Kidnapped// Maze Runner Fanfiction ✔

Chapter: 19

It took Newt 5 minutes to finally drag his body away from all the rubble. He stood up, his legs wobbling and heart still racing. Clutching his chest, he turned to face what was left of the science lab. A pang of sadness swept through him as he thought about the things that could have been lost with the building. It was the most interesting building he'd been in yet but the first he'd been completely unable to explore. It was very ironic.

The best thing he could do now was concentrate on the remaining two buildings. The closest was still a long walk for such an ill boy but there was no other way. He struggled over a particular huge lump of foundation and as he slipped down the other side, his eyes fell onto a cylindrical shape. Its label was faded but it had clearly been a rich blue before. Newt bent down, his heart jumped into his throat as he picked the small bottle up. He turned it over in his shaking hands. There was a faint word inscribed along its plastic coat- WATER- and Newt thought he would cry from joy. There was only a quarter remaining of the 500 ml bottle but he still rushed to undo the lid. He lifted it to his parched lips.

There was a smell. It was the smell of stagnant water. The bottle had been left abandoned since the sun flares had hit and the liquid had become foul. Newt recoiled in disgust, the smell making him want to retch. He knew this was his only chance of getting all-important water into his dehydrated body but it was horrible. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. Then he brought the top back up the touch his bottom lip. Tilting the bottle back, the filthy liquid trickled into his mouth. His first instinct was to spit it out but he forced the warm stinking water down. He gagged and shook his head in response. However, Newt kept drinking until not even a drop was left. He felt sick and his thirst wasn't filled at all. If anything it was worse.

He'd completely forgotten about the chance of getting dysentery, which would kill him out in the Scorch. He had to just hope that it wouldn't affect him too badly. Dropping the bottle onto the dry and dusty ground, Newt began to stumble towards the next building again. The sickness in the pit of his stomach making him want to curl up and cry but nothing would get done doing that. The restless night before was also starting to catch up with him.

He limped and staggered and stumbled all the way to the building. He looked up at the structure and something different about it jumped out at him instantly. It seemed in good condition. It wasn't pretty but it certainly appeared solid and almost well looked after. For some reason, he trusted this building less than the one that crumbled. It simply seemed wrong.

The main doors looked relatively clean and the glass it was made from was still completely intact. Newt leant against them as he sucked in deep breaths, trying to see straight and not spill what contents he had left in his stomach. Just short distances caused everything to become hazy and blurred now. How he would make it to the mountains if he needed to, he didn't know.

Eventually, things settled down in his mind and body enough to pull the doors open and slip inside. The lobby area was the same as the previous building, which meant it was probably a science lab as well. By default, it meant there couldn't be any more offices. The last circular structure was too interesting looking to be the boring workplace. The small revelation made the blond smile.

Suddenly he was excited to poke around. The building he was in could hold some fascinating things like old experiments and equipment. He might even find a first aid kit, which would be great. Also, the round structure at the end of the mosaic of a compound was just impressive anyway. It could be anything from an auditorium to the main meeting space.

But right now he looked around the lobby. The foyer branched off in exactly the same way as the other building, so Newt decided to go down the same corridor as before. This walkway didn't look as neat and tidy but he still stumbled down it with very little trouble. The first door was the exact opposite of his initial thought of the place. It was splintered and filthy, barely hanging on its hinges. He gently pushed it open, it creaked slightly but didn't break. Peeking inside, he saw pretty much the same as the last lab he was in, with work surfaces and sinks dotted about but this one didn't have the large tank in the far corner. To be honest, it was boring and quite disappointing. 

So instead of going inside completely, he went back into the dingy corridor. The next door was much the same and the lab was yet another double. So was the next and the next and the next. It was a real let down to what he'd expected. Any unnecessary movement caused him to lose what energy he had and this corridor was unnecessary in his search. Suddenly he felt sick for a completely different reason.

He moped, with his head dipped, the rest of the way back to the entrance. However, in the time taken to walk there, he had decided to actually look at the condition of each passageway and decide which one looked most promising first before going down it. That way he wouldn't waste what life he had left.

Now as he inspected the maze of potential ways, one struck him as the cleanest. It was the one leading off just past the front desk. It had almost no lumps of plaster on the carpeted floor. Though it wasn't entirely immaculate, the walls did have a nicer coat of paint to the others and there were pictures of nature scattered along it and most were straight on the flat surface.

He limped down it, all his nerves on edge. Something about it felt seriously wrong. The first door he reached was locked and the glass panel was blackened. Newt considered breaking in but once again was reminded of the empty rooms that could disappoint him and what energy could be expended trying. He shook his head in frustration but moved along. He felt weak, sick and angry. All he wanted to do was sleep it all away but his reality was this. There was simply nothing he could do.

The next door was also locked and the glass clouded black. If the next door was the same, Newt was sure he'd lose what sanity he had. He really didn't want to, so slowed his pace, preparing for the setback. When he reached the entrance to the next room he wasn't surprised to see the black glass and when he tried the handle, it didn't budge. Locked.

"Bloody hell, why can't one thing go my way for once? I can't keep doing this! If I'm here because of WICKED, at least let something go my way!" Newt shouted, instantly feeling light-headed. The anger was slowly draining out of him now but he still kicked at the door and jerked the handle.

Suddenly, something clicked by his hand. He pulled it away quickly and his brow creased in confusion. Then, the door swung open a couple of inches, light streaking across the floor. He tilted his head in confusion now. He was sure it was locked only a few seconds ago. Unless of course, he hadn't pulled the handle down far enough...

Whatever the reason behind it, his curiosity now grabbed his full attention and his excitement returned. Carefully he pushed against the solid oak and it opened silently, unlike the other doors. With one last moment of hesitation, he swallowed hard and walked in. The room was so different from the other rooms that it took a while for Newt to compute it. It was completely clean, as in spotless. There was no broken glass, no scattered paper, no broken wall or collecting mould. It was as if someone had been there recently and had only just left. There were even test tubes and tanks with bubbling liquids sitting along one of the work surfaces.

The whole thing was just bazaar and it baffled Newt how it could still be like it was. This was the most interesting place he'd been in all the time he'd been there and yet something put him off. He closed his eyes a breathed in deeply, trying to ignore the part of his brain telling him to just walk away and forget about it. When he opened them again, the first place he looked was the far worktop, with paper and folders piled on top of each other. Something about it pulled him towards them.

He limped over. There was a closed file on the top of the stack. Its rough brown cover hid its contents as if it didn't want anyone to peek. Newt reached down, his fingers tracing along its surface. He was nervous about what he might find.

"This could be it. My way out of here. I could get away from this hell. See Tommy again. See my friends." He giggled, a tinge of apprehension in his voice. The signs of isolation were really showing now.

Before he could get too hesitant, he gripped the corner and flipped the folder open. His eyes widened in alarm at what he saw. There in black and white were the words, 'Subject A2. Property of WICKED' and a picture of the boy he recognised so well. Thomas.