HEY GUYS! I'M BACK WITH THE SEQUEL! I hope you enjoy :)
My hands are sore from banging on the door and my throat feels scratchy from screaming. Noah left a while ago, leaving me to ponder what the hell's going on. He claimed he had to go greet the Gladers. That implies that they survived, and are currently in WICKED. But that doesn't mean they're safe.
My dad told me to get mom, Noah, and me out of here and somewhere safe. That has to mean that WICKED isn't safe. I never trusted them, but they kept me fed and a roof was over my head. I was satisfied, but apparently, I shouldn't get too comfortable.
" Let me out! " I scream, but no one walking past looks in my direction. It's as if the door is invisible, a one way mirror maybe. I keep thinking that if I hit it hard enough it will crack.
Noah strides into view, and comes to a stop in front of my door. For a second, I let the tiniest bit of hope worm it's way into my system. His emerald green eyes dart over to my door, but he doesn't move to open it. I grind my teeth in frustration as he starts to talk.
" This is the living quarters. " Noah says, and I immediately pick up on his lie. This is where they hold insurgents. It's not exactly comfortable. The mattress on the bed has springs that poke you in the back if you lay down on it. I tried sitting in the chair, but it collapsed under my weight. These aren't living quarters, they're prison cells.
" Just assign our bloody rooms and let us sleep. " A groggy voice says. It's coated with sorrow, but most importantly, it's british.
My heart does three flips and then dives into my stomach. A slow smile spreads across my face. Newt survived. He's right in front of me. All that's separating us is this damn door. I bang on the door harder than I did before. Louder screams escape my mouth, but the white walls must be sound proof. They can't hear me.
" Two people are assigned to each room. " Noah says, glancing at the clip board in his hand. His eyes flash over to the glass I'm looking through. He can't see me, but he knows I'm watching. He smirks.
" Just get on with it. It's been a long day. " a voice says, muffled by the door. I can still tell it's Thomas' voice.
Noah ignores him as he continues talking. " The two people in this room, " he gestures to the room across from the one I'm in. " Will be Newt and Thomas. "
" Where are the showers? " Authority and arrogance laces this voice, so it has to be Minho.
" Down the hall and to your left. " Noah looks at them from over his glasses. His brown hair falls into his eyes. " You all should get cleaned up. I'll assign the rest of the rooms later. "
Noah disappears from my sight, and a disheveled Minho enters it. His eyes glance in my direction, and for a minute I think he sees me. I hold my breath, wanting him to open the door and take me into his arms. To show all the Gladers that I am alive and I will help them. Yet, he just continues his pace, despite my desperate screams.
Thomas walks past, his eyes red and puffy. I rack my brain for people he was close to, but the only one that comes to mind is Teresa. Did she...die? Is my best friend dead?
A breath I didn't know I was holding is released as I see Teresa trudge by. Her hair is pulled back into a messy ponytail and blood smears her clothes. The distant look in her eyes is a sign she's lost someone too.
A normally cheerful Frypan follows, the same sad look on his face. Winston is right by his side, his pimple ridden face set in a hopeless frown. Clint walks by right after them, blood covering his hands and clothes. Tears fall from his eyes, and I know Jeff is dead. No one could separate them in the Glade. Only his death could cause Clint to appear so broken.
My heart stops as I see familiar blonde hair limp into view. His eyes are hollow and lifeless. His face is bruised and bloody. His machete is no where to be found, seemingly lost in the battle to get here. His blond hair is matted with crimson blood, and I pray that it isn't his.
With new found inspiration, I take a few steps back from the door. After bracing myself with a deep breath, I charge forward, hitting the glass door full force. I feel it give under my weight. Newt stops walking, and looks curiously at the door. He had to have heard it.
My shoulder begins to ache from the rough impact, but I back up again and charge forward. The glass door cracks, and Newt jumps back in surprise. He slowly walks toward it, and his hand goes to the slide it open. He grabs the handle and I see the door open a little bit—
" I wouldn't do that if I were you. " Noah says from down the hall.
