c h a p t e r . s e v e n t e e n

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When I came to, I immediately felt even dizzier than I had before. I was still in the same spot on the floor, my legs sticky with my own blood. Newt was holding me tight to his chest, and his shaky breaths told me he was quietly crying.

I glanced down to my side, to see the bleeding had largely stopped, and Newt had taken his hand away in favour of holding me. When he felt me move he reeled back a little in shock, loosening his grip. He let out a slight sob of relief, causing the Gladers around me to look and sport similar expressions.

I glanced around the room, confused. Thomas had managed to his feet, his hand in Teresa's, his body still trembling. The pool of blood at his feet, in which Chuck's body still lay, was a glaring reminder of his murder, and my chest felt restricted again as I tried to will away the oncoming tears. Nearby Gally's body also lay, breathing but still. As I stared at them, I was painfully reminded that I was in just the same state as Gally at this point, and Chuck's fate could soon be my own.

"All things must happen for a purpose," said the woman from WICKED, breaking the silence. I just seemed to remember she was here. She was staring at me, a look of almost curiosity on her face, as if she was waiting to watch me die. Every conscious Glader in the room shot her a look of pure hatred.

"What do we do now?" Frypan called out, daring to voice was everyone was thinking. What would we do now? This woman clearly wasn't about to help any of us. Where were we going to go? What did she still want from us?

My racing thoughts were cut off when suddenly we heard shouting and thundering footsteps from somewhere out of this room. The woman in front of us glanced behind her in the direction of the noise, looking concerned. Gladers started to huddle together a little more, fearful.

"Help me up," I croaked, trying to muster enough strength to move. I tried to will my legs to push my body off the floor, but I could barely keep myself awake, let alone stand. Newt was trying, but the poor boy had been dragging me through a Maze and through a battle with mechanical monsters - his strength was dwindling too.

The shouting was growing louder, until suddenly the door that the woman and Gally had come through saw a swarm of people - of adults - come storming in. Gladers stumbled back in fear, bumping into each other, while Frypan crouched down to help shield both Newt and me.

I saw the blood drain from the face of the woman from WICKED as the crowd flooded into the room. They were wielding guns and yelling. It was impossible to make out what they were saying, but I noticed none of them were wearing clothes with WICKED logos, instead grimy looking jeans and soaking-wet coats.

Two from the pack suddenly tackled the WICKED woman to the floor. They stood back as one of them cocked their gun, aimed-

"No way," I managed, shocked. They weren't going to-

CRACK. A deafening gunshot sounded, causing Gladers to throw their hands over their ears, falling over each other in their attempt to scramble away from the newcomers. The woman was crumpled on the floor, creating a blood pool to rival Chuck's.

The crowd spread out, lining themselves up along the wall of windows. All of them had their guns, raised, and simultaneously began to fire. Shattering glass and gunshots and screaming filled my ears, and I thought I might pass out again. Frypan managed to hoist me up off the floor, him and Newt holding me up. One of the men approached us all. He had dark hair and looked young, but wrinkled like he'd spent his life struggling to survive.

"There's no time to explain. Just follow us and run like your life depends on it. Because it does."

Another young man approached Frypan, Newt and me. He spun around, tossed his gun to one of his colleagues, and ordered Newt to move out of the way. Newt started to protest, but the man cut him off: "Just go, kid."

He scooped an arm under the back of my legs, lifting me up and starting to run for the exit. He was following others who'd already started to make a break for the doors. With me in his arms Newt didn't hesitate to follow the man, Frypan close behind him. After the briefest of hesitations, the Gladers started to follow, desperate to get as far away from the Grievers, the Maze, the Creators and the massacre as possible.

I could see Thomas and Teresa overtake me, running hand in hand. I realised we had no choice but to leave Chuck's body behind, and I wondered if anyone had picked up Gally like they had me. The adrenaline filling me up and the hope that we could genuinely be saved managed to mask the severe exhaustion and constant pain from my wound.

As I sat in the arms of a stranger, running to what may be my freedom, I considered the possibility that I may actually be saved. Perhaps they could fix me. Perhaps we'd be free to find our real lives. Perhaps, we could rest.

We continued down the tunnel, all of us just running blindly, numb and silent, save from heavy footfall and panting. In the distance, bright light started to appear, a door to freedom opening ahead of us. As we got closer, the door slid up further, revealing a doorway to which we could actually escape. Flashes of Grievers hiding on the other side popped into my brain, but I willed them away. I had hope.

Finally, the man carrying me burst through the door and we were flooded in bright light. I squinted against it, realising how hard my head was pounding. Once my eyes adjusted, I looked around and noticed the ground under my saviour's feet was almost sandy, like we were in some kind of desert.

He kept running, and I sucked in a breath of surprise when I saw he was running straight for a row of helicopters, lined up and doors open. Thomas and Teresa, just ahead of me, scrambled into one before I was dropped in it myself. Newt was right there beside me, he and Teresa pulling me in properly. The man carrying me had jumped in opposite us, and moved to pull the door shut.

"Wait!" Teresa shouted, pointing to Minho, sprinting towards our helicopter. The man yanked the door back, giving room for Minho to vault inside. He slammed the door shut after himself, looking back out the window to see the rest of the rescuers hopping into copters.

All of the Gladers breathed a collective sigh of relief. We were safe. I made eye contact with Newt and gave a weak smile, before passing out again.

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