The Maze In Her Heart (Newt, Minho ::The Maze Runner.) ✔

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN: The Trip Up.

UNKNOWN

Rattle rattle.

WICKED is good. 

My eyes shoot open. The world beneath me shakes and rumbles. 

Roxanne. George.

I stumble up, gasping for air. My breaths suck in and out, like someone was squeezing my lungs harder and harder with each gasp. George. I had to find him. The goal was him- it was always him. 

But why?

I gasped harder for more breath, and stumbled back. I flattened against the wall, my fingers digging into the mesh. Around me, boxes rumbled, all with the logo of WICKED on them in large blocky numbers. 

On the floor next to me was a boy with blonde hair, unconscious. His arm was nearly split open, a gash stretching from his elbow to his wrist. 

I gasped, and placed a hand over my thudding heart. 

Roxanne. My name is Roxanne. I thought to myself, taking deep breaths in and out once more. Blood dripped from the mesh and to the depths down below, the metal glistening with metallic blood. 

I couldn't seem to remember anything else. Any time I tried to grasp for a memory, they scuttled from my brain, only leaving me with the knowledge of my name and my goal: George. But the reasoning behind my goal was simply not there, and it drove me nearly up the wall trying to remember. My fingers clung to the metal mesh as the box continued its rattle upwards. 

"Jesus!" I shouted, as it gave a lurch. I fell to my knees, stumbling. The boy next to me gave a limp jolt, stirring. He had a bruise on his cheek, which was pressed against the metal. His arm was limp at his side. All color from his face had been drained as he propped himself up. 

I rushed to his side, stumbling and holding my hands out for balance. As I reach him, I sink to my knees, slowly grabbing his head. It lolled limply, his lips parted and matted curls flat against his head. He was sweating, and after I moment, I realized the same was for me. 

The boy's head lolled sleepily and he glanced up at me. I stared down at him, not sure what to say, as red lights shone down on them sporadically. The ghost of a memory passed through his eyes for a millisecond as he stared up at me, then it was gone. 

"Where are we?" He said, attempting to sit up. I shook my head. 

"Stay still. Your arm is ripped all open." I said, breathing heavily. The boy looked down and gasped, as if just noticing.

"Oh God! What happened?" He shouted over the squealing of metal. 

"I don't know! I can't remember anything except for my name and what I need... I need..." The memory licked the surface of my brain, then sunk back down. I strained, squinting my eyes. "I swear, it was just there!" I shouted, looking down at him. 

He was still conscious, but he looked like he was barely there. "Where are we?"

"I have no idea." I said, gulping. 

He paused, before asking, "Do you know anything else?" He sounded desperate almost, reaching up his good arm and running a hand through his curls. 

"Yes. My name. Roxanne. And I-I remember another name, George." I stared down at him, and another look passed through his eyes. His chest rose and fell peacefully, falling into a better rhythm. If I could keep him awake, then maybe I could help him with his arm. 

"My name is Liam. That's all that I know." He said in a low voice, his hand now resting above his heart. My eyes, unwillingly, flickered to his arm. It was a mess of blood and mangled skin. Something had torn it up, and something sharp at that. 

"I wonder if these boxes have any bandages to help you with that." I commented, more to myself than anything else. I looked around, trying to ignore the squish of Liam's blood under my knees. 

"It's okay..." Liam said, but I felt it was more to respond to me than anything else. Every breath he took looked like it pained him, and his teeth were slightly bared. He closed his eyes slowly, and I snapped in his face. 

"Stay with me." I said, my voice surprisingly calm. I didn't know what came over me, but I felt that as if it were one of those situations where someone was calm while the other panicked. I pushed myself up slowly, wobbling. The box gave a shudder. I stumbled, grabbing the wall. 

'I'm okay!" I shouted, as if letting Liam know my every move. I moved across the box, grabbing at the holes in the metal. The piles of crates near me rattled with every jolt of the box, giving threatening sounds. 

I stopped at the boxes, and grabbed one of them. It gave a rattle, but it seemed hollow. I shook it, lifting it. It was heavy, and caused the muscles in my biceps to burn lightly. Holding the box over my head, I shoved the other boxes with my feet, staring at them and watching as they bumped together like bumper cars. 

"Liam, all of these boxes are empty-" The words have barely left my mouth before the box we are both in gives a huge jolt. I lose my balance, stumbling. I drop the box, meaning to hold my hands out for balance, but the box I had dropped fell right atop my head. 

Dull pain burst right on top of my head, and I fell in a crumpled heap onto the ground.