Y/n's POV
In the morning, I'm rudely awoken by Thomas screaming at a crow that was pecking at the scraps of food we'd salvaged. The others seem to have also fallen victim to Thomas' disturbance, and now we were all faced with the one thing we dreaded- reality.
"Jesus, T, calm down. It's just a bird," I grumbled, stretching my arms out with a yawn. "Y/n, it was trying to take the last bit of jerky we have left," he replies, staring me down. "Still, it's just a bird."
He pushes off his knee and rises to his feet. The refreshing morning sun illuminates the setting we'd slept in. In daylight, it looks much different to how it did last night. There's a spiralling dome above our heads, and we're surrounded by uneven slabs of concrete and other materials.
"Are they gone?" Newt asks, presumably talking about the zombified creatures we'd encountered. I'd almost forgot about those.
"Yeah, I think we're safe, for now," Thomas says, peering over the fallen pillar we were hiding beneath. "Okay, we should get moving."
"You don't have to tell me twice." I say, hopping to my feet and offering my arm to Chuck who was still cuddled up in a corner. I yank him harshly and he grunts slightly, a smile somehow still plastered across his youthful face.
"Fry, Winston, let's go." Thomas says as the rest of us begin to pick up our backpacks. Winston attempts to get up but, as soon as he clenches, he groans in pain. His stomach looks awful. The bandage is already drenched in blood and black goo, melting across his torso. Fry helps him up and we start moving. As we climb over the disproportionate terrain, I stay behind with Winston, offering him a leg up on the higher slants even though he protests.
When we reach the top of the ruins it becomes apparent that we're wandering through the remains of an abandoned city. The buildings are rusted and crumbling, most of them couldn't even be classified as buildings anymore. A large road runs straight through the middle, and that seems to be where we're headed.
It's full of rotting cars, with a small, barricaded space in the middle for us to walk through. I glance up at the buildings, in particular one who's roof seems to have caved in. Debris and wires cascade effortlessly down the walls. If it didn't look so dead, I might say it looked pretty.
Even the path that we're travelling on has sand. My boots still haven't recovered from yesterday, and now they were only getting worse. Small grains wormed their way inside, irritating my skin. This experience has really made me hate sand. It's coarse and rough and it gets everywhere, even in places I wouldn't have expected.
"What the hell happened to this place?" Fry asks, spinning around to face the rest of us. "I don't know," Newt replies. "It doesn't look like anyone's been here in a long time."
"I hope the whole world's not like this," Aris mutters, trailing slowly near the back of the group. He's right though. If the whole world is like this, would it really be worth it?
A rumbling sound, quiet yet persistent, stops Thomas in his tracks. It grows louder and louder until we all pause to examine it. "Woah, woah, hang on. Stop." Thomas says, stopping the remaining people who were walking. "Do you hear that?" He asks.
We all look around, searching for the source of the sound. As it looms closer, it begins to sound like an aircraft, whirring and inching towards us. Thomas ushers us all under a piece of concrete, "Get down! Everybody hide, hide! Get in here!"
Just as I'd thought, a large bug-shaped vehicle soars through the air above us, accompanied by two smaller helicopters. They separate around the buildings, scanning each one briefly before moving forward. "They're never gonna stop looking for us, are they?" Minho asks.
Instead of answering, Thomas hops back to his feet and surges back into movement. As per usual, we all follow. We climb over more wreckage, beads of sweat lining our foreheads as the day drags on. Winston stays at the back of the group, occasionally taking one of our hands when we offer it to him. I can't even imagine the agony he's feeling right now.
My wound stung, of course, but he'd practically been ripped to shreds. Unfortunately, the path leads us straight to another set of sand dunes that stretch for miles. The first one is an incredibly steep incline, and the others aren't much better.
The boys stop once they reach the top, peering out into the distance. I drop to my knees with a groan. "This is my life now. I've climbed up this hill and now I'm going to die upon it." I say dramatically. "Shut up, n/n, we've only been hiking for twenty minutes," Enzo replies, slapping me on the back before pulling me up to my feet.
In the distance, I can just make out the majestic outlines of mountains, reaching towards the skyline. Thomas points at them, "Those mountains, that's gotta be it. That's where we're going."
"That's a long way off." Newt says. "Come on, Newticus, it's not that bad! We can do that in a day or two," I say enthusiastically, taking a step forward. "N/n, you were literally complaining two seconds ago." He replies, eyeing me with his brows furrowed. "Shut up, limpy," I say, dragging him forward.
