~Sara~
As Sara regained consciousness, her head felt like a thousand pounds had been pressing against her skull. At first, she actually thought she might've taken the drink and was just experiencing the aftermaths of getting wasted; a hangover.
But no.
She woke up, tied to a chair with rope, and a piece of tape over her mouth.
Then the unrecognizable face of a person hovered over her as her eyes tried to adjust to her surroundings. In full alertness, Sara struggled against the rope straining her down to the chair, completely forgetting that someone was watching her as she was knocked out.
"Shh, hey," a familiar voice snapped at her, then lowered her voice, "It's me, Rachel. Quickly, here are your clothes. Let me get you outta there, and then just change as fast as you can before the others come and see you."
In the distance, Sara could hear the sound of grunts and hits, like there was a huge rubble going on in the other rooms nearby.
Sara squinted her eyes at her. "Rachel? W—where're the others—where's Newt?" She started to panic as she remembered the last turn of events before she was out.
Rachel reprimanded her once more for not keeping her voice down, so Sara tried to relax as Rachel cut the rope. Yet Sara was desperate to have her questions answered.
"He's fine," said Rachel. "He's with the others. We found you guys just in time. Seems like your friends had a blast," she added, raising her eyebrows. "But you and Newt were smart. I guess that's one reason you guys make such a good couple." She averted her eyes, and the same underlying sadness from before, radiated off her face as she said so.
Once she cut all the ropes and Sara was able to stand, she asked Rachel, "What do you mean we were smart?"
She rolled her eyes at Sara as if expecting her to know the answer to her own question. "You guys found a way to trick the Cranks into thinking you drank that nasty stuff...? Duh," she said.
"Yeah, I did. Newt actually drank it," Sara corrected her as she wrapped all that fabric around her head and face again.
"No, honey. He didn't." Rachel shook her head, then gestured at the guys as they all came rushing in, panting, and ready to beat someone up.
Finally, they were all there—Minho, Jorge, Aris, and the whole rest of them that were with them before the groups got separated.
"You okay?" Minho asked Sara, and she nodded in response. Then he turned to Rachel. "You too?" his voice, as he spoke to her, carried a recognizably softer tone. Coming from Minho, that really surprised Sara.
Rachel nodded before replying. "Yeah," she said. She reacted similarly to him, but as she realized she had, she quickly followed that with her typical smart-aleck tactics. "Of course I am, who do you think got her untied?" She nodded over at Sara.
Minho raised his hands in defense, and it was a truly shocking revelation because knowing him, he would never let anyone smart-talk him just like that, without spewing his own venom in retaliation.
Sara wanted to know how many times she roasted Minho after the groups separated, that he simply had to accept the fact that she was probably more fluent in the language of sarcasm than he was. That must've been so entertaining to watch.
Suddenly, Aris stepped forward, his left shoulder colliding with Minho's right shoulder, making Minho respond with a belittling side-glance. "Yeah, I made sure she's okay, thanks Minho," he added, but his facial expression depicted anything but gratitude, to which Rachel kept an uncomfortably straight face.
"Good to know your self-proclaimed heroism matters more to you than her safety," Minho mumbled, then coughed to mock him. Minho never rationed the energy to call anyone out, except for Rachel—of course. Despite Aris's fierce scowl, everyone ignored the stupid boy-fight.
Rachel was in some deep klunk, though. But did that mean Aris knew who she really was by then?
"Plus, didn't you talk about having a girlfriend or something? Wait 'till she finds out you're tryna cheat," Minho added, and Aris cleared his throat while stealing a quick glance at Rachel.
Guess that means he doesn't know.
Sara was no mind reader nor psychic, but she knew Rachel must've been wishing to disappear at that moment.
"Here, hermana." Jorge walked up to Sara with his arm extended. "We got your weapons back. The other Cranks took them while you were out, and the others were busy getting wasted," he said as he handed her the bags she was carrying up until she got there.
Then the guys that were with Sara and Brenda, who also got tied up, hurriedly made their way inside the room. Some of them were drowsy, but others were surprisingly alert.
Thomas asked Brenda if she was okay, but she gave him such a dry response as she crossed her arms that it led her to wonder what exactly broke out between them during their tipsy episode at the Crank party. Last time Sara saw them, Brenda was trying to kiss him, but now she was definitely pissed.
Newt was walking along with them, but Sara noticed that he didn't look hungover like the others.
How was that possible? She saw him drink that stuff.
Someone had a lot of explanations to give.
"Glad to know you're alive," Newt told her, no double meaning intended. Just a genuine assurance that the other was well and breathing. The comment somehow really got to Sara, but she ignored it momentarily.
"Stop right there!" an angry voice screamed at them, and they saw that it was the same Crank that was holding a pistol the entire time they were luring the group into the dancing. Several others arrived at the scene with their signature rusty weapons.
