The Other Side - A Newt Fanfiction

Chapter Twenty: How Rose Took His Nose

{WARNING: The following content contains graphic gore and violent descriptions. Proceed at your own risk.}

Our group follows behind Gally as he leads us through the facility, and I can feel people from the levels above us watching our group curiously. It doesn't help that I'm hobbling about with one boot, either.
"After the Maze, a group different from the one that took you guys had found me. When they realized that I was Immune, they patched me up and brought me here. Lawrence has been building up a resistance group while WICKED has completely locked the rest of the world out of their city, and he is determined on changing that. Although WICKED claims to be thinking for the benefit of the ill, they've only been leaving the Infected out here to die. His only goal is to take down WICKED." He explains as we turn the corner and make our way along some wired fencing that blocks off a drop to the level below. "He doesn't get many visitors, so just... Let me do all of the talking, alright?" Gally says, halting to turn towards us. "And don't stare." He adds, giving us a long, stern look before walking to the stairs at the other end of the room.
Stare?
Furrowing my brows together, I look to Fry in concern before we all follow Gally to the steel staircase, quietly walking behind him.
"Rose took my nose, I suppose, which really blows... Rose took my nose, I suppose..." An eerie voice mutters.
I look down to see a figure examining an abundance of roses in the bushes surrounding him, rays of pale light streaming in from the ceiling.
"Gally," the man's voice calls from below as we make our way to the bottom of the flight, "who have you brought to me? You know I don't like visitors."
The man's voice alone makes the hairs rise on the back of my neck.
"These are some friends of mine, Lawrence." Gally explains as we stop in a group just a few yards away. I can't help but examine our surroundings.
What a strange place to grow rosebushes? In a room full of weaponry and books and shelves stacked with supplies.
"They are trying to get into the city."
"And why exactly do they want that?" The man purrs, gently lifting a rose to his face. I furrow my brows and tilt my head to the side as I examine the silhouette of the man. Something definitely is off about him.
"We're trying to break into WICKED. Gally said you could get us into the city." Thomas says, stepping forward.
Gally said to let him do all of the talking, and Thomas can't even do that?
The man, who seems to be attached to a medical IV, the bag at the end full of a bright blue liquid, stands taller, turning his head towards us. "Gally should know better than to make promises he cannot keep."
Frowning, Gally shifts his eyes from Thomas to Lawrence.
"Besides, those walls are the least of your problems. Breaking into WICKED?" Lawrence says. "What you desire, boy, is impossible."
"It was impossible before, but now it may not be impossible. We have Thomas, and we needed him in order to get inside." Gally says, nodding towards the brunette boy.
Thomas gives Gally a look that seems somewhat taken aback, but he immediately shakes it off.
"Oh, really?" The eerie man chuckes softly. "So... Tell me, Thomas..." He mumbles as he grasps the metal stand that the liquid bag hangs from, slowly walking towards us and stepping into the light.
My heart nearly leaps out of my chest at the gruesome sight: a Crank that is quite far along, the dark veins bulging out of his neck and the side of his face, infected crevices and spots all over; however, the worst of it all is that his nose is completely gone, as if a Crank had bit it off. That IV must have the Bliss inside, and, by the sight of it, it is definitely running low.
Newt protectively steps in front of me, staring at Lawrence in horror.
"Do you know what I am, boy?" Lawrence asks in a raspy voice, stepping closer and closer to Thomas, his face now just inches from the brunette boy's. "I'm a business man..." He smirks. "Why should I help you? How would you benefit me?"
Thomas doesn't budge, holding his ground. "I can get you exactly what you need."
The Crank scoffs. "And what is that, exactly? What is it that you think I need?"
"Time." Thomas mumbles, shifting his eyes to the bag of liquid. "As many drops as you can get."
Lawrence smirks. "Oh, really?" He chuckles, shaking his head subtly in an irritated manner.
"You and I both want to take WICKED down. If you help us, I can give you exactly that."
The Crank looks Thomas up and down as he steps back, and an eerie smile stretches across his face. "Alright." He says simply.
I feel a wave of relief wash over me, so much so that I do not hold back the long sigh that follows.
