pretty eyes ~ newt

chapter 22: familiar faces

"i miss you more than anything"
francis forever, mitski
—

"This place would be heaven if we weren't running for our lives." Fry sighs, resting his chin on his palm absentmindedly. I stare out the window curiously, seeing that the endless sand dunes have given way to massive mountains of sheer rock, small clusters of bushes lining the winding road every now and then.

Newt nods his head in agreement as he peeks out at the landscape from beside me.

"We've come a long way from the glade, that's for sure," he replies simply, ruffling a hand through his messy hair.

My face is practically glued to the window as Jorge drives steadily through the breathtaking terrain, blue eyes wide with wonder as I take in the impressive sight of vast cliff-sides and picturesque mountains.

Being raised in a fucking lab and living inside of a carefully engineered environment for as long as I can remember, it's no exaggeration to say that I'm rendered completely speechless by the almost perfect-seeming landscape. It's a far cry from the small world that we had built within the confines of those four walls, and I honestly struggle to believe that a sight this beautiful could even exist.

It's clear to see that the others are just as amazed—except for Brenda and Jorge, obviously. I hear Aris suck in a quiet breath as he gazes out his own window, and even Minho is, for once, at a loss for words. I stifle a snicker as his mouth falls open slightly in awe.

"Hey, why's it so quiet back there?" Jorge narrows his eyes suspiciously, glancing in his rearview mirror.

"Don't worry Jorge. They're just starstruck by the mountains," Brenda laughs, tossing us an amused smirk. "Pretty, eh?"

"Pretty? It's bloody beautiful," Newt responds with raised eyebrows, glancing towards Brenda in disbelief. "Is the whole world like this?"

"Nah. Most of the world is scorched, actually—but there are a few places that still look like this, like how the Earth looked before the Flare," she explains. "Although, I heard the Safe Haven is supposed to be even better."

"How is that even possible...?" I mumble under my breath, a small grin spreading across my face. I can't fucking wait.

But the car slows to a stop the next moment, the engine sputtering off. I kick open the car door which swings open with a squeak, and we all clamber out of the truck. My braid whips around in the wind, and I tuck a few of the stray strands behind my ears to keep them out of my face. We all stretch out our sore legs in relief, Minho grumbling about how much colder it is.

I throw on the black, fluffy collared jacket that I had picked up, grateful for its protection against the biting wind. The weather here in the mountains is significantly different than in the desert, and we all bundle up a little more to accommodate the colder temperature.

Jorge slings a pack over his shoulder wearily, taking a few steps forward to where there seems to be a blockade of cars. He peers a little more closely at the blockade, before turning towards us with a sigh of disappointment.

"Well, I guess we're on foot," he calls out to us. We all nod in understanding, my brow furrowed in apprehension at the thought of trekking through the mountains for god knows how long.

"Are we just leaving Bertha here, then?" Brenda asks him, eyeing the car.

"We're gonna have to." Jorge lets out another long sigh, a frown on his face. "She's served us well."

Thomas shoots him a weird look at that, probably questioning his strange attachment to the truck, but we all follow behind Jorge as he leads the way through the pile of broken-down cars. A bird caws in the distance, almost seeming to mock us as we weave our way through the long blockade.