The Other Side - A Newt Fanfiction

Chapter Twenty Eight: Like Sand in an Hourglass

Panting, Thomas stutters, "(y/n)?"
Giggling with a nod, I ask, "You don't think we're stupid enough to believe you wouldn't get yourselves into trouble, do you?" I toss my helmet to the ground and stride to him, wrapping him up in a big hug, his sopping wet uniform clinging against his body and getting mine wet. "Besides, with a complex plan like this, I'm pretty sure you need a girl's brain running the show." Grinning as I pull away, I turn to Minho, basically charging at him. "Hey, shuck-face!" I exclaim, latching onto him tightly.
Nearly stumbling back, Minho's terrified expression morphs to a mix of shock and relief, and he manages to chuckle weakly as he catches his breath, shivering and hugging me in return. "Heya, shank." He smiles, pulling away to ruffle up my hair. "I see you're talking like a real Glader."
Laughing as I shove his hand away from my head, I reply, "Six months does change a person." I wink before turning to look at Newt, who's pushing his soaked hair out of his eyes and gaping at me slightly.
The veins on his left jaw have branched out more to his cheek, and they've gotten darker, but that doesn't stop my heart from lurching out of my chest in pure relief to see that he's alive.
I can't help but stare at him while he does the same, heart fluttering.
"(y/n)..." He whispers, almost breathlessly.
Without a moment more of hesitation, I stride to him, pulling him into a hug as he leans down to shakily return the embrace, burying his face in the crook of my neck as he wraps his arms tightly around my waist. Wrapping my arms underneath his and to his upper back, I squeeze him tightly.
"Bloody Glade," Newt mumbles softly in my shoulder, "it's good to see that you're alright."
"I can say the same for you." I whisper, inhaling and exhaling gently in relief. "That was seriously awesome." I mumble as I pull away to look at the three of them. "Like, holy klunk. Jumping out of a window?!"
"I don't think 'awesome' is how I would describe it." Gally mutters, tearing off his helmet as he darts his eyes from the broken window high up on the building to the boys. "'Nuts' is more like it." He concludes, tossing his helmet to the pool, now that we have no use for them anymore. "You guys are nuts."
The upmost horror that flashes in Minho's expression is definitely one of the most amusing things I have ever seen, and I clasp my good- well, less pained- hand over my mouth, snickering.
"G-Gally...?" He gapes, eyes wide. "But- How did- You-"
"Long story." The boy who 'died' says simply, shrugging and turning on his heels, marching along the edge of the pool. "Let's go."
Our rescued friend continues to stare at Gally with his jaw to the floor.
Thomas, chuckling softly at Minho whilst he catches his breath, pats his back. "We'll explain on our ride out of here." He says as the two of them follow behind.
Looking to Newt, I take his hand with my left, smiling weakly.
Seeming out of breath, he forces a weak smile, definitely not feeling well.
Although my heart sinks, I force myself to keep my smile. "Come on. Brenda's at the underground level." I explain, pulling him behind as we follow the others.
As Gally leads us around the western fountain and to the northern side of the building, the sirens in the distance continue to ring in the air, and I can hear faint shouting. I lock my eyes onto Newt, pursing my lips tightly together in concern. "How are you feeling?" I ask.
Breathing somewhat heavily through his nose, his face flushed and the whites of his eyes much more red, he coughs softly. "I'm alright..."
Frowning, I ask, "Are you sure?"
He nods, squeezing my hand reassuringly as he limps alongside me. "Positive. Besides, we'll be able to get some of that Bliss in me, and I'll be much better off."
Smiling slightly, I nod. "Good that."
"Alright," Gally says, stopping just beside the corner that turns to the eastern side of the tower and looking back at us. "I'm sure guards are going to be swarming down here, so be prepared."
"Got it." Thomas mumbles, taking a deep, nervous breath.
Readying his Launcher, Gally says, "Let's go." He turns the corner, sprinting along the outer eastern wall to the underground entrance.
I rush after, pulling Newt as he hobbles behind, wheezing softly.
However, as we run to the garage-like entrance and into the basement level, no guards come running. In fact, there are no guards at all, and the vans that were down here only fifteen minutes ago are gone. Every single one of them.
Furrowing my brows together, I look to the glass wall to our right, only to see that the other half of the facility on the opposite side of the transparent wall is empty, too. "What the shuck?" I whisper. "Where did everyone go?"
Gally, brows drawn together in suspicion, shrugs. "I don't know." He mumbles. "But don't let your guard down." With that, he slowly lifts his weapon and walks ahead of us, down the main path of concrete where the vehicles drive along.
Glancing at Newt, I can visibly see that he is shaking, and he begins coughing again, nearly stumbling over.
Flushed with panic, I let go of his hand and take off my Launcher, tossing it to the concrete so that it is not burdensome and in the way of providing aid to Newt. As long as Gally has his, we'll be alright. I wrap my left arm around Newt's waist, forcing him to use me for support.
Panting softly through parted lips, Newt slightly leans against me, blinking a little slower in growing exhaustion.
The fact that he doesn't fight my support proves that his state is definitely bad.
I reach over with my right hand, grimacing from the cuts in it and the microscopic glass bits that I didn't get out, and I pull his right arm over my shoulders, having him lean against me just enough to help him walk.
"What happened with your hand?" Newt asks softly, looking at me with concern.