The Gladers now each had a weapon of their choice, and they pulled them out just in time to outnumber and terrorize the Cranks before they dared try attacking again. Sara was so glad at least that went according to plan.
Minho and the others arrived just in time, and they rescued the others who were hallucinating, and Sara's weapons didn't get lost.
But maybe she shouldn't have celebrated so soon.
"Watch out!" she heard Newt's voice call as he looked behind her in terror.
A gunshot ripped through the air, heading straight at Sara from behind, and she didn't even realize the moment everything was playing out before her eyes, until she caught a glimpse of Newt. He collapsed to the floor after rushing right in front of her, shielding her from a shot that was intentionally directed at her.
They must've kept one of her weapons, because the only other guy who had a gun was the one that they had apparently threatened a couple seconds ago.
"Newt!" Sara whispered in a panic. Jorge snatched a pistol himself and shot the guy who struck Newt.
The others retreated slowly until they took off running, not bothering to deface the terrifying scowl on Jorge's face.
Sara rushed to Newt's side, and he groaned as he clutched his right shoulder, the blood seeping in between his fingers.
Shuck, shuck, shuck! What do we do? Newt can't die—shuck!
Minho took his shirt off and handed it to Sara, which she pressed onto Newt's wound. It was difficult to pry his hand off the wound even for a moment, due to the excruciating pain. She still managed to press the shirt over the bullet hole, however, with blood continuing to gush out. As soon as the fabric touched the wound, Newt hissed loudly in pain, making Sara flinch back in fear of hurting him too badly.
Clint and Jeff rushed immediately to her side to try and help. They carried him out of there and were fortunate enough to find an abandoned shelter nearby, where they set him down.
"Jorge, what do we do? We don't have the materials to treat him," said Sara, beginning to panic.
He grabbed her shoulders. "Listen, niña. I know how to take the bullet out. I'll get Brenda and we'll prepare everything we need for that. We'll see what happens then, and if he survives," he said.
Sara's eyes went wide. "If? Jorge!" She couldn't afford an 'if.' He had to live.
"He'll be fine!" he shouted back. Then he called Brenda over, and they began heating two knives until their tips were a burning, bright red.
Meanwhile, Minho was beating the klunk out of the guy who shot Newt, even though the guy had already been shot down by Jorge.
About an hour or two passed by without having any news of Newt, and it was more and more difficult to hide her apprehension. She overheard Jorge mentioning he was worried the bullet wound could catch an infection, and if that was the case, Newt might not even wake up in a really long time—that, or he could die.
But the panic didn't stop right there. A familiar noise broke through the air, sending a powerful wind overhead. Everyone craned their necks upward to stare at the huge berg flying overhead, lowering where Newt lay.
Sara made a run for it, but Minho grabbed her by the arm on time before she could even get to Newt. She watched in terror as Newt was lifted onboard, and the berg flew away, disappearing as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
She immediately ran to find a place behind the shelter, where she could be completely alone. Once she knew that no one was around or had followed her, she lifted up her long sleeve from her wrist to make contact with Rebecca and explain the situation. As she moved her sleeve, however, yet another circumstance accumulated to her anxiety.
Her wristband was gone.
Where could she have lost it? Or had the Cranks stolen it from her while she was unconscious? The latter seemed to be the most probable explanation, but she didn't even want to imagine what kind of problems that thing could cause in the hands of the wrong people.
She decided to reunite with the group and act as though nothing had happened while she tried to figure out what the heck she was supposed to do. For the moment, she figured she'd at least need to let Rachel know.
"You lost it?" she asked as soon as Sara told her, but she was unusually relaxed about it. Sara was expecting to get a long lecture about how irresponsible she was, but Rachel simply shook her head at her. "Just use mine in case we need anything."
"In case we need anything?" Sara asked, annoyed. "My freaking boyfriend got shot and now WICKED's taken him away—I'd say it's kind of an urgent call. I need to tell Becca!" She scowled at her, her hands on her hips.
"I'm sure she's the one who's trying to cure him, calm down." Rachel rolled her eyes at her. "Think of it as this: they're actually gonna cure him without the risk of an infection like Jorge mentioned," she reassured her.
Sara honestly didn't know if she should believe that or not. She wanted to, but didn't WICKED already know that they were missing? Both girls were even chased down right before their berg crashed.
Sara wondered why they hadn't come after them following that incident, but the more time they spent out there without getting caught, the better. That was why she couldn't help but think that maybe WICKED taking Newt was seriously bad news. What if they actually... killed him?
Over her dead body.
After a couple more hours or so of preoccupation, the berg returned once again, sending a wave of air all around the group before opening up their compartment just like the first time, and lowering Newt's body to the ground. They placed him exactly where he was lying before he got taken away, and then the berg took off again.
