The Heart of a Fighter

- 02

CHAPTER TWO

✧

⎯⎯IN WHICH THE STORM APPEARS  

・・・

Newt had always known that there was more than the Glade. More than the four large walls that encased it and separated them from the Maze with its twisting and turning paths that contained WICKEDS horrifying slug-like, spike-covered creatures named Grievers. Some awful things, created to kill.

And more than the life he and fifty boys lived for years before Thomas and Teresa came up in the Box and changed everything.

He never expected life outside to be a warm, dry, and empty desert without a single growth. The flat and cracked landscape filled with sand and dead grass wherever you looked. Nights unbelievable cold and the days only containing the harsh sunlight that scorched everything nearby. But given the situation, the next days would be spent here. And sadly, they were not situated in the perfect place for that.

This was far different from the Glade WICKED placed them in before they escaped it days ago.

Around him the sand hit their faces as the wind grew stronger. He pulled his scarf out and wrapped it around his face in a desperate attempt to shield his face from the sand and wind.

In front of them the edge let up to yet another sandbank and his before big hope decreased even more. The desert seemed like it would continue forever. Like the chance of getting out of the burning heat would never happen.

Behind him a black-haired boy named Minho, one of his closest friends threw his bottle in the sand as almost all their water now had dried out. "This shucking desert." He said bitterly as he held a jacket over his head. Shucking or Shuck is along with many other slangs they invented in the Glade the word he uses the most. A word used to bring attention to one's annoyance or frustration.

A few moments passed, trying to convince himself to focus on the invisible path in front of him and not let his thoughts wander to the days before, or to the once they lost. Chuck, Alby, Jeff, Winston, and many more. It still hurt to think about it.

They passed the sandbanks and quickly entered yet another cracked landscape. Not a single growth in sight.

The heat had decreased and was exchanged with the cold evening.
"Why don't we stop here and rest." Teresa broke the silence between them. "It's getting dark now. And we're all tired anyway." The black-haired girl suggested.

Even though Newt didn't think much of the girl who suddenly showed up in the Box only days after Thomas and soon after changed it all, forcing them to escape ending at WICKEDS compound where they were used as test subjects, he had to agree with her. After a long day in the desert with the scorching sun above he needed rest. 

"Storm! Storm! Storm!" 

Someone kept repeating the word over and over. Then a hand gripped his wrist. Newt yelled out in surprise and automatically tried to pull his arm free as he opened his eyes greeted by Thomas yelling the same word repeatedly. "Storm! Get up Newt!"

He released Newt's arm and scooted away. The sudden wind intensified. Almost all the Gladers sheets went flying, as their food flew away in different directions.

Newt got on his feet. Minho stood nearby, frantically waving his arm as he tried to get everyone's attention. Besides the harsh storm a big group of lightning had appeared further away, quickly moving towards them. They noticed and gathered around him. The Gladers were packed together around the Runner who pointed at the city.

The closest building was within reach. If they ran in a good pace, they would get there in about a half hour. Minho started running.

And the others followed. 

✧