Disclaimer:

*Sings 'Stressed Out' by Twenty-One Pilots the entire time I'm writing this chapter*

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Newt was called to lead after that, which of course meant I was coming with him. The two of us draped both of our sheets over each of our bodies so we'd have double the protection, but even that didn't help much. We were lucky that the sun was going down. It drained the sky of color and painted purple hues across the horizon, something the artificial sun in the Glade had never been able to capture the true beauty of. It made me even angrier after thinking about the Maze.

"What do you think we'll find at the town?" Newt asked me, voice hoarse from the dry air. "Personally, I think it'll be nothing but a few remaining Cranks and the rest'll be wasteland. No point in gettin' our hopes up."

I shrugged in response. "I don't know. I mean, it'd be nice to have some sort of break when we get there. Something tells me that's not gonna happen. Why send us here if the only challenge was heat and some people?"

Newt turned to the other side as he coughed. The sand was getting everywhere even with no wind- into our eyes, our hair, and our lungs. I was starting to miss the dewy grass in the Glade with how barren the Scorch was.

Darkness fell and we continued on. The temperature started dropping fast. A distant memory of geography told me that it was how deserts usually were- unbearably hot during the day and freezing at night. Pretty soon we'd be using the sheets as blankets instead of covers.

I kept my eyes on the sky for most of the duration of our walk. The stars started to scatter across the black sky, spilling across the inky void like sugar across obsidian. It was breathtaking to examine the twinkling white lights so high above us and yet seeming so close.

Then I heard a female's voice scream.

I stopped dead in my tracks, causing the sheet to slip off of me and my arms to be exposed to the cool air. The sound was definitely there. It was hard to distinguish above the rustling of packs, chattering of Gladers, and heavy breaths, but my ears could pick out that sound from anywhere. It sounded like a wailing, injured animal. The scream was guttural and originated from somewhere deep in the soul. It chilled me to the bone.

The others stopped moving as well, listening in on the screams. They echoed across the desert in such a way that made it almost impossible to determine where they were coming from. For all we knew, they could be coming from the town.

"You know what this reminds me of?" Minho asked in a whisper, edged with fear.

"Ben. Alby. Dylan. Me, I guess?" Thomas guessed breathlessly. "Screaming after the Griever sting?"

"You got it."

My heart started to beat a little faster at the mention of the monsters that had haunted us in the Maze. Being stuck in there overnight had been something out of a nightmare, and the final battle with them still haunted every waking hour. All of the lives we had lost to those monsters were too many to count. Garret, Max, Zart, Gally, Alby...all had perished by the claws of those beasts.

"No, no, no," Frypan groaned. "Don't tell me we're going to have those suckers here, too. I can't take it!"

"Doubt it," Newt responded more calmly. "Remember how moist and gooey their skin was? They'd turn into a big dust ball if they rolled around in this stuff."

"Well," Thomas huffed, "if W.I.C.K.E.D can create Grievers, they can create plenty of other freaks of nature that might be worse. Hate to say it, but that rat-lookin' guy said things were finally going to get tough."

"Thanks for the help," I mumbled half-jokingly. My theory was correct, after all. No way we wouldn't be faced with something horrible with W.I.C.K.E.D secretly breathing down our necks.

"Just saying it how it is. Sorry."

Frypan sighed. "How it is sucks big-time."

Thomas decided to ignore this comment. "What now?"

"I think we should take a break," Minho suggested. "Fill our little tummies and drink up. Then we should book it for as long as we can stand it while the sun is still down. Maybe get a couple hours' sleep before dawn."

"What about the crazy lady that won't quit screaming?" Theo wondered with a hand rubbing his head. "It's making my head hurt."

"Sounds like she's plenty busy with her own troubles."

I couldn't shake off the feeling that something about her was terribly off. However, I couldn't exactly run away toward her with an empty, growling stomach and my legs begging for rest. Since Newt had been holding both of our packs (he insisted upon realizing that my hands were covered in dried blood still), he came over and spread our blankets over the sand so we could sit on them. Then he untied the sacks and let their contents spill out onto the fabric.

"What a feast," Newt deadpanned as he examined the poor selection of dried jerky, bruised fruit, raisins, and raw vegetables.

