Newt: A Broken Boy ↠ The Maze Runner

14

"I still don't get why you had to blow up the entire building," I said to Minho for what seemed like the millionth time that day. We were taking refuge in an abandoned shack, and were lying under our sheets, ready for the night. I didn't have a clue what we were going to do the next day, where we were going to go, but at least we were free from WICKED's clutches.

"I told you," Minho said, "this'll push them back for a few years, hopefully. I don't want these Trials to begin anytime soon, Newt." He ran a hand through his thick hair, his dark eyes filled with worry. "I have friends in there. I made sure that they wouldn't be killed in the explosion by making sure they were in another building. But now I'm not sure that was enough."

I chewed on my lower lip, wondering what he meant.

I decided not to ask. Minho didn't seem to be in the mood to talk about it at that moment. Instead, I rolled over onto my back, tucking my hands behind my head and using them as a pillow.

Through a large hole in the ceiling, I could see the night sky. The stars shone brightly, brighter than they ever had at the WICKED compound, with all the fluorescent lights shining day and night.

I lay there for a few minutes, staring at the stars above me. My mind wandered, as it often did, to my home country. The Flare had reached England just over two years before, and had caused much devastation. The U.K. was such a small place, and the disease spread like wildfire. Now, there were only cranks living there, but other than them, my old home was just an uninhabited, crumbling mess.

"Minho...?" I asked tentatively, looking over at the older boy.

Minho grunted, inclining that he was awake.

"Do you... do you think that these are the same stars that you would see in England?" It was an odd question, but as I lay there, under the night sky, I really missed my old home.

Minho turned over to face me, without answering my question.

"You really miss it, don't you," he said, more of a statement than a question.

"Yeah," I said quietly. "I really do."

"I was born in South Korea, you know that?"

I blinked. Minho had never really opened up about his birthplace, and I'd never brought it up, knowing it was a touchy subject.

"When we left, I was barely a year old. I don't remember it there at all. It's been my dream to go back ever since I can remember. Now there's a chance that I might never see it."

His voice was low, and he was pausing between certain words, as if he was choking back tears. I stayed quiet, not knowing what to say.

"But what I know is that place is still my home, my proper home. Not because I was born there, but because I want it to be my home. Korea is where I fit in. In America, the only people who understood me were my parents. And when the flares hit..." Minho paused. I didn't need him to go on to know what had happened next.

When the flares struck, everyone's world fell into chaos. As far as I knew, Minho's parents survived the initial mess, but I wasn't sure what happened to them.

"My parents caught the flare," he said, as if he had read my mind. "It was pretty early on, so my father died. Just like that. But my mother had time, and she knew she was dying. The last words she said to me were, 'help them find a cure to this disease. Let no one else suffer as I have.'"

I chewed my lip, biting it hard. I could taste blood, but I didn't care. There were so many stories like Minho's, and like mine. I could see what WICKED was trying to do, and the reasoning behind it. I just didn't think it was the right way, especially since I had found out that my aunt felt the same.

"WICKED is just trying to find a cure," Minho said, pulling me out of my thoughts.. "And when I blew up that building, I only meant to set them back a few years, try to make them think of a better way than sending teenagers to their literal deaths." He sounded slightly disgusted at the last part, as if he couldn't believe that anybody could be so cruel. "I never meant for anyone to die, though. I thought that everyone had returned to their rooms by the time I set the timer on the bomb."

My eyes widened and I felt the blood from my lower lip running down my chin. I brought my hand up to wipe it away and hastily closed my mouth, which had dropped open.

"You mean... you mean that you think that they hadn't?"

"Just the Chancellor," Minho said quietly. "I killed her. I ended someone's life!" His voice was rising in agitation. He lowered it to barely more than a whisper. "She did a lot for me, Newt, you have to understand that. And I killed her."

Minho rolled over, so that his back was facing me. I understood the message - he was going to sleep.

I tried to sleep, but the moment my eyes started to feel heavy, another disturbing thought would enter my head. I lay there, under the light of the stars for hours, pondering what had happened the night before, and Minho's story. I had found out a lot about one of my best friends that night, more, in fact, than I had in five years. Before, all I had really known about him was that he was a good runner, and that he liked pie. It was quite rare for him to open up like that, but I supposed that under the cover of night, miles away from any civilisation, he felt the need to confide in someone.

At some point, I must have drifted off, because I woke the next morning to Minho's yells as the building crashed down around me.

~

A/N: CLIFFHANGER. Hope you enjoyed it, now you can ponder over it and try to think what the hell just happened. Sorry for the late update, by the way. I had a craaaaaazy week. Anyways, bye!!