I shake my head. "It's nothing to worry about."
As we make our way through the area, turning to walk around the three foot concrete divider, I peer down the long stretch of cement ahead of us, squinting my eyes before widening them. "Where's the bus?"
"What?" Thomas perks up in concern, looking at me. "What do you mean, 'Where's the bus?'"
"I mean the bus is gone, Thomas." I snap, all of my patience instantly vanishing with the stress rising inside me due to the sudden turn of events.
Gally looks back at the four of us, his face distorted in somewhat panic that he is forcing to keep down. "Brenda had the bus parked just down there," he explains, pointing down the path, "but they're gone."
"They can't be gone. They- They said they'd stay behind. Brenda- The kids-" My breath hitches in my throat as I whisper, "The Serum..."
I can see Newt turn his head to me in my peripherals, but I don't dare return the glance, not wanting to see the expression on his face.
"What the shuck do we do now?" Minho asks.
Gally, inhaling deeply as he purses his lips, shifts his eyes back in the direction we had entered from. "They must have had to result to Plan B."
I furrow my brows together. "What? What's Plan B?" I ask, speaking quickly. "I don't remember a Plan B!"
"It's the plan for if Brenda and the hostages get found out, so it wasn't necessary for you guys to know about it." He explains, striding past the four of us. "Fry's involved in that part. I gave you all separate maps for a reason."
"So what are we doing?" Thomas asks, swiftly following behind; Minho does the same.
It's crazy how this dire situation has gotten Thomas to actually cooperate with Gally.
"We're going back to the hideout outside of the city. We've got to get to the tunnels."
Supporting Newt as we do our best to turn around and keep up with the others, I mumble in worry, "The sewage route is all the way across town."
"Well, Brenda and Fry are probably getting their plan rolling as we speak, so we need to hurry." Gally calls back.
Frowning, I pull Newt closer to me in order to place more of his weight against me.
We make our way back out of the underground level, stepping out into the seemingly empty, quiet city, only the sound of the faint, distant sirens can be heard echoing.
"This way." Gally waves us in his direction as he turns on his heels and runs down the left end of the road.
Thomas, looking back at Newt and I, gives me a questioning glance.
I shake my head. "Keep going. I've got it." I say reassuringly.
Pursing his lips together, he nods slightly, rushing after Gally.
Minho stares at Newt in concern, frowning.
I can't imaging having known Newt for well over three years, be apart for six months, and then reunite just to watch him suffer.
"Minho," I whisper, "keep going. We'll keep up."
He shifts his eyes to me before eyeing Newt, once again. He nods hesitantly, turning on his heels and jogging ahead.
"I've got it." Newt finally speaks up, pushing off of me and standing upright, though he stumbles a little.
I quickly grasp his right arm in case he collapses. "Newt, you're not getting any better."
"I can push through." He says, staring me in the eyes. The veins in his cheeks are more predominant, beginning to bulge a little in his face. His wet hair falls into his eyes in strands, and the circles around his eyes are almost black. I open my mouth to protest, but he cuts me off by adding, "Trust me."
Those two simple words cause me to immediately clamp my mouth shut, my throat beginning to burn as I feel the urge to cry. "You know I do..." I choke out.
Panting softly, his chest rising and falling more distinctively, a shadow of a smile tugs on the right corner of his lips. "Come on." He says, running in a hobbled manner after the others.
Biting my lip to keep from arguing, I run after Newt, staying as closely behind him as possible, ready to catch him if he falls.
As we make our way down the first few blocks, my eyes catch a faint glimmer of a bright red flare in the distance as it flies in the dark, starless sky from somewhere far across down, suddenly bursting and illuminating an even brighter shade of red.
"That's Plan B in action." Gally calls back from the front.
Furrowing my brows together, I look ahead at the others as they worriedly glance up at the flare, it's bright fire trailing a line of smoke behind it as it soars upward.
I can only imagine what Plan B consists of.
Gally leads us down a couple more blocks, stopping us at an open courtyard-like area where there are raised blocks of concrete that hold trees, providing a little spec of nature in such a technological city. Vertically standing, cement rods of light line the outer perimeter of the courtyard, illuminating the area with coolly-tinted lights.
Sliding across the slick, marble flooring of the courtyard on his knees, Gally hides behind a block to the right, Thomas sliding beside him.
Minho and Newt rush to the concrete block to the left, both sliding across the ground and slamming into the cement with a grunt.
Examining Newt's condition as he turns to lean his back against the block, coughing violently, I rush to the spot where Thomas and Gally are hiding, sliding to a stop in between the two of them. "How much farther are the tunnels?" I ask, urgency rising in my voice.
"Eleven, maybe twelve, blocks." Gally pants, leaning back against the concrete and glancing over his shoulder to look at the route ahead of us through the planted trees.
I gape at Gally. "Twelve shucking blocks?!" I hiss. "He can't go twelve more shucking blocks!"
My comment causes the two boys to look where Newt and Minho hide, and I avert my eyes to them, too, watching Newt whispering something to Minho as he unbuttons his jacket, head tiredly swaying. He manages to place his left hand on Minho's shoulder, smiling weakly. "It's good to see you though..."
Minho clasps his right hand on Newt's arm, returning the small smile with a subtle nod.
