Survive Till Dusk (The Maze Runner)

Chapter 38 // No Distractions

*Alex's P.O.V.*

The images of the boy covered in gauze, his pale skin flecked with ugly blue bruises, still haunted my thoughts hours after WICKED had contacted us. I still couldn't quite fathom what I had seen. Was it really Newt? I had seen him die. How was it possible that he was still alive? Was all of this just some cruel trick that WICKED was playing on us to lure us out of hiding? My mind continued racing. In the end, it didn't matter if it was Newt or not. We wanted to take down WICKED — the guilty. That also meant saving the innocent — people who did not having a choice in becoming members of WICKED; who had simply been taken and forced into submission and cooperation.

I knew the chances of all of this being some sort of ruse were pretty high and yet, somehow, I couldn't help but hope that it actually was him. But what then...? Would he still be the same after what WICKED had done to him? Would he remember me... remember us? What if- my thoughts were interrupted by a gentle knock. Finally, it was time to get some answers.

Silently climbing out of my cot, I padded over to the door, grabbing my hunting knife on the way.

My mind had kept me awake for hours and when the ultimate boredom of lying in bed and trying not to make a sound had consumed me, I had decided to get dressed and wait. For what I was waiting, I wasn't exactly sure, but all I had done for the last days, months, and maybe even years was wait. Wait for answers, wait for the right moments, wait for memories and people to come back — I had waited for so long that waiting a little bit longer wouldn't make a difference. 

Before leaving the room, I glanced back at the sleeping silhouettes of my two best friends. If anyone is up there watching over us, please keep them safe. Please let this be the end of this insanity, I thought to myself before stepping out the door.

"Good morning, Alex," Keith said. Still too tired to properly make any type of conversation, I simply stood there as he studied the dark bags under my eyes and my sunken cheeks.

"Morning," I replied, my drowsy, slightly delirious brain finally catching up on the conversation. For a moment, we silently stood across from each other, neither one of us able to utter a word.

"I just wanted to make sure you were up on time. I know how important this mission and your friend are to you," he said, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. It was a foreign feeling and yet somehow so familiar... so comforting.

"Thank you, Kie— dad." I corrected awkwardly, quickly averting my eyes. The word felt strange coming out of my mouth — it had been quite a while since I had any recollection of using it.

"C'mon, I'll walk with you a bit," Keith said, gently nudging me as a signal for me to follow him.

As we began heading down the hall, two Right Arm soldiers carrying large crates passed us. 

"They're... packing?" I wondered aloud, turning back to take a closer look.

"Vince gave us the order to pack up everything we could after the last meeting," he explained, turning to me with a serious expression on his face, "This is it. When this all goes as planned and WICKED is destroyed, there won't be anything left for us here."

"But where will we go? There's nothing around here for miles and miles. Nothing but cranks, ruins, endless heat, and sand. Where the hell can we go?"

"Paradise," my dad answered.

"Paradise?" I questioned, slightly taken aback by his answer. What the hell was paradise and where was it? Paradise... that didn't even sound like an actual place. It sounded more like an illusion, a daydream, a fantasy.