When We're Older- The Maze Runner (Newt)

lightning

decided to update cause we're getting closer to my fav chapter.

Walking. That's what we did for hours and hours. We didn't talk, we didn't laugh, nobody even touched each other for comfort. All we did was walk at different paces, the heat cascading down our bodies like the warm showers we had taken a few days ago.

The water was starting to run out. We had no food. Nothing. Each of us were becoming more frustrated as the minutes ticked by, the mountains seeming to become further and further away from us the more we walked.

I couldn't even feel my legs anymore. Every part of my body was aching as we strode across the hard land, the sand having disappeared long ago. The beige color was even brought up into the air, the dust somewhat blurring our vision of the distant rocky hills. I had Newt's scarf tied around my neck and over my nose—he handed it to me about an hour ago when the dust started to become thicker.

My breathing hadn't been a problem today, only the ache in my legs. I couldn't imagine how Newt was feeling as he staggered behind me, staring at the ground and his slow steps. Feeling my heart sink at his demeanor, I slowed my steps down and walked beside him, earning a small smile to be thrown at me from the boy. I nodded towards him and lowered my chin to that I was now also staring at the cracked land, wondering how bad the sun flares must've been.

Thinking back to when we had solved the Maze and beaten the Grievers, the woman had said something about the sun scorching our world. Thomas had informed me that she was still alive, which made me think that she was some kind of weird witch or something. Maybe she brought herself back from the dead. But that would be crazy...it only showed how far the technology of the world had become while people were suffering. They didn't even use it to save lives. They used it to hurt them. Innocent kids. At the thought, my blood began to boil.

The rest of the day was the same. Walking, staying quiet...letting our thoughts eat at the holes in our chests. Mourning the death of Winston still. The only sounds that I heard was the crunching of the grains of sand beneath us, and the hardened rocks that Minho and I occasionally kicked in front of us to pass time. We didn't talk like we normally would, or laugh either. But instead, when he decided to kick it to the side, ending the game suddenly, I didn't say a word.

He reached for the water bottle in his backpack and unscrewed the cap, bringing it up to his lips. When nothing seemed to come out, he squinted and peered through the small hole in the top, bringing it up to his mouth again. He stared at the metal in amazement, a million thoughts probably running through his mind. With a frustrated grunt, he chucked the bottle into the air, disregarding it. I pursed my lips and stared at the boy as he ran a hand through his spiky-hair. clenching my jaw, I placed a hand on his back, patting his shoulder with the little amount of comfort I had in me. The boy turned his head toward me, and sighed, nodding.

When night began to fall and the sun set, Tommy suddenly stopped, dropping his bag on the hard floor.

"We can stop here for the night." He mumbled, zipping up his jacket as the others sighed in relief.

I made my way over to the boy, "Shouldn't we find somewhere with shelter? You know...not be out in the open?"

He let out a breath and looked around, "There's nowhere to go, Mae. Let's just stay here for the night and we can...figure something out in the morning."

I nodded, not in the mood to argue with him. Turning around, I saw that everyone was already starting to lay down, using their backpacks as pillows and jackets as blankets. I had to admit, the sun was brutal during the day, but during the night, I wanted nothing more than to be wrapped in a warm comforter.