Him || The Scorch Trials

Eleven

For a second she thought that the response was the same, but then she noticed the man's eyes slowly shifting over to meet Thomas'. His lips parted slightly but nothing more than a faint cough escaped them as he became more aware of everyone around him.

Thomas looked over to Mara with a new found hope in his eyes. Mara nodded lightly and smiled at him, telling him to continue, then turned to Newt who was still sitting behind her. His eyes were sad, but once they met hers they brightened with a slight glimpse of happiness.

He gripped her tighter, his arms wrapped around her waist. She held her hands over his and clung to them. They were sweltering with the Scorch's blistering heat but Mara didn't mind, it wasn't his or any of the others' faults. It was WICKED's fault. Everything that happened to the Gladers was their fault. They're lives were full of death and sadness, but Mara was just glad

She turned back to Thomas, who was hovering over the man and waiting for another response from him. "My name is Thomas. These are my friends. We've been walking through the desert for a couple of days, and we need more water and food. What do you...?"

He trailed off when the man's eyes flickered back and forth in a rush of panic. Mara leapt forward and gently held the man still, and then she leant forward to look the man in the eyes. She didn't know why she had been so desperate to comfort him, but something about seeing him like that felt familiar, it felt like she had been through the same situation before. She just didn't know why.

"It's okay, we don't want to hurt you. I promise." She quickly told him, cutting off Thomas who had begun to tell the man the same thing. "All we want is to help you, we're the good guys. We just need you to-"

The man's left hand clasped on to Mara's wrist from underneath the blankets he was encased in. He gripped her with an insane strength, one that didn't even seem possible from the old man. She let out a yelp in surprise and instinctively tried to pull herself away from his tightening clutch, but it was no use.

"Stop it! Let me go!" Mara yelled at the man.

He shook his head wildly as he pulled her closer. His eyes were full of complete terror and anxiety, a look that filled Mara full of horror. What had happened to this man that had made him this scared? It couldn't be the scorch alone.

Newt jumped forward and tackled the man, trying to pry the man's fingers from Mara's wrist. At first, Mara wanted him to get the man to loosen his group, but then she saw his mouth move. He was trying to say something to her, except all that came from his dry lips was a hushed whisper.

"What'd you say?" She asked, brushing Newt from her and the man's linking skin to lean forward and pull her ear closer to the ragged man's mouth.

Once again he spoke. His voice was raspy and dry, producing a sound that was unsettling in an awfully uncomfortable way. She caught the words storm, terror and bad people.

"Say that again!" Mara yelled over the hustling winds, moving her ear closer to the stranger's lips until they were only inches apart.

This time, she understood most of what the man had to say, and it definitely wasn't good news. "Storm coming... full of terror... brings out... stay away... bad people."

Before she could do anything, the man shot up into a sitting position and threw her arm backwards, releasing his grip. His eyes were wide and full of a traumatising fear. He kept repeating the same word over and over. "Storm! Storm! Storm!" As he cried out a thick, sticky strand of mucus flowed over the bottom of his lips, swinging back and forth as he shouted at the top of his lungs.

Mara crawled backwards into Thomas, who had been sitting behind her the entire time. Newt came over to her too, and the three of them- along with the rest of the Gladers- stayed silent, watching the crazy man.

Maybe he was a crank. That seemed like a valid explanation. Before, the man in front of them had a life beyond this, he had a normal, sanity-free life which had been snatched away by the devil of insanity, clogging his brain with crazy thoughts. Either that, or he was telling the truth. Maybe a storm was coming.

The winds had picked up, Mara noticed that as she found it near impossible to scramble to her feet. She clung to Thomas and Newt, all trying to help each other stand up. Above them, the skies moaned and howled with anger, throwing down the wrath of their emotions into the desert.

Minho was standing nearby frantically waving his hands in the air to get the attention of the Gladers. He was preparing to leave for the city, Mara knew that. She tried to fight the growing alarm inside her, but it was too hard to ignore. The man had been telling the truth; a storm was coming, and it wasn't going to be light. Their only chance at shelter was the city, but it was too far to run if they wanted to get there before being the targets of the full blow of the storm.

While everyone prepared to leave, Mara looked back to the man. He had lost his coating from the storm, and was now lying on the ground in the fatal position; his thin, broken legs tucked into his stomach and his eyes tightly forced shut.

"We need to help him." Mara turned to Thomas and Newt, who were standing next to her. "We can't leave him out here like this. Not with this storm coming. We can carry him or something."

"Mara, we can't take him. He'll fight tooth and nail before he lets us even touch him, let alone pick him up." Thomas told her, and overcome sadness in his voice.

"Tommy's right, M. We wanna help, but there's no chance." Newt joined, his eyes flickering over to the man lying on the floor. He hovered for a moment, but it wasn't long until he and Thomas turned away in order for them to prepare to leave.

She badly wanted to help the man, but she knew her friends were right. There was no chance in helping him, there was no chance of him making it either way. She was killing him by leaving him there, but she'd be killing the others too if she got the others to carry him along. The storm was too strong, and they had to fend for themselves.

Everyone gathered together, listening to Minho talk through what they were going to do as he pointed at the city. The closest building was at least half an hour away if they ran at a steady pace, but Mara didn't know if that was enough time for them to make it. But as the sky blackened and churned above them, she knew that getting to that building was their only choice.

So, as Minho began to lead the way the other Gladers followed without a hesitation. Mara jogged along with Thomas at the back of the group, watching to make sure none of the Gladers got lost in the storm.

She focused on the city, knowing that they needed to get there in time. Still, what the man said worried her.

Bad people. Stay away.

What did it mean? Mara assumed that he was talking about cranks, she had no other explanation for what he had said. But what if there was more? The man had been completely terror struck, and he had absolutely no optimism about the people who were from the city. He had been in such a bad state of fear and trepidation that Mara didn't know what to expect.

That was what scared her the most, along with the knowledge that she was heading to the very city that had converted the man to a quivering rag of insanity.

Author's note

Sorry for the late update guys! I've had exams and I'm currently in the middle of production week, so it's pretty crazy at the moment, uggggh :/ Still, I promise that after this week I won't be as late updating. Well, I can try to promise because you never really know what's gonna happen. Thank you guys not for ditching this because of my awful updating schedule though, it really does mean a lot!

-Lows