T R U S T [The Maze Runner || Newt || Book 2]

Chapter 16

Flashback

A year had passed since the group's adventure outside, and everything had changed. Clara was 17 now, she barely spoke, she never argued, Everything about her was different. Brenda and Jorge had disappeared, Wicked was tracking them down but they'd practically vanished off the face of the earth. Clara stopped talking to everyone, her mother, her teachers, even Thomas and Teresa – and they were acting the same, only talking to each other. 

Everyone was traumatized in some way from what had happened to them that night, although Clara refused to tell anyone what she'd done. Since then she hadn't spoken to Alby, Minho, or Newt, making sure to avoid working with them at all. She fulfilled her obligations, much to her mother's surprise, and ran all the tests on the subjects that she needed to. And they were getting close, scarily close, to beginning the Trials.

"I'm just going to draw some blood." She spoke bluntly to Newt, who was sitting on the hospital bed in front of her. A solemn look on his face, he lifted his arm towards her and she gently placed a syringe into his vein, pulling it back and collecting some of the boy's blood. It had been the first time she was assigned to him since that night, she made an effort to try and avoid them, always taking on other subjects instead of him, Alby, or Minho.

"I'm sorry, about what happened that night, Clara." He whispered, and she could hear the sincerity in his voice,

"Not your fault." She responded, emotionless, focusing on her syringe.

"It was, it was my fault. I shouldn't have suggested going outside." That time she didn't answer, pulling out the syringe and placing a plaster on his arm. Reaching behind her she grabbed a blood pressure machine, gesturing for him to lift his other arm so she could place the sleeve over it. Then came the awkward waiting, watching as the sleeve constricted and the machine did its job.

"What did..." He hesitated slightly and she finally looked at his face, meeting his eyes, "What did they do to you that night? When you collapsed? You were bloody screaming and everything."

"It's a pain stimulator."

"What?"

She sighed before she lifted up the side of her shirt, showing him the small scar that was just visible on the side of her chest. "A pain stimulator. When I do something they don't like, they press a little button or something and it sends a wave of pain through my nervous system." She finished, dropping her shirt back down.

"Bloody hell." He muttered and she couldn't stop herself from smiling slightly at his use of English curses.

"It's funny, you know? That you have an accent but your sister doesn't." She noted, trying to change the subject, but instantly regretting her words when she saw his face drop at the mention of his sister. "I- I'm sorry, I forgot..."

"It's alright. I remember when we arrived she was so desperate to fit in with all the other girls in her group that she started changing her accent. I just never gave a shit, I like my accent, don't care if I sound like the other bastards in here." He chuckled softly as the blood pressure machine began beeping. Clara slid the sleeve off his arm and put the machine away. She grabbed a swab kit out of another drawer and moved back to him. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to ask a question, but nothing came out.

"Newt?" She asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Lizzie, she- she's okay, right? You've seen her?"

"I don't work with the girls, Newt, I'm sorry. I'm sure she's alright though, I haven't heard any bad news about Group B." She said, smiling sadly in an attempt to reassure him. He nodded at her and looked down at his hands. She pulled a large Q-tip out of the swab kit and asked Newt to open his mouth, twisting the end of the Q-tip around it for a few seconds before taking it out and putting it in a small plastic tube to send to the lab. Newt was the only one required to take these weekly tests. Because he wasn't immune they needed to make sure he hadn't gotten the Flare.

"Alright, I'm all done here. You can head over to Dr. Clarkson for your treadmill test." She said, smiling politely at him. He stood up from the bed and began to move away as Clara started gathering the samples she'd taken from him. But before he left he turned and grabbed her arm, spinning her around to face him.

"Clara, listen to me. We're getting out of this place." He whispered, a serious look in his eyes

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Minho, Alby, and I, we never gave up, we have a plan. Minho has a friend, we have a way out of Wicked."

She opened her mouth to speak but shut it again, unsure of what she wanted to say,

"Look, we've been setting it up for weeks. Come to the maintenance room tomorrow night, we'll explain everything. You can come with us Clara, leave Wicked behind." He pleaded, his grip still tight on Clara's bicep. She looked him up and down and realized he wasn't joking, they had a plan. Slowly, she nodded her head and he let go of her arm, turning away from her and walking to his next test.

Hope filled her system as she watched him walk away, and it was the best feeling she'd had in a long time.