𝐍𝐄𝐖𝐓 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 | 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘻𝘦 𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘳

{32} Wild Cat

"They're late."

Kneeling behind the sandstone rock, Newt was growing anxious. Crouching in the dirt beside him, Y/N tried her best to stay optimistic, but nerves ate at her stomach.
"If they're not here within the next 10 minutes, we have to move down the line. They might have hit trouble."

Nodding at her, Newt took a moment to stop glancing down at the train tracks, instead focusing his eyes on her.
They were facing each other, Newt facing the tracks and Y/N leant against the rock with her knees bent and her rifle tucked to her chest.
When he placed his warm and calloused hand on her knee, her eyes flitted back to his.
"They're not in trouble," he comforted her and himself, "We would have heard the Berg by now."

Nodding, she opened her mouth to reply but was cut off by the earthy rumbling and growl of the incoming train.
Hearing the gunshots following it, Y/N knew the plan had already begun and that Jorge and Brenda were pulling through with their side of it.
Then, the booming howls of a Berg could be heard.
"Speak of the devil..." Y/N smirked halfheartedly at Newt, who simply shook his head in reply yet with a twinkle in his eye.

Now it was their turn.
Readjusting her grip against her sniper rifle, Y/N prepared herself for the signal she knew was soon to come.
The wailing screech of metal against metal told them the carriage had been disconnected, and a short silence preceeded Thomas' echoing whistle.

Popping out from behind the rocks, Newt and Y/N's group shot forward, ready to do their part.
Throwing herself against the train beside Newt, she shielded his work with her body as she tossed her backpack to the ground.
"You good?" She checked in with him.

"All good." He replied as he lowered his goggles onto his face.

As he got to work at disconnecting the container from the rail, she set herself up in front of him.
Drawing the rifle to her shoulder, she peered down the scope at the oncoming group of soldiers.
Once they came into range, she started taking aim.

What felt like hours later, (but was probably seconds), and Newt was nearly finished on the container.

"Shit." She whispered, realising she was out of ammo; she and Vince had managed to take down 3 of the soldiers but more were steadily approaching, but 6 more were still pushing onwards.
Looking to Vince and Thomas for her cue, she saw Thomas begin to stumble back to the container and Vince slink back to her position.

"Vince!" She yelled, "I'm out."
Her desperate and oddly sad tone conveyed her unspoken meaning to Vince.

"Y/N, you don't have to do it." He called back, occasionally returning fire with his handgun.

Tossing her rifle to him, she pulled her jacket off and her jumper over her head.
"Yes, I do. I can buy you more time. I'll be fine, just look after my jumper- it's my favourite one." She tried to shoot him a reassuring smile, but was certain it looked more like a grimace.

Understanding she wasn't backing down on this, Vince knew there was no stopping her now. Gravely, he nodded at her and struggled to keep the worry and pity out of his gaze. She always hated it when he looked at her like that.

Finally, Newt noticed what she was doing when her shoes hit the floor and she was stood in the howling desert, nothing more than old grey cargo trousers and a black tank top on.
"Y/N?! What are you doing?!" He yelped confusedly over the cacophony of wind, gunfire and yells.