We set off early the next day. No one wants to talk any more about what happened.
I bandage up my ankle. It is still swollen, but it's an angry red... not grey, or black. I breathe a long sigh of relief. I guess... maybe I am immune. But I still don't feel entirely relieved by that thought, after watching how the Cranks brutally attacked Winston.
The day goes slowly, each hour dragging on slower than the last. Our final supplies of water run out half way through the day. Shuck, I hope we find the Right Arm soon.
We sleep under the stars again that night, but it's cloudy this time, casting a dark shadow across the sandy ground. The air is dense and humid; a warm breeze blows my hair into my face as I try to get to sleep, and I can hear the distant rumble of thunder in the distance. I finally drift into a deep sleep, listening to the howl of the wind in my ears.
***
It's a dream. It's just a dream, I keep telling myself sub-consciously. But that doesn't make it any less real. I'm at WICKED's headquarters. I'm fourteen. My hair is cropped shorter and my mannerisms seem awkward, like I don't quite fit into my body, like I'm unsure of how to act.
I'm facing a woman. She's blonde and wears a white pantsuit, and I recognise her immediately. Ava Paige. She's talking to me, but her voice sounds monotonous, like she's said the same thing over and over, day after day. I'm not paying attention; I just focus on the floor, eyes glued to a small bug crawling on the ground.
Ava notices I'm distracted. "(y/n)? You need to focus on me. This is important," she says with authority. "You and Thomas need to listen to us. Rachel and Aris are doing well, they've completed their course. Doesn't that just show you, what you can do if you try? You want the Cure, don't you?"
My heads snaps up. "Yes," I reply, exasperatedly. "Yes, I want it! It's just... it's hard..."
"I know it is. But you'll do it, for the greater good."
"The greater good..." I repeat obediently, though my tone is slightly questioning.
A young brunette walks into the room, escorted by an older man who's once brown hair is greying around the scalp. He smirks as he sits the boy down beside me.
"Hey, Thomas," I say to the boy, squeezing his hand. He squeezes back, eyes shifting to the floor. Something's not right.
"What?" I whisper to him, Ava and Janson deep in conversation. Thomas' hands shake slightly.
"They've... they've done something..." he replies vaguely.
"Who's done what?" I hiss, irritation laced into my tone.
"Janson, and the others... they said they wouldn't, promised they wouldn't, and I tried to stop them..."
"What, Thomas?" I ask, voice raising.
"They sent Newt out into the Maze. I'm sorry, (y/n), I know they said they weren't going to send him off just yet, but they lied."
My face falls dejectedly. "He's there?"
"Yeah."
"But... they promised."
"I know..." he mutters bitterly.
They lied. Again. How many more lies are they going to tell? How many lies have they told that have gone unnoticed?
"The greater good..." I scoff, small, angry tears forming in my eyes. "Yeah, right."
YOU ARE READING
In my Blood
Fanfiction(Newt & Reader story) Alone and confused, you wake up in the middle of a Maze, with no idea of what you're doing there - and with no memory of who you are. Thrust into a new world of chaos, dictatorship and bloodthirsty monsters that lurk in the Maz...