Turning to look at us, Minho's smile fades. However, he forces the smile to return as he shifts his attention to Newt again, whispering one more thing to the ill boy before giving him a comforting pat on the shoulder and crawling in our direction. "Hey," he whispers, glancing back at Newt once more before looking at us, "how long has he been like this?" He asks as soon as he is out of earshot from Newt.
"He wasn't visibly ill until today." Thomas explains.
"Last night..." I correct in a weak voice, eyes locked on Newt as he rests against the separate concrete block, his chest heaving with heavy breaths as he tiredly tilts his head back, swallowing in discomfort, his Adam's apple rising and falling.
Thomas gives me a confused look.
Shifting my eyes to the brunette, I explain, "He told me that he saw some of his veins getting dark yesterday."
Pursing his lips together, Thomas nods understandingly.
"When did he get bit?" Minho asks.
"He didn't..." I mutter, shifting my eyes back to Newt. "It's airborne now."
The other three boys exchanged worried glances.
Without another word, I crawl to Newt's aid, a deep ache beginning to spread through my chest, the source being my heart.
The ill boy tiredly averts his eyes to me, wheezing softly. "How much farther did Gally say we've got?"
Sitting on my knees in front of him, I whisper, "About twelve blocks." I gently brush his soaked hair out of his eyes. "Do you think you'll be able to handle that?"
He nods weakly, closing his eyes in exhaustion. "Yeah... Yeah, I can handle that..." he whispers in return.
I rest my left hand on his sweaty, veiny cheek, brushing my thumb against his pale skin gently as I nod slowly. "We'll get you the Bliss, and everything will be okay..." I choke out reassuringly.
He raises his trembling right hand, resting it over my left as he does his best to catch his breath, leaning his head against the palm of my hand, eyes still closed.
I bite my lip as I feel it begin to quiver from the urge to cry.
Thomas, standing up and peeling off his jacket, tosses it to Minho and walks to Newt and I, crouching down in front of him. "Alright, Newt, we've got to get going. Okay?" He whispers shakily.
Newt, letting go of my hand as I pull it away, nods with the little strength he has, taking a deep, stuttered breath.
Thomas takes Newt's left arm, pulling it over his shoulders as the brunette drapes his right arm around Newt's waist, helping the boy to his feet.
As soon as Newt is upright, he suddenly stumbles forward, nearly toppling to the ground, but Thomas manages to keep a firm hold on him.
My stomach leaps to my throat in a panic. "Newt-"
"Woah, woah, woah!" Thomas says quickly as he pulls the ill boy upright. "You alright?"
Coughing weakly, Newt nods. "I'm fine, Tommy..." he mumbles as he leans against Thomas for support, the two of them slowly walking down the main path of the courtyard.
After watching the two of them with worried eyes, I avert my attention to Gally and Minho, who are still crouched down behind the slab of concrete to the right, Gally watching Thomas and Newt while Minho stares at him. "I don't get it." He mutters, causing Gally to shift his glance to him. "I put a spear through your heart."
Gally, sitting a little taller, takes a deep breath. "Well," he says, patting Minho's shoulder, "nobody's perfect." With that, he gets to his feet and strides after the ill boy and his friend.
Distorting my face in confusion as I rise to my feet, I look to Minho. "Wait, you plunged a spear completely through his heart?" I ask, walking towards him.
"Yeah!" He exclaims in disbelieving frustration as he stands and we follow the others. "I chucked it as him, and it went clean into his shucking chest!"
I avert my eyes to Gally. "Okay, I assumed that, when Fry said you speared Gally, he meant in the stomach or shoulder or something of that sort, but now I understand why everyone was so shocked..." I mutter, jaw dropping.
I wonder if the girls that were stung could have survived a spear to the heart if I had tried to fight for them? What if Annie could have been 'patched up' like Gally? Then that means WICKED allowed every one of those girls to perish. I clench my jaw and ball my fists at the thought.
"Woah, Newt!" Thomas exclaims from ahead, and I dart my eyes to the two of them as Newt nearly topples to the ground again, Thomas struggling to hold him upright.
Minho immediately runs ahead, catching Newt from his right side and pulling his right arm over his shoulders, providing Newt support on his other side.
Gulping, I rush after them. "Are you alright?"
Newt, looking back over his shoulder to me, pants, "Yeah... Yeah, I'm alright..."
I nod slowly, frowning.
"We've got to keep going." Thomas whispers, and he and Minho guide Newt along the slick path ahead.
Following closely behind the three boys, I walk alongside Gally, taking in a long, stuttered breath.
"Don't worry." Gally whispers to me as we make our way down the sidewalk. "We'll get him the Bliss."
Pressing my lips together tightly, I look to the tall boy. "Thanks..."
He averts his eyes to me, nodding slightly.
As we make our way to the end of the block, Gally rushes ahead of the three boys, taking the lead. "This way." He calls over his shoulder, holding his Launcher tightly as he strides onto the road, glancing left and right as he jogs across the street and to the sidewalk on the opposite side.
I stay behind Thomas, Newt, and Minho, walking closely behind them and extending my left hand out towards Newt's back protectively as our group slowly, but surely, crosses to the other side of the road after Gally, and, once we return to the sidewalk, we follow the broad shouldered boy as he turns left and swiftly strides alongside the towering buildings to his right.
