monachopsis - maze runner

chapter 36

Chapter 36
Brave New World

Taking Thomas’s blood while he slept made Florence feel like a hypocrite, but she had no other choice. She rocked gently with the sway of the ship as she worked, separating and extracting the white blood cells as Mary had taught her. Vince had packed them all onto the ship as soon as they arrived back at camp, forcing Florence to work at sea. She would have preferred the solid ground of the first aid hut to the drifting cargo hold, but it would have to do.

Thomas lay in the cot across from Newt’s, his gunshot wound being tended to by one of the other doctors - David, or Daniel, Florence couldn’t quite remember. He’d been a pediatric nurse before the solar flares swept through, but he was a fast learner under Mary’s instruction. He’d had to be.

Florence sat with her legs tucked beneath her as the cure worked its way into Newt’s system. His arm was stretched across her lap to give her easy access to his wrist - she was obsessively checking his pulse every few minutes. At some point Gally joined her, leaning against the wall at her back and setting a hand on her shoulder. She let her head fall to the side, pressing her cheek to his palm. It felt comfortable, safe. It was a feeling they’d have to get used to.

***

The Safe Haven was remarkable. Tents and huts rolled out across the white sand, creaking softly in the salt breeze. Florence had spent most of their first week drifting between Thomas and Newt’s bedsides and she treated each walk like a stroll through Eden. Thomas had spent that week in unconsciousness, but Florence and the other doctors monitored his vitals closely and none of them were concerned. 

Now she was curled in a chair beside Newt’s cot, listening to him talk animatedly about his plans for their garden. She could hear the soft chatter of the camp drifting through his open doorway and a memory of the Glade squeezed her heart.

“That little tube I gave you,” Newt mused, abandoning his train of thought about a strawberry patch. “Do you still have it?”

Florence nodded, pulling the cord from beneath the collar of her shirt. “I’m just happy I didn’t have to open it.” She slipped it over her head and cupped the vial in her palm, studying it. “What’s in here, anyway?”

“A goodbye.”

Florence reached for his hand, squeezing it. With the utmost sincerity in her eyes, she held up the vial and declared “I’m gonna burn this.” Newt wheezed a laugh, swatting her hand away. The laugh tapered into a cough, and though he assured her it was nothing, he took the cup of water she forced on him anyway.

There was a knock on the doorframe. “Hey,” Gally poked his head in. “Thomas is awake, I figured you’d wanna know.” Immediately, Newt shifted against his pillows and propped himself up on the wall. “I’ll bring him in,” Gally nodded, smiling softly at Florence as he ducked from the room.

“He was a wreck when he thought he lost you,” Florence said faintly, frowning at the image of Thomas that flashed through her mind. She wrapped the cord around Newt’s grim message-in-a-bottle and tucked it in her back pocket. She did fully intend to toss it into the bonfire scheduled for that night; the Gladers had gently harassed Vince toward the idea. “We all were.”

Newt opened his mouth to reply then went silent, his eyes falling on the doorway. His lips quirked into a smile and he leaned forward. “Tommy,” he breathed. Florence took that as her cue to leave. Her eyes flicked to Thomas’s torso as she moved past him, checking for the outline of a bandage across his abdomen. 

Thomas reached out and caught her wrist. He pulled her into a hug, catching her so off guard that it took a good few seconds for her to reciprocate. “Thank you,” he whispered into her shoulder. He sniffled quietly and leaned back, but held onto her arms for a moment longer like he needed her for balance.