Whatever It Takes ↠ Newt [The Scorch Trials] ¹

NINE

CHAPTER NINE
The Loss of a Good Soul

          THE GROUP CONTINUED to walk silently, occasionally hearing the grunts of Frypan and Minho while they dragged Winston behind them.

Mae backhanded the sweat off her forehead and sighed. With every step she took towards the mountains, it just felt like they were getting further away. Almost as if they didn't want the group to reach them. She kicked the sand in front of her, letting out her frustrations.

No one had said anything to each other in over an hour, Thomas would occasionally glance back at the others to check up on them, but he never bothered speaking. Mae was glad, she wasn't sure if she could get a conversation going, let alone continue one in the state she was in. She was exhausted and dizzy, but she knew she couldn't stop.

She glanced behind her to see Minho and Frypan struggling with Winston. Mae bit her lip, wondering whether or not if she should take over in dragging the injured boy. The girl knew Minho didn't trust her, so she wasn't sure if he'd let his friend in the hands of a stranger. Mae couldn't blame him, after all they'd been through, trust was one of the things that seemed to let them down.

Mae finally gave in to her thoughts and went over to Minho and Frypan. She stood by Minho and shot him a surprisingly gentle smile which confused him. "Hey, want me to take over?"

Minho stared at her and Mae waited for his snap, telling her that he didn't need a rest but it never came. "You sure?"

Mae was taken back for a second but nodded, knowing he was probably too exhausted to decline the offer. "Yeah."

The boy then hauled to a stop and stepped aside, while Mae grabbed on to the wooden pole. Minho then held out his hands and the girl shot him a confused look. "Give me our bags and jackets slinthead."

"Nice gesture, rude tone." Mae commented and Minho sent her a sarcastic smile. The girl then held on to the pole with one hand as she shrugged off the two bags and jackets she was carrying. She then handed it to Minho who swung them over his shoulder.

He arched an eyebrow. "That wasn't too hard, was it?"

Mae was too tired think of an equally sarcastic remark to say back, so she merely rolled her eyes at the runner. Minho then walked in front of her, letting his arms rest lazily by his side.

"Guess, it's me and you now Fry–" Mae instantly cut herself once she turned her head. "Wow, Frypan, you've changed a lot since I last saw you a few seconds ago."

Newt chuckled, shaking his head in amusement as he held the other wooden pole instead of Frypan. "C'mon."

The two then began to drag Winston through the sand, Mae's hands tightening around the wood– so tight she could feel a pinching in her hands, but she ignored it.

A groan sounded behind Mae and she and Newt turned their heads down to the injured boy. "Hang in there Winston." The girl murmured.

"Just a couple days more." Newt mumbled.

Mae looked at Newt unsurely, she had no idea when they were getting out of the scorch, but she wished it was a couple of minutes rather than days. She sighed gently before her and Newt began to pull even harder, now approaching a small sand dune.