Finality | The Maze Runner / Newt ³ ✓

{1.8}

Disclaimer:

Thomas: Is anyone else scared?

Newt: Not really. I've already lived longer than I expected.

-✼-

The Right Arm was many things, but courteous was not one of them. Instead of providing us with a new van, they had Lawrence drive the one we'd taken to the headquarters, even though it was missing a window and had too many dents in it to count. The splintering crack in the windshield seemed to be close to making the entire thing shatter. The one thing they did supply us with was my gun and a pilot who looked less than happy to come with us to the Berg hangar.

I recalled my goodbye with Brenda ("You're strong, so try not to die. Keep Thomas in line, too, while you're at it") and the hug she's unexpectedly pulled me into. We never really had time to establish any sort of friendship due to the fact that we always seemed to be running for our lives, but she was a decent person. She'd been kind to me when she didn't have to be. And I counted that as a score in my good books.

Now, we drove through Denver with Thomas and I sitting in the backseat of the van. It felt jarringly empty without Brenda's remarks to fill the heavy silence. The anxiety between the four of us was palpable, causing my throat to lock up and make me silent.

I hadn't gotten a chance to see the city in the daylight. It was heartbreakingly beautiful. Only parts of it were damaged— garbage cans carelessly tipped over with trash spilling onto the sidewalks, abandoned cars parked in the streets, some glass windows broken — but otherwise, the citizens had succeeded in preserving its beauty. Skyscrapers towered toward the cloudless sky with the sunlight glinting off of them.

I could almost imagine what this place was like before the Flare and before the world collapsed into utter turmoil. I envisioned families walking down the streets, children skipping alongside their parents and begging to enter every shop they passed. Buses full of people cruising by. But now, everything was empty. Only a sparse amount of figures roamed around, and Cranks lurked in various corners.

"Okay, remember the plan," Lawrence said to Thomas and I, effectively snapping the silence.

"What plan?" I asked, wondering if I'd missed out on anything during my daydream.

"Make it to the hangar without dying."

Ah. So I hadn't missed anything.

The van lapsed into a tense silence again. I reached over to Thomas worldlessly, nudging his fingers with my own. His palm opened and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. He seemed significantly less confident than he had been last night, which reassured me. At least I wasn't the only one worrying, now.

Lawrence pulled onto a highway that led to one of the gated edges of the walled city. Barricades lined either side of the road in order to keep the noise from disturbing nearby homes. Instead of appearing helpful, I only felt slightly caged in by the massive structures.

"This'll take us all the way," Lawrence informed us. "The hangar is probably our most protected facility, so all we have to do is make it there. An hour from now and we'll be up in the air, happy and safe."

"Good that," Thomas answered, voice steady, but another squeeze of my hand informed me that he wasn't as put-together as he seemed when he spoke. Since the rearview mirror was missing, Lawrence couldn't see the slight fear on my brother's face.