Chapter 16
I held Gabe's body, sobbing into his shirt, until Charlie gently pulled me away. I stumbled back, watching his body fall from my arms and flop on the floor. My insides were numb, and it felt like my brain couldn't control the rest of my body.
I felt hands lifting me to my feet, and guiding me outside.
The cool night breeze hit my face, freezing my tears into cold streaks on my skin.
They gently led me to a car, and shuffled me inside. I leaned my head against the window, staring blankly at the rising dunes.
All I could see in my mind though, was the smile on Gabe's face as he slipped into death.
How he told me he loved me.
How I was the one who pulled the trigger.
I vaguely remember Bits and Joan getting into the car beside me, exchanging worried glances as they watched me fall into my own mind.
Will sat in the front, next to Charlie, who was driving.
The rest of the rescue team was marching behind us like an army.
When we reached the camp, the rescue team started to carry the diseased to the woods. I realized Gabe wasn't the only one who died in the rescue.
As if summoning him, I saw two former Gladers solemnly carrying his limp body behind the rest.
My feet carried me after them, following the body of my oldest friend.
The group stopped when we reached a grassy clearing. I saw small mounds of earth, and realized this must be their graveyard.
I followed the two boys carrying Gabe's corpse to a flat spot in the clearing.
Shovels were passed out, and I took one.
When I started digging, I felt the presence of others around me.
I looked up to see Joan, Charlie, Bits, Will, and Alex all silently shoveling beside me.
A small bud of hope bloomed inside me, and I turned back to scooping dirt from the slowly growing crater in the ground.
Once it was as wide, and twice as deep as the body, we put down our tools.
I walked over to Gabe's body. His skin was cold and his eyes were closed. I pulled out the note he had given me a few days before.
I carefully placed it on his chest, right above the bullet hole. The paper started to turn red as the blood seeped into its surface.
I rested my forehead against his, a single tear falling from the corner of my eye and splashing on his cheek.
Then the burriers picked up his body, and carefully lowered it into the ground.
I picked up my shovel, and we started pouring the sandy dirt back into the hole.
Once there was only a subtle mound to mark his grave, I placed a single daisy on top, like I'd done with Victoria's.
The day after the rescue, I had been sitting on the edge of a cliff, looking out over the mountain range and thinking about the Glade, when I heard a commotion down below.
I looked over the rim of the earth, and saw a car drive up to the abandoned road that had been purposefully blocked with banged-up old cars.
The vehicle was one I'd never seen before, and had two big bull horns attached to the front.
It stopped, and eight figures stepped out. There were six guys and two girls.
One of them stopped and glanced up, the afternoon sunlight glinting off his olive-colored skin.
I sucked in a breath, and leaned forwards.
It was Minho, and now I recognized Newt, Thomas, Aris, and Frypan as well. The other three were unfamiliar to me.
Then I realized they were headed right for the sniper's range.
I got up and started running for the camp, sprinting over rocks and cracks in the earth.
Just as I reached it, I heard gunfire.
The people who were milling about glanced up at the sound, and saw me running towards them.
Charlie stood up.
"What the shuck is going on, Cleo?" She asked.
I skidded to a halt, bending over to catch my breath.
"It's–it's Thomas' group." I gasped.
Her face morphed into surprise.
"Well bloody shuck me. I thought we'd never see those shanks again." She muttered.
I nodded, the same thought having crossed my mind.
We heard another round of fire go off, making me flinch.
I exchanged looks with her, and we ran back to the cliff.
Peeking over we saw that Harriet and Sonya had confronted the group, which was fortunately all still alive. They had recognized Aris, who had been with them in the Maze.
After they had revealed themselves, Harriet turned towards the mountains and whistled, waving her arms.
"All clear, guys!" She shouted.
The snipers stood up from their hidden positions, waving down at the group.
Later, the group arrived, and met Vince, who was the leader of the Right Arm.
They were just talking, normal conversation from what I could tell. I looked over and saw Bits watching Aris from beside a tent.
The group wandered apart to explore. Newt, Thomas, and Minho were all wandering towards the forest.
Me and Charlie walked up to them.
I stopped, my arms crossed across my chest.
"Well, well, well. Look who actually survived the Scorch." I exclaimed.
They froze, then slowly turned around to face us.
When I made eye contact with Minho, I saw a spark of relief.
Newt smiled.
"Same to you. Not because you're girls or anything." He said quickly.
I noticed something a little off-kilter about him.
It reminded me of Gabe.
I remembered in the WICKED base, hearing Newt's name called on the list of non-immunes.
My heart ached when I thought of what Gabe had gone through, and knowing this boy would, if he wasn't already, go through the same thing.
I pitied his friends, too. Losing a loved-one to the Flare isn't fun.
Minho leaned back against a tree, eyeing me skeptically.
"So, where's that guardian angel of yours?" He asked cooly.
I glared at him so fiercely, he raised his hands in a consolentary gesture.
