Ragged breaths escaped Madylin as she half-stumbled, half-dragged herself up the sandy incline. Grit peppered her face, finding its way beneath the edge of her cast, itching and burning against the tender skin. She blinked furiously, but each time her eyelids lifted, more sand assaulted her vision.
Their feet sank into the sand with every step, an uphill battle against the dunes that shifted beneath them like the very ground had intentions of its own. Madylin felt her muscles scream in protest, each movement an act of sheer willpower.
Newt trudged beside her, his tall frame hunched against the onslaught. With each labored step, his limp grew more pronounced, the uneven terrain of the Scorch conspiring against him. Madylin saw him wince as he put weight on his bad leg.
"Newt, let me—" she started, reaching out to steady him.
He shook his head, "Save your strength, love." He said, his accent cut through the wind's howl. "We'll need it when we're out of this bloody mess."
Madylin bit back a retort, knowing the stubborn set of Newt's jaw meant the argument was futile. Instead, she focused on the path ahead, each step a small victory against the sand.
"Can't see a shucking thing," Minho complained from her other side, his dark eyes squinting against the relentless grains.
"Get low," Thomas's voice cut through the haze. They ducked down behind the other side of the dune, taking the time to catch their breaths. Madylin felt the familiar ache in her lungs, another reminder of the physical toll this journey was taking.
Distantly, the growling of engines cut through the loud whistles of the winds. Trucks, four-wheelers—WICKED. They were getting close, determined to find their group. Madylin subconsciously reached for Newt's hand for comfort, their fingers happily intertwining and Newt running his thumb on the top of her hand. The contact was a small reassurance, a silent reminder that they were in this together. With a quick shout from Thomas, they proceeded quickly down the hill.
Teresa ran in front of everyone else, her figure barely able to be seen in the sandstorm. Thomas called for her to wait for them but didn't listen. When they got closer to where she had run off, Madylin realized why.
