What Ever Happened To Newt? ||The Maze Runner

Jett, Radar, Newt, Stevenson and Josephine sat around four lit wax candles. The room was dim and the heavy wind made the setting feel like a horror film from long ago. The mill was compact though and no wind could get in and hopefully, no cranks either. They ate carefully because they didn't want to waste the food in case a long journey was in there mitts. They spat sunflower seeds into an empty can of chunkie soup that they all shared. It was an awful meal.

"So Denver?" Radar piped up. "That's where we go?"

"Yes." Stevenson nodded.

"Why Denver?"

"Possibly the only safe city left." Newt added.

Jett smiled at his knowledge. "Maybe we will all fit into a lanky apartment, kind of like the cabin."

Stevenson chuckled. "Perhaps."

"Have fun with that." Josephine rolled her eyes, making everyone realize that she is still a crank.

"Sorry Josephine." Newt mumbled and she giggled, an annoying, high-pitched giggle.

Jett rolled her eyes in disgust, she did not like this crank, nor did she trust her. Maybe she hated her, maybe just maybe.

"I think I'll go to bed now." Jett stood up, not making eye contact with the crank.

"I'll keep watch." Josephine and Stevenson said at the same time.

"Good." Jett walked towards the stairs. "Josephine can keep watch and Stevenson can keep watch of her."

Jett found herself laying on a cott, listening to the wind. She watched the gleam of the candles shadow from downstairs. She crept over to the small dresser in the corner and ripped opened a drawer to find a pencil and a pierce of ripped paper, so she wrote.

Claire Jett Wright

My name is Claire Jett Wright, I'm seventeen years old. I'm from the state of Utah. I used to live with my mother, sister and father in a big house by a lake. Kelsey is my sister, Kelsey is alive. My mother is Dr. Wright and belongs to an organization called WICKED, WICKED is bad. My father died in a car accident on July 29th 2008. The sun flares hit the earth and killed humanity, the flare broke out and made it worse. I am immune. Not everyone is immune. My friends are lost in the scorch. I am alive.

"Hey." He startled her. "What are you writing?"

"Nothing." She placed it behind her back.

"I won't ask again." Newt said.

"Okay." Jett felt awkward, she wanted to talk to him but didn't know what to say.

"How are you holding up?" He asked.

"Pretty well, I mean my sister could be dead for all I know."

"Could not is." Newt reminds her.

"Yeah, yeah." Jett felt a smile creeping up on her. "What about you?"

"My whole life has been flipped upside down." He shrugged. "I think I'm holding up pretty well."

"I can't imagine what it was like in the maze." Jett mumbled. "Isn't it weird though?"

"Hmm?" Newt questioned.

"How my mother works for WICKED and how I could of been put in the maze-" Jett stopped to think out her words. "But I ran and you were put in the maze."

"I dunno." Newt said lowly. "I don't like thinking about that shuck place."

"What about...what's his name Tommy? Do you think about him?"

Newt felt his body shut down. "Yeah, I do."

"I didn't mean to sadden you." Jett told him.

"I told him that I hated him but that was because the crank part of me came out-" Newt covered his mouth quickly, gasping with what he had to say.

"The crank part?" Jett questioned. "Newt you said you weren't immune and you stayed with cranks for protection, you didn't say you caught the flare."

"It hasn't effected me for five shucking days!" He shouted then quickly whispered. "I'm fine."