They all rushed over to see if WICKED actually did anything to him, then immediately noticed he was wearing clean clothes, and the bullet wound on his right shoulder was simply unheard of. There was absolutely no trace of an injury; it looked as if it'd never even happened. Good as new. Sara even noticed he had a new band of fabric wrapped around his right wrist.
Strange...?
Of course, Sara wasn't complaining about that. A wave of relief washed over her, and she gladly sat next to him to wait until he woke up as the others scattered around or went to sleep after the hectic couple of days they'd had.
In the meantime, Rachel eventually showed up to keep her company for a while. And now that Sara found the leisure time, she took the liberty to finally ask her, "So... the guy's pretty ripped, huh?" She smirked as she nudged Rachel's arm.
She gave Sara a confused frown before she said, "Yeah, I guess he's pretty athletic."
Sara grinned. "Are we talking about the same person?" she asked, raising her eyebrows, and trying to mess with her. It seemed to work since she totally caught Rachel off-guard, and it was hilarious.
"Oh, um... I don't know. Who were you talking about?" she asked, getting very uncomfortable suddenly.
But Sara shook her head and clicked her tongue disapprovingly at her. "Not gonna say it if you don't tell me first."
"Well, I just thought you meant Minho," she said matter-of-factly, but she bowed her head, hiding her face.
"Ha! Knew it," Sara laughed.
Rachel looked at her as if she were some immature little child, but Sara was totally enjoying herself. "Oh, shut up," said Rachel. "He just took his shirt off for a little bit, and then he put a spare one back on. Not a huge deal," she said, definitely trying too hard to dismiss the subject.
"You guys have much more in common than you think. Why do you think we call you the girl-version of his name?" Sara asked, and Rachel scoffed at her, yet it gave way for more teasing from Sara's part. "You have the hots for my best friend, don't you? Aw, you don't have to get all embarrassed," she cooed at her.
"No, absolutely not!" Rachel argued. "You should be embarrassed; you're gushing over another dude who's not even your boyfriend."
"No," Sara denied it, raising her finger. "I wanted to hear it from you that you like Minho," she admitted. "Besides, Minho's just a friend. And you tell me I should be embarrassed? You're the one ogling over a dude who's not your boyfriend."
She crossed her arms. That back-and-forth battle was one of the things Sara really missed doing with her friends. She loved playful arguments like those, but perhaps she did get carried away with them sometimes.
"Me?" Rachel looked slightly offended. "What's so bad about looking at a shirtless guy when he's got nice abs? I'm allowed to do that 'cause I don't even have a boyfriend."
Then Sara proceeded to say something that she probably shouldn't have said. "Oh really? Then where does Aris come into play?"
Rachel visibly stiffened, the anger rose to her face rapidly, and she was on her feet in a second, covering her face again. "He's not my boyfriend, and you don't know anything—how do you have the nerve to mention that?" She spat each word out with such resentment that it frightened Sara to the point where she regretted even having the thought originally.
Rachel furiously gritted her teeth and stormed off, leaving Sara speechless. Now, her curiosity about whatever happened between Rachel and Aris burst into flames, fueling it every time her commentary triggered an aggressive response from Rachel.
"Hey, you okay?" Minho asked her, looking at her suspiciously as she stormed right past him.
"Don't talk to me," she snapped at him, and he just looked at Sara with raised eyebrows as he walked over to go see Newt.
"What did you do to her?" he asked Sara, and she didn't know whether to assume he was playing around, or that he was demanding an explanation as if Sara had intentionally made her angry—which she probably did, but she didn't mean it like that. Rachel wouldn't tell her anything she wanted to know even though she somehow knew plenty about Sara.
"Nothing," Sara whispered. "She's like that."
Minho rolled his eyes, but he remained next to her, watching over Newt, who didn't look like he'd wake up anytime soon. Minho also tried to uncover Sara's face several times, thinking he could be slick enough to do so.
"I'll chop your hand off," she muttered.
However, she wanted nothing more than to be able to take that crap off and reveal who she really was.
She wanted Newt to wake up, she wanted to hug him, kiss him until her lips hurt. She was reaching the very edge of things, and she didn't know how much longer it would continue.
For the longest time, she wanted to avoid the subject, but she'd realized she understood Newt's perspective a lot more in those last couple of days. She would always reprimand him for having so many negative thoughts, but what if it was actually better to think of things the way they were?
Her communication with Rebecca was limited, and she didn't even think she really wanted to talk to the woman. Everything was messed up, with no bright light shining at the end of the path, no 'happily ever after' to seek. It seemed like their only happy time was in the Glade, and that was certainly saying something.
