Maze girl

✧༺ 23. Newt ༻∞

The walls of the Maze loomed behind us, their towering shadows a reminder of the nightmare we were finally leaving behind. The sky was a dull gray, the air damp with the scent of rain. We had made it out. I could feel it in the wide-open space ahead—a stretch of barren, rocky land that looked like freedom and danger rolled into one.

Minho and Thomas led the way, their steps cautious but quick, while Rune stayed close to me, her fingers brushing against my arm every few moments as if to remind herself I was still there. The others followed in a tight pack, their faces pale and drawn, a mix of fear and hope flickering in their eyes.

“We’re really out,” Frypan murmured, his voice barely audible over the crunch of gravel beneath our feet.

“Don’t celebrate yet,” Alby muttered, his gaze darting toward the horizon. “We don’t know what’s waiting for us.”

I glanced back at the Maze one last time, the familiar sound of its shifting walls fading into silence. It felt wrong to turn my back on it after so long, but we had no choice. Whatever lay ahead had to be better than what we’d left behind.

Or so I thought.

We hadn’t made it more than a few hundred yards when a shout rang out.

“Stop right there!”

The voice was sharp, commanding, and came from ahead. My heart dropped as I spotted them—figures in dark uniforms, standing in a line just beyond the rocks. W.C.K.D workers.

“Bloody hell,” I muttered under my breath, my chest tightening.

Minho froze, raising a hand to halt the group. The workers stepped forward, their boots crunching on the gravel, their weapons gleaming in the dim light.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” one of them called, his voice cold and detached. “Turn around and come with us. Now.”

“No way in hell,” Minho snapped, his voice filled with defiance.

Rune clutched my arm, her grip tightening. “Newt, what do we do?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

I didn’t have an answer. My mind was racing, trying to come up with a plan, but there was no time. The workers were advancing, their movements deliberate, their weapons raised.

“I said, stop!” the leader shouted again, his tone growing harsher.

Thomas stepped forward, his hands raised in a placating gesture. “We don’t want trouble,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “We’re not going back in there.”

The worker’s expression didn’t change. “This isn’t up for discussion. You either come with us, or we make you.”

Alby stepped forward, his fists clenched. “We’re done listening to you lot. We’re not your damn experiments anymore!”

The worker’s gaze hardened, and he raised his weapon, aiming it toward the ground. “Last warning,” he said. “Come with us. Now.”

“No!” Minho shouted, his voice ringing out across the barren land.

And then it happened.

The sound of the gunshot was deafening, slicing through the tense silence like a blade.

I turned just in time to see Winston collapse, his body crumpling to the ground. Blood pooled beneath him, dark and terrible against the gray rocks.

“Winston!” Frypan screamed, dropping to his knees beside him.

A second shot followed almost immediately, and Clint fell, his body hitting the ground with a sickening thud.

For a moment, the world seemed to freeze. The air was thick with shock and fear, the only sounds the panicked breaths of the Gladers and the distant hum of the Maze behind us.

“No,” Rune whispered, her voice breaking. She was shaking, her hand clutching mine so tightly it hurt.

Minho’s face twisted with fury, but even he hesitated, his fists clenching and unclenching as he stared at the fallen bodies of our friends.

“You bastards!” Alby shouted, his voice raw with grief.

The workers didn’t flinch, their weapons still trained on us. “Next shot won’t be a warning,” the leader said, his tone icy. “Follow us. Now.”

My hands trembled as I looked around at the others, their faces pale and stricken. Frypan was sobbing quietly, his hands stained with Winston’s blood. Gally was seething, his teeth bared like a wild animal.

I glanced at Rune, her eyes wide with fear, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Newt,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. We couldn’t fight them—not like this. Not after what had just happened.

“Alright,” I said, my voice shaking but loud enough for the workers to hear. “We’ll come with you.”

Minho whipped around, his eyes blazing. “Newt—”

“We don’t have a choice,” I cut him off, my voice firm despite the fear coursing through me. “We can’t lose anyone else.”

Minho’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. The others began to move reluctantly, their heads bowed, their spirits shattered.

As we followed the workers, the weight of what had just happened settled over me like a suffocating blanket. We had escaped the Maze, only to walk straight into another nightmare.

And as I looked back at Winston and Clint, their lifeless bodies lying in the dirt, I realized that freedom had never felt so far away.

They pulled us into the trucks, and a gas was set free, causing all of us to lose consciousness. The last thing I see before I black out is Runes face — and the tears of fear on her face.