"Alright, we're going to do a supply run tomorrow. We're not that low, but I'd rather be safe than sorry." Vince paced around in one of the management huts, talking to the able bodied people who resided in the compound. "Now, some of you went last time, so of course, you're exempt from going this time if you don't want to go."
"I'll go." Gally stood up.
"Are you sure, Gally? You've gone every single time."
"Look, I know the Last City like the back of my hand. I know what we need, and where we get it. I'm going." Gally sat back down roughly, as if to finalize his point.
Vince ran a hand through his hair. "Alright. Any other volunteers, or do I gotta pick names?"
"I'll go." Thomas volunteered.
"I'm going too." Minho abruptly stood up.
"Now you guys haven't done this before, I don't want you to decide anything without thinking about-"
"I haven't done anything useful yet, and I've been here two weeks. I gotta learn sometime, right?"
"Yeah, and if Thomas is going, then I'm going too." Minho put his arm around Thomas's shoulders as an act of support.
Vince sighed. "Alright. That's three. You need an adult chaperone, and preferably one more person who's been on a supply run before-"
"Say no more, me and Brenda got this." Jorge entered the hut, Brenda trailing behind him.
Vince threw his hands up in the air. "Can I never finish a goddamn sentence around here? Fine, you got your troop. Head out tomorrow, and make sure to tell the chefs to give you an early breakfast. Gally, Jorge, Brenda, make sure you take care of these kids."
The next morning…
It wasn't any different for Thomas to wake up to go for supplies, as he got up early every morning. But Gally looked miffed, Jorge was yawning, and even Minho was looking a little bleary-eyed.
"All right, we're going to take the truck with the trailer. Food is always the number one priority, then clothing. We got a few other things on our list, so if you see 'em, grab 'em, but don't fight a Crank just to grab a shucking bar of soap." Gally threw a few packed lunches into the seat of the car.
"I call shotgun!" Brenda exclaimed, and scrambled into the front seat next to Jorge, who was driving. Minho grumbled and climbed into the back, Thomas and Gally squeezing in next to him.
It had been Thomas's first trip out of the Safe Haven since they got there, and everywhere else looked like hell. There was only one way to drive out of it and back into the Scorch, a long driveway connecting the island with the mainland, a heavy gate in the front to keep the Cranks out. As soon as they had got to the Safe Haven, a troop of people worked nonstop to create a supply road. There was only enough room for one car to drive across slowly, but it was better than always taking the boat.
Jorge drove fast through the Scorch, and all of Thomas's memories from this place smacked his brain, one after the other. The abandoned mall. Winston. The battle with WCKD. Teresa's betrayal.
Minho glanced at his friend, who was staring stone-faced out the window, and sighed. This was probably a mistake to bring him along.
It took them 5 hours to get to the broken down border of the Last City. Jorge parked their truck, and turned to look at his passengers, as they sat a couple miles away in a safe zone.
"Alright, y'all got to be on your guard when we go through there, okay? Expect to see a Crank on every corner. We've gotta be as quick as we can."
"Sorry, but where are we going? I thought the Last City was totally destroyed." Thomas asked.
"Most if it was," Jorge replied. "But there are a couple centers where we can find stuff. Not many people know about them, cause if they did, Cranks would be all over that stuff."
"Cranks aren't what we have to worry about," Gally piped in from the back.
"You haven't been in the City as much as I have, Jorge, and I heard stuff from Lawrence too. There's another branch of WCKD, one that wasn't completely destroyed. They're looking for the cure too, but not for everybody, just those select few that can pay millions for it. And not all of them are dead."
"Figures," Brenda muttered bitterly. "The world is completely destroyed, and some assholes are still trying to get rich."
"Settle down, settle down." Jorge put his hands up to stop the conversation. "All right, we'll avoid WCKD too, my point is we just gotta watch our backs in there. Any more questions?"
"No sir," the rest of the car muttered, and Jorge drove the car towards the city.
The city was a burnt shell of its former self. Once a sparkling metropolis of modern industry, was now just another charred framework that mirrored the rest of the urban centers. Thomas was overwhelmed at the sheer destruction that had happened that night, and as they passed a charred skeleton crushed beneath fallen building debris, he suddenly longed for the Safe Haven.
"I don't like it here, let's go back." Thomas said, his voice quavering.
"We won't spend any more time here than we have to, but remember hermano, without these trips, we could very easily run out of things we need." Jorge replied.
