Newt stared at the photo Thomas was holding. His mouth fell open and he blinked a few times.
After about thirty seconds, he stood up and turned around, running a hand through his hair.
It was Ava Paige.
The lady who'd been part of The Maze Trials. Thomas claimed she'd been kind before the Maze when he'd known her, but all Newt saw was the woman who locked him and the others in a Maze for three years. Someone who'd not tried at all to stop Janson.
Newt pressed the palms of his hand to forehead and let out a long creative string of curse words.
"I mean it makes some sense," Thomas said quietly. "And it does answer your questions as to who lived here and what happened to them. It was Ava Paige and her family. And probably some other WCKD employees."
Newt turned back and eyed the photo resting on the table. "I suppose you're right—" then a thought occurred to him. He cursed again.
"What?" Thomas asked. Newt started to pace and anxiously tug at his hair. "Isn't this good? Now that you know? It's what you wanted, wasn't it?"
"Thomas, if this was a place where lots of WCKD employees lived I hardly think this is safe."
Thomas tilted his head. "What do you mean?"
Newt shook his head and chewed on his lower lip as he sat down on a rock a little ways away from the table.
"Well we've been running from WCKD, yeah? We don't know for sure that they're through, they could still be out there somewhere. And if members of WCKD lived here then that could be very bad for us. We came here to be safe but what if some of them came back? What if they found us here? What would happen then?"
Nervousness flashed across Thomas' face for a moment. Then he shook his head and smiled and waved his hand in forced disbelief.
"Ava Paige is dead, Newt," Thomas said.
"As far as we know. Plus, if other WCKD employees lived here, then maybe they'd come back and they could alert WCKD if they did."
"If they're still alive, and if, WCKD is still a thing," Thomas pointed out.
"Might as well expect the worst, shouldn't we?" Newt countered. "We've gone through Hell already, what's to say we won't have to go back again? By this point, we should come to accept that bad things happen to us." He shook his head. "We've just got to be really careful."
Thomas laughed, though Newt detected some nervousness in the tone. "Newt, we've been here for over six months now. WCKD hasn't stormed us yet. In fact, no one's come. No Cranks, no wanderers, no one. Alright?"
"But they could. They could be gathering up remaining people as we speak, Thomas. Heaven knows how badly they wanted you and the other Immunes. They might want to try again. And if this place is still on their radar, they could come back here!" Newt stood up. "We need to tell Vince about this."
Newt started to walk off towards the main building where Vince was most likely going through that month's supplies, but Thomas caught his wrist.
"Newt, hold on," he said. Newt turned to look at Thomas.
"Tommy, this is something big. Even if it is 'nothing' like you say, Vince should know."
Thomas cast his gaze at the ground and his grip loosened on Newt's wrist. "I suppose... but I just don't think it's a big deal," Thomas said.
"Whether it's a big deal or a small deal that doesn't really matter, it's just the potential for being a 'big deal' that needs to be addressed." Newt gently tugged his wrist away. "I want everyone to be safe Thomas. I'm not saying to alert everyone in town, I'm just saying to tell Vince because he needs to know these types of things in case it ends up causing us a lot of trouble."
Thomas nodded slowly. "Okay...." Newt nodded as well and turned to continue to the Main building.
"Don't worry about it though, okay?" Thomas called. For the second time, Newt stopped and turned his head to look back at Thomas.
"Sorry?"
Thomas smiled softly. "You worry a lot. Too much for your own good. It isn't healthy. Tell Vince and let him deal with it alright? If something comes up he'd tell us, so just... enjoy being free. Don't worry about something out of your hands, okay?"
Newt looked at him for a moment. Thomas didn't seem to understand that he couldn't just simply stop worrying. It sucked, but once something came up like this, he couldn't just not worry.
But he appreciated Thomas' words.
"Yeah, alright," Newt said.
Thomas smiled and looked relieved.
Newt stood there for a moment before turning back. "See you later," he called, facing away, so for all he knew the words where caught in the wind, and he started walking again.
Later, he was in the infirmary getting Tylenol from the cupboard. His chest wound had flared up again and still stung as he looked through the medicine. It'd been over a month since it had last hurt him that badly, but a little while after he'd alerted Vince, it had shot up again. He just hoped no one had seen him limp to the infirmary. He was supposed to be able to lose the cane soon according to the med-jacks and there was nothing he wanted more than being able to not have to use the stupid stick.
He found the Tylenol near the back of the shelf and unscrewed the top.
He tipped onto its side and shook it until a small pellet fell into his palm. He tilted his head back and put his hand to his mouth letting the medicine fall into his mouth and he swallowed it. He screwed the top back on and put the bottle back into the cabinet.
He took up his crutch which had been leaning against the wall and turned off the lamp he'd turned on to see the labels.
He turned and walked out of the room and into the hallway. The sound of his footsteps and the small click of the crutch hitting against the floor sounded louder than usual. He decided his paranoia of someone seeing him was getting to his head and he just ought to get to bed as quick as possible.
