Injured Feet & Rickety Hearts {Book 1 Completed}

//Chapter 74//

The Gladers broke out into whispering, some cheering thinking they had won. But I however didn't trust it, panting heavily I limped towards the dead creatures, with a heavy step I kicked the grubby pile of crap.

Its arms had sucked back into its body, the machinery noise had died and the lights on its body had turned off. Unlike the dead creatures, Though the lights and the noises had stopped, their arms were still out.

They really had shut down.

"He did it"

I almost whispered as Minho and Newt came up to my side. The near silence messed with my head. I swallowed as I turned around and looked towards Minho. He looked like he had been cut over almost 90% of his body.

But he was alive. I reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, he looked at me, exhaustion on his face but a hidden happiness. I grinned before I swung around, throwing my arms around Newts neck.

His wince made me jump back, he had taken a lot of damage, a cut on his forehead, on his neck and his cheek. He was bleeding almost everywhere, and he was covered in griever sludge. But he was right there in front of me.

He looked at me panicked, his hands coming out to touch my face, though it stung I didn't pull away.

"Are you ok?"

He asked, examining the cut on my temple where the griever had struck me by accident before. I had lots of cuts on my fingers and grazes on my arms. But I think I got out of it better than everyone else did.

I nodded rapidly before smiling. But I couldn't muster a laugh of any kind. Not when all I could smell is blood. Death was everywhere, I could barely get a smile on my face.

I felt a slight nudge on my leg and when I looked down, a very... very dirty dog was looking back up at me. He had a cut on his face and immediately I collapsed to my knees and wrapped my arms around him.

"Oh bark"

I cried out, I was so worried he would get hurt. And he did. But it's better than him dying, no one thought he would survive and yet here he was. I pulled away slightly and looked at the cut, it was very red and sore, but he would live, maybe a scar.

He was holding his leg because of a small slice mark on his knee and up on his left ear a chunk had been taken out of it. He looked really hurt. All I could tell myself was that somehow my best friend, my brother and my boyfriend made it out alive.

Minho was getting everyone gathered together, counting. I was 15 and with how many people he's already counted it's not good. I didn't need to count to know we had lost more than half of us. But some of us had survived, that's something.

I stood, my hand still resting on bark as I anxiously took Newts hand. Slowly Minho looked back at us.

"18. That's all that's left"

It was sad news, and the way that Newt's grip tightened told me he was angry, he was really upset about how many people had died. He was so caring, he would care about every soul that died. And Newt was one of the first to be here, he met each greenie as they came up through that box. He knew everyone, unlike me who didn't. This must be so hard for him.

I looked around at everyone, all looked glum, some had started to cry. Some of them were really young, maybe 1 or 2 years older than Chuck. This was no place for children. I looked around at the bloodshed and gore, we have to go. I can't stand it up here.

I reached for Minho and got his attention.

"We need to go find Thomas and the others, if the Grievers shut down then the hole must be safe"