Run With Me ➵ Newt [2]

THE END | that's a promise

"MINHO!" I screamed, ignoring the fresh round of pain racking through my body. "Minho! They've got Minho!"

"We know, Rose, we know," came Newt's voice from behind me.

"We can't let them take him away - we have to help him-!"

Someone grabbed my arms and pulled me up from behind - I tried to push them away but their grip was too strong.

"LET ME GO!" I screamed.

"Rose, stop," came Newt's voice. He sounded like he was crying. "Stop it. There's nothing we can do."

I ignored him and continued screaming for Minho, struggling against Newt as he dragged me away. I heard my other friends screaming after Minho as well, our tortured cries echoeing through the air as we watched the guards pull our friend - our leader - away to the Bergs, away to WICKED.

More guards advanced on us, aiming their guns and shooting at anyone that posed as a threat to them. When my brain finally cleared and I realized that Minho couldn't be saved, I sobbed and let Newt pull me away from the guards, running away with our other friends from danger for what seemed like the millionth time. Bullets and projectiles shot past us, deadly despite their small size. As we scrambled away, we watched as the guards retreated to the Berg and filed in. Through the fluorescent blue lights of the interior, I saw Teresa standing among Janson and Ava, who stared back at us through the smoke. Then the door closed and the Berg flew away, the propellers spinning up wind and dust as it disappeared into the night sky.

For a moment, there was silence. Only the roar of the fires burning and anguished cries of the injured broke through the deadly quiet.

Then my eyes rolled to the back of my head and I collasped from the pain.

-

(Newt's p.o.v.)

Newt's eyes widened as Rosalind's knees buckled and she crumpled to the ground.

"Rose!" He rushed forward and knelt by her side, clutching her body to him. He grasped her face with a hand and tried to shake her awake. She remained unconscious, her breathing ragged and unsteady.

"What's wrong with her?" Newt said, panic flaring up in him.

His friends gathered around him, all of them looking equally as worried as he felt.

"S-She got shot," Thomas said shakily. "In the side I think."

"Shot?"

Newt glanced at Rosalind's side, and sure enough, her shirt was soaked with blood, a hole in the fabric. Why didn't he noticed it earlier?

"Rose, hang in there," Newt said, his voice cracking up. "Someone get a doctor!"

Thomas got up and shouted for medic, his voice strained. Newt continued hugging Rose to him, painfully aware of how clammy and cold her skin felt despite the heat of the battle earlier. She had broken out into a cold sweat, her usually pale face now the same colour as milk.

"Just hang on in there, Rose," Newt whispered to her, even though he knew she couldn't hear him.

A few minutes later, someone knelt down next to him and examined Rose's wound. The doctor's frizzy red hair was tied back into a messy braid, her blue eyes dull and tired in the darkness.

After a while, she said, "She's fine, the bullet didn't hit any of her organs. But she's losing a lot of blood."

"Can you heal her?" Newt pleaded.

The doctor nodded and took out a medic bag. She rummaged through it and pulled out supplies, then started to work on Rose's wound. Newt cradled her body, his hand shaking as he pushed her hair out of her face. He hated how frail she looked at the moment, her chest heaving up and down in ragged, uneven breaths. When he pressed his ear against her chest, her heart was beating too fast.