"I'll take it over nothing," I replied, picking up the tiny package of jerky and tearing it open as quickly as I could. The smell of the dried meat would've caused my mouth to salivate if it hadn't been so low on water.

"Woah, don't you want a drink first?" Newt asked, placing a hand over mine to stop me. He held up his bag of water with a raised eyebrow. Just looking at it made my cells yearn for it even more. The rational part of me reminded them we still had a little under a hundred miles to go.

"I'll be fine," I dismissed him with a shrug.

Newt passed the bag to me in a way that made me understand that he wasn't going to stop pestering me anytime soon. I sighed, accepting the water and opening the plastic bag just a sliver. Barely a stream came out until I zipped it closed and handed it back to him. Newt stared at me for a second before taking it back and having his own drink.

I found that I couldn't look away as he leaned his head back, holding the top of the bag above his mouth and squeezing to get the water out. My eyes zeroed in on his Adam's apple as he swallowed. I cleared my throat and averted my gaze back to the beef jerky in my lap.

Our snack time seemed way too short for any of our likings. Before we knew it, we were assembling our packs back together and heading on our way again. With the stars as our guide, we continued on the way to the silhouette of the town in the distance.

The water had done virtually nothing. Within mere minutes, my throat was back to being as dry as the sand beneath my feet. Ragged breaths escaped my lips as I ran at a consistent pace with Newt, whom I was sure was going a fraction of a bit slower for my sake.

"What was the Glade like?" I asked through breathless pants. "You know, before Thomas and I came."

Newt swallowed before responding. "Boring as all hell. Same routine every day; nothing exciting ever happened. We did have the occasional bonfire where Garret would sing and a kid named Otto would play the drums with a few pails. It was tranquil. Too tranquil."

Wow, I thought. No wonder Gally freaked out so much when we came and everything turned to klunk.

"I heard you used to be a Runner," I commented lightly, not wanting to upset him in these waters. I knew the subject was sore for him. "Were you good?"

A ghost of a sad smile appeared on his face as he ran. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess I was. I was the best before Minho was, even though he was the Keeper. That was before the limp."

I pressed my lips into a line and faced forward again. Now wasn't the time to ask him about that— neither of us was ready for it. I would have to ask him someday when it was just the two of us and he wouldn't have to worry about anyone else being around.

"Potty break," Minho called out as a sign for everyone to stop. "Bury your klunk and don't do it too close. We'll rest for fifteen then we'll just walk awhile. I know you shanks can't keep up with Runners like me and Thomas."

Okay, not fair. Thomas was a Runner only a few days longer than I was. I deserved just as much credit.

The urge to pee was causing me to almost bounce on my toes, but I wasn't about to do it among a ton of boys. It just didn't work like that for girls. I couldn't just pull down my pants and do it. So, instead, I sat down in the sand and focused my eyes back on the sky. My gaze roamed the mountains that had shrunk considerably since we'd been walking. Then I caught something: a dark shape just yards in front of our group, but not directly in our path. I quickly scrambled to my feet and pointed at it. "Look!"

"Wonder what it is," Minho mused in response, coming up beside me. His eyes were squinted more than usual as he struggled to make out what it was in the darkness.

"Looks like a house," Thomas provided.

"Wow, Thomas," Minho said sarcastically. "Thank you so much for that incredibly helpful piece of information. I would've never guessed it myself."

Immediately after that, the screams cut off suddenly like someone had pulled a plug. The figure of a girl stepped out from the door. All she did was stand beside the house, staring at us.

"Oh my God," I whispered in awe, my eyes widening. The outline of black hair around her shadowed head sent a surge of hope through me. What if it was Teresa? What if she had come back to us?

"You think it's Teresa?" Newt asked knowingly.

"Yeah," I replied at the same time Thomas said, "No clue."

I rolled my eyes. The lie was so blatantly obvious to me that I wanted to punch him.

"You think she was the one screaming?" Frypan questioned incredulously with his eyebrows raised. "It stopped right when she walked out."

Minho grunted. "Better bet she was the one torturing somebody. Probably killed her and put her out of her misery when she saw us coming." He clapped his hands to snap us all out of that depressing assumption. "Okay, then, who wants to go meet this nice young lady?"

"Me," I volunteered harshly, daring anyone to protest. Unfortunately, that technique didn't faze my brother.