Newt's brown eyes dart from the door to Noah, a curious look flurrying in his eyes. I try to say his name, but from all the screaming, it comes out as a mere whisper. His eyes widen a bit, and for a second I think he'll open the door and see me. He'll know I'm alive.
" Louisa? " He whispers, his eyes getting a little glassy. I move my hands to the handle and pull it further over, but it doesn't move. The door is stuck in place.
" I told you she was dead. It does no good to dwell on the past. You have your future you have to nurture. " Noah says, but I here the urgency in his voice. I look at Newt, and he puts his hand on the crack in the door. I put my hand up to match his, my eyes pleading him to open the door even though I know he can't see me.
Not a second later, he drops his hand and shakes his head. " She's dead you moron. " He mumbles under his breath. Such pain flickers across his face it makes me want to burst through the door and help him. Yet, he just walks away.
I stumble back from the door, tears in my eyes. Were those the only Gladers that survived? Does that mean Gally, Nick, Alby, and Chuck didn't make it? The chubby thirteen year old boy died? I didn't know him that well, but he was too young. Too gentle. And he died because of WICKED.
My back slides down the wall as tears fall. I thought that seeing Newt safe would fill the black abyss inside of me, but it only made it worse. It's like watching his ghost walk around. He has no clue about what's going to happen to him, and I don't want to tell him. He's walking around with a false sense of security. When he finds out, it will be devastating.
….
I'm still laying curled in a ball on the floor when the door slides open. I hear footsteps walk towards me, but I keep my eyes squeezed shut. If I never open them again, maybe the pain will go away. Maybe I'll never have to face any of them ever again. Hell, who knows? It is possible that Newt will think I'm a traitor like Minho does. He could hate me. Push me away and never want to see me again.
" Get up. " A rough voice says. I shake my head no and hug my knees to my chest. I just want to lay here and die. I've given up.
" I thought your mother raised you better. " The voice snaps. " Get up! "
My eyes snap open as a hand grabs my arm and roughly pulls me to my feet. I'm staring at Janson's crooked nose. I take a couple steps back, wary of what he might do. Ratman is one of those unpredictable people. You can't trust them because you'll end up betrayed.
" You are to stay hidden for the next three days. After that, you're being sent to the Scorch. You will train with Brenda at night. A guard will accompany you. I don't want you being seen. I might just have to hurt someone if you are. Do I make myself clear? " Janson asks, and I just nod, numb to the world. Nothing surprises me anymore. I've accepted the fact that my life is hell.
" The Gladers are asleep right now. You start training now. " Ratman grabs my arm, and pulls me out the door. I glance at the room across from mine, my heart dragging on the ground. I want to care. I want to let myself love Newt the way he deserves to be, but I can't even love myself right now. He deserves someone like Sonya, or Brenda. Strong willed, brave, forgiving and intelligent. I am none of those things. He needs someone who knows how to handle the fact that he isn't immune, because I can't. The very thought is making me crack.
I follow Janson through the dim hallways of WICKED. Doors are on each side of the hallway, and I know that there are sleeping Gladers in there. I shake my head. They're so damn close.
I don't have to be careful about running into anyone, so I take longer strides in an attempt to work the stiffness out of my legs. My butt is still numb from sitting in the floor for so long. I notice more dirt and scuff marks on the floor, probably from the Gladers.
Less people roam the hallways, and more are asleep. I guess with the Gladers out they no longer have to watch the Maze. It makes me wonder if you could still call them Gladers. They don't live in the Glade anymore. I can't call them my friends either. They stopped being that a long time ago.
I'll call them Familiars. They are in that weird zone where you kind of know them, but you don't. We could be friends, but they're attitude towards me changed a lot, so I don't know what to think anymore. I think Familiars is the best thing to call them.
