MAN! SHE'LL STOP!" Thomas exclaims, shielding me.
I scoff. "Yeah, right!" I snap, hacking up saliva and spitting in the face of the man who was going to punch me.
He pulls down his black bandanna from his face when he wipes off my saliva, snarling. "Why, you-" He growls, pulling his fist back again.
"SHE'LL STOP! SHE'LL STOP!" Thomas exclaims frantically, flailing his arms and looking back at me. "Won't you, (y/n)?" He asks, but it's obvious by his tone that he's ordering me to.
I scowl at the man, glaring at him as if to say, I shucking dare you to punch me. I dare you.
Thomas, sighing heavily, looks back at the man. "She'll stop. She'll stop..."
Giving Thomas the death glare, he hisses through clenched teeth, "Keep your friend in line. She's expendable since he doesn't recognize her."
The man who's mask completely covers his face, the one that was staring at us as the vehicles drove passed earlier, grasps the other man's arm, shaking his head.
"He?" Thomas asks in confusion, worried though suspicious. "Who's he?"
The man who was going to hit me scowls, simply rolling his eyes in response as he plops back against the net that divides the back end of the van from the front seats.
I sit against the back doors beside Thomas; Brenda, who's on the other side of him, looks to me in sync, concerned.
• • •
Twenty minutes drag on, and then the van eventually slows to a stop. The man in the passenger seat up front climbs out of the van, along with the driver, and, within seconds, the back doors open.
Turning to look behind me, I distort my face as I examine the inside of a strange concrete facility, the light shining through from the collapsed portions of the ceiling in the center of the room, a few stories above. It seems to be some kind of abandoned parking garage. Hesitant, I climb out of the van after Thomas and Brenda, looking around at the various people walking about, obviously doing their own thing, and the armed men climb out from the back of the van or jump down from the roof.
A second van pulls up beside the one we had just exited. Before the men from the front can climb out and open the back door, the back is forced open as one of the masked individuals topples out.
"WHERE IS SHE?!" A familiar voice shouts, causing me to jump. Jorge.
As if on perfect cue, Jorge hops out of the car, standing over the man he had pushed out. "I SAID WHERE IS SHE?!" He snaps, grasping the man by the collar of his vest and punching him in the face where his skin is exposed beneath the mask.
"Jorge, I'm here!" Brenda exclaims, rushing to the man.
"Wait, Jorge!" I shout, about to run to the man, too, but the armed individuals around us start shouting and pointing their guns at us.
One of the men shove me away from the fight, lifting the end of his gun to my head.
Eyes widening as I raise my hands to the air and back away quickly, I exclaim anxiously, "Alright, alright!"
"Woah, woah, woah!" The familiar, accented voice exclaims, Newt jumping out of the second car with raised hands in surrender, rushing over to me and standing in front of the man's gun. "Alright, she's not doing a bloody thing; just put the gun down!"
Fry climbs out of the back after, gaping at Jorge before quickly jumping back as a guard holds a gun to him.
Jorge, blinded by rage, screams in the face of the man he's got pinned down, pulling back his fist again, but Brenda grasps his arm quickly, stopping him. "I'm right here!" She shouts over his screaming. "I'm right here..."
He looks to the girl, face falling in relief as he shoves off of the, now bloodied, masked kidnapper.
"Relax, everyone." The full-faced masked man says sternly, adjusting his pack and holding his gun securely. "We're on the same side as you."
"Same side as us?" Thomas asks in a harsh tone, stepping forward, shoving off a guard. "And what side exactly do you think that is? Who are you people?"
The man stares at us, the other guards slowly shifting their stares from Thomas towards, who seems to be, the leader of this mission.
I stare at the man suspiciously before averting my eyes to Newt, who still stands defensively in front of me, creasing his brows together in an uneasy manner.
The man, sighing heavily, grasps onto his face mask, peeling it off and looking to us.
Why, he's no man. He's a boy our age.
I can hear the breath hitch in Newt's throat.
