The Wolf Trials

Chapter Forty One

A/N: I know it's been a while but here you go, sorry if it's a little short. I'm getting back into writing 😌

Thomas looked up, his ribs hurt but not as much as they should have. He thought he'd fell onto the ground, didn't he?

His eyes adjusted to the light, he let out a small laugh in embarrassment. He was sprawled unceremoniously on top of Newt. "I won't be adding that to my top ten list of landings..." He mumbled.

He felt Newt's chest rumble as he laughed, carefully pushing Thomas off of him. "It was better than letting you break something. Not that I intended to fall over too. But it worked."

Thomas got up, suddenly aware of everyone's eyes on them. Lydia was smiling, Minho was rolling his eyes. Malia muttered. "Get a room!" She started walking away, Thomas could tell she was inwardly smiling. It was like nothing had ever changed, apart from the brief gap between his two lives, he felt as though he was complete.

His brain was no longer feeling like it had been in a blender, for the first time he could remember, Thomas felt whole. He had an actual family. And Newt, Thomas wasn't completely sure what he was to him, friend? Family? Thomas felt his stomach churn with uncertainty. After everything they'd been through, Thomas thought confronting his feelings would be easier, he cared about Newt, but his past, his normal teenage life still haunted him. Lydia? She was an entirely other problem.

With a grunt of annoyance, Minho marched on with Malia, muttering about, "Scouting ahead."

Thomas kept his eyes on the fence, the occasional shadow seemed to move, the constant feeling of being watched sent shivers down his spine. How was he supposed to find survivors hidden amongst the cranks, could there be anyone left?

They rounded a corner, Thomas walked straight into Minho and Scott. "What's the problem?" He squinted, still struggling to see in the dark. Lydia and Malia had their torches off, everyone had grown silent.

Newt mumbled under his breath, the words so quiet Thomas could barely bear. "Someone's there. Behind the lodge." Thomas's eyes flicked over to the large shadow of a building, narrowing as he saw slight movement coming from just behind it. "Crank?" He whispered back.

Newt shrugged, Thomas tightened the grip on his bat. He pushed through the others, slowly walking toward the lodge as the others trailed behind him in a formation, ready for any attack.

Struggling to see, Thomas held his hand out to Lydia, silently asking for the flashlight. She handed it over, "Be careful." He nodded and flicked it on, keeping the light low as he approached the fence that surrounded the edge of the lodge property.

Before all of this, the lodge had been where most of his friends and others from the maze had lived, abandoned and left in perfect condition for them. Now, peeking into a window all Thomas could see was rubble, furniture smashed and thrown across the floor. The odd blood stain had him worried.

He hopped over the fence, his boots crunching lightly on the ground. Keeping his guard up, he kept checking through the windows, looking for any signs of life or survivors. Continuing around the side of the lodge, he made it to the garden outside.

His torch reflected the dew already growing on plant leaves. Some green and fresh, while others were black with rot. It really had been a while.

He grew doubtful that anyone was here, the movement could have been anything. But deep down, he knew someone else had to be alive. Everyone from the Glade was smart. Smarter than the soldiers from WCKD at least.

"There!" Lydia dug an elbow into Thomas's side, pointing. He flashed the light in the direction, exposing a figure leaning against a tree. Their clothes were torn and smeared with blood.

Thomas almost burst out with laughter. He hadn't expected to see the slight grin again, though bloodied and bruised he would know that face anywhere. Frypan. He was still alive!