Gally leads us halfway down the block before turning right and marching into an alleyway. Breathing heavily, Minho and Thomas guide Newt into the narrow alley, and I walk behind.
We make our way down the long, tar stretch between the two massive buildings, and I cannot help but feel as if I'm walking down a corridor in the Maze.
Apparently, Minho's thinking the same thing. "Geez, this city's like the shucking Maze." He mumbles as he looks up at the buildings that tower over us.
Thomas manages to scoff slightly. "You can say that again..." He mutters.
"Alright, we've got a flight of stairs up ahead." Gally explains, looking back at us over his shoulder.
Thomas nods. "We can handle that." He says confidently as we step out into the open on the other end of the alleyway. He and Minho slow to a stop as they look at the flight ahead, a long, wide stretch of declining stairs before us. The stairs reach around the edge from one side of the block to the other, no way around them from here. The flight is illuminated by pale blue, horizontal lights that line the edge of one of every five steps.
Gally, stopping at the edge of the top step, looks back at the four of us. "It's the shortest route..." He mumbles.
Pressing his lips tightly together as he inhales deeply through his nose, Thomas shifts his brown eyes to Newt. "Will you be able to handle that?"
Newt, panting heavily in utter exhaustion, shifts his glance to Thomas, swallowing down the liquid that must be beginning to build up in his throat as he nods. "Yeah..."
Frowning slightly, Gally nods, turning and beginning to stride down the steps.
Thomas and Minho exchange a worried glance before the two of them help Newt make his way towards the flight, carefully stepping down onto the first step. I can see Newt already struggling to properly plant his feet on the stairs and contract the muscles in his legs to stand.
Gulping, I follow directly behind the boys.
As they make their way down the steps at a painfully slow pace, a faint, familiar voice calls from the left pocket of Thomas's pants, "Thomas, are you there?"
The brunette immediately perks up, turning his head slightly as he and Minho freeze in their tracks.
"Thomas, do you read me? It's Brenda."
I gasp, darting my eyes to Thomas as I quickly rush to his other side, listening intently.
Flushed with adrenaline from the outside connection, Thomas quickly calls, "Gally, wait! Give me minute."
The tall boy stops in his tracks, turning over his shoulder to look at us before walking back up the stairs in our direction.
Thomas and Minho help set Newt down on the stairs.
"Thomas, do you copy?"
As soon as Newt is seated, Thomas stands upright and swipes his walkie-talkie out from his pocket. "Yeah, Brenda, I'm here." He says quickly, gliding down the steps ahead of us.
Minho holds Newt upright with his left arm wrapped around the blonde boy's shoulders, and I crouch down beside Newt on his other side, gently rubbing his shoulder.
"Where are you guys?" Brenda asks.
"We've got Minho, and we're heading to the tunnels right now." He explains, looking back at Newt over his shoulder.
Newt's head sways tiredly as he breathes heavily through parted lips, struggling to remain upright, even with Minho's help.
"Hey, hey..." Minho whispers, rubbing Newt's arm closest to him reassuringly with his other hand. "It's gonna be okay. Just hang in there."
As Newt sways his head in Minho's direction to look at his friend, I can see the darkening veins becoming more predominant in his neck and cheek, pushing out of his skin in thick branches.
As Thomas turns away from us, I strain to make out what his says. "Brenda, Newt's not doing so good..."
"Don't worry about that, I've got the Serum." She responds. "But I think we've got another problem..."
"What?" Thomas asks. "What do you mean?"
"Lawrence is gone."
Those three simple words cause the breath to hitch in my throat, and, shifting my wide eyes to Gally, I watch the boy's face fall.
"What does she mean by 'he's gone'?" Gally asks.
"The whole place is cleared out; him, his crew, everything. All gone."
I rise to my feet, darting my eyes to the device in Thomas's hand before shifting them back to Gally. "But that doesn't make any sense." I say, stepping down the stairs towards the masculine boy. "Your friend said that they are only taking down the facility. Why would Lawrence need to take everything and everyone with him?"
Thomas gives me a puzzled, anxious look. "Taking down the facility?" He asks in disbelief. "What are you talking about?"
"We had an incident with one of Lawrence's guys who was roaming around the streets." Gally explains.
"Inside the city?" Minho speaks up, causing the rest of us to look back at himself and Newt as the blonde boy tiredly leans against his friend.
Gally, pressing his lips tightly together, nods. "Apparently, Lawrence sent out orders without my knowledge to take down WICKED tower, but I don't understand why he would need to evacuate their entire hideout outside the city in order to do that?"
"That's just weird..." Brenda mumbles suspiciously, causing all of us to avert our attention to the walkie-talkie. "Well, whatever is going on doesn't sound good. You guys need to get out of there, and fast."
Thomas, his breathing picking up, nods as he holds the device in front of his lips. "Okay, we'll be there. Just have the Serum ready..."
"Over." She replies.
Thomas looks back at the rest of us. "Alright, we've got to go." He says, rushing to Newt's free side and taking the ill boy's left arm over his shoulders. "Help me get him up." He orders to Minho as they pull the weak boy to his feet by his arms.
Without a moment of hesitation, Thomas, with Newt and Minho, takes the lead, carefully guiding his friend down the remainder of stairs.
Gally and I exchange a worried glance before following behind the others.
The five of us make our way down block after block, the sound of Newt's heavy breaths overpowering the distant sirens and the faint shouting that arises from far across the city.