However, an unsettling smirk tugs on Lawrence's lips. "For now, you can only take two with you. The rest stay here."
Newt and I immediately look to each other in a panic.
"It's just to make sure you come back here. Insurance." Lawrence smirks. "Do we have a deal?" He asks, offering Thomas his rotting hand, strange, bulging veins branching off of his fingers.
Looking back at us for a mere moment, Thomas gives displays an unreadable expression, and averts his eyes back to the Crank before he grasps Lawrence's hand, shaking it to seal the deal.
"Gally," the leader says, "show your friends the way out."
• • •
Sighing tiredly, I toss Jorge his own gloves before sliding off my jacket and tossing it on a chair in the corner, adjusting my baggy t-shirt as I turn to the others, sliding off my single boot and setting it beside the chair, now standing in simply my worn-down socks.
Gally tosses Newt a spare, maroon coat. "Here you go, shank."
Nodding in thanks, Newt slides off his bloodied jacket, and I stride to him. "I'll take that for you." I say, gently taking his tan jacket.
"Thanks." He nods before slipping on the maroon coat.
I set Newt's orginal jacket on the chair with mine before walking back to the blonde boy, adjusting his new coat. "Good thing this one doesn't have my blood on it..." I laugh weakly as I dust off the shoulders of the jacket.
I can feel Newt's eyes locked on me. "How are you feeling?" He asks, his voice laced with concern.
Shifting my eyes up at him, I shrug. "I don't feel any different yet." I whisper, brushing the strand of blonde hair in his eyes out of his face with my bandaged hand.
He gently grasps my hand, taking it into both of his and examining the blood-stained bandaging, pursing his lips together. "Just keep an eye on the bite, alright?" He whispers, lifting his eyes to mine.
"I will; don't worry about me." I say reassuringly. "You be safe, though."
"You know I will. If there's anyone to worry about getting into danger, that's Tommy." He jokes lightly.
Laughing softly, I nod. "Good that."
Gally crouches down and lifts off the circular metal door of the sewers, setting it to the side and carefully lowering a ladder inside. "This is it."
Folding my arms, I quietly walk towards the hole in the ground, cringing at the sewage smell.
Fry, crouching down at the edge while Gally climbs into the hole, softly says, "Gally," causing Gally to freeze in his tracks, "take care of these two, okay?"
Pursing his lips and drawing his brows together, Gally nods before disappearing into the ground.
I look back over my shoulder at Newt, who's now sitting on the chest of spare clothes, examining his right hand as he balls it into a fist and opens it back up, furrowing his brows.
"Newt?" I mumble.
He lifts his head, getting to his feet and limping towards the sewage entrance just as Thomas climbs down the ladder. "Keep an eye on the bite." Newt repeats before sitting on the ground and sliding into the hole in the concrete.
"Wait, Newt-"
"I'll be alright." He says reassuringly, freezing in his tracks down the ladder to look me straight in the eyes. "Trust me."
I frown, wanting to ask him what the shuck has been going on with his arm, but I simply do as he says: Trust him. "I do..." I whisper.
He nods, smiling warmly before disappearing into the darkness below.
• • •
Pacing back and forth, brushing my thumb on my chin, I anxiously look to my watch. "It's been hours. What is taking them so long?" I mumble, looking down into the sewage entrance for the millionth time.
"They'll be back soon. I'm sure of it." Fry says reassuringly, sitting at a small table in the center of the rose-garden room that is covered with old, worn books, and he eats from his small plate of rations before taking a drink from his tin cup.
Groaning in frustration, I plop down in the seat across from Fry's, looking at his face that is dimly lit up by the small, flickering lamp on the table with us. "Have you noticed anything strange about Newt recently?" I ask.
Furrowing his brows in confusion, Fry shakes his head. "No, I haven't. Why do you ask?"
I sigh heavily, rubbing my temple as I lean against the table. "Nothing... I'm probably just over-analyzing things."
Swallowing down a mouth-full of food, Fry sits back in his seat with a content sigh. "I wouldn't worry too much about him. Newt's always been good at taking care of himself."
