Newt jolted awake to the sound of breaking glass, sitting up in bed. It took him a second to remember where he was, the noise making his mind flash back to the nights crowded in the Homestead. But there were no Grievers. There was no Maze, not anymore. His chest slowed its rapid breathing to a decent point, throwing off the blanket and standing up. Most of the other boys had heard the commotion and had gotten up as well. It soon developed into horrified cries of confusion, boys transfixed on something outside. Newt walked over to look as a hand went down on his shoulder. He jumped, whipping around to find Minho had gotten up as well.

"What's going on?" he asked the blonde.

"I don't know. It's coming from the window." Newt jerked his head towards the window, where strangled screaming had begun to erupt from the other side. He and Minho pushed past boys who were pacing or staring in shock. The sight that met them made Newt's skin crawl. It was a person, or what was left of one. He was screaming at the Gladers inside, bloody and mangled hands gripping the bars protecting them from the outside. Half of his face was missing skin, and his eyes were wide and crazed.

"I'm a Crank! I'm a bloody Crank!" He shouted over and over again. Newt looked away in an attempt to forget the gore he was seeing, but his brain had already seared the image in. He drew his eyes around the room, and besides a few Gladers who were wandering around to each window, there was no one in sight. No sign of the people who had taken them there. No one to tell them it was going to be okay. Aside from the shock, Newt couldn't help but feel angry. Angry that they had less than 24 hours of safety before it was ripped away again. In the midst of his clouded thoughts and swirling emotions, one name struggled to the surface of his mind.

Clara.

"Clara." Newt repeated out loud, slowly realizing that he had no idea where she was, if she was safe. He quickly looked around for the exit, a green door to his right a few feet away. Newt remembered that it led to the room where they had eaten dinner the night before. He walked up to it, tried to open the door, and felt his fear grow when he realized it was locked. Minho had come up behind him as he continued to struggle with the handle, his efforts getting slightly more frantic. Thomas, who had finally woken up, joined them.

"Locked." Newt said, his voice coming out shakier than he'd intended.

"Really, genius?" Minho replied in his usual sarcastic tone. Newt shot an angry look at him that was serious enough for Minho's expression to falter.

"Let's break this bloody handle." Newt muttered, looking around the room for something that could do the job. He could feel that his eyes were wide as he tried not to panic but he couldn't help it.

"I wish those shuck… Cranks would shut up!" Minho exclaimed angrily, looking at the bloody mess of a woman wailing at them outside the nearest window.

"Cranks?" Newt heard Frypan's voice through the chaos.

"That's what they keep calling themselves. Haven't you heard it?"

Newt could feel his urgency to find Clara rising every second they spoke until he finally snapped. "I don't care if you call 'em pussy willows. Find me something to break through this stupid door!"

A slender boy handed Newt a fire extinguisher he'd found and he took it gratefully, his face burning in anger and desperation. He lifted the metal object and slammed it onto the handle, the action emitting a sharp crack through the room. He did it a couple more times until the handle broke off, sending the door swinging out, revealing darkness behind it. The small group of boys watching stood in silence, almost anticipating something to jump out at them. But there was nothing. Newt was lost in thought as Minho and Frypan argued about whether they should go inside. He just wanted to find Clara, maybe then everything would start to make a little more sense. He pushed the door fully open and went inside without hesitation.

It was completely pitch black, and the light from the dormitory didn't do much to aid them. Newt shuffled forward, his hands outstretched, trying to remember where he'd seen the light switches the night before. He grunted as he bumped into a table, warning the others as he continued on. He heard the sounds of Gladers running into things and letting out disgusted sounds. The room oddly smelled awful. Newt finally touched the wall on the other side and he ran his hands down it until he felt a group of light switches.

"Found it!" he shouted, flipping the switches. He turned around to face the Gladers, and his small victory withered away at the sight of a multitude of bodies hanging from the ceiling.

Newt stood still, his body frozen in shock, his eyes searching each face, praying that Clara wasn't among them. Thankfully, she wasn't, but he recognized them as the people who'd rescued them. He swallowed hard as Thomas and Minho joined him by the light switches, wearing the same look of terror and disgust. Newt snapped out of his stupor, his eyes looking around the room once more for some kind of entry to other rooms, one where Clara could be. His gaze landed on a yellow door that ended up being Teresa's room. While the rest of the Gladers figured out how to get into her room, Newt searched for another door, Minho eventually joining him.

Clara's eyes shot open at the sound of a sudden bang outside her door. Her mind instantly went to danger and she scrambled off of the bed, much to her tired body's dismay. She frantically looked for something to use as another bang sounded on the other side of the door. Clara pressed herself against the wall, clutching a hairbrush that she would not hesitate to use. Another bang, and she could hear the door handle clattering to the ground. She braced to defend herself as the door swung open, lifting her hairbrush in the air, her chest heaving. To her surprise, Newt and Minho burst through, Newt holding a beat-up fire extinguisher, their faces twisted in fear. Newt's eyes met Clara's and he instantly relaxed, dropping the fire extinguisher and letting it clang on the ground.

"Newt, why did you guys break the door down like that? What's going on?" Clara asked, exasperated, tossing the hairbrush to the side. Newt and Minho looked back at her with a puzzled expression.

"Did you not… have you not heard anything that's going on out here?" Minho asked her. Clara shook her head. She could tell by the looks of the two boys that something was very wrong.

"No… what? What's happening? Is everyone okay?" Clara stepped forward, her face etched with worry. The two didn't move, unsure of how to answer. Newt walked over to her, trying to break the news to her as gently as he could, which was near impossible given the situation. He took her hands in his, silently feeling more relieved at the touch.

"We're not sure what's going on. But someone… killed the people that brought us here. We're trying to figure out what to do." Newt watched as Clara's expression turned from confusion to frustration.

"You're kidding."

"I wish I was, love." Newt replied. He kept one of her hands in his and tugged her towards the door. "Fair warning, it's not the prettiest sight out there."

"Doesn't smell pretty either." Minho muttered bitterly, leaving the doorway first.