"Alright, I'm sorry I asked." He mumbled defensively.
The comment had ruined the moment for me, so I turned and stormed away.
I figured it'd be a good time to visit his grave, but a certain couple of idiots were between me and the forest, so I decided to go around the back way.
Once I had reached the clearing, I picked a daisy to place on top of the dirt.
The old one was just a limp stem and a couple brown petals.
I swiped it away, and laid the new one where it had been.
The earth beside it was grassy and clean, so I sat down and wrapped my arms across my legs.
A cool, gentle breeze blew through the forest, making the leaves rustle.
The leaves were still rustling even after the wind was gone. I turned around and saw a shadow leaning against a tree. My heart stopped as I saw a flash of blonde hair and brown eyes.
Then I blinked, and it was gone. In its place stood Newt.
I sighed, then turned back towards the grave.
Newt shuffled awkwardly, then came over to me. He looked down at the mound of dirt, and his eyes softened.
"Now I understand why you got so bloody mad at Minho."
I looked up at him.
"But he didn't know, so I guess it was my bad." I sighed.
Newt shrugged.
"You could say that, but Minho's a buggin' slinthead, so we can always blame things on him." He said drily.
The corners of my mouth lifted into a small smile.
"I guess you're right."
Newt nodded, then slowly sat down next to me.
"So, you never told me. How long were you in that Maze of yours?" He asked.
I squinted at the sky.
"Um, I was the fourth Greenie, so about two years."
His eyebrows raised in surprise.
"That's about how long I was there. What was your job?"
I looked at him, then shrugged.
"It's complicated."
"So tell me. It's not like I have anything to do." He sighed.
I looked back at the sky.
"So, I'm assuming you know what a Runner is. I became Keeper of the Runners after about two months. Then, I think it was about 18 months after that, the Doors closed before I made it back to the Glade." I began.
When I looked at Newt, he seemed thoughtful.
"So you survived the buggin' Maze before Tommy and Minho. What happened next?" He asked.
My eyes had wandered back to the daisy.
"I'm not sure. I blacked out right as the shucking walls closed. I had a bleeding wound from a Griever, mind you. Then I woke up, fresh clothes, clean hair, healed gash. There was a spear lying next to me, so I grabbed it and ran for the Glade."
Newt looked entranced in my story.
"Go on." He encouraged.
I nodded.
"Well, I'm not sure if this happened at your place, but the walls hadn't closed, and there were Grievers everywhere. I saw one had pinned….pinned Gabe, so I chucked the spear at it." My voice trembled on his name.
Newt looked at me.
"Do you know how long you were out?" He asked.
"Yes, about two months."
He looked at me, eyebrows raised.
"There's no way you could have just been lying there for two months."
I shrugged.
"There's no way for me to know what happened."
Newt glanced at the forest, then stood up.
"Okay, I'm gonna go see if I can find some food. See ya later." He said, walking off towards the camp.
I stood up too, and was about to follow him, when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye.
Thinking of the shadow I saw before, I turned, Gabe's name on the tip of my tongue.
The figure was already speeding through the forest, so I chased it.
Whoever it was, they were fast. Dodging roots, fallen tree trunks and rocks, I had a difficult time keeping up.
But, then the figure tried to leap over a root, but their foot caught on it, and they tumbled to the ground.
I leaped over the root, and pointed the knife I pulled from my sheath at them.
"Turn around slowly, and you won't be impaled." I hissed.
The person slowly turned around, and I was surprised to see it was Minho, who was looking very sheepish.
I rolled my eyes and sheathed my knife.
"I could have hurt you, slinthead. Now get up and tell me what you were doing." I sighed.
Despite sitting on the ground, scraped up from the fall, he still managed to smirk.
"Well, didn't know you cared that much."
I rolled my eyes again, then hauled him to his feet.
"You didn't answer the question."
He smiled.
"I didn't? Ask me again, and maybe this time I will."
I glared at him.
"Are you always this annoying? Or is it just me?"
He shrugged.
I was considering just walking away, but I still needed to know what he was doing. My knife was back in my hand and I held it up to his neck.
"Tell me what you were doing, and stop the games." I said firmly.
Minho flinched as the blade left a little droplet of blood under his chin.
"I wanted to know why you got so shucking mad at me before. So I…." He trailed off, his eyes betraying his guilt.
He looked at the knife and cleared his throat.
"I asked Newt if he could find out what I did wrong. But I followed him, and listened to you shank's whole conversation." He sat back, rubbing the little red smear on his neck.
I shrugged, then turned and walked away. I've wasted more than enough time on him.
He got up, and I heard him follow me.
I turned around to tell him to get lost, but he walked right up to me.
"So have you forgiven me?" He asked.
I glared at him.
"You never said you were sorry."
He smirked again.
"Do I need to?"
I put my hands on my hips.
"Yes." I snapped.
He glanced around, the smirk still plastered on his face.
"Alright then."
He grabbed my arm holding the knife, then he leaned forward and kissed me.