Lottie
At this point, I was questioning if I was immortal. Somehow, the Cranks didn't kill me last night. I woke up in the same position I passed out in: curled in a ball at the foot of a tree. There was no sign of danger anywhere. Instead of the screeches of Cranks, I heard birds chirping. The sun was shining pleasantly.
Despite my cheerful surroundings, I couldn't help but feel anxious and unbearably alone. Hours must have passed since the attack. My friends were long gone, and I wasn't sure how I was going to find them again. The only thing I had to aid me was my bag, which managed to stay on my back as I tumbled down the steep hill.
I faintly remember my friends calling for me last night, and my inability to respond. That, at least, gave me some comfort. They'd certainly be trying to find me, they wouldn't leave me for dead. I supposed I would just climb back up the hill and try to catch up with them.
If I were to do that, I couldn't waste any time. I sprang to my feet, ignoring the pains that erupted all over my body as I did. I began to climb up the hill, and when I reached the top, I stopped. I didn't have Thomas's compass; I knew we were supposed to go north but I wasn't sure where exactly that was.
Then I noticed something odd about one of the bushes surrounding me. A large branch had fallen off of it, but it seemed very fresh. The leaves were still bright green, and the place it had fallen from looked quite clean and new, as if it was cut.
I looked a few yards ahead, and saw the same thing on a different bush; the same green leaves and the same fresh cut. I was instantly taken back to my time in the Maze with Minho, learning how to keep track of the turns we took. We would slice bits of the vines off the concrete walls and leave them on the floor for us to find later.
I smiled triumphantly. It must have been Minho who cut the branches. He knew that I would see them and follow them. He quite possibly might have saved my life with the idea.
I began to run; if I had any hopes of catching up with my friends, I would have to move fast. This is what I was trained for, however. Those many months running marathons in the Maze had built me up. I felt as if I could run forever, especially with the motivation that I currently had.
I think my body wanted to help me in any way it could, because I hardly felt fatigue, thirst, or hunger. All that mattered was that I kept going. That was all that ever mattered, really.
I think, if Newt was in his right mind, he would be proud of me. God, I missed him. I missed his fluffy hair. I missed his warm eyes. I missed his unconditional love. I knew that those things were probably not a part of him anymore. He was probably really sick by now, and halfway to insanity. But there was still hope for him. If our plan worked, I would have my Newt back. It had to work. I don't know what I'd do if it didn't. I don't know if I could handle losing Newt, especially after all my previous losses.
At this point, all my faith relied on Annabelle being able to help us. I knew she wasn't dead. I think I would feel it if she was. And somehow, I have a feeling that she knows something. She knows how to fix Newt, and part of me thinks that I know, too. Or I used to, before the Maze. I think if I could just remember one memory, one simple memory, I could find the answer to everything.
I tried to think back to other memories that had come back to me, and what caused them. Of course, the Changing. Funnily enough, I found myself wishing that I could be Stung by a Griever, so that I could remember more, but I didn't have the means, the time, or the mentality for that. My other memories would come when I was asleep, usually after something traumatic. Perhaps the next time I slept, I would receive some memories. I could only hope.
I began to notice a difference in the branches Minho had been cutting for me. They were wet. Even wetter than they were before, which meant that they were very freshly cut. I was getting closer. I couldn't hold it in anymore; I began to call for them. It wasn't the best idea, since my yelling could attract Cranks, but I was desperate and lonely. If I didn't find them soon, there was a possibility I would never find them again.
"Minho!" I bellowed. "Thomas! Brenda!"
I screamed until my voice went hoarse, and even more after that. The branches were still fresh, but I heard no reply to my calls. The landscape had become rocky and steep a while back, meaning that I was quite close to Denver and the mountains that surrounded the city.
I soon found something that made my spirits jump for joy: a footprint. Thomas's footprint, to be exact. I remember watching his boot sink into the mud repeatedly as I walked behind him. Every clue looked so new; it was a wonder that I hadn't found my friends yet.
I began to shout for them again. "Jorge! Frypan! Julian!"
Then, finally, I heard a response. A faint, simple response, but it was a response nonetheless.
"Hello?"
Overcome with excitement, I screamed back. "Hello? Can you hear me?"
"Lottie?"
I felt like crying. I did it. I actually did it; I found them. "It's me!" I screamed, pushing myself to run faster towards the voice.
"Lottie? Where are you?" More voices had joined the original one, each of them calling out for me to join them. "Over here, Lottie!"
Their voices gave me the motivation to keep running. I flew past trees and bushes. I didn't even notice the branches Minho had cut, because I didn't need them. I was going to be reunited with my friends in a matter of moments.
Soon, their voices were so close it felt like they were drowning me. And then came the hands. There were so many, and they were so gentle. I stopped running to feel them. The scents were familiar to me. These were the people I loved.
It was only then when I realized how exhausted I was. My head spun. My stomach heaved, but I didn't have anything left in my stomach. My desert-like throat longed for water. My legs gave out, and I collapsed into someone's arms. I couldn't tell whose, since I closed my eyelids in exhaustion. I felt my friends' panicked touches and heard their frantic voices.
I wanted to tell them not to worry, but just like last night, I couldn't speak. I allowed them to take care of me. They lowered me gently to the forest floor. Brenda tipped some water into my mouth before Thomas fed me a small package of crackers.
Afterwards, I was allowed to relax. The others seemed to take my arrival as an excuse to take a break themselves. I kept drifting in and out of consciousness, since the adrenaline still had not left my body.
"Did my breadcrumbs help you?"
My eyes flew open to see Minho eagerly bending over me. My eyebrows creased, wondering what on earth he was talking about. Then I remembered his branches leading me to them... just like the breadcrumbs in that old fairy tale.
I smiled lightly. "Very. I wouldn't have been able to do it without you, really."
He looked prideful. "Everyone thought I was being stupid, but I knew you'd figure it out. They were all wondering why I wasn't as worried as them. Well, you're here now, aren't you?"
"They didn't have to go in the Maze. I think those skills of not getting lost is special to the Runners, don't you?"
"Yeah." Minho sighed. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm glad for the Maze. It taught me how to survive. I'd probably be dead by now if I hadn't volunteered to be a Runner all those years ago."
"I... kind of miss it," I said softly. "I mean, it was all routine, wasn't it? We knew what the next day would look like. Out here, it's unpredictable. We could be thrown off track in a matter of minutes; someone could be dead in a matter of seconds. It's scarier out here, in my opinion."
"I suppose. Nothing beats a Griever, though." He shuddered. "I still have nightmares about them sometimes."
"Me too," I said. "I bet we all do. But at least we had each other back then. We've lost so many people since the Maze that I feel so alone sometimes."
"You've still got us," said Minho, gesturing around at my resting friends. "But I know what you mean. But hey, once we get Newt and raid WICKED, we'll have a bunch of new people to spend the rest of our lives with."
I smiled at his positivity, but couldn't help but feel skeptical. I know we've made it this far, but who knows when we'll be in danger again? Who knows when the next person will die? I felt as if it were only a matter of time.
A/N
Hey, this was supposed to be up a week ago but I got caught up in getting ready for vacation and I forgot... my bad. Vote if you liked it!
- golden habit