"Hey, Greenie." The boy says.
Distorting my face in confusion, I quickly look to Newt with worried eyes. "'Greenie'? But that's one of your words?"
"One of our words." The boy corrects.
The three boys stare at this unmasked kid in complete shock, seemingly speechless.
Thomas, nearly inaudible, asks in a low, disbelieving voice, "Gally?"
Gally? Why does that sound familiar?
Gasping as it clicks, I turn to Newt with wide eyes. "Oh, that's the guy you were talking about in the car! The guy with the eyebr-"
Newt suddenly clasps his hand over my mouth, giving me a panicked look and shaking his head rapidly.
The rest of my sentence muffled into Newt's hand, I avert my eyes back to Gally, who frowns slightly.
"But...how?" Frypan mumbles, staring at the boy in disbelief.
Gally, sighing heavily, his shoulders sinking as he exhales, shifts his eyes to Frypan.
Before he can open his mouth to speak, Thomas suddenly charges at Gally, punching him in the face and tackling the boy to the concrete ground.
Immediately, the surrounding armed men aim their guns at Thomas.
Newt sprints to the brunette in a panic. "Tommy, no! Stop!" He exclaims.
Pinning Gally down, Thomas pulls back his fist to punch the boy in the face again, but Newt quickly slides to his knees beside Thomas, clasping his hand tightly onto the enraged boy's raised arm. "Wait! Tommy, don't! Calm down, alright! Just calm down!"
I can see Thomas's fist trembling with rage, Newt using all of his strength to hold back Thomas's fist.
"He killed Chuck." Thomas growls through clenched teeth.
Chuck?
"I know, I know; I remember. I was there, too." Newt pants. "But I also remember that he was stung and completely out of his mind." He reminds Thomas urgently, eyes darting at the men around us, guns aimed at the three of them. Shifting his eyes back to Thomas, he whispers, "Calm down... Alright?"
Hesitating for a moment, Thomas suddenly shoves off of Gally, getting to his feet.
Newt steps back, gently resting a hand on Thomas's shoulder.
Grunting as he stands back up, Gally rubs his jaw. "Alright, I deserved that." He mutters, shrugging slightly. "Does anyone else want to have a go? Frypan? Newt?"
Jorge asks the question that he and Brenda are obviously both thinking of. "You know this guy?"
Fry, still staring at Gally, dumbfounded, nods slightly. "I guess you could say he was an old friend of ours..."
Gally's eyes flicker downward slightly, frowning.
Newt, breathing heavily as he attempts to gather his thoughts, shakes his head. "But- But how?" He asks. "How is this possible? We watched you die!"
Gally, shifting his eyes to Newt, shakes his head. "No, you left me to die."
A single sentence has never pierced my heart with such stinging as those six simple words just have.
I fidget awkwardly, it feeling harder to breathe from the heavy tension between the boys. I gently grasp Newt's arm in attempt to steady him.
"Listen, if we hadn't have taken you and your friends, you would all be dead right now." Gally explains.
Although Thomas continues to scowl at the boy who had supposedly died, the rest of us exchanged uneased glances, well-aware that Gally is right.
"So what exactly are you doing here?" He asks.
Newt, licking his lips as he steadies his breathing, stands a little taller. "Minho..." He says, voice cracking with a deep ache. "We're trying to get into the city. We were attacked by WICKED six months back, and they took him. We believe they have him past those bloody walls, so we're here to get him out."
Nodding understandingly, Gally lifts a brow. "I can help with that."
I exchange a confused glance with Newt before looking back at Gally.
"Come with me." He says, turning on his heels.
"We're not going anywhere with you." Thomas growls, feet planted in the spot he's standing on.
Pausing in his tracks, their old friend looks back at us. "That's fine with me," he says flatly, "but if you really want to get into the city and save Minho, you need me."
I slowly avert my eyes to Thomas as he presses his lips tightly together, internally conflicted by the fact that this boy is probably right. Again.

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