Folding my arms, I nod slightly as I huff a sigh, staring at the open books. "So this Gally guy... What is it about him?"
Fry, setting his empty plate beside his cup on the table, sits a little taller. "Gally was in the Maze with us. He had come up one of the first few months, so he was there for basically the entire three years we were trapped. He might have been the third guy, following after Newt, if I remember correctly."
I rest my elbows on the table, listening intently.
"Gally's the kind of guy that holds routine and order highly. The rules of the Glade were very important to him, so, when Thomas came up, and things started changing, Gally really started to hate him. Obviously, he was wrong to, but, you have to understand, things were the same for three years, and then our world flipped upside down because of Thomas, so, I mean, from Gally's perspective, it is justifiable for him to get angry. Especially since Ben was banished..."
I frown, tilting my head to the side. "Ben?"
"He started out as a Builder, which is what Gally was. Gally was the Keeper, in fact, but then Ben was promoted to a Runner, if you could even call that a promotion." Fry chuckles weakly before his face falls. "Gally had an old connection with the kid, but, obviously, Ben got closer to Minho once he became a Runner. I think Gally envied Minho a bit for that. He didn't show it, but I could sense it.
"Anyways, Ben got stung the day after Thomas had arrived. He went crazy and tried to kill Thomas, and we banished him from the Glade, shoving him out into the Maze just before the Doors closed in order to let the Maze do its work with him."
I shudder at the thought, immediately reminded of Annie attacking Rachel.
"Although they were no longer close, I think Ben's death was the first instant Gally began to hate Thomas. Then, Thomas ran into the Maze, was recognized by Teresa when she came up, and so on, so that loathing built up until he snapped."
"Snapped?" I repeat, pondering on it. My eyes widen when it clicks. "Chuck..." I mumble.
Fry nods somberly.
I frown. "Who was he?" I ask softly. "I know Thomas said Gally had killed him, but... What happened?"
Lifting a brow as he fumbles with his hands on the table, Fry takes in a deep breath. "Chuck was the Greenie before Thomas, so he had been in the Glade for a little over a month by the time we escaped. He was a good kid, a real good kid... Maybe twelve or thirteen." He scratches the back of his neck. "Sure, he couldn't do much other than clean up after everyone else, that's what Sloppers did in our Maze, but he had a big heart and a contagious laugh. Once Thomas had arrived to the Maze, Chuck clung to him as if Thomas were his own big brother, and Thomas felt just as strong of a connection.
"The day we had escaped, Gally was ready to sacrifice Thomas and Teresa in order to get the Grievers to not come back to the Glade; you see, the Doors didn't close our last night in the Maze, and the Grievers attacked, killing a lot of kids. Obviously, we foiled Gally's plan and gave everyone a choice: stay in the Maze and die with Gally, or attempt to escape and risk our lives with Thomas. Most of us went with Thomas."
"Wow..." I mutter, lifting my brows. "That must have been rough."
Fry manages to chuckle weakly. "Yeah, it was." He takes a swig of his water before continuing. "When we got out, we walked into the, what was apparently staged, bloodbath in a WICKED lab, and, suddenly, a video came up on the main screen-"
"Chancellor Paige talking about the Flare..." I mumble knowingly.
"Exactly." He nods. "When it was over, we thought that was it, but, turns out, Gally managed to escape, too. Except he was stung." He fidgets as he begins to recollect the incident. "He had a gun, and, of course, he aimed it straight at Thomas, telling us that we were not free and that we belonged to the Maze... As soon as he pulled the trigger, Minho chucked a spear at Gally." He clenches his jaw, closing his eyes as he mumbles softly, "Then, Chuck suddenly collapsed. It turns out, he jumped in front of Thomas, taking the bullet and saving his life."
My throat begins to burn as I fight back tears over a child I never knew, licking my lips anxiously. "I'm... I'm so sorry..."
Fry shakes his head. "It's not like it was really anyone's fault. Gally isn't even necessarily at fault, given that he wasn't able to control himself."
I nod quietly, staring at the books in silence. "Do you think he hates himself for it?" I ask, speaking up after a few moments.