"Ugh, it's too hot out here," Minho complains, taking a step towards Newt and I as he wipes a sheen of sweat from his brow. "Probably cause I'm here." I reply cheerily over my shoulder. I can hear him groan behind me, but I don't really care. Someone's head slides along the ground by my foot, and I hear Thomas shout, "Winston!"
We all drop to his side, wiping the sand from his face and laying him on his back. Teresa holds his head up as the rest of us try and get him to speak. His breath is raspy and shallow, like he's choking on air. "What do we do?" Enzo asks, terror struck deep in his eyes.
Frypan and Minho string together two sticks, a piece of tarp and some other supplies to make some sort of stretcher. It's hard to carry, and can't be too comfortable for Winston, but it's the best we can do in the situation. I think about offering to carry him up some of the hills to give the others a break, but I know I wouldn't be much help.
Nestled below the sand are more decaying ruins of bridges and houses. It makes me wonder about the people who inhabited their city. What happened to them? Where did they go?
The stretcher gets too hard to carry, so instead, they resort to carrying Winston himself. Two of them take his torso whilst another two takes his lower half. He seems to be sleeping, which is good.
Teresa and I move at the front, both covering our faces with the scarves Chuck found. "You okay?" I ask her, noticing she's been quiet. "Huh? Oh... yeah, just thinking." She replies. "Really? What about?"
"Who we were before the maze. Do you really believe that there isn't anyone looking for us?" I fall silent. This was a topic I tried not to think about. It made me feel shallow, hollow, alone. I hated that feeling.
"I don't know." I reply in a small voice. "I do remember who we were in the maze, though. I remember how excited I was when we finally got another girl Glader, even if it was you." I say, and I can hear her chuckle. "I wasn't exactly expecting you to hold me hostage at our first meeting, but it was quite fun. I wish that was how I'd made my entrance to the Glade. It was badass. And hey, if there are people missing us, we're going to find them." I grasp her hand and we push forward, keeping the pace for the boys behind us.
The sandstorm grows and we decide to find shelter. We stumble across another pillar sticking out of the ground, providing a temporary slanted abode for us to rest. We pour the sand from our boots, and from the amount that came out we probably could've made a beach. Thomas stands upon a dune by himself, and the scene is so depressing that I just have to talk to him.
I stumble up the mound until I'm standing by his side. "Hey, T."
"Hey, n/n."
"Whatcha thinking?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, do you have a plan? I'm trying to be optimistic here but, I mean, come on, those mountains are pretty far away and we're down to our last two water bottles. Plus, Winston isn't getting any better."
"Let's think of a plan then," He says. I stare at his face whilst we think, and it contorts into the same expression he always makes before he's about to do something stupid. "Shut up," I say abruptly. "I didn't say anythi-" he begins, clearly startled. I cut him off, "You were thinking. It's annoying and doesn't help anything. Let me do it."
Unfortunately, he didn't listen to me and decided to come up with a plan. "What if we use one of the bottles to clean Winston's wound. Then at least it wouldn't get infected. Then everyone else could have one sip when we're almost there, just to keep them going. And we have lots of food so some people could trade their water rations for food or something."
I stare at him blankly for a few minutes. "Are you even listening?" He asks, shoving my shoulder. "Yes, dipshit, it just takes me a while to process so much stupid."
"What? What do you mean? I thought it was good." He says, clearly offended. "Thomas, that is an awful plan. Do you see how far away those mountains are? We have like ten people; a single bottle won't fuel that. And you're definitely overestimating the amount of food we have, especially with Chuck. Also, water won't disinfect a wound, that's what disinfectant is for. If anything, water would just make it worse."
"Alright then, genius. What's your plan?"
"I dunno. Whistle and hope a gang of magic unicorns come so we can fly away on their wings?" I say with a shrug. His brows furrow and he squints at me. "What?" I ask, eager to end this stare-down. "Are you clinically insane or just incredibly annoying?" He asks.
"Hm, probably both." I turn and walk away, not wanting to listen to him drag on any longer. As I sit back down in the sand, Teresa stands and trenches over to Thomas. I watch their conversation from the corner of my eye. He seems... tense. Like she's said something that either upsets him, or he disagrees with it. Maybe both.
"How're you feeling, y/n?" Enzo asks, seating himself down beside me. "I'm fine. It doesn't hurt too bad anymore, just stings." He leans his head on my shoulder. "What are we doing? I mean, how did we get here? It's all gone so quick. It feels like only yesterday that you were stealing lollipops for me from Frypan." I pat his head. "Yeah, I know how you feel."
