Disconnection • Newt • Maze Runner

20 - Escape of Sorts

The blood rushing to Aspen's head was driving him mad. Why were they seriously still strung up by these stupid chains?

They'd been trying desperately to push off eachother and swing Teresa to the rope to get them down.

Tried and failed, many many times over.

They were so close, just a little further and Teresa could get them all down, which thankfully, she did. relief flooded Aspen's features, before a faint noise, a voice, sounded from outside. That voice, was Janson.

"Good evening. This is the World Catastrophe Killzone Department. We have your compound completely surrounded. You find yourselves, through no fault of your own, in possession of W.C.K.D. property. Return them to us unharmed, and we'll consider this a simple misunderstanding."

The Gladers hurriedly unchained themselves, rushing as Janson gave his little speech about murdering people, essentially. They frantically headed for the exit when a man walked in, cocking his gun and pointing it straight at them.

Thomas' chest heaved. "We're not trying to cause any trouble, okay? We just, we gotta get out of here."

"Is that so?" He pulled out a device. Shit. "Janson, I got 'em for ya. I'm bringing 'em down. Don't shoot us. Come one, let's go."

The group didn't move an inch.

"I said let's go."

Thomas swung and arm out, pointing the gun the other way as the man fired, and he pushed him back. The man got up though, all specks of remorse fleeting from his features. "You little bastard." Bang.

The man crumpled to the floor, Brenda standing behind him, gun in hand.

Newt grasped Aspen's wrist, as he felt warmth that shocked him, he glanced towards the boy, seeing the scarlet liquid bleeding through his shirt on his upper arm.

Aspen clutched the spot in agony as the group rushed to follow Brenda. Newt held Aspen close, holding the boy as tears escaped his green eyes and the blood ran down his arm, dripping onto the ground softly.

They were rushed towards a far side of the building as Jorge joined them. They opened up a door to what was seemingly a zip line. Aspen's breathing quickened.

"I can't go on that." If Jorge was wondering why, the blood coating the boys arm seemed to be indicator enough.

"You can just go on my back." Newt's voice came from behind as he kissed the boy atop his head, "It's gonna be okay."

Aspen wrapped his limbs around Newt's slender body as the boy ran out of the window, Aspen barely keeping his open until they reached the other side. He grunted and gasped as he stared down at his wound, the bullet stayed in his arm.

The pain was unimaginable. His brain began to fog up as he felt himself collapse into Newt's arms, not a thought behind his eyes as they rolled back.

Silence.

It's easiest to escape your thoughts when your unconscious. You can't be tormented by retched thoughts and fears when you can't think. Sadly, however, that wasn't the case for Aspen.

His head spun as he landed firmly on the concrete. He stumbled, standing up and glancing around. "No, no, no! NO!" He was back.

It couldn't be happening again, no. It wasn't real, he wasn't stuck in that stupid endless hallway, he wasn't gonna be chased by flesh eating Grievers, no. It couldn't be.

Was he sleeping? He was haunted by that memory all the time, haunted in his very own dreams, nightmares. It couldn't be happening again, he wasn't asleep, right?

Make it stop.

Make it stop.

Make it stop!

He gasped as he shot upwards, a reassuring hand resting itself on his leg as he lie in a bed, in an unknown, unfamiliar room.

"Hey, I'm glad your finally awake." The British accent was an instant comfort to the boy, as he took a deep breath, relief flushing his features. "Come on, let's go to the others."

They stood up, Newt wrapping his arm around the boys waist, holding him close before turning him to the side, bringing his lips to Aspen's.

It wasn't lust or sexual passion, it was something different, something better, that entangled into their kiss. Pulling away didn't leave Aspen frustrated, wanting more, it left him to cherish the kiss for what is was. He let a small smile graze his lips as they entered the room, Aspen's smile instantly fading and his brows furrowing.

Jorge was beating up some guy, a bit weird to wake up to but Aspen was cool with it, the guy probably deserved it.

"I'm sorry, you're going to have to leave my house." The man spoke through blood soaked and gritted teeth.

Newt eyed Thomas, who'd also just awoken. "Looks like you've been having fun."

Jorge continued. "Listen, I don't enjoy hurting you. Okay? Where is the Right Arm, Marcus?"

"Wait this is Marcus?" Thomas' head tilted in confusion.

"The kid catches on quick. Are you the brains of the operation?" Jorge shoved the man's head back, holding him by what little hair he had left.

"I know you know where they're hiding. So you tell me, and I'll make you a deal. You can come with us."

The man laughed oddly. "I burned that bridge a long time ago Besides, I made my own deal. You're the one who taught me, never miss an opportunity."

"What's he talking about?" Aspen glanced at the British boy, clutching his hand firmly but comfortably.

"I'm talking about supply and demand. W.C.K.D. wants all the immunes they can get. I help provide that for them. So I lure the kids in, they get drunk, they have a good time. And then, later, W.C.K.D. comes in, they separate the what from the chaff."

Aspen dropped Newt's hand, standing up and inching towards the man. "So, what, you've just been luring kids to their deaths? To be tortured and inevitably die?" He swung, nearly knocking out the already badly beat up man. "Go fuck yourself."

Returning to his seat, Newt glanced down at the boys arm. He'd used his right arm for the punch, his left still injured, though the bullet had been removed, Brenda took care of that nicely.

"I changed my mind, hermano. I do enjoy hurting you." Jorge kicked the chair over, pulling out his gun. Aspen let a smirk graze his lips.

Marcus continued to laugh, an awful and annoying sound, before gagging as Jorge practically sat on him and placed the gun in his mouth. "Talk!"

"Okay! Jesus! But i'm not making any promises. These guys like to move around. They have an outpost in the mountains. But it's a long way away. You got half of W.C.K.D. on your ass, you're never gonna make it."

"Not on foot. Where's Bertha."

"Not Bertha."

Yes, Bertha.