"Gally?" Fry asks. "He seems like he would. I mean, he appears to have changed for the better."
Nodding, I look down at my hands as I fumble with the blood-stained bandaging.
"How is your bite?" Fry asks gently.
I shrug. "I haven't necessarily checked it yet, but I feel fine."
"Feeling fine is not the same as actually being fine." A familiar raspy voice says from above, causing me to jolt with a start. Looking up at the level above, I see Lawrence slowly making his way down the stairs towards us. "I would know."
Scowling at the man, I shove my left hand into my pocket.
"You should really examine the wound." He purrs, slowly striding towards Fry and I.
I turn away as he steps into the light of the lamp, my stomach tying into a knot. "I do not want to look at it right now." I mutter.
"Oh?" Lawrence says, lifting a brow. "And why is that?"
"I don't see the veins darkening throughout my hand and fingers, so I have no reason to check. I would like to avoid the signs as long as I possibly can."
"Just because you cannot physically see the signs does not mean they are not there in the first place. You can't avoid the Flare." He says, running his hand along the edge of the table. "It's different for everyone. You might not even see physical signs for the next twenty four hours..."
I clench my jaw, locking my eyes onto Fry's to avoid Lawrence's as I struggle to compose myself. "What the shuck does that mean?"
"I'm a living testimony." Lawrence chuckles. "Just look at me."
I stubbornly keep my eyes focused on Fry.
"Did you not hear me? I said look at me." The Crank hisses, leaning down so that his face is just inches from the right side of mine.
I close my eyes, trying to avoid his gruesome image.
"LOOK AT ME!" Lawrence suddenly screams, slamming his fist on the table.
Flinching, I open my eyes and hesitantly look at the man, his rotting face directly in front of mine.
A sickening smile stretches from ear to ear across his face, and he glides his tongue across his top set of teeth, as if he's an animal staring down his prey. "You see my nose?" He asks.
Clenching my jaw as I struggle to steady my breathing, I nod quickly.
"What's wrong with it?" He asks.
I hesitate to respond, unsure where he is going with this and what he wants from me. "Wrong? I- I don't know what you mean-"
"WHAT'S WRONG WITH IT?!"
I jump slightly. "It's not there..." I mutter, cringing.
"Exactly." He growls. "You see, Rose, my wife, she got the Flare." He says, standing tall now, and I let out a trembling breath of relief as he steps away. "She went crazy within a few hours of getting clawed by a full-term Crank. Our neighbor, Michael, was the one who did it to her. I always hated him." He explains, as if mentioning that he had hated his neighbor is truly crucial to the subject at hand. "She was cannibalistic by the fourth hour, but I didn't want to let her go. I wouldn't. Besides, I didn't mind it: having a Crank wife. If anything, she was easier to deal with when she was a monster." He shrugs simply.
Scowling suspiciously, I flicker my glance to Fry for a mere moment as we listened to this infected man's disturbing logic.
"All I had to do was feed her, but I was kind enough to keep her company."
"What about the suffering?" I mutter irritably. "Why didn't you just put her out of her misery?"
"And be left alone? After all I've done for her? Ha! No! If she had to suffer to spend the rest of her days with me, then so be it!"
Clenching my jaw, I glare at the man as he continues.
"I chained her up by her wrists above her head to the towel wrack in the guest bathroom, fed her three meals of raw meat a day. I would even sit on the counter and chat at her while she snapped her teeth at me, growling and screeching.
"But then, one day, when I went into the room to giver her her lunch, I had found a pool of blood on the white tile floor, and, dangling above it from the towel wrack were the chains that I had cuffed her wrists up with..."
I distort my face in confusion, heart thumping against my chest.
"In fact, her hands were still in the cuffs, but the rest of her was not there. It turns out, my Crank wife had gnawed off her arms just below the cuffs... She was an ungrateful women, I tell you. My food and company wasn't good enough for her."
My eyes widen, and I shoot Fry a panicked glance, my heart pounding against my chest so hard that if feels as if it's trying to break through my ribs, and my head spins as I grow nauseous from the imagery, stomach leaping to my throat at such a twisted, horrific concept.
