I passed another length of ivy on the ground and didn't even bother kicking it to the side.
Minho.
My footfalls echoed off the walls, making the darkening sky more ominous.
Where the shuck was he?!
The Doors would close any minuet yet and the Grievers would be prowling.
"Minho!"
We'd come a long way since being stuck in the Maze with Alby together and I knew more about the Maze then most of the other Gladers, but this was insane… I could never make it back at the rate the light was fading.
My previous cry seemed to bounce off the walls and come back to me.
I knew why Minho had left so close to the door closing time – and his reason for leaving was also why I was looking more franticly as I ran.
Newt.
I'd heard him scream earlier today and got to the South Doors just in time to see Minho dash into the Maze. Chuck told me he had ran after Newt and I started after both of them.
But that was before the sun started setting and now with each foot fall an ounce of hope vanished and a pint of desperation willed me forward.
Blood.
I saw blood droplets on the ground and picked up my pace, following the trail.
"Newt! Minho!?"
I heard a moan, "Thomas…"
I practically dove around the next corner and into the Asian.
"M-minho! We gotta get back, man." My gaze flickered around until I saw Newt's limp body laying a few paces away.
Eyes flashing to Minho one last time, I bounded over to Newt and gently rolled the boy onto his back.
My throat swelled as I listened for a heartbeat.
My breath stopped.
And then I heard a faint pulse and a slight breath came from his lips. I exhaled with him and closed my eyes.
When I opened them again, the world already seemed darker and I snapped my attention back to Minho.
"Dude, we got to get back, the doors are closing soon." I now saw the blood covering my friends.
Minho nodded and I could see a huge gash in his forehead.
"Get up and help me get him." I nodded my head towards Newt and Minho attempted to stand but yelled in sharp pain and fell back against the wall.
As I drew my hands off of Newt's slowly rising and falling chest, I saw how bloody they were. His whole right side was crimson and the ground around it.
"Shuck it!" I hissed, ripping off my shirt and pressing it against his side.
Minho had staggered to his feet and steadied himself against the wall.
"We're shucked, Thomas."
I shot him a glare.
"No we're not." I replied calmly, "help me get him."
The bigger kid staggered over too me and we lifted Newt's surprisingly light body between us.
I eyed Minho to make sure he wouldn't pitch forward at our first steps.
"We're gonna have to run – fast."
He nodded.
As we started running, I heard the moan of a Griever and I picked up speed. Minho staggered a foot or so behind, always lagging, Newt more on my shoulder then his.
I wanted to ask what happened, but I knew what Minho had told me: don't talk, you waste you're energy. So I tried to channel it into my legs.
Practically dragging them both, I rounded the corner with the length of ivy on the ground.
I gritted my teeth. Just a little further.
"C'mon Minho! We can make it!"
He grunted and tried to pick up his limping pace to match mine.
We came around the next corner and I saw Chuck waiting by the doors.
"Thomas!" the boy squealed with delight.
I couldn't reply through my wheezed breath as we stumbled through and collapsed into the grass, the screeching of stone alerting me to my narrowly successful rescue mission.
My chest was compressed. I felt like air had ceased to exist and I choked and gasped for air – none came.
The trees near the Dead-Heads were foggy and I tried to blink away the haze but it only got worse.
Black specks.
"Thomas? He's not as bad as Newt… he'll be around soon…" I recognized one of the Med-Jack's voices as my mind jolted from the unconsciousness.
Inhaling deeply, I blinked before opening my eyes and looking at the speaker. Minho stood next to Jeff, head wound in a bandage.
His eyes caught mine and he took two long strides to my side.
"You and you're dumb shank moves." He looked like he was trying not to smile, "Just because I started teaching you to run, doesn't mean you can just run in the shuckin' Maze whenever you feel like it! Looks like you're born to be a rule breaker…"
I grinned and he rolled his eyes.
Newt.
I bolted upright making my head spin and my breath catch. "Newt!" I spluttered, already out of bed and talking towards Jeff.
The kid took a step back and waved his hands in defense.
"He's fine, he's fine. In the other room, you crazy shank."
I brushed past him, ignoring my throbbing head and stomped into the neighboring room.
He looked paler and thinner than normal, his face had Band-Aid's of various sizes applied here and there. Appearing to still be out, I decided not to waked him and wait. I exhaled sharply and sank into the rickety chair beside his bed.
I felt my head spin and I squeezed my eyes closed, trying to block the pain somehow. Glancing at the watch on my wrist, I guessed it had only been ten minutes since the doors closed.
I hated waiting.
He finally stirred, and I leaned towards him.
"Newt?"
Sharp eyes flashed open, and his immediate look was a glare, but his expression went blank and he looked away.
"Tommy…" He sighed, wincing as he shifted in the bed.
I worked my jaw. "What the shuck got into you, man?! Running into the Maze, you almost died! And Minho too!"
He closed his eyes, brows furrowing in obvious pain.
"Bloody memories…" His voice rasped as he grasped a hand to his bandaged side. "…more like hallucinations…" he trailed off as he opened his eyes.
He wouldn't look at me.
I cleared my throat. "Are you… okay?"
He offered a short laugh, dry of humor.
"Are any of us?"
Sighing again he continued hesitantly as he finally raise his eyes to mine.
"I barely know what's real, Thomas. I think I'm losing my mind…" His voice had dropped in volume and I realized I was leaning close to his face to hear him.
Slumping back slowly, I nodded.
"Aren't we all…" I muttered.
He considered, "Well, you bloody are for sure, Tommy. Whatever you do, you just can't seem to bloody kill yourself."
I gave a half laugh and he raised an eyebrow.
Looking down at my hands, I muttered:
"I couldn't lose you both…"
He shook his head. "Well, whatever your reason, one things for sure: you were born to be a bloody rule breaker."