Burned - Newt x Reader - Part II

10. Clues

I never thought about how I die.

Honestly, it can happen so fast.
A shot, a crank, a griever, infection, hunger, dehydration...even the damn sand could bury me alive if it wanted. Everything, honestly.

Morning crept in, though it felt like the night had lasted a lifetime. I hadn't slept one minute. I couldn't, not in this storm, not in the cold, not in the loneliness, and not with the sounds of cranks all around me. But now... they were gone.

A part of me thought I could just lay here.
Stay curled up in this hole and close my eyes, let dehydration and hunger take over.

The others would believe I was somewhere safe, with WICKED. They wouldn't know. Nobody would. Nobody would ever find me here. And maybe that was okay.

It would all be over...every pain, every loss. And I would be with Gally again. With him, everything would finally be fine.

My eyes started to fall shut when I saw it. Light. Just the faintest flicker cutting through the still dark sky, glowing from a building in the ruins ahead.

With what little strength I had left, I pushed myself up and crawled out from the stones. I could see the broken malls, the collapsed towers, a graveyard of the world that used to be.

I looked back over my shoulder...WICKED wasn't far.

I looked back at the building. Was Thomas there? But were they really stupid enough to light the place up?

It didn't matter.

I had nothing else. No map, no clue, no safe path. All I had was that light.

So I clenched my teeth, muttered, "Come on, (Y/n)," and turned on the engine.

~~~

I had been walking for hours. My legs felt like jelly, my throat was dry, and the ruins all started to look the same.

I circled the mall with the lights on again and again, but there was nothing. No voices. No movement. No sign of them. Just another empty building.

The sun was higher now, beating down hard, and every step felt heavier.

The quad was useless now. It couldn't climb over the piles of stone and steel that blocked the streets.

So I just kept walking. Hours. My boots scuffed the dust, my shoulders ached, and every ruined corner made me want to scream because it all looked endless.

Then, when I was almost ready to lay down and sleep, I saw it.

A dark stain on the ground. I froze. My heart hammered as I crouched down and touched it. Wet. Sticky. Blood. And still... fresh.

My stomach flipped. It had to be them. It had to. But who was hurt? And where were they now?

I looked up, scanning the stones, desperate for something anything and that's when I saw it. Written in coal into the side of a wall.

Little One
———>

My lips parted, and this broken laugh, half a sob, escaped me.
"Little one..." My hand traced the letters like I had to make sure they were real.

"Minho... God, you idiots... it's you. You're alive. You're fucking alive. And you.. you believed me.."

Tears blurred my vision, hot against the dirt on my face. I swiped at them, grinning and crying all at once, like some insane person.

My legs ached, my whole body ached, but it didn't matter anymore. When the road was free, I jogged, my breath coming out sharp, but I didn't stop. I couldn't. Not now.

I climbed over another pile of rocks, hands scraping against the stone. My palms burned, my knees buckled once, but I forced myself back up. And then I saw it...another mark. Written fast, rough, with coal. An arrow. East. Always east.

"Thank you," I whispered, my chest tightening. They were still thinking of me. Still leaving signs.

The sun burned hotter and hotter. I already felt my skin turning red. My lips cracked every time I opened my mouth. Sweat ran into my eyes. The desert didn't care if I lived or died.

Hours passed...or it felt like hours. I walked until my legs shook. And then I saw it. Another sign.

But this one wasn't black.

It was red.

I crouched down, heart pounding, and touched it. My fingers came away wet, sticky. Blood. Someone had written it with blood.

I froze, my stomach twisting. My throat closed. No more coal? Or... was it something else? A trap? A trick?

I shook my head. No. No time for that. I had to believe it was them. I needed to. If I stopped believing now, I was already dead.

I pushed forward, my joints screaming with every step. My nose throbbed from the kick yesterday. I felt dried blood crusted on my face, more smeared across my cheek from when I'd wiped it earlier. I didn't want to know how bad I looked. It didn't matter anyway.

Another arrow. Another smear of blood. My heart beat faster, dragging me on.

And then the ground changed. Sand. A dune ahead of me, tall and steep.

I looked up at it, my chest already aching, and cursed under my breath.

The sand slipped under my boots, pulling me back down every time I tried to climb.

I dropped to my hands, dug in, clawed my way up.

"Come on, (Y/n)," I muttered, teeth clenched. "Just... a little... higher..."

And then... I was at the top.

My whole body trembled.

Down below, through the shimmer of the heat and sand, I saw them. A group. Moving together.

Gladers.

My Gladers.

I'd found them.

But they were running...

Something was wrong.