The First Runner: Endgame

Jess POV

The screech of metal against metal echoed in my ears as I watched Thomas work the cutting tool on the train door. Sparks flew, and the door creaked before it finally gave way with a loud bang. The air was thick with the smell of rust and burning fuel. I could hear the rush of adrenaline in my veins, the weight of what we were about to do crashing down on me.

As soon as the door was open, I didn't waste a second. I was the first to step inside, my boots thudding against the worn wood of the train's floor. The stench hit me—stale air, sweat, fear. I forced myself to keep moving. Newt and Harriet followed close behind.

The train car was dim, the only light coming from the small windows that lined the walls. I could feel the eyes of the kids on us—some scared, some hopeful. My fingers itched, wanting to reassure them, but there wasn't time.

Thomas moved ahead of us, his eyes scanning the faces in the dim light. He stopped near the middle of the aisle, his eyes narrowing as he locked onto two familiar faces.

"Aris. Hey, you guys okay?" Thomas' voice was a little more strained than usual, but it softened when he spotted the condition of his friends.

Aris was sitting slumped against the wall, looking worse for wear. His face was bruised—his eyes dark and swollen, and his lip was split open. Sonya was next to him, but she looked like she'd seen better days, too. Her skin was pale, almost sickly.

"Yeah, we're okay," Sonya said softly, her voice weak.

Thomas cursed under his breath, his gaze flicking from Aris to Sonya. "Jesus, you guys look like hell."

I moved forward, my stomach turning. I wanted to ask them what happened, but I knew better. I wasn't the one who could fix this.

Harriet was already by their side, pulling Sonya into a tight hug. Her shoulders shook slightly, but I knew she wasn't just crying; she was relieved.

I glanced at Thomas, giving him a quick nod. We both started moving down the aisle, stopping briefly to reassure the kids sitting on either side of us. "You're safe now," I told one kid who looked barely old enough to be away from his family. "You're alright. We're here to get you out."

My eyes met Thomas' as he scanned the faces of the other kids, his expression hardening with each passing second. He stopped near the end of the car, his brow furrowing.

"He's not here," Thomas muttered, turning to look at Newt and me.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. Minho wasn't there. I had feared this. Minho was the reason we'd come, and now he was missing. "Damn it," I hissed under my breath, my hands curling into fists.

Once we made sure all the kids were free, I headed straight to my room. The door shut behind me with a dull thud, and I quickly peeled off my jacket. My muscles ached from the tension, but I forced myself to calm down. I tugged my hair out of the tight ponytail that had kept it out of my face, running my hands through it to loosen the knots.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror for a few moments, my mind racing. But there wasn't time to think about it.

As I stepped back into the hallway, I saw Vince talking to some of the new arrivals. He looked a little too intense, his posture rigid as he spoke. I didn't have the energy to bother with that, so I moved on toward the med room.

When I walked in, it was chaos. The room was crowded with medics and survivors, voices overlapping in a flurry of hushed conversations. I could see Aris, Sonya, and Harriet over in one corner, but no medic had made it to them yet. I sighed, grabbing a med bag from the counter, my mind focused on the task at hand.