The New Distance [The Scorch Trials Book]

f o u r

clouds // one direction

I woke up well before it was even five in the morning. Newt was still sleeping next to me. The sight made my heart skip a beat and kind of provided the little extra push I needed for today.

I went to the bathroom and washed my face then carefully slipped the knife and gun from under the pillow of Newt's head and slid them into my pockets. I straightened my clothes, put a button up white shirt over my tank top to hide the metal on my wrist, bandaged my head up and put on the running shoes. I went outside to the common room and did my waiting, hoping that my thoughts wouldn't consume me while I did.

At ten minutes till the time appointed by Janson, every Glader sat in anticipation, most holding a plastic bag full of water and the bed sheet packs at their sides. The invisible shield had reappeared overnight in the middle of the common area, impossible to pass through, and then we settled just on the boys' dorm side of it, facing where the Janson had said a Flat Trans would appear. Aris was sitting right next to me.

"Hey," I said. He looked up at me but said nothing. "Look, sorry for the-"

"It's okay," He cut me off and gave me a small, barely noticeable smile. I was about to say something else when Minho interrupted.

"We've got three minutes," Minho said, for once looking completely serious. "Everybody sure they still wanna go?"

I nodded and noticed others doing the same.

"Anybody change their mind overnight?" Minho asked. "Speak now or never. Once we go wherever we're going, if some shank decides he's a sissy pants and tries to turn back, I'll make sure he does it with a broken nose and smashed privates."

I looked over at Newt, who had his head in his hands and was groaning loudly.

"Newt, you got a problem?" Minho asked his voice surprisingly stern. I was a bit shocked and waited for Newt's reaction.

The older boy seemed just as surprised. "Uh...no. Just admiring your bloody leadership skills."

Minho pulled his shirt away from his neck, leaned over to show everyone the tattoo there. "What does that say, slinthead?"

Newt glanced left and right, his face blushing. "We know you're the boss, Minho. Slim it."

"No, you slim it," Minho retorted, pointing at Newt. "We don't have time for that kind of klunk. So shut your hole."

Minho was putting on an act to solidify the decision we'd made for him to be the leader, and that Newt understood. Though if Minho was acting, he was sure doing a good job of it.

"It's six o'clock!" one of the Gladers shouted.

As if this proclamation had triggered it, the invisible shield turned opaque again, fogging to a splotchy white. A split second later it vanished altogether. I noticed the change in the wall opposite us instantly-a large section of it had transformed into a flat, shimmering surface of murky, shadowy gray.

"Come on!" Minho yelled as he pulled the strap of his pack onto his shoulder. He was gripping a water bag in his other hand. "Don't mess around-we only have five minutes to get through. I'll go first."

He pointed at me. "You go last-make sure everyone follows me before you come."

I nodded, trying to fight the fire burning through my nerves; I reached up and wiped the sweat off my forehead as I walked towards the back of the crowd.

Minho walked up to the wall of gray, and then paused right in front of it. The Flat Trans seemed completely unstable, impossible for me to focus on. Shadows and swirls of varying shades of darkness danced across its surface. The whole thing pulsed and blurred, as if it might disappear at any second.