Ratman comes to a stop in front of the training room. It's so sudden I almost run into him. He glares at me over his shoulder as he pulls the door open. As we walk in I notice a speck of blood on the back of his white lab coat. Curiosity flares inside of me like a raging flame that can't be tamed. The blood looks more like it was splattered on there, not smeared. The only question is: how did it happen?
" You have two hours. Go. " Ratman says, not even glancing over his shoulder. I walk past him and glance around. Brenda is stretching on the blue floor mats. They shine with sweat, and I hesitate to walk on them. My black converse will be tainted with the sweat of other people.
" Louisa! " Brenda shouts as she finally sees me. " Get your ass over here! "
I sigh as I step onto the mat and make my way over to her. It gives under my feet a little, and I realize that they've replaced it. The other wasn't cushioned. It was like a brick, and this one is almost like walking on a cloud.
" How have you been? " Brenda asks, eyeing me up and down. Her hair is in a messy ponytail and makeup is smudged on her face. I didn't think they had makeup here, but it doesn't surprise me that Brenda had managed to find some.
" Fine. " I say. Isn't that what you're supposed to say? You never say what you're really feeling. You say what they expect you to say. I'm fine. I'm okay. I'm good. All three are lies.
" Have you been thinking about that kid? " She asks while going into a split. " What was his name? Newt? "
I bend down and touch my toes as I reply. " Yea. "
" You do know that he doesn't have the Flare, right? " She says while grabbing her right foot. Wait. So the Flare isn't dormant in the system until something triggers it? It's like a virus instead of whatever it was I was thinking about.
" What do you mean? " I say while standing up. My legs are still stiff, so I try to do a split. But, I'm still a good six inches from the ground.
" I mean, that he doesn't have the Flare yet. He may not be immune, but he can still live a life without the Flare. " Brenda says while grabbing her left foot.
A life without the Flare? I had been so consumed with depression that I hadn't even thought of it like that. A grinning, happy Newt flashes through my mind and I let a smile creep onto my face. It's like this weight has been taken off of me. The black abyss that was there has been filled with this new light—hope that Newt will live.
" Of course, " Brenda continues, " He's going into the Scorch. He'll be surrounded by cranks there. I don't know if he can avoid it. "
And just like that, the darkness is back. But, determination resides inside of it like the flickering flame of a candle. I need to get Newt out of phase two. He can't go into the Scorch. I'll go in his place. I'll even send Lee in his place, I just can't let Newt go. He still has a chance to live. His future hasn't been taken away yet.
" You ready? " I ask her while rising to my feet. She nods and stands up.
Ever since Brenda and I have started training together, we've developed a routine. We start off with light stretching, then we do some technique work. After that we do two light jogs around the training room, then we start some weight training. Next, we fight.
" A Crank has grabbed your waist and is pulling you back while trying to eat you. What do you do? " Brenda asks, crossing her arms over her chest. I drive my right elbow back into an imaginary body, then I turn around and flip it over my shoulder. Brenda nods, apparently satisfied.
She tells me another situation, and I do what would save my ass. Yet, my mind is elsewhere. I'm thinking of what I can do in order to save Newt's sanity. I could always just run to my mom and beg her to save him. Didn't she drag me out of the Maze? Does my brother have any influence over this type of stuff? Can Chancellor Ava Paige even be bribed? I don't know the answers to any of these questions, but I will.
Newt will not go into the Scorch with the other Gladers.
I will save his life.
Did you like it? I know I said five days on the last chapter of Fighting Against You, but I just got so excited. Also, the cover was made by one of my followers on instagram so shoutout to her! ( i forgot her username oops. )
Soooo question. Would you mind if I branched off a bit at first, but then it meets up with the plot line later? And then at the end I branch off again? I hope that's okay, because I don't do that well sticking to plots of other stories.
Pardon any grammar mistakes please. It's midnight where I live and my wrist is killing me. ( I sprained it. )
Well, I hope you all have an amazing night, morning, day, evening, afternoon, I'm going to go to sleep.