"So," Minho begins, trying to start up a conversation to distract Newt from the virus eating at him, "what exactly have I missed over the passed six months?" He pauses before adding, "Aside from Gally rising from shucking the dead."
"Most of it was spent planning on rescuing you." Thomas says.
Newt nods as he mumbles weakly, "We couldn't leave...you behind..."
I gulp in worry over Newt's condition.
Minho, with his arm that's wrapped around Newt's waist, pats his ill friend's back. "You mean to tell me that you shanks did not find time to do anything other than plan a rescue mission?"
"Well," Thomas says, "we did manage to set up camp along the coast." He explains. "Started refurbishing a massive ship to take to the Safe Haven."
"That sounds shucking awesome." Minho smiles, rubbing Newt's back as he shifts his eyes to his blonde friend. "Was it awesome, man?"
Newt nods once, his head hanging tiredly. "Yeah..."
Minho, inhaling deeply through his nose, exchanges a concerned glance with Thomas before flickering his eyes back to Newt. "Did you do anything else?"
"Actually, I have a question." Gally chimes in, interrupting the topic at hand.
Looking back over his shoulder at Gally and I, Minho asks flatly, "What is it?"
"How long has," he pauses, gesturing to me, "this been going on?"
I furrow my brows. "What?"
"What the shuck are you going on about, shank?" Minho asks with a puzzled expression.
"I mean, this," Gally sighs, struggling to conjure up the right words as he quickly gestures back and forth between Newt and I as we walk along the concrete, "affection with the hugging and the kissing and...stuff." He mumbles, scrunching up his face as if it physically pains him to describe romantic affection.
I stare at the buff boy with a lifted brow. "'Hugging and kissing and stuff'?" I quote as I manage to laugh lightly in disbelief. "You're kidding, right?"
"Wait, what?" Minho exclaims, looking to Newt, who I now hear weakly giggling in a child-like manner. "You kissed (y/n)?! And this shank knew before me?!"
Just as I go to question why Minho is suddenly acting over-dramatic, it immediately clicks in my brain what he is doing. He found something that made Newt laugh, and now he's going to milk it as long as he can in attempt to keep the ill boy distracted and happy.
"And me?" Thomas adds in joking offense, joining in on the distraction.
"I didn't just know about it. I saw it." Gally says flatly, confused as to why it's such a big deal, not catching on to what Minho and Thomas are doing.
"What?!" Minho exclaims.
As Newt continues to snicker softly, I smile slightly, his quiet laugh the equivalent of music to my ears; I'm happy to hear that he is, at least, well enough to laugh, even though it's very weak.
I see grins stretching across Thomas and Minho's faces as they realize that Newt's spirits are getting lifted by their dramatic shock, and, struggling to not laugh, Minho continues his over-dramatic rant. "I worked my shucking butt off to get you two together, from our heart-to-hearts to purposely pairing you two shanks up for the search at that Crank party, and this is what I get?!" He gives Newt a dramatic, pained look. "How long ago?" He asks in a strained voice before repeating in a tone that would seem perfect for a soap opera, "How long ago did you kiss her?"
Pulling his right arm off of Minho's shoulders to clasp his hand over his face, muffling his tired giggles into his palm, Newt mumbles, "Ehh... Like...twenty minutes ago...?"
Minho drops his jaw to the floor. "Twe- Tw- Twent- Twenty minutes?!" He shrieks, causing Newt to continue in his little laughing fit, and Minho, chuckling as he momentarily breaks character, pulls the ill boy's right arm away from his pale face to drape it back over his own shoulders. "You couldn't control your hormones for twenty shucking minutes and let the matchmaker himself be apart of this major historical moment?!"
Snickering, Newt shakes his head, and, shaking my head, too, I can't help but smile as I watch the trio. There may not be a cure for the Flare, but Minho and Thomas sure know how to ease it with laughter.
"Wow, Newt. Just wow." Thomas teases. "Of all the people in the world, you let Gal-"
Suddenly, a loud, booming roar causes the earth to jolt beneath our feet.
The sudden movement throws me into Gally, but he manages to keep me upright, grasping my shoulders as he stumbles backwards slightly.
Minho and Thomas nearly stumble over, but they force themselves to stay balanced in order to keep Newt from toppling to the floor.
"What- What the shuck?!" I exclaim, looking to the left as I regain my balance, where the sound had came from, and spotting the front portion of the outer walls of the city far in the distance, but close enough to raise concern, engulfed in flames. "What's happening?" I ask, shooting Gally a panicked look.
Gally, his breathing picking up, stares at the fiery tower with his brows drawing together in concern. "They're supposed to take down WICKED, not the entire shucking city."
Darting my eyes to the other three boys as they look to Gally, I gulp. "Lawrence?"
He nods slowly, not allowing his eyes to leave the orange flames and smoke in the distance.
The others return their worried glances to the distant fiery chaos.
Thomas, however, reminds us of the matter at hand. "We need to keep going." He mutters, all bubbly sense of distraction evaporating completely from existence due to the explosion in the distance. He and Minho help Newt walk ahead down the road.
I don't hesitate to follow behind, though I keep my eyes on the aftermath of the explosion.
• • •
The faint sounds of sirens begin to get drowned out by the continuous roar of explosion after explosion as we make our way across the city, and, the worst part of it all, is that our path ahead is in the direction of the chaos.
