Finality | The Maze Runner / Newt ³ ✓

{1.2}

Disclaimer:

Minho: There's only one thing worse than dying.

Minho: *Rips off card so it says "Thomas dying"* Boom.

Gally: *Gasps* Thomas

Minho: No

-✼-

The ride wasn't as bumpy as I thought it was going to be. With the blindfolds, raggedy van, and people with guns, my brain automatically prepared me for a treacherous journey, but it was actually unbearably smooth. Only the fact that my shoulders were tightly sandwiched between Thomas and Garret made me uncomfortable.

The van pulled to a stop, and the gulp Garret swallowed was audible to me. I tried to slow my racing heartbeat and steady my breathing during the seemingly agonizing three seconds it took for someone to open the side door.

One of the members in our group must have reached for their hood, because the leader's voice snapped, "Don't you dare take those off until we tell you too. Now get out, nice and slow. Do us a favor and keep yourselves alive."

"You sure are a tough shank," Minho taunted dryly from what sounded like the end of our row. "Easy to do when you've got six people with guns. Why don't you–"

He was cut off by the sickening sound of a punch and a pained grunt. My heart climbed into my throat as Garret's shoulder roughly bumped into mine at the force of the man hitting Minho. It caused me to slam into Thomas' arm as well, making a sharp burst of pain blossom in my arm as it rammed into his elbow.

Just as suddenly, Thomas was gone. I barely had a second to breathe before I was roughly grabbed by my collar and yanked out of the vehicle with a cry of surprise. My feet struggled to get themselves beneath me, but the person pulled me along without waiting for me to balance myself. I felt like a dog being cruelly dragged by a leash.

After what happened to Minho, none of us dared to speak as we were guided by the mysterious people. My other senses seemed to be heightened now that my eyes were blocked. I felt my skin prickle as the temperature dropped slightly and we were led down a flight of stairs, the coolness like a blessing compared to the humidity outside. The floor was made of concrete- that much I could guess because of how hard my steps were. Next came a seemingly endless hallway, which ended with the swipe of a key card. A lock clicked. A door opened. What was once silence was replaced by indistinct murmurs from inside the room.

The person shoved me inside with enough force to knock me off my feet. I went sprawling to the ground, and with no sense of knowing when I'd hit the floor, the stinging sensation that stung my palms as they abruptly stopped my fall was enough to make me hiss in pain.

Someone grabbed my arm and hauled me to a standing position, yanking off my hood in the process. I was met with dull lighting that seemed impossibly bright in comparison to the pure darkness the hood had provided. Thomas' face was staring down at me in concern, his hand gripping my left biceps.

I silently nodded to show I was okay before turning to the rest of the room. Most of the people in the spacious area were sitting on the floor, meaning they had a full view of us near the door. A mere dozen of them stared at us. Their faces had varying amounts of dirt on them, but almost everyone had obvious signs of a struggle, whether they sported cuts or bruises or both.