"Shuck no," Thomas shot back almost immediately. His head spanned to the left so he could meet my gaze, eyes squinting. "You're staying here. W.I.C.K.E.D attacked you too, remember? What if she tries to?"

"Two is better than one," I argued, a crease of anger forming between my eyebrows. Thomas and I had basically been through hell and back. We both survived the Maze at night. I had been the first to charge at the Grievers so he could get to the controls. All of that proved that I was capable of protecting myself if need be. Why was he suddenly not trusting me?

Thomas shook his head. "Not in this case. Stay here. If anything happens, I'll call for help."

He turned and jogged toward the small building before anyone else could protest. I sighed and lifted my arms in a "What am I gonna do with him?" movement before letting them fall back to my sides with a slap. Something told me it was going to take a while, so I plopped back down in the sand.

Newt came and sat beside me with a grunt. He had his knees bent with his elbows resting on them as he turned his head to look at me. If there was one thing that was for sure, it was that he knew me way too well to miss the defeated expression hidden behind my neutral mask.

"Tommy's too stubborn to let you go into danger," Newt reminded me as he nudged my arm with his. "Teresa was taken from right under our bloody noses and you were knocked out. I think he's scared that you'll be kidnapped next."

I huffed. I knew he was right, but I was itching to go over there and see what was going on. Maybe that was one of the things Thomas and I had in common as twins- an unresting sense of curiosity that often got in the way of our logic.

"I remember a girl from Group B," I blurted out without really thinking. My eyes had been closed, and they snapped open to reveal an astonished expression on Newt's face. "Sonya was her name. We took fighting classes together. I think we might've been close."

Newt rubbed his upper lip with his thumb. "Sonya? Fighting classes? I don't remember any of that."

"Maybe I never told you," I surmised. "Maybe it had to be a secret or something."

Newt shrugged. "Maybe, but that does explain why you're so good at self-defense."

I nodded vaguely and toyed with my nails, which were already starting to get disgusting again from the lack of clean water to wash myself with. A thin layer of dirt had accumulated beneath them. Suddenly, a mental warning sign started to blare in my mind as the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. My nerves went on high alert. Something was wrong.

I turned and jabbed my elbow in the general direction of whatever was heading for me, my mouth forming an 'O' when a choking sound followed. I whirled around to see Newt grabbing his throat as his face flushed a violent shade of red due to lack of air. I had hit him right in the center of the neck, and hard.

"Newt!" I exclaimed, quickly getting up on my knees and trying to help him back to a sitting position. He was now lying half on his back with one elbow keeping him up. "I'm so sorry, but why did you do that?"

"I was trying to kiss your cheek!" he managed to squeak out through strangled coughs. My assistance was accepted and I pulled him back up from the sand, brushing off the grains on his shirt as he continued to fight to catch his breath. He coughed and removed his hands from his neck. I looked up at him as he grabbed mine and forced them back into my lap. "Dyl. Dyl, stop. You're not my mother. I'm fine."

"Right," I replied, sheepishly leaning back from him and avoiding his gaze. "Sorry."

A small smirk formed on Newt's face. "Could I still get that kiss, though?"

"Sure," I responded with a laugh. Immediately afterwards, Newt brought his face closer to mine and planted a chaste kiss on my cheek. It was terribly short but still sweet all the same.

"Get a room!" Minho shouted, causing some of the other Gladers to laugh from around us.

"No one asked you to watch," Newt countered with a raise of his eyebrows. Most of our company let out several 'oooh's' at that rebuke. Minho simply rolled his eyes and didn't reply.

All the while, I couldn't stop glancing at the shadowed building in the distance, hoping that my idiotic brother would be okay.

gif is newt being leader of the pack

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wow, what's this? an actual update within a few weeks? it must be a record!

questions:

-how do you think theo will react to jorge?

-if you were going to have brenda or teresa kill you while the other would protect you, who would you trust to keep you alive the longest?

-keeping in mind everything they've done for each other, would you rather have a friendship like dylan and theo's or dylan and minho's?

-imagine you can only pick one companion to get through the scorch with. which glader would you pick to help you through alive? (personally i'd pick minho)

pray that i'll update soon!! writer's block and lack of motivation sUck

+dedication: @SubjectB4theweirdo because they read both different and error in a day and that takes guts

-kristyn