Him || The Scorch Trials

Thirty Two

As they drew closer to the building, they began to see it more clearly. It was shabby, made of dry wood that looked as if it had been standing for thousands of years, about to collapse at any second. Still, it stood up proudly, showcasing its age like a fine wine.

The group sped up as they got closer, eager to investigate the hut and get Thomas to shelter. Mara could only assume that the place was empty, but they had to check, just in case. Maybe a stray Crank had wondered beyond the city.

When they had finally reached the shelter, the Sun had begun to set; it was probably late afternoon by that time. Close up, the building looked extremely fragile, on its last legs. In the background- quite a few miles away- the mountains looked jagged and rocky, sloping up higher than Mara had first thought they did. They looked evil, and Mara wasn't exactly excited to climb them.

Jorge was the first to check inside the shelter, and when he turned around and announced loudly that it was empty, there was a small cheer from the small, tired group. At least they had somewhere to stay.

Minho made his way inside after Jorge and a couple of others, followed by Mara and Newt. It was conveniently big enough to fit every Glader, Jorge and Brenda- a complete stroke of luck that had come at the exact right moment. It wasn't the nicest of places, but it was enough for them.

Minho lay Thomas on the dusty floor with care, then took a deep breath. "Man, that shank is heavy." He heaved, brushing himself off.

"We can use some of this wood to build a fire." Mara stated, her mind set on saving Thomas. Before waiting for anyone to agree, Mara began to pick up spare bits of wood, anything she could use to help build a fire.

"Sure," Minho agreed, regaining his breath slowly. "As long as you don't bring the shuck thing down."

A couple of other Gladers helped out, carefully removing bits of wood from the shelter to use. Minho took Thomas' body outside of the shack on Jorge's order; they couldn't light the fire inside the shelter, the whole thing would've gone up in flames. So instead, they had to get Thomas outside in order to get the bullet out of his flesh.

Once they had gathered up enough wood, they piled it up outside the shack, making sure to build it far away enough so that the flames wouldn't reach the shelter. Frypan was the one to start the fire, and the Gladers who had helped gather the wood sat around him, with Thomas nearby.

The darkness was soothing, much more relaxing than the hard-hitting sun, but a feeling of anxiety for Thomas still sat firmly in Mara's gut. She chose to sit beside Newt and Minho, with Thomas laid on the other side of the fire. Jorge sat near him, holding one of his knives in the fire, preparing to get the bullet out of Thomas' body.

"You better hold him down. Legs and arms." Jorge spoke up, looking up at the group of Gladers. Minho, Clint and Newt rose from their positions, each taking hold of Thomas in different places, pinning him to the ground. Mara stayed where she was, not enthused about watching what was about to happen.

Jorge held up the knife, looking at it intensely. "This is gonna hurt somethin' awful."

Mara watched as Thomas writhed and squirmed for a moment, but he soon fell limp. He didn't scream- he had been knocked unconscious extremely quickly. Silver drew red, fishing for the cause of pain, but all Mara could do was stare at the floor, trying to pretend that it wasn't happening.

She stood after a moment and walked away, a queasy feeling spreading through her at the thought of watching Jorge dig through Thomas' arm. Quietly, Mara made her way back to the shack, hoping that it would be empty of people.

Just as she touched the door it swung open, making Mara jump back in shock. It was the boy from earlier that greeted her, the one that had saved her from the Cranks. He stood broadly, smiling at Mara with humour, his olive eyes kind and inviting. He was now wearing a new shirt, replacing the bloody one he had given to Thomas.

He embodied every feeling of happiness Mara could imagine, which seemed bizarre given their situation.

"Sorry for that," He laughed, moving through the door to stand next to Mara. His voice was soft, yet somehow tough at the same time. "Didn't mean to scare ya."

"It's okay." Mara smiled lightly. "Thank you for earlier, by the way. For helping me out-"

"Don't mention it." The boy interrupted, waving the thanks away with his hand. "Best for all us shanks to look out for each other, right?"

Mara nodded. He was right. she could only trust the Gladers, they were all she had. If she lost any of them... if she lost Thomas...

"Right." She nodded again, pushing her thoughts from her mind. "If you need anything, feel free to ask."

"Gotcha. You too." The boy grinned again and then nimbly slipped past Mara and began his trek towards the fire. However, before Mara had even moved, he had raised his voice once more. "Actually, can I ask you something? You don't have to answer if you don't wanna, I'd get that."

Mara paused nervously. What did he have to ask that she might not want to answer? "Go ahead."

"What happened to you?" The boy lowered his voice and walked towards Mara, closing the space between them. He looked around, Mara assumed to check whether or not any of the Gladers were listening to their conversation "How are you alive right now? We all watched you die, and now you're here."

A lump rose in Mara's throat and she inhaled heavily. No one had ever asked her that before, not even herself, really. Why was she alive? How? There was no way she could have survived shooting herself in the head, and she had no wound. No mark or scar. Nothing.

"I-" Mara tried to answer him, but she couldn't. What would she even say? How could she answer a question she herself didn't know the answer to?

"You don't have to tell-"

"No, it's not that." Mara interrupted, not wanting the boy to feel guilty for asking her. If anything, she was glad he had asked; it had made her realise how badly she wanted to know the answer. "I can't tell you, because I don't know. I have no idea."

"Oh," The boy seemed surprised, as if maybe he had expected Mara to know the answer. "I guess WICKED just doesn't like giving us straight answers. Thanks for being honest, though. I'll leave you get some rest now."

The boy turned away without a trace of awkwardness, once again beginning to walk towards the group of Gladers surrounding Thomas and the fire.

"Hey, wait." Mara called out. "What's your name?"

"Jackson." He replied, grinning before he raced towards the fire and sat beside Aris and Ed.

Mara watched the Gladers for a few minutes, seeing the relaxation in their body from rest, yet still sensing tension. Thomas still lay there, unconscious with a blood blanket soothing his arm. Jorge seemed to be sitting back now, so Mara could only assume that he had gotten the bullet out of Thomas' flesh.

Not long after, she retreated into the shack, which was empty of Gladers. Mara chose to settle in the corner of the room, picking out one of the spare sheets they had carried through the Scorch and curling up with it wrapped around her body.

Why was she alive? Had WICKED just used her 'death' to scare the other Gladers? To scare her? Had she just been used as their play thing, in their stupid, little game?

She didn't want to be their pawn anymore. She didn't want any of them to be pawns anymore. She just wanted the truth, and to be free from their grasp.

Mara pushed her thoughts away. She needed sleep. She needed to rest, get enough energy for the next day. She was determined more than anything to get through the Scorch, get through whatever WICKED had to offer, and then finally be free. That's all she wanted, and she was ready to pursue it.