Maze Runner: The Death Cure (Fan Fiction) Newt X Casey

Chapter 11

Casey POV 

     "Okay, here we go. Attempt number....47?"  I think to myself hopefully, standing in front of a rusty metal door, that looks quite a lot like all the other rusty metal doors I've tried. 

     It feels as if I've been down here for hours, trying to find the entrance to the city. So far, I've been going door to door like some deranged girl scout trying to sell cookies. All I want is to get out of this stupid sewage system and find the damn city already! Is that too much to ask?!

     I reach out and grab onto the door handle, half expecting the door to be locked just like how almost all the others are. But, to my astonishment and delight, this one opens, and it leads me to a street full of people. 

—-

     I wander around the city for a while, trying to figure out where they keep the cure. A small part of me is admiring the city in itself. 

     It is so big. Skyscrapers looming in every direction, and trains shooting by on elevated tacks. It's like the polar opposite of the glade. 

     I scan the area around me, and see one building that stands out from the others. It's taller than the rest, and dead in the middle of the city. 

     So, of course, I make my way over to it. 

—-

     I stand at the entrance to the building, staring up at it. I then walk straight through the doors, and try to look as non sketchy as possible. 

     To my immense surprise, no one tries to stop me. However, I feel a slight vibration in the back of my neck. It is gone within seconds though, just as I pass through the security gate. 

     A horrible realization then strikes me, and I scan the area for a bathroom. 

     Once I find one, I hurry over to it and go inside. 

     Once I make it to the mirror, I pull up my long brown-ginger hair, tie it in a bun, and twist my neck around to see the back of it. 

     It's a difficult task, since I can't see much of the back of my neck, but I do catch a glimpse of my tattoo, the WCKD tattoo, which is also a tracking chip. 

     An incredibly stupid idea strikes me, and it seems like something Thomas would do, so of course, I'm going to attempt it too. 

     I grab my thinnest and sharpest knife, bring it up to the back of my neck, take a deep breath, and cut open my skin. 

     I feel a searing pain, and blood from the cut oozes down onto my fingers, but I don't stop until I feel the knife catch on something metallic. That as well sends another bolt of pain shooting through my body, along with a memory of Newt back in the scorch. 

     I remember Newt using those makeshift tweezers to search for that bullet in my side. His steady hands, his breath on my bare skin. The way he looked so focused and determined to save me. 

     I slowly pull out the tangle of paper thin wires that was imbedded into my neck moments ago. It's covered in blood, along with my knife, neck and hand, but at least it's out. 

     I throw the tracker away, and wash off my hands, knife and neck. 

     "Don't worry Newt," I think to myself determinedly. "now it's my turn to save you."