Chapter Twelve
"theories"

❣︎

The next morning, Thomas seems organized again.

Not in a good way, though.

It's just that he's no longer sad. He now fully believes Newt is alive–he believes we will find something today. Something good.

He's walking around with regained energy, looking beneath stones we already inspected until we reach the same spot as last night.

"Okay. We need to lift every stone and clear this whole place up. Is it possible his dead body moved? No, so we technically only have to look around this area. If he's not here, then he's somewhere else."

"Where do you plan on going after this if you're not going to search through the entire city?"

"The Scorch. Any kind of abandoned place, like that mall, remember?"

"Yeah," Aris mumbles, shuddering at the memories. "That's dangerous, Thomas. It's full of Cranks. They'll devour you–they nearly pushed Newt off that balcony back there. We'll lose each other out of sight and get teared apart–"

"We have guns now."

"Winston had a gun," Aris points out. Something about the way Thomas's face twists tells me that Winston's story is awful.

"We were inexperienced back then. And we're immune. If one of us gets bitten, it'll be fine–"

"You don't know that!"

"Look." Thomas sighs. "We will look through the Scorch. If you don't want to come with me, just wait at the boat, but I'm not leaving until we find him."

"It's possible we already found him."

"No. There's no stab wound."

"Anything is possible at this point, Thomas."

"Exactly. So let's go–"

I walk away from them. It'll be a waste of time to engage in an argument like that. They're not actually fighting, just bickering, but either way, no one has time to read what I have to say during a heated moment.

I check the ground for other signs of blood, corpses, the uniform, maybe a note–any clue at all. Last night, I couldn't sleep–as often–and went through some theories. It is possible that someone helped Newt fake his own death, meaning they were in danger. Or maybe it's just a coincidence that the corpse was wearing the exact same uniform and was lying on that exact spot.

Maybe the ashes I'm standing on are Newt's. Who knows? This mission is somewhat impossible.

The note was vague. Why was it vague? The way everyone talks about Newt betrays that he was important to the group. That doesn't immediately mean he was the smartest one, but he was clever for sure. Why would someone clever only write down two names? And why Aris?

Why was there no explanation? If it would've been a trap, they would've added more information, wouldn't they? And mentioning Aris makes no sense if it's a trap, because Thomas is the only firm believer.

Newt must've been in a hurry as he was writing it. Or rather, in danger. It makes sense.

No. I close my eyes to imagine the note once again. The names were written in a small font, as if he wanted to write more, but didn't get the chance to.

He wrote with something similar to charcoal. It connects with the fire.

When I accidentally wrote on the note with a pen, I realized how easily the ink spread across the surface. The material was fragile, and now it makes even more sense why Newt's message was brief—he couldn't risk it becoming unreadable.

But the real question isn't just why the note was vague, but what Newt was trying to tell us through it.

What if he wasn't in a hurry, but he calculated all of this? The small font. The use of charcoal, perhaps from the fire. The specific choice of two names: Thomas and Aris's.

Thomas, I remind myself, was Newt's closest ally in many ways, and he's the one who ended up with the note. He must've known it would reach Thomas somehow. But Aris? Was he signaling that Aris was involved in something deeper?

He didn't even have time to clarify what the names meant. Was he interrupted? Did he think the rest was obvious? Or did he intentionally leave it open-ended to make us question? Or is my previous theory correct and did he want to warn us about something?

I look down at the trails of ashes below me. That's it.

He didn't write with charcoal, he wrote with ashes.

No, never mind. The letters are too small: it's impossible he wrote it with his finger. A stick? No, it's too precise. Too sharp.

I squeeze my eyes shut again, focusing on the image of the note. I could ask Thomas for it, but now that I'm in the zone, I don't feel like it.

The letters were clearly written, not engraved, but their print was rather engraved. You're able to feel texture when you run your finger across