When We're Older- The Maze Runner (Newt)

rat man

NEWT

   "Good plan, Thomas."

   We were all hanging from our feet as Minho blamed Tommy for the mess we were in. The ropes were tied tightly around our ankles as the seven of us swung high in the air—the amount of space between us and the cement floor was breathtaking.

   "Just see what the man has to say." He mocked, making me hold back an eye roll. "Really workin' out for us."

   Tommy groaned, probably loathing himself at the moment as well. "Shut up, Minho."

   From my left, Mae let out a chuckle, probably louder than she intended it to be, due to the echo that vibrated off of the walls. We all looked towards her, and she rolled her eyes, scoffing, "He's right..."

   We ignored her as Thomas grunted and reached his hands out as far as it would go, tucking in his stomach and trying to reach the string around his feet. "Maybe I can reach the...the rope." He let out a huff as he crunched upwards, groaning and straining his muscles. He fell back down and threw his arms around in frustration, Mae giggling again.

   I looked over to her and shook my head, moving my hands to my forehead and running them down my face in annoyance. This was all so bloody stupid. We came here because we thought that we had finally made it to The Right Arm...Mae got shucking struck my lightning for god's sake, and all of that was just thrown down the drain as Jorge shoved us up here with no intention of coming back to get us down.

   It felt as though my heartbeat was in my brain as the world around me started to spin. I shut my eyes and took a deep breath, willing myself not to barf or do anything embarrassing like pass out as the blood rushed through my veins.

   "Enjoying the view?" The familiar voice taunted. I opened my eyes once again and turned my head, seeing as I had begun slowly spinning in the other direction. Jorge took slow, menacing steps towards us as he turned a black baton in his hands as though he was planning to do something with it.

   Thomas sighed, "What the hell do you want?" He spoke the words we were all wondering, but he probably could've said it more nicely.

   Jorge's chuckles echoed throughout the room, sending goosebumps up my back. Or maybe that was just from the blood rushing to my head. He started to talk again, poking Tommy in the stomach with the stick. "That is the question."

   He walked along the area that we were hanging from, almost teasing us. "My men want to sell you back to WICKED." He stopped and stared into Thomas' eyes. "Life has taught them to think small. I'm not like that."

   I furrowed my eyebrows at the words, feeling more confused with every sentence he spoke.

   "Something tells me that you're not either." He finished, taking a step back and tilting his head so that he was looking down on us, mostly like everyone else we've come in contact with has.

   Minho made a strange noise from behind me. "Is the blood rushing to my head, or is this shank not making any sense?"

   "Maybe we're just going crazy." Mae added, causing the two of them to break out in low giggles. I punched the bridge of my nose and mentally face palmed myself for being friends with Minho, and deciding to be in a relationship with Mae. But I guess they were worth it, no matter how oblivious they were to certain situations.

   Jorge sent the two a smug look as their laughter died down, but he turned back to Thomas, pointing his baton in his face again. "Tell me what you know about the Right Arm."

   I furrowed my eyebrows and turned my body towards him more, remembering the words he spoke when we first told him where we were going.

   "I thought you said they were ghosts." I spoke, wondering if this guy had tricked us, or was just simply messing with our brains like every single bloody person in the world wanted to.