Subject of the Flame | Maze Runner [2]

TWENTY

What memory could it be? Newt tried to remember the times his life had been in danger. Another moment came to his mind, a moment he'd managed to push into the darkest parts of his mind. A moment where he tried to end everything. The moment responsible for his limp.

Minho had saved his life that day, finding him in the Maze and bringing him back to the Glade. Newt was sure of it. He remembered being dragged through the Maze, inch by inch, going in and out of consciousness. He remembered the orange sky shining onto his face. He remembered the ivy decorating the sandy stone walls. Then, for the first time, he also remembered the person dragging him, and their halo of frizzy curly hair...

"You alright?" Newt was brought out of his thoughts to see Thomas standing in front of him. "Looks like you've seen a ghost or something... sorry, maybe a bad choice of words considering... um, yeah."

Newt mustered a weak smile at Thomas, and the boy settled in beside him. Thomas crossed his legs and leaned against the wall, letting out a deep breath.

"This is all just bloody crazy," Newt said, rolling his shoulders back and wincing at their soreness. "Never seen lightning that strong."

"You're okay though, right? No injuries or anything?"

"Nope. Compared to the rest of these shanks, I'm feelin' brand new. Believe it or not, Electra of all people saved me."

Thomas tilted his head, a thoughtful smile playing across his lips. "This surprises you?"

"It doesn't surprise you?"

"No." Thomas looked over to Electra, who was now staring at the floor ahead of her, trapped in thought. "I'd trust her with my life."

Newt snorted. "Those are some fatal last words."

Thomas turned back to Newt. "Just 'cause she seems scary doesn't mean she is scary."

"Yeah, well, me being scared of her ain't the problem here."

Thomas inspected Newt's features, trying to find something within them. Newt simply looked back at Thomas, noticing the freckles dotting his face and the flush sunburn on his cheeks from days in the Scorch.

After a few moments, Thomas turned away, fidgeting with his fingers. "All I'm trying to say is that having a little trust can go a long way."

"I'll keep that in mind," Newt said, shrugging. "Besides, I owe her now. If a Crank tries to bite her head off I think I'm morally required to step in and help her."

"Do you think there will be a lot of Cranks out here?"

"Probably, they gotta live somewhere, don't they? But we've fought Grievers, so I keep telling myself that it should be fine."

"Hopefully," Thomas said and Newt couldn't ignore the melancholic tone in his voice.

Newt turned to him. "What about you? You okay?"

Thomas shook his head but didn't speak.

"Wanna talk about it?"

Thomas fought with his own words, blinking through his indecision before finally settling on a question. "Have you been having weird dreams lately?"

Newt couldn't remember the last time he'd dreamed. "Uh, no. You have?"

"Yeah, sometimes. They're mostly about my life before the Maze. They... I don't know... they make it seem like I'm important somehow... to WICKED I mean."

"You are important to them. You and Teresa are their bloody star pupils."

"Yeah, I know but," Thomas trailed off again, trying to find the words. "I can't help but think that I'm the reason we're being forced through another Trial. Like maybe if I'd died in the Maze they wouldn't be going forward with more tests. I'm the reason we're stuck out here."