He wondered how long it would take the Tylenol to kick in. He hoped not long at all, as his wound really was hurting a lot.
He pushed open the door to the outside and walked outside into the cool night air. It was probably past one in the morning by this point, but he'd wanted to make sure everyone was asleep before he went to get the medicine.
The moonlight was shining off the cobblestone streets and the sea wind howled through the passageways between buildings.
Newt was not the only one up —he could hear distant chatter in the courtyard a few streets over— which didn't surprise him. At the beginning of their time at the Village, Vince had set a curfew, in which everyone had to be in their barracks by ten o'clock. But the rules had grown looser and looser and the Village was starting to feel more and more like an actual town then a camp. Vince had been gathering supplies to build homes and buildings and other structures around the town. Some people were fixing up a place in the middle of town to make a green space— like a park.
Now really the only strict rule Vince had set was to not wander too far from the town or down the beach.
Newt looked at the buildings as he passed. Lately, Vince had also gotten everyone in the town (aside the children, of course) to help renovate the old shops and restaurants that had been there before the Flare and the Scorch of the sun. They'd been badly damaged, but with everyone putting in work, they'd manage to make them look alright. It made Newt smile, to see everyone working together so they'd have a better place to live.
It was also nice to meet the other people, after only being around a certain set of teenagers for years.
The Village was home to people of all ages. Members of Right Arm and their families, along with some of their friends who they'd taken with them. There were also the other teenagers from the other mazes. Newt had talked to many of them and gotten to know some of them fairly well. It was a general fresh breath of air. Being surrounded by teens for so long had been tiring. Especially the idiots he'd been around.
He was nearing his barracks and he crossed the street towards the looming building when a sudden thought struck him.
Something he'd said earlier rang in his head.
And if this place is still on their radar, they could come back here.
More specifically, the word radar.
WCKD had planted chips in all their heads. 'Course the majority had gotten them taken out, and Thomas had when they'd been in Denver, but Newt and Minho still had them. WCKD could use the chips to track them.
Newt's stomach twisted with anxiety. This wasn't good, oh no, this wasn't good at all.
He hastily pushed open the door to the barracks and hurried over to Thomas' bunk where he was sleeping peacefully. Well, not for long. He keeled down next to the hammock.
"Psst. Tommy. Wake up," Newt whispered and shook Thomas gently. Thomas didn't stir. Newt groaned and shook Thomas harder. "Thomas you bloody idiot wake up, will you?"
Something must have registered with him because Thomas grunted and sat up, rubbing his eye. "What is it, Newt?"
"Thomas Minho and I've still got the chips in our heads."
Thomas squinted with sleep as he looked at Newt. "So?"
"So, WCKD can ruddy track us! It doesn't matter if they come here or not by accident, they can still tell where we are because of those chips!"
Thomas sighed. "You're still on about this?"
"Yes!"
"WCKD is done, Newt."
"We don't know that for sure."
Thomas pinched his nose and closed his eyes. "Look, nothing bad's gonna happen, alright? We're safe here, the chips won't do WCKD any good. I'm sure if they're still around all their tech's ruined thanks to the fire. Just stop worrying."
"Thomas I can't—"
"Let it go, Newt. Just enjoy being away from WCKD okay!
"'Enjoying' it will do jack-shit if WCKD is still out there and they come for us—"
"Newt, stop okay! Just stop! Some of us don't want to worry anymore. And some of us would actually like to sleep!"
Their voices had grown louder and Minho stirred across the room. Thomas looked over at him quickly before returning his gaze to Newt.
"Just stop. WCKD is done and we want to live our lives. Get this stupid fantasy about WCKD out of your head and come back to reality. I don't care. I don't give a damn about this so will you just shut up?"
Newt stared at Thomas in shock. It had hurt, what he'd said. However, Newt didn't want to show this and closed his mouth in a straight line and focused his gaze. He locked eyes with Thomas.
"Fine. I'll leave you the hell alone. I won't cloud your mind with these obscure and ignorant thoughts." His face flushed with anger and he stood up. He turned on the spot and left, not looking back at Thomas as he fled the building. He made his way to the hill and collapsed under the tree. He had not calmed down in the slightest— in fact he was rather going in the opposite direction, his anger at Thomas only growing.
He turned and punched the tree as hard as he could. It hurt. He did it again.
Soon his knuckles were skinned and bleeding and stung like hell and it hadn't made him feel remotely better. He felt a drop on his arm and realized he was crying hot, angry tears. He wiped his face and his hand stung with the salt from the tears and the motion smeared blood across his face, but he didn't bother to clean it off.
He lied down on the grass, laying his head near the trunk of the tree and looked up through the branches and leaves and he could just barely make out the stars in the sky.
He fell asleep that way and aside from the tear tracks and blood staining his face, it was peaceful.
A/N: OH MY GODS IT TOOK ME SO LONG I'M SORRY.
I TOTALLY forgot to write the last few weeks. I've been kinda wrapped up in this series (its about the Marauders and REALLY good. It's by Pengiwen).
Welp here ya go now,
have a good day/night!