The Maze In Her Heart (Newt, Minho ::The Maze Runner.) ✔

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE: Buses & Bullet Holes.

Gally looks like he rolled around in a pit of snakes. His clothes are ripped, and his hair is tangled into small, knotty clumps. His eyes show none other than hatred and regret, and deep down in there, what looks like fear and sorrow and pleading. I can barely register the fact that he's alive before he speaks, causing tension to spill across the crowd of remaining Gladers.

"You're not going anywhere. You belong to the Maze," he growls. His eyes narrow into slits, and he brings up his left hand, which is holding a gun.

"Don't go.. This is all your fault!" He shouts, his hand shaking. His finger rests on the trigger, but he doesn't seem to know where to aim it. He suddenly turns the gun on me, but once more, he only stares. His eyes are filled with that same hatred, it was unwavering. 

"We're free, Gally..." I say, carefully holding my hands up in surrender. I feel everybody around me tense up. He remains looking at me, only at me, his eyes burning holes into my own. I try to hold steady ground, not looking away. It was a battle, like when dogs stared at each other in battle of dominance. My hands remained up, trembling.

"This is all your fault! Why we were stuck in the Maze... You're not leaving. You will stay here forever. So help me, even if you die." Gally rambles on, his lips moving slightly. Spittle rests on his bottom lip. The gun is making sounds of metal clinking together from the shaking movements of Gally's hand.

"We're free, listen to me," I take a step forward, attempting to reason with the beast of a boy in front of me. However, as soon as my foot reaches ground, Gally runs forwards with the gun outstretched. I scream, reaching my hands up to shield myself, as if that would block the splattering impact of a gun. My eyes close, but in that split second, I can feel him hesitate. 

In the second, I can see through my opening eyes Newt run forward and smack the gun down in an attempt to send it clattering from Gally's hand. Gally sways from the impact, clinging onto the gun, and going down with it. He hits the ground with an oomph, and the Gladers start to panic, running around and scrambling for their weapons to stop the mad Gally. In the panic, Gally points his gun up and shoots blindly. The bullet slices with precision right into Newt's bad leg.

Newt crumples to the ground and Gally raises the gun again, but his eyes meet mine just as his finger rests on the trigger. It's a pleading in his expression that I can't decode, or have the time to. 

"I can't.." Is all he can choke out before Minho runs up, jumping on Gally's fallen form and beating it senseless. I fall to my knees next to Newt and turn him onto his back, his head resting on my lap. His eyes are closing, but I shake him gently. "It's not that bad.." I lie. His leg leaked blood, and it ran down the floor like a small waterfall. I grab the nearest body. It was a doctor, his face lolling. His face was pale, eyes closed and jaw dropped open. I rip the jacket off his form, sending his body rolling off. Hands shaking and trembling, I ripped his jacket and lifted his leg, wrapping the jacket around his leg.

His eyes glaze over. "It's too bloody painful..." He whispered over the panic and shouts. "All the memories.." he clarifies, reaching up to place a hand on my cheek. I feel tears sting my eyes. 

The image of a small Newt came back, flooding my mind. The small smile across his lips, the gleam in his eyes, the crisp white of his outfit. The wild nest of golden blonde hair. 

His legs as he ran, limpless, to a group of mini Gladers. He looks down at a girl with green eyes and brown hair, and smiles. 

"You are being a shank, playing with blocks." He giggled, his voice high pitched. 

The girl looked up, laughed, her face filled with childlike joy that would never be recovered. "I'm doing what WICKED told me!" 

Newt helped her to her feet, and they hugged, giggling and kicking at Styrofoam blocks.