TST: Searching In The Scorch :Sequel to The Maze In Her Heart: ✔ (UNDER EDITING)

*Chapter Fifteen* Stale, Dusty, and ready to go

**LOGAN'S POV**

        Really? Are we just going to act like nothing happened after a devil of a child just warned us about some kind of danger and ordered a metal ball to maul off Winton's face? Really? Are we just going to trudge up these blood soaked stairs, and gasp for breath, each rattling breath sending a blast of broiling hot air into our lungs? I can't even look upwards without getting blinded partially, much less try to climb these stairs without bumping into Lamar's butt.

        I'm complaining too much. I might as well introduce myself. I'm Logan. I'm only fifteen years old, and now since our buddy Chuck died, I'm the youngest. Nobody notices me. I just sit in the back of the group and let the others do the thinking. But now Lamar's helped me find my voice, and I can't stop talking. I can sense George tense up next to me.

        I turn and face the boy. He's shivering slightly, despite the light. His face is a little pale, and his green marbles for eyes start to roll up to his head. "George?" I whisper, and he snaps out of his phase. His mouth scrambles to find his signature smirk. "The heat.." he says, and without hesitation, Lamar is down here, next to George, removing his blanket.

        "Lamar? What the bloody hell are you doing? It's SCORCHING out there. Quite literally." Newt says, causing the Gladers to look at him. He just keeps untying his blankets. The twins, who are sitting across from me, tense up as well. Marie's shoulders squeeze together, and Minnie frowns.

        Now I smile. Minnie is possibly the prettiest one here, and while Minho's made it pretty sure that Minnie is his, a boy can't help but smile. Marie, she's a little out of my league, but Minnie shows the bruteness and spite of a girl, blowing stereotypes out of the water.

        Minnie catches my eye and frowns. Lamar bounds back up the stairs. "Well, here we go." And without another word, he steps out into the light. I can make out his form faintly. My vision dances.

        Then, suddenly, his form collapses, flopping like a fish. All at once, all the Galder's hit the stairs, running upwards to Lamar's fallen form. Then I realize why he fell. He's not dead. He's gasping for breath.

        I collapse as well, my hands grinding into the gritty floor. All the air from my lungs goes pop, and I can't breathe. My eyes water up and I scream in pain, for each effort of breathing only results in stale dusty air, that burns my lungs as I try to crawl my way forward.

        BREATH.. BREath.. breath.. My vision darkens, and I can see other Glader's fall as well, gasping. A form is on the floor twitching. My hands shake as air start to fill my lungs again, but it's not the air I used to know. it's unwelcoming, pushing its way forward with some kind of authority.

        if ya wish to come across the scorch, buddy, ya gotta breath our air, got me? good that?'

        I let out a dry scream, particles of dust and sand blowing from my mouth. My chest rises and heaves in quick, jerky motions. A pair of hands hooks under my shoulders, jerking me up. It's Thomas. I try to walk but I stumble into him. I can see from my blurry visions some other Gladers are trying to gain balance as well.

        Finally, after blinking rapidly and leaning into Thomas, who looks ready to murder somebody, I stand up straight and take deep, rattling breaths. I didn't even notice what was wrong until I heard a scream. Another scream. Did the metal things follow us out here?

        No. They didn't But some Glader is having a horrible reaction to the air. He keeps breathing rapidly, tears steaming down his cheeks, his eyes are wide open in surprise and fear. His mouth moves but nothing comes out. I recognize him as another boy in our group, a boy named Leo.

        Finally, after multiple trials of getting him to breath again, it works, and he doubles over, gagging at the ground. Another boy rushes up, wearing large glasses. He has shaggy hair that's short in the back, then kicks up, covering his eyes. Leo chokes out something and the other boy laughs, giving him a knuckle sandwich. The bromance is totally casual. The boy looks up from Leo, realizing he has an audience.

        "Is he OK?" Sammantha asks, and the boy nods. "He said he couldn't breath for a minute, and he was freaking out. But we saved him."

        "Glad we could help Teddy."

        Teddy.

        He looks like a teddy. Not that's he's fluffy or anything, he's quite thin, but his cheeks always seem to be streaked with blush, like it was painted on, and he's always smiling and playful. His hands and feet are kinda big, but that's it. Match the boy up with a tie and button nose, and he would be a teddy.

        Leo is the opposite. He's tanned and taller, with darker hair that's curlier than Lamar's but not as short. He's draped in a blanket that covers his gangly legs, leaving his curly head exposed.

        Now it's time to access our surroundings. And what I see takes my breath away. The land before us is scorched and stretching out, a single, lonely town that looks about 50 miles away. the land beyond that is unidentifiable, only a lone mountain stretched against the pale yellow and orange sky. Is our goal that town?

        As if spurred by this, Minho jumps to the front of the group, then turns to face us. "Okay, we're gonna head to that shucking town. Any questions? We'll figure out what we're gonna do when we cross that bridge."        

        It's silent. Minho smirks. "All right, Gladers, move your butts, try to contain your energy, we'll be moving quicker at night, tomorrow morning is the resting time. We have three weeks." Minho says, holding up four fingers. Newt coughs. Minho places one finger down and nods in the direction of the cough,

        "So what are we waiting for? Let's go!"