"I know." Thomas slumped back in his seat and closed his eyes, not wanting to see anything he didn't have to. The ride was silent for a little while, until Jorge parked the car next to a burnt bus, and passed around a jug of water.
Thomas opened his eyes, and leaned forward. "So where are we stopping first-Jesus Christ!" he shouted. A Crank was pressing against his window, black darkened eyes roaming, black veins popping, scabbing hands smearing the glass.
"Shit!" Jorge yelled, and stepped on the gas, propelling them away from the Crank. Thomas's heart was pounding, but as he looked back at the writhing figure, he couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy.
"We couldn't have helped him, he was way past the Gone." Brenda said, almost reading his mind, and she tried to give him a reassuring smile.
Thomas nodded, but he couldn't help looking back and thinking how that could have been Newt. Newt could have become sick like that.
Maybe it was better that he was gone then, so that he would never have to experience it.
The supply run was pretty uneventful after that, but Thomas was still tense. He would jump if Minho touched his shoulder, and his heart would pick up if he sensed someone behind him, even if it was just Gally gathering blankets. The supply posts were well hidden, and if Jorge hadn't pointed them out, Thomas definitely would have missed them. A couple of hours or so later, Jorge pulled up to a building wreckage close to the spot of the former WCKD headquarters.
"Well, we've gotten everything on our list, but if any of you need to pass some water, make sure you piss right on the WCKD remains."
Gally got out and moved seamlessly behind a large piece of fallen concrete, and Brenda moved to a spot as well. Obviously peeing where WCKD used to meet was a tradition that every supply runner was supposed to fulfill.
Thomas looked around, and started walking. He didn't actually feel the need to go, but stretching his legs was a must.
"Thomas!" Jorge yelled from behind him. "Don't go too far!"
"It's okay, I'll go with him!" Minho yelled back, obviously done his business, and hurried to join his friend.
They walked in tense silence, observing the battlefield. Thomas didn't even know exactly where he walked, until he reached a concrete clearing that was painfully familiar. Glass stood surprisingly unshattered around them, a trembling door frame in front, smashed lights littering the rough concrete. He looked back at Minho, who looked to recognize it too. "This is where Newt…"
Thomas swallowed hard. "Yeah." his voice cracked slightly. He slowly approached the exact place where it happened, and knelt down, putting his palm flat against the concrete. The brunette let out a quiet sob, and he could hear Minho approaching behind him.
"Why isn't he here?"
Thomas startled at his friend's question, and turned his face up. "What?"
"Well," the Asian boy squatted next to the spot. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think anybody here has a morgue that they move the bodies to. And we saw all the other ones. So why isn't Newt here?"
Suddenly, Thomas noticed something laying on the ground under a slab of fallen roof, glass glinting. "Hey, what's that?"
He picked up a small, clear tube that had rolled slightly away. It had a small needle, and a plunger on the other end.
"Looks like an injector of some kind," Minho observed.
"Yeah." At a loss of what to do next, Thomas pocketed it. "C'mon, let's go back to the others." With a last glance at the spot, Thomas and Minho ran back to their group.
The car ride was quiet, and though Jorge attempted conversation, only Gally and Brenda participated. Finally fed up with the silence of his companions, Gally turned to the other boys. "What's with you shanks? You haven't said a word since the Piss Palace."
"We saw Newt's…spot." Minho replied quietly, staring at his hands, though Thomas stayed focused out the window. Gally's gaze softened.
"Yeah, I've been there a couple times. First time I went on a run, I thought I'd bring him back, but he wasn't there. Bummed me out, but what can you do?"
"Yeah." Thomas said softly.
Jorge bit his lip and looked around at his passengers, then sighed as he sensed no one was up for light conversation, and the car ride was silent until it got back to the Safe Haven.
"How will we find him?"
"He'll come."
"I didn't ask that, I asked how we find him."
"Trust me. He'll come."
The voices were clearer than he had heard the last time he woke. The first voice was a woman, a high, scratchy sound that hurt Newt's ears. The second one was male, one that Newt was certain he'd heard before.
"How much do we have left?" the male asked.
"Enough for a little while sir, but I don't know how many of us need it or will need it."
"Enough for me and for him. Bait doesn't work if the bait is dead."
Bait? Who was bait?
"He'll have to come soon sir. We're counting that this works." With that, the female voice left, with heels clacking on polished floors.
"So am I, Eileen. So am I." the male voice muttered.
Ooh… is Newt bait? And for what? Who's this guy? And what's going on with this injector thing? Find out in Chapter 4!