Fry, gagging, clasps his hands over his mouth in horror.
"That's when I had noticed that blood was smeared along the wall and up to the window above the toilet, the glass of the window itself was stained a transparent red, busted through, clearly shattered to be crawled out of. When I had gone to the bathroom window to look out to see if she had left a trail behind her along the ground outside, Rose suddenly jumped out from behind the shower curtains and tackled me to the ground, snapping her rotting teeth and screaming horrendously." He growls. "I fought her off as her blood soiled my nice clothes when, suddenly, she managed to latch her teeth onto my nose...and do you know what she did?"
Breathing forcefully through my nose, struggling to fight the growing sensation of passing out, I mumble, "She bit it off..."
"Bingo. She tore it clean off my face!" He shouts, enraged.
I jump slightly with a start, struggling to hold my ground.
"So you know what I did?!" He exclaims. "I put a bullet in her head!" He shouts, face lighting up as he cackles as if that was a good thing. "Got rid of her nose just like she did with mine!"
I cringe, pulling my knees to my chest. "Why the shuck are you telling us this?" I snap shakily.
He quickly turns to face me, looking at me with crazed eyes. "Because I didn't see physical signs of the virus until nearly two days later, that's why!"
I gulp, grasping my bandaged hand and fidgeting anxiously. "Wh-What?"
"I thought I was perfectly fine after the first twenty four hours because, once I had gotten the bleeding to stop, I felt fine." He leans down so that his face in front of mine again. "Hear that? I felt fine." He growls. "By the thirtieth hour, I was convinced I was going to be fine. Then, when I woke up to the thirty-eighth, and I made my way to the mirror, I saw the face of a monster."
Closing my eyes tightly as if trying to shake off a nightmare, I tremble in fear, sweat dripping down my forehead, but I refuse to cave.
He smirks, standing upright again. "So you can avoid the signs all you want, and you may not even see anything physical, but, in the end, it is time that has control... Time is in charge of your fate." Lawrence purrs as he makes his way back to the stairs. "Only time will tell. Soon, you'll be just like me." He says as he glides his hand along the rail, climbing the stairs.
"I will never be like you." I spit through clenched teeth.
"Really?" he pauses, leaning along the handrail. "Then, show us your bite."
I shake my head rapidly, squeezing my wounded hand tightly. "No."
"Show us the bite." He growls, anger rising.
"I said no." I retort as sternly as possible.
"AND I SAID SHOW US YOUR BITE!" He roars, slamming his hand on the railing.
Fry immediately gets to his feet. "She doesn't have to do that." He says defensively.
"Yeah, shuck you!" I snap at the Crank, though I struggle to stop my shaking.
Lawrence seems to suddenly calm, chuckling to himself. "Fine. Have it your way..." he purrs. With that, he walks up the stairs.
Fry, pursing his lips together, quickly rushes to me. "Are you alright, (y/n)?" He asks, putting his hand on my shoulder.
Trembling, I nod, though I stare ahead in fear.
Only time will tell.
A mere two minutes pass when, suddenly, there's a loud clang from the hole in the concrete floor, causing Fry and I to jump with a start, darting our eyes to the sewage.
"I'll tell Lawrence the plan, and we'll get the other's changed and ready to head out within the next hour. We can settle down in the abandoned shelter just along the interior of the walls. The only problem is that it is across the city." I hear Gally explain from inside, followed by the sounds of someone climbing the ladder.
"What abandoned shelter?" Newt's voice responds.
Fry and I look to each other in relief before quickly rushing towards the hole.
"It's a building that myself and some of Lawrence's men have managed to build up a hideout at, but it's strictly used for when we are taking action within the city's walls."
"Then why haven't you guys been able to take down WICKED yet if you've managed to break into the city?" Thomas asks, clearly frustrated.
"Hey, guys." Gally mumbles as he finally appears from the darkness below, climbing onto the concrete floor. "As Lawrence said," he says, getting to his feet and offering one of the others his hand, "it's a completely different level of complexity breaking into the city versus breaking into WICKED. Besides, you're the key we need to get inside, and we didn't have you until now." He tells Thomas as he pulls Newt out from the sewage, helping him plant his feet on the concrete. Gally offers Thomas a hand.
