SACRIFICE {Newt | The Maze Runner}

ii. The Last Night

Song: SKIN; rag'n'bone man

     SPARKS flew from the hinge as one of the boys burned it away, goggles covering his eyes and a blowtorch in his hand. Harriet gripped my hand in excitement, smiling at me as the door flew open, Thomas flying through it.

The air was thick with dust as we all piled in after him, none of those we had rescued uttered a word, gaunt expressions on their pale faces, they looked starved, beaten, wanting to be dead.

Thomas was resting his hand on one of the boy's shoulders, him and Newt offering a few words of comfort as I realised who it was: Aris. And Sonya right beside him.

"There you are! Oh, God!" Harriet cried as she pulled the pair into a hug, her hand wrapping gently around their shoulders, their own hands weakly snaking around her. Aris looked much worse than Sonya, purple bruises covered most of his face, shining brilliantly around his left eye, the rest of his skin was pale in comparison.

As Harriet pulled away, I rushed over to the pair, tucking Aris's hair behind his ears to get a better look at his face, "What did they do to you?"

He only grimaced, Sonya laying a comforting hand over his as she answered, "He was protecting me, Or. I told him not to."

Harriet crouched down beside Sonya as I walked over to Newt and Thomas, who were further up the carriage, scanning the rows of chained subjects for Minho, or Rachel.

"I need bolt cutters!" Harriet ordered as I slipped out of earshot, my hands wringing together as a tight knot of desperation formed in my chest.

Every terrified face, no matter how young, meant nothing to me. I couldn't see Minho or Rachel among them, and as Thomas reached the end of the carriage, turning to face Newt and I, my worst fears were confirmed.

"He's not here."

The two boys looked at me as I answered, "Neither is Rachel."

Tears began to sting against my eyes as Newt wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his chest and pressing a light kiss to the top of my head, "Don't cry, love. We'll get them back."

I barely found it in me to nod, and the two of us parted to help the subjects out of their confines and into the camp, where much of the remaining Right Arm members were fixing up an old sea-faring vessel for our trip to the Safe Haven.

Five minutes later, comprised of snapping apart chains and they were freed, blankets and coats swiftly pulled over them by the medical team as they went outside. It was a relief when I joined them, the sea breeze that I had become so accustomed to over the past six months meeting me.

Vince had taken his post in front of the congregating mass of rescued teens, arms akimbo as he stood above them, I stood beside Thomas as he began.

"All right, listen up. I know you've all been through hell, I wish I could say our troubles are over. But, we're not through this yet. WICKED's still out there, they're not giving up. Cause you got something they want. They took you because you're immune to a plague that's wiping out the human race. And they think you're worth sacrificing to find a cure. Well, I don't!"

Applause broke out from below, Vince smiled at me as he continued.

"So in two days," he gestured to the ship, "when we get this tub of rust sea worthy, we're getting the hell out of here. We're gonna go to a place where WICKED will never find you, a place you can start over. A place you can call home."

The applause had now escalated to cheers and whoops, I looked sadly over at Thomas, who grimaced. We both knew we had failed, Rachel and Minho were still being held hostage, but we'd be damned if we did nothing about it.