Subject A250: The Flame (COMPLETED)

Thirty: Scorch Smiles

A/N: Don't forget, I link a song in every chapter for you to get a little more out of each one, and most of them are on my 'Ace' spotify playlist <3

Also I've replaced my abandoned Glee Instagram account with @/thatmazefayz in case you're interested. It'll be mainly Maze Runner and Gone series related, because apparently I love hanging out in relatively dead fandoms XD

Trace woke up as the sun rose the next morning, she tried to groan, and the sound that came out made her jump a foot in the air. She sat up and looked around, expecting to see an old, frail man sitting behind her. Nope, no old man. That would have to mean she'd made that sound herself. Maybe she'd become an old man overnight. She looked at the back of her hands and flipped them over to inspect her palms. No, she was no more wrinkly than usual.

Dehydration. It was dehydration. That's why her voice was croakier than Gally eating sandpaper. She hadn't had a drink of water in a long time, and she'd run through the desert and caused a massive explosion and fire since that time. She should probably have a drink.

She hadn't bothered to remove her backpack at any point during, or after, the fight. In fact, she hadn't touched it since she'd grabbed the torch from it to set off the fire. Praying silently to herself, Trace unzipped it, feeling desperately for the water bottle at the bottom of the bag.

Got it. She pulled it out and found that it was still half empty. Or half-full. Yes, she decided, it was half-full. She was feeling like an optimist today.

She limited herself to five quick sips. Her body craved more, but the heat of the day hadn't even begun to set in yet, and she knew she'd need to hydrate herself as she walked.

The bottle was half-full, and today was going to be a good day, so Trace pushed herself up, ignoring the ache that resounded all over her body, particularly in her shoulder. Trace took a step forward and inhaled sharply, glaring down at the comically large bruise on her leg. It had swelled up overnight, and was now a deep purple, green and yellow at the edges. Real artsy. In fact, Trace wondered if she could put it in a museum.

No, she decided. She'd better keep it attached to the rest of her body. Use it for walking and stuff. It was actually pretty useful.

She took another step and grimaced. This was going to be a long walk. Or a long limp.

"No pain, no gain," she muttered. And when the gain was seeing her Glader friends again, she could definitely put up with some pain.

She pushed forward, getting into a steady rhythm. She probably looked an absolute mess right now; her hair was disheveled; she was constantly squinting against the sun; her clothes were torn and bloody and she had a really impressive limp to top it all off. But, despite how she may appear, Trace was proud. From the moment she'd woken up in that box, which felt like years ago, she'd felt completely overwhelmed by everything. None of what she'd faced had made any sense, but she'd faced it anyway. She'd spent so much of that time in the maze worrying about fitting in, but out here in the Scorch she'd learnt to fend for herself. She'd learnt to fight on her own, to survive.

Rose would be proud, she thought, and her heart clenched in response. Part of her still didn't believe she'd lost Rose. Somehow that was the hardest part of all this to believe; a girl that strong, that brave, and that fearless shouldn't be dead while Trace was alive.

A lone tear escaped and ran down Trace's cheek. A ridiculous thought occurred to her: she'd saved Thomas' Chuck but doomed her own Rose. How jacked up was that?

The mountains got closer with each weary step, and at approximately midday, Trace had closed about half the distance she'd started with. She could make it there by evening, provided no more gang members arrived, or Cranks didn't crawl out of the earth, or sun flares didn't decide to return for The Kill Order Part Two. She took a few more sips of water.