Newt was unconscious, her friends didn't get along as much, and they were all heading aimlessly to the middle of nowhere probably. They'd lost several boys to the Scorch, everyone's hope was vanishing into thin air, they'd lost everything they had, and they always ended up being WICKED's toys. Some of them apparently weren't immune to the Flare, they'd been challenging death to a duel countless times, Chuck was still stuck in HQ with Rebecca, and Sara didn't even know if they were alright. Her uncle was still breathing on their necks—when was that gonna end?
The list of misfortunes could go on and on.
Glad to know you're alive, were a few of Newt's last words before jumping in front of the bullet. It really got to her that this was the kind of greeting one gave to people these days, and it was taken literally. They could die at any given moment.
After a while, Sara went to sit with Jorge and Brenda since there was nothing else for her to do in the meantime.
There was thick tension in the air, either from Aris and Minho, who seemed to despise each other so much that being in the presence of the other became nearly impossible; or from Brenda and Thomas, who somehow were pretty distant, and Sara had no idea why.
Hours went by, and she decided to sit alone once again, while everyone else lay down to sleep on the floor. She didn't know what was gonna happen the next day, and all her problems were giving her a headache, which took any notion of sleep away from her. She'd lost count of how many times she'd gone through the same klunk.
"Ahem," she heard someone clear their throat. At that point, Sara didn't think she would return, or even talk to her ever again.
"What, are you gonna yell at me? Sorry for getting in your business earlier, but look, I'm tired. Can we do this tomorrow?" Sara creased her forehead and squinted her eyes as she looked up at her, almost pleading for her to go away.
"Alright, just listen. I'm sorry," Rachel quickly replied. And after a long, awkward pause, she finally opened up. "Aris and I used to like each other. We were like... the Newt and Sara of Maze B. We never really dated, we just hung out a lot. But he has different opinions about this whole WICKED thing, and I honestly tried making it clear I couldn't continue with him if he sided with them. And to think... it's nothing compared to what's to come..." She paused, and Sara perked up at that last sentence.
"What's to come?" Sara's voice trembled.
Rachel hesitated. "Just sayin' —we don't know what could happen. We just gotta be prepared for the worst." Her eyes were shifty, and she didn't even seem as sure of herself as before. "I just know that between Aris and I, there won't ever be anything else."
"Yeah, you're probably right," Sara mumbled, then added, "hey, it's probably not my place to say this, but... I think you and Minho would get along pretty well. I know that shank, and I think he might have feelings for you."
Rachel gave her a small smile. "I don't really know how to feel about him though. I feel like I hate him and wanna kill him most of the time... but then sometimes it's not so bad with him, you know?" She furrowed her eyebrows, and her face was full of concentration, as if she were in a battle with her own emotions. Sara felt that.
"Newt's the same way. That's exactly how it happened. How we happened," Sara chuckled, then she waved her hand around, as if making an announcement. "That's all you heard in the Glade back then: 'Newt and Sara are arguing all the time,' and then suddenly it's like 'hey, it's the Glade couple,' you know," she added, smiling at the memories, then she burst out laughing as she saw Rachel's face. "Sorry, that's a horrible way to put it, but what I mean is, maybe what you're trying to avoid is probably what you need. I learned it the hard way. Who knows?" Sara shrugged.
She would honestly like that. Minho deserved to be happy as well. They all did. And there truly was something special between Minho and Rachel.
"We'll see. I'm not one to base things on illusions. We just gotta be prepared for anything, I mean, they all think we're Cranks past the Gone. What if we get caught? If things don't work out, well... at least I won't get hurt a second time," Rachel admitted with resolve. She was a tough shank, and Sara had learned to recognize that rather quickly.
"Yeah, well, kind of ironic when WICKED made everyone live by illusions for years," Sara confessed, revealing a bit too much of the bitterness that'd been accumulating inside of her. She paid no heed to that however, and she pulled out her favorite knife from her holster, staring at it in full detail. "We had a good life before... and the bastards just ruined it."
"You okay?" Rachel asked her, a sudden tone of worry lacing her voice. Sara ignored her question as she played around with the blade, eyeing it and placing it next to the skin on her arm. "Whoa, okay," Rachel mumbled, reaching out to take it from her, but Sara swerved her hand back, clutching her knife with force.
Sara waved the dagger around, then pressed it dangerously against her skin once again, without perforating the skin.
"Newt's right," Sara seethed. "I'm tired. Aren't you?" Her lip trembled and so did her hand as she held that dagger against her skin. "The world's messed up... so why live when we can't fix it—when we can't fix what it did to us?"
"What are you doing?" Rachel began to get seriously concerned for her, and probably for her own safety.
But Sara wasn't finished. "Maybe it's better he hasn't woken up, so he doesn't have to see any of this. And even if he woke up, he doesn't know who I am, and he wouldn't care about anyone else unless it's his girlfriend—"
"Actually, I beg to differ."
Sara froze in place. She darted her eyes toward Rachel, only to notice she, too, had stopped moving, and her eyes were wide.
Shuck.