Finality | The Maze Runner / Newt ³ ✓

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Disclaimer:

I own The Maze Runner.........said me never.

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With the Berg's power back on, I could definitely feel the difference in temperature. The cool air blasting in every room cooled my sweaty skin significantly, though making it clammy in the process as well. Stray baby hairs still stuck around my forehead. I really must have been a sore sight.

The six of us sat in a group in the main room where all the comfortable chairs were. Thomas had refused to leave my side, hovering around me nonstop. But I couldn't look at Garret. Not knowing what I had done to his best friend.

The boy looked the same for the most part, and yet there was something different about him that I couldn't quite place. His straw-blond hair was sticking up in all directions, face pink from sunburn and eyes still a stormy gray. He seemed to have gained a bit of muscle since the Glade. It made me wonder what he had gone through to get it.

"Garret, why don't you explain how you're here?" Thomas suggested, the first to speak.

Garret nodded. He inhaled before recounting, "The Grievers...sometimes they didn't kill us. Every time you saw someone going into their flesh, we didn't die." I caught the word 'we' immediately. "Those nights where the Grievers took someone? They didn't kill any of them. Took 'em back to W.I.C.K.E.D to continue being tested. Gally was one of them. By the time I got there, he was already planning to break out. Once I found out his plan of faking insanity, he let me come with him.

"I had information, he had the strength. He didn't want me to come because two escaping subjects would be more suspicious than one, but Gally couldn't bear not knowing what I did. So once he promised to get me out, I told him how the Creators were planning on wiping our memories and starting a new Maze. Adjusting the Trials to better suit their needs, putting us back in that hellhole again like it was no big deal.

"So we ran. Found this organization called the Right Arm, an anti-W.I.C.K.E.D group who helped us get here. Now, thanks to us, they have more information."

"So, yeah, Gally's here," Thomas confirmed, knowing what I was going to ask before I even opened my mouth. "He's not that bad anymore- he just really hated us."

There were a few moments of silence. Minho, Jorge, and Brenda had been uncharacteristically silent the entire time. I guessed that Minho was still thinking about Newt. There was no longer a sign that he was going to cry, but his eyes seemed far away and his body was rigid.

"I want you five to listen to me," Minho finally began, taking a second to look at each of us before continuing. "Ever since we broke out of W.I.C.K.E.D, I've basically gone along with whatever you slintheads ended up saying we should do. And I haven't complained. Much." A grin at Thomas. "But right here, right now, I'm making a decision and you're going to do what I say. And if anyone pushes back, to hell with you.

"I know we have bigger goals in mind. We need to connect with the Right Arm, figure out what to do about W.I.C.K.E.D-- all that save-the-world klunk. But first, we're going to find Newt. This isn't up for discussion. The six of us - all of us - are flying to wherever we need to go, and we're getting Newt out of there. Dylan, did they happen to say where they were taking him?"

Before I had the chance to answer, Brenda cut in. "They call it the Crank Palace. It has to be what he was talking about."