"We're running towards the flames!" I call to Gally in concern.
"It's the only way!" He shouts over the sound of the bombs, the earth quaking beneath our feet as we run. "Don't worry, though! By the looks of it, we might be able to avoid the crossfire!"
Panting as I do my best to keep up, I nod, looking over to the Thomas and Minho as they basically carry Newt by his arms around their shoulders now, his feet struggling to keep up and plant properly on the ground with each step.
"How are you three holding up?" I call.
"We're alright!" Minho replies.
Although Minho and Thomas's hair have dried, Newt's remains soaked and shining with his own sweat.
"Only a few more blocks!" Gally shouts.
Chest heaving as I sprint as fast as I can to the front of the group, trying to lead the way, my eyes widen as a van screeches to a stop at the end of the block we are currently making our way down.
"Woah, woah, woah!" I shout, throwing my arms out as I stumble to a halt, watching a group of armed men hop out of the vehicle. I gasp. "Take cover! Take cover!" I shout, waving the others past.
Gally rushes ahead, leading us to a concrete block where a tree is planted on the edge of the sidewalk and crouching down beside it.
Thomas and Minho run to the hiding place, dragging Newt along, and, once they get to the hiding spot, they carefully turn Newt around and help him sink to the ground, having him lean back against the concrete slab before taking a seat on either side of him.
I quickly sink to my knees in front of Newt, grasping his arms as he tilts his head back against the block, wheezing heavily.
"Newt?" I whisper, eyes darting up and down his body, examining his current state. The veins in his face are dark purples and greens, bulging out of his skin like thick, webbed ropes beneath his flesh.
Swallowing hard, clearly beyond the point of bearable exhaustion, Newt licks dry his lips as he holds his wobbling head upright to look me in the eyes, struggling to conjure up a single word through wheezes.
"Hey, hey..." I whisper quickly, brushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes. "Don't strain yourself... Okay? Just- Just breathe." Looking him up and down, I open his jacket a little more to help cool him down, eyeing his filthy, sweat-soaked shirt that is no longer white. With trembling hands, I slide off my black gloves before fumbling for his hands and taking off his, tossing them to the concrete behind me.
"What are they doing?" Minho asks anxiously, peeking over the concrete. "What the shuck could they be waiting for?"
Gally, breathing heavily, locks his eyes on the van on the road, watching the men rushing about it. "I have no idea..."
Suddenly, an explosion bursts from the building across the street, the windows shattering and glass flying out onto the road as overwhelmingly hot flames stretch out of the broken windows and dance towards the night sky, sending gigantic clouds of smoke into the air.
As the ground quakes, I shield my head with my right arm while extending my left out and pressing my hand against the concrete beside Newt's head, leaning towards him to shield his body with mine.
Thomas, Gally, and Minho all frantically sink lower onto the concrete, shouting with a sudden start.
The sound of sirens begin to increase in volume, enough to be heard amidst the destruction, and I spot WICKED vans pulling up at the opposite end of the road, officers jumping out of it as soon as it parks in the middle of the street and shouting at one another, taking out their own guns.
As another explosion shakes the concrete beneath us, I quickly place my right hand on the concrete block to the other side of Newt's head, now completely leaning against him to block his weak body from any possible ricocheting bullets or debris.
A roar of countless gunshots burst in the air, both sides of the battle firing their guns ruthlessly.
"We've got to get out of the crossfire before someone gets hurt!" Thomas shouts. "We need actual shelter!"
Gally nods rapidly. "This way!" He waves us after him as he scrambles to his feet and runs towards the glass doors of the nearest building, swinging them open and running inside.
"Okay, Newt, we're gonna get you up now, okay?!" I call over the chaos as I scramble off of him. "Ready?"
Breathing heavily through parted lips, Newt nods slowly, clearly overwhelmed with nausea as he begins coughing horrifically, black blood beginning to splatter out of his mouth.
"Thomas, go hold the doors open!" I order. "Minho, help me get him up!"
Nodding rapidly, Minho quickly takes Newt's left arm over his shoulders as I take his right, and we pull him up to his feet while Thomas scrambles upright and stumbles to the doors, holding them open.
Grunting as I help drag Newt along the concrete, Minho and I rush through the doors with the ill boy. My ears ring from the overwhelming, continuous sounds of gunfire.
We stumble inside, what looks like, a retro diner with little circular tables and matching chairs. There's a counter lined with stools, the kitchen openly visible on the other side.
Panting heavily as we take in our surroundings, a ricocheting bullet flies through one of the windows, shattering it with a loud crash and causing Minho and I to immediately duck in response, pulling Newt down with us.
As soon as the dying boy is on his knees on the tile, he stares ahead with heavy wheezes, slowly slumping forward.
Flushed with panic, I quickly grasp Newt's shoulder and pull him upright. "Stay with us, alright? You have to stay with us!" I call over the blaring sounds of the war outside.
His head nods about as his eyes trail around tiredly, going crossed slightly as he struggles to remain conscious.
"No, no, no, Newt! Newt, you have to stay awake!" I exclaim, gently patting the right side of his face.
Squeezing his eyes shut before fluttering them open with rapid blinks, he shakes his head to regain control of himself. "S-Sorry..."
