One Of Us - A Gally, Maze Runner Fan Fiction

Chapter 8 - Hollow

Song - Arcade (Duncan Laurence)

As we rested beside our fire in an old ruin for shelter, my brain tried to comprehend all the different aspects of pain and grief I should be feeling. It felt as if I was already dead, but my sick murderer just kept stabbing and stabbing at my stomach for pure enjoyment. My mind couldn't figure out whether to grieve, rage, or carry on with our journey so instead I just lay with my head on my backpack, far enough away from everyone to just stare at the flames crackling and popping in the still night.

The usual comfort I gained from my brother, or my two best friend's presence made no difference to the growing, gaping hole in my heart. The names of my dead loved ones just kept growing. Mum, Dad, Ben, Alby, Jeff, Chuck, Gally and now Winston. On top of that, I tried to grapple with our current position. The middle of the desert. No food. No water. Our destination, which may be completely pointless, still miles ahead. The entire Wicked organisation on the hunt for us. And my brother right in front of me... but he doesn't even remember. So instead of dealing with the ever-growing weight on my shoulders, my mind and body went numb, and I just watched the orange flames flicker back and forth, listening to the crackles and the soft conversation between the others.

"I thought we were immune?" Minho muttered while fiddling with his knife.

"Not all of us... I guess," Teresa sighed, head on her backpack.

"If Winston can get infected, then we should assume so can the rest of us," Newt decided, eyes not leaving the fire and hand not wavering from Tom's thigh for a second.

"I'd never thought I would say this... but I miss the Glade,' Frypan croaked, puffy eyes and tear-streaked face still prominent in the dim orange glow of the fire.

I mulled over his words. It hadn't occurred to me ever that I agreed with him. Although we were captives... the Glade was the freest I had ever felt since Wicked ripped me and Newt away from our parents. I missed my hammock under the stars. I missed the med hut. And I missed the people I loved not being frightened for their lives. But most of all I missed the person that could even now make me smile when I think of his sly grin... but also shiver when I picture his hollow, grey, dead face.

With the sudden silence that blanketed the group, I decided that was a sign of sleep. I closed my eyes, body and mind so exhausted that it was hard even to find sleep. To soothe my relentless thoughts, I pictured the Glade. How the treetops looked at night from my hammock. How the sun rose over the wall at dawn. How the birds chirping, wind whistling, and boyish shouts blended to create the lullaby in my mind that sent me to sleep.

The hours began to slur together. Each step blurry in my memory because our destination never seemed to get closer. The haze of the desert enveloped us, and the harsh sun beat down on our skin. I used my jacket over my face for some sort of protection, but it didn't stop the growing tightness in my muscles, dryness in my mouth, and headache in my brain. The eery silence of the desert almost drove me mad. My eyes flickered open and shut until I was just following Thomas in front of me blindly.

Once we finally stopped for the night and the sun had gone completely under the horizon, I practically collapsed onto the ground. I almost fell asleep right there but before I did I felt Minho lie beside me and cover my bare shoulders with another jacket. His jacket. I would have said thank you, but sleep had already grasped me by the hands and was pulling me deeper down.

I don't know what pulled me out of my slumber, but my eyes flickered open, almost impossible as every part of my body ached. For a moment I thought I was still dreaming because I saw... lights. Lights like a city. Really close. We were almost there.