"How's it looking?" Newt asks the two figures at the top of the hill. "Just a little further," Thomas replies. "Bullshit." I say under my breath with a laugh. Enzo shoves me until I stop chuckling.
A bang, loud and clear, rings through our ears. My breath turns shallow and fast, and my hands find my stomach, grasping it as the sound coaxed memories from the back of my mind. It was a gunshot. I was so overwhelmed, I didn't even know who it had hit, if anyone.
"What the fuck?" Enzo calls, standing up and running over to a group of boys standing around Winston. "Winston, what are you doing, man?" Fry yells. I stumble over to them, watching as Frypan wrestles with Winston for a gun. The same gun he'd taken earlier. He takes it off him, taking a few steps back so that he's out of reach.
Winston flips onto his front, on his hands and knees. He reaches an arm out, attempting to take back the gun. "Give it back, please." He begs, panting heavily. "Winston, are you okay?" Thomas asks, kneeling beside him. He retches and a thick substance of black bile pours from his mouth onto the golden sand, making him cough.
It was bad. He was changing too quickly. He flips onto his back, each breath looking more painful than the last. "It's growing... inside me." He says, pulling his shirt up to reveal the massacre across his stomach. Teresa has to cover her mouth and look away. It's completely shredded, black and red blurring into one. The cut had become deep and the skin around it was hard and cracking.
He stares at Thomas, pleading with his eyes to be put out of his misery. It was something I'd never thought I would witness and hope to never see again. Someone genuinely begging to die, all in the hopes that they won't transform into a monster. "I'm not gonna make it. Please, please." He says quietly, reaching for Fry once again. "Don't let me turn into one of those things."
I step forward, taking the gun from Frypan's limp hand. With tears in my eyes I kneel down, grasping Winston's hand in mine and placing the gun on his chest. I can't let him turn, I would never forgive myself. If I was in his position, I'd be doing the exact same. "Thank you, n/n. Hey, remember when we first met... and you started going crazy?" He says in between breaths.
"I thought you were going to kill bark." I squeak, sniffling and giving him a sympathetic smile. "I miss him," he says. "So do I." I reply. "At least I'll get to see him soon."
I cup his face with my hand, reminiscing about our friendship. He was one of the first people I'd met, one of the first people to be kind to me. Although we ran in different circles, he was always easy to talk to and joke around with. It was heart breaking to see him like this.
I kiss him on the cheek before standing back on my feet. "Goodbye, Winston." I say, a lone tear dripping sadly onto the sand. I turn and walk away, slinging a backpack over my shoulder. Chuck trails behind me whilst some of the others say their goodbyes.
I wish someone could stay with him, so he doesn't have to do it alone. But that's a burden too heavy for anyone to carry. Instead, we can hold him high in our memories and get out, for him.
We walk over a dune but pause when we hear the sound. Although it was quick, a split second, it feels like it lasted hours. I turn around and walk to the back, pulling Fry into a hug and holding his head. He vibrates against my shoulder, and I can tell he wants to cry, but I know he won't. I stay at the back with him, just in front. When I turn my shoulder, I can see that he's left a gap as we walk in the place that Winston would be standing in.
We continue the treck in silence, everyone focussing on taking another step forward. As the day drawls on, the line rearranges, and Chuck and I are left at the back like always. I can tell something's wrong; he's been staring at me for a bit longer than usual. "What's wrong, Chuck?" I ask, resting my hand on his shoulder.
"How did your stomach rip open again? I thought they fixed it." He asks. I wish he had been distracting himself with something other than my injuries, but it's better for us to talk about this than what just happened. "My locket came loose, and I had to jump back over the glass for it."
"Why didn't you just leave it?"
"It means a lot."
"But, why do you still wear it?"
"Because I'll love Gally forever, and this reminds me of him."
"How long is forever?"
"Not long enough..."
He shuts up after that, and we keep moving forward until we arrive at some abandoned shipwreck. It's too dark to keep walking, so we decide to rest here for the night. Enzo somehow manages to start a fire, and we all sit around it.
"I thought we were supposed to be immune." Minho says, fiddling with a piece of park. "Not all of us, I guess." Teresa replies. "If Winston can get infected, we should assume so can the rest of us," Newt says. "I never thought I'd say it, but I miss the Glade," Frypan mutters, his eyes still glazed with tears. "So do I," I reply.
I flip over onto my side with my back facing the rest of them. I curl into a ball and squeeze my eyes shut, desperate to fall asleep.