"It's alright, Newt; you've just got to-"
A powerful gust of flames from yet another explosion causes the windows of the diner to burst through, sending massive glass bits our way.
"GET DOWN!" I scream, suddenly shoving Newt onto his back and diving over him to shield him with my body, just as he had done with me when WICKED attacked the Right Arm's camp.
Minho protectively crouches in front of Newt and I, extending his arms out with his back towards the busted windows. He cries out, squeezing his eyes shut as he takes some of the glass bits that had flown at us.
Once the air calms, I slowly lift my head, trembling as I gape at the fire outside, the silhouettes of men with guns morphed by the strong waves of heat that rise from the dancing flames.
"Get up against the wall!" Gally orders, rushing towards the broken windows and leaning over a little table that's against the solid wall that divides the windows.
I quickly scramble off of Newt, shakily walking around him and scooping him up from under his arms, dragging him along the flooring to the nearest wall. Pulling him up to sit upright, I have him lie back against the wall with Minho's help, and Minho sinks to the ground to the left of Newt, patting his chest as he helps press him upright.
Newt, breathing heavily through his mouth with desperate gasps for air, which is not good with all of the smoke beginning to flow into the diner, heaves his chest, doing all that he can to fill his lungs.
I sit directly beside him to his right, facing him whilst sitting on my knees and grasping his right shoulder, rubbing it in a consoling manner as I watch him with worried eyes.
Tilting his hand back against the wall, Newt struggles for air like a fish out of water, coughing between forced, stuttered breaths and swallowing back the dark black liquid that begins to drip down his chin, closing his eyes.
There's no way he can go farther at this point. I'm literally watching the life drain from his body, like the last tiny grains of sand slowly gliding down the sleek, transparent surface of an hourglass, sliding through the narrow neck at the center and fluttering to the hill of sand below, indicating the closing of an hour.
"Brenda..." I hear Thomas's weak voice from behind, causing me to look over my shoulder at him as he sinks to the tile flooring, leaning his back against the counter and holding his walkie-talkie to his mouth. "Brenda, are you there?" He asks before releasing the button, the fuzzy noise of the airwaves following in response.
My throat and lungs begin to itch from the grey clouds of smoke, and I cough into the crook of my arm, wheezing as the heat from the flames makes the sweat bead on my forehead.
"Brenda, are you there...?" Thomas repeats weakly, panting as he licks his dry lips as his salty sweat rolls down his face.
More fuzzy noise follows.
Frowning as I feel the void of hopelessness swallow my heart whole, I avert my eyes to Newt, who's struggling to lift his heavy eyelids, staring at Thomas in exhausted anticipation.
"T...mas?!" I hear a familiar, faint, choppy voice call from the walkie-talkie. "Thom...is...at you?!"
Newt, perking up slightly, lifts his head off the wall for a moment in strained attempt to listen in.
I exchanged anxious glances with Minho and Gally before looking back at Thomas.
"Yeah..." Thomas says into the little device. "Yeah, it's me..."
A mere second passes before Brenda replies, "Seriously, where are...guys at? We'll co...get you!"
"Brenda, listen..." Thomas coughs, holding down the button again. "We're not gonna make it..."
Although my body is overwhelmed with the crashing waves of heat suffocating us, I feel a shiver run down my spine with Thomas's words.
We're not gonna make it.
"What...?" Brenda responds in disbelief.
"I said we're not gonna make it..." he coughs, clenching his jaw as he takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. "You and Fry need to get the kids as far away from the city as possible... Get back to the Right Arm..."
There's a stretch of time where only the fuzzy nose of the airwaves can be heard amidst the chaos from outside.
"No." She finally replies. "No, I'm not leaving you...ou hear me?"
"Brenda, listen..."
"No." She cuts Thomas off as soon as his finger lifts off of the button. "I'm not leaving you there... Alright? Fry and I are going to find a way to get you guys out of there."
The sound of the radio waves returns. Thomas, breathing heavily, shifts his eyes to the four of us, unsure of what to say.
"I'm not giving up on you..." Brenda adds in a somewhat choked voice.
Dropping his hand down to his side tiredly, Thomas doesn't respond to her.
Coughing into my arm as I inhale more smoke, I turn back to Newt, who's looking up at me with his big, brown eyes, lips parted as he desperately breathes through his mouth. His irises seem larger, lined with a thick, dark red– so dark that it's almost black– circle around each iris, the virus now clearly visible in every little aspect of his being.
Bottom lip quivering as tears swell up in my eyes, I brush back his soaked, matted hair and force myself to smile reassuringly. "Whatever happens, I won't leave your side... Everything's going to be okay..."
My stomach twists at my own words, sickened by the lie. There's no way this can end well. No matter how hard we try.
I lick my lips as a couple tears escape my eyes, rolling down my cheeks. At least, if I am to die, I will be leaving this world beside the person I cherish most.
"We'r comi...to you!" Brenda's voice suddenly exclaims from the walkie-talkie, causing Thomas to jolt and the rest of us to quickly snap our heads in his direction.
"Wh-What?" Thomas stutters in disbelief, lifting the device to his lips again.
"My ride's here!" She exclaims loud and clear, laughing.
Furrowing his brows together, Thomas gives us a puzzled look, breathing at a rapid pace.
"We'll meet you atop the tunnels nearby! There's a place we can land there!"
