When We're Older- The Maze Runner (Newt)

past conversations

I LIED IM ALL CAUGHT UP NOW! LOCKED MYSELF IN MY ROOM FOR ABOUT TWO DAYS AND I WROTE THREE LONG ASS CHAPTERS SO HERES ANOTHER ONE

surprise...:)

"In the beginning." She started to explain as Thomas and I sat side by side, our eyes on our friend in front of us as she began to deteriorate. "We were lost."

Mary continued to rummage around the shelves behind us. "All we knew was the younger you were, the stronger your chances."

Thomas turned around, and I knew the wheels were turning in his mind as he looked at her. "You worked for WICKED?"

I suddenly furrowed my eyebrows and looked at her as well with curiosity. If she worked for WICKED then why was she here? More importantly, why was she helping us? So many questions that needed to be asked swirled around in my mind like they were in some sort of blender. As she continued to talk, Thomas and I stayed silent—needing to hear every word that came out of her mouth.

But as soon as he mentioned the question, Mary stopped what she was doing and stared at her hands almost as if she were remembering things she didn't want to. But the woman nodded, humming once before sighing and speaking again. "Long time ago."

Thomas and I looked at each other as she ranted. "You know, at first...we had the best intentions. Find a cure, save the world."

She poured a blue liquid into another beaker, not making eye contact as she spoke. Seeing her handle the substance with so much care set me on edge as I swallowed—vividly remembering the day we had escaped from the WICKED facility. As hard as I tried, those moments would still find their way into my memory from time to time. The pain. The hopelessness. The fear of dying on the white tiled floor of my childhood room, holding a drawing that had been my only sense of security. At the thought, I reached my hand into the pocket of my leather jacket, pulling the crumpled piece of paper out.

It was worn down now, the colors fading into the tainted white. The sun was beginning to smudge the corners, and Newt's hair went from a vibrant yellow to one that was more realistic. The blue veins that occasionally scattered my body were dulled, now more of a blackish color as I stared at the image. I no longer wanted it. The reminder that I had been through such tremendous pain wasn't doing anything for me. If anything it just made me sadder.

"It was clear you kids were the key because you were immune." She set the blue beaker down and swished the other, looking at Thomas and me finally. "But why?"

Folding up the drawing, I looked back at Brenda. She was still wheezing for air, like she couldn't get enough of it in one breath. Her face was a pale color, the ripped red shirt tightening around her chest with every heaving breath she took. There were so many ways we could've avoided the situation that caused her to become infected, but as usual, our curiosity took over, and led us down the dark hole of danger again. I wished that we could just turn it off. No matter how hard I tried to not let it win over—to not ask questions, my mind always won.

"Eventually." Mary's soft voice brought me out of my thoughts as she began to speak again. "We found an answer."

I turned toward the woman once more as she began to fill her concoction into a tiny vial, pouring what looked like more chemicals into it as well. She was now wearing blue gloves, keeping any unwanted germs from possibly interfering with Brenda's health. "An enzyme produced by the brains of the immune."

She swirled the vial in her hand, seeming to know what she was doing without having to even think about it. "Once separated from the bloodstream, it can serve as a powerful agent to slow the spread of the virus."