A Multifandom Collection of Short Stories

2: A Maze Runner One-Shot

Based on Chapters 39-42 of The Scorch Trials

"There's only about a mile left," Minho said. "These Cranks aren't so hard to fight after all. So let's--"

"Hey!"

The shout came from behind us, loud and screechy, filled with more than a hint of lunacy. I turned around to see a blond Crank standing down on the stairs, by an open door, his arm extended. His white-knuckled fingers held a gun, surprisingly steady and calm. It was pointed directly at Thomas.

Before anyone could move, he fired, an explosion that rocked the narrow alley with a thunderous boom.

Red spurts came from Thomas's shoulder.

The impact knocked Thomas back, spinning him around so that he fell flat on his face, smacking his nose on the ground. I screamed. The gun fired again, narrowly missing Minho. Minho ran at him, grunted and punched the blond man. He dropped the gun, and it clacked across the cement. Thomas rolled onto his back, hand clasped to where he'd been shot. He looked at the wound, then nearly looked like he was going to throw up. Minho continued to punch the living crap out of the man who shot Thomas. Newt and I ran to Thomas's side. Newt looked worried.

"He shot me," Thomas said.

I held Thomas's hand that isn't over his wound.

"I know," I said. Minho, finished with Blondie, pulled his shirt over his head and handed it to Newt. Minho wrapped his bare arm around me. Newt pressed Minho's shirt tightly against Thomas's wound. Thomas cried out and squeezed my hand. A few tears trickled down my face.

"I can get that sucker out of him," Jorge said. "But I'll need a fire."

"We can't do this here," Newt said. He was looking down at Thomas intently. I knew Newt cared for him deeply.

"Let's get out of this shuck city," Minho said. He squeezed my shoulders, planting a kiss on my cheek.

"You need to put a shirt on. You'll bake alive, Min," I say.

"I'll be okay."

"Minho listen-."

"I'll be fine."

"No! I don't want to risk losing you and Thomas. Put it on." I shove my too-big shirt at him. He puts it on.

"What are you going to do?" He asks, noting the fact that I am unshamefully shanding there in my bra. I pull a leather jacket out of my backpack, putting it on and zipping it up.

"All right. Help me carry him," Jorge said. Newt, Minho, Jorge, and a few other guys gripped Thomas's legs and under his arms.

"On the count of three," Minho said. "One...two...three." They hoisted Thomas up and he passed out. We went on for quite a bit. I had been by their side the entire time, waiting for my assistance to be needed. We were almost out of the city, when I noticed Thomas stir. He tried to open his eyes, but couldn't with the blazing sunlight. It wasn't long until he passed out again.

Twilight was setting in. Minho and I sat together next to Thomas. A fire crackled merrily. Jorge was sitting by it, holding a knife to the flames.