"Land...?" Gally mumbles, looking to Minho with his brows drawn together.
Thomas, staring at Newt, purses his lips tightly together. "Alright..." He finally responds to Brenda. "See you soon." With that, Thomas shuts off the device, putting it in his pocket. "We've gotta go." He says to the rest of us after coughing weakly, getting on his hands and knees and pushing himself to his feet. "We're only a matter of a few blocks away... We can do this."
Gulping, I say, "Newt can't carry himself."
"I've got it." Thomas says, waving to Minho. "Help me get him up."
Nodding as he pants heavily, Minho carefully takes Newt's left arm and pulls it over his shoulder as Thomas takes Newt's right, and, with a unified grunt, the two boys lift the frail, sick boy to his feet.
"Gally," Thomas pants, "you and (y/n) take the lead."
Standing taller, seeming to be the least phased by the smoke and heat, Gally nods. "Alright." He says, gripping his Launcher tightly. He nods towards the doors. "This way." He says, turning on his heels and running out the doors, holding one open for the rest of us.
Taking a deep breath, I glance at the trio before rushing out after Gally.
Once Minho, Thomas, and Newt stumble outside, Gally let's the door swing shut before sprinting in a crouched run along the sidewalk, aiming his Launcher at the battle beside us.
The four of us run after the leader, sprinting down the block, away from the battle, but further into the heart of burning buildings.
I can hear Newt coughing violently over the crackling of the flames and the crashing of towers and the gunshots from behind.
However, as we approach the corner of the following block, we have to come to a sudden halt again as a group of Lawrence's men come sprinting around the corner, shooting aimlessly and shouting in rage as they charge towards the battle behind, attracting some of the WICKED guards from down the street.
"Shuck, take cover again!" Gally orders, charging to a little outer deck area of the building at the end of the corner where the roof extends over the sidewalk, two poles supporting the outer corners of the roof from the edge of the sidewalk and, between the two metal rods, there's a strip of concrete that rises about two and feet off the ground, sitting two feet wide, and horizontal metal bars rise up another foot from the center of the block. If it weren't for the war around us, this would probably be a quaint little resting spot to sit and watch the life of the city pass by.
As we rush towards the area to take cover, Gally shouts, "Newt, we're almost there!"
I hear Newt shout between coughs, "Leave me! Just...leave me!"
Crouching down beside the concrete rectangular prism, I watch Thomas and Minho set Newt down beside me with wide eyes, blood dripping down Newt's chin.
"Newt, no, we're not leaving you." I say, rapidly shaking my head as I sit in front of him on my knees.
"Just l-leave me behi-!" He suddenly leans over to his right on his hands, coughing up black blood, the dark liquid dripping from his lips and splattering onto the concrete.
Distorting my face in horror, I watch Newt sit back against the block, chest heaving with every shallow breath as he tosses his head back onto the flat surface of the top of the cube, his mouth hanging open as his eyes wonder along the roof above us.
Thomas and Minho, crouching down on each side of me, exchange panicked expressions as Gally peers out onto the road, illuminated with an bright orange hue due to the surrounding fires.
In the midst of the ongoing rumble of battle, a louder, roaring sound of propellers thunders in the air, causing Gally, Thomas, Minho, and I to peer over the horizontal bars and look out into the night sky, watching a Berg flying overhead; Newt tilts his head back as far as possible, struggling to get a glimpse of the passing aircraft.
"We've got to keep going." Gally orders, looking to the four of us. "We don't have much time."
I press my lips tightly together as I choke back tears, throat burning from fighting the lump in my throat and the smoke and sparks trailing into my pharynx through my nostrils. "We can't." I reach my left arm out to Newt and brush my thumb along his right arrm, shaking my head as the stress causes me to slightly hyperventilate. "Newt can't go any farther. Not like this."
"Stop talking about me...like I'm not here..." The dying boy coughs out, his chin dripping with rotted blood, the dark liquid falling onto his filthy, sweat soaked shirt. The veins in his face visibly pulse with the black liquid. His blonde, knotted, sweaty hair that's tangled about falls into his darkening eyes as he trembles, and the dark red rings around the outer edge of his irises are getting thicker by the minute. He snarls through his teeth as he wheezes, using all of the strength he has to control himself and grasp onto my left arm with his right, squeezing my upper arm with his shaking, vein-covered hand. "Leave...me..." he orders.
My vision blurring with tears as I stare into Newt's Flare consumes eyes, I shake my head. "No... No, shucking way." I growl as I feel a sob breaking through. "We're not leaving you here!"
"You... You have to, (y/n)." He wheezes, clenching his jaw. "You said it yourself... I- I can't keep going, but... but you guys can..."
I squeeze my eyes shut as the tears run down my face. "No!" I snap. "I said no, Newt!"
Minho, frowning as he watches Newt and I, shifts his eyes to Thomas. "What do we do?" He whispers breathlessly.
"Leave me... you slinthead..." Newt struggles to get out, choking on his own blood.
Thomas, however, stares at Newt as he tries to think of another plan, the gears turning in his head.
Wiping my eyes with the sleeve of my jacket, I shift my attention to the brunette, anxiously waiting for an answer, breathing heavily.
Gasping slightly, Thomas quickly looks at Minho, extending his arm out to touch his right shoulder. "Minho, I need you to run ahead of us and get the Serum for Newt."