"I got it." Thomas mutters stubbornly as he climbs out on his own.
Sighing in relief, I stride to Newt, resting a hand on his arm. "Glad your back."
He smiles. "Glad to be back."
"No, you have no idea how glad we are to have you guys back." Fry says.
Thomas, dusting himself off, gives Frypan a puzzled look. "What do you mean by that?"
I exchange a knowing glance with Fry before looking back at the boys. "We had quite the chat with your leader." I say flatly to Gally, folding my arms.
Drawing his brows together in concern, Gally slides his hood off of his head. "What happened?"
"He was demanding (y/n) to show him her bite." Fry says.
Gally darts his eyes to me. "You've been bit?" He asks.
I put my weight on one leg, lifting my left hand to show him the bandaging. "I had Jorge's gloves on to hide it, but I gave them back once we settled down here. You can bet your shuck face that I regretted that as soon as that Crank heard about it."
"He got pretty intense, too." Fry adds.
I nod, folding my arms. "Decided to share how he lost his nose." I say as flatly as possible, doing my best to cloak my shuddering.
Gally stands a little taller, folding his arms, too. "Was he hook up to his IV?" He asks.
Fry and I questioningly glance at each other, pondering on it.
"Now that I think of it," Fry says, taking in a deep breath, "I don't think he was."
"Shuck..." Gally groans, turning on his heels and quickly striding upstairs.
"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Newt asks in a protective tone, staring at me with worry.
I shake my head. "No."
He sighs in relief, looking to Thomas.
The brunette boy stares ahead in thought for a moment before scanning the room with a puzzled glance. "Wait... Where are Jorge and Brenda?"
I manage to laugh softly to myself. "Where do you think? Wondering about the facility because they can't sit still for more than ten minutes."
"Do you know where in the facility they are?"
"I believe they went to the room where they store most of their artillery." Fry chimes in.
"Can you show me where that is?"
Fry nods, patting Thomas's back. "I got ya, man. This way." He chuckles as he rushes up the steel stairway, Thomas quickly following behind.
I smile weakly as I watch them leave, but it fades as I look back down at the red bandaging on my left hand, sighing heavily as I walk back to my seat at the table, plopping onto it.
Newt, frowning, quietly limps towards me. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah... Yeah, I'm fine."
Taking the chair that Fry was sitting on and pulling it right beside me, Newt takes a seat, shifting his brown eyes to my hand. "We really should replace the bandages." He mumbles.
I nod. "I know."
He lifts his eyes to mine, leaning closer. "We should check the bite."
Shaking my head, I mutter, "No..."
"(y/n), really, we need to take a look-"
"I said no, Newt." I snap sternly.
Slightly taken aback by my tone, he hesitantly nods. "Alright... Alright, we won't." He whispers, gently grasping my upper arm.
Closing my eyes, I exhale deeply. "I mean, I do want to check it. Just...not here."
Newt tilts his head to the side in confusion. "Why not here?"
I open my eyes to look dead into Newt's. "Lawrence made it very clear that, just because I feel fine, does not mean that I am. He told me how he didn't see physical signs of the Flare until nearly two days after he was bit... He made sure that I knew that, even if my hand is clear of dark veins and any signs of infection for now, it does not guarantee I'm Immune."
Newt clenches his jaw, drawing his eyebrows together in concern.
Biting my lip, I look down as I fidget with the wrapping on my hand. "I don't want to check it here because I don't want to give that Crank any satisfaction in seeing me begin to turn into a monster." I growl through clenched teeth, throat burning as I fight back tears.
"Hey," Newt says sternly, lifting my head by my chin to make me look into his big, brown eyes, "you are not, nor will you ever be, a monster. You hear me? You are far stronger than he is. Even if you do have the virus, I know very well that you will not go down without a fight. Don't you ever refer to yourself as such a thing again, alright?"
Pursing my lips together, I nod.
Inhaling deeply as he stares into my eyes, Newt suddenly pulls me into a hug, squeezing me tightly.