IT STARTED WITH A MAZE - Newt x Reader (F)

- A WAY IN -

I don't know where the sound is coming from - the sky? a building? the air itself? - but it doesn't matter. People around us don't react. They already know the rules.

All these people, tucked safely inside... and they still live like prisoners.

Gally straightens. "Yeah, we better get off the streets. And I know it's hard, but..." He looks at us pointedly. "Act like you've seen it before."

Then he's moving again, slipping back into the stream of pedestrian traffic like he belongs there.

We don't follow right away.

We just... stand.

I look at Newt. His mouth is slightly open like he's still processing. I glance at Thomas and see the same stunned expression I feel on my own face reflected in his. "I don't know about you," I murmur, "but can I just say; what the hell?"

Thomas huffs a laugh through his nose. "Yeah. That's a perfect thing to be saying." He claps Newt lightly on the back, and we start walking again. "What the hell indeed."

~~~

It's past curfew.

All the lights that once flickered blue and white have now turned red - the kind of red that doesn't blink or fade. Just a steady, silent warning bleeding across the city. The few street-lamps that are on glow like veins, stretching down empty roads.

Somewhere down the block, a car whines by - sleek, dark, and fast, sirens screaming for a few seconds before vanishing into the distance. The red-and-white lights flash across the brick walls and gleam on wet concrete.

Soldiers. Patrols. Enforcers. Whatever you want to call them.

They're making sure everyone's inside.

We are not.

We dart low and quick through alleyways, sticking close to the walls, slipping behind dumpsters and carts and old market stalls long closed for the night. Our breath is loud in the stillness, but we barely speak. There's no room for mistakes.

Gally leads the way, shoulders hunched, flashlight long since turned off. When he stops short, we stop short. When he gestures to drop, we melt into the shadows. We move like ghosts, shadows of shadows, pressing our backs against brick when headlights spill too close.

He holds out a hand and we freeze in a dark crevice between two buildings, shoulder to shoulder and barely breathing.

"Stay down," he mutters under his breath. A beat later, a pair of guards stroll past the mouth of the alley. Their boots are loud on the pavement. Their guns are louder just by existing. We hold still until they vanish. Then Gally straightens and gives us a tight nod. "They've definitely upped security." He glances over his shoulder at us, one brow raised with suspicion - or maybe just amusement. "I'm guessing you shanks have something to do with that." Thomas shrugs innocently. I offer a half-smile, but don't deny it. "Alright," Gally sighs, pushing off the wall. "Let's get out of here."

We're jogging again - low and quiet, feet quick against stone and steel. Gally leads, cutting through shortcuts like he's mapped this city in his bones.

I fall into step beside Newt, his breathing steady but shallow. "Is your leg alright?" I ask. The vibrations of the train zoom through my mind and I have to take a long, hard blink in order to ground myself with the fact that Newt is indeed standing in front of me.

"Yeah," he says quickly. Then a crooked smile tugs at his lips. "Thanks." I nod, but I keep an eye on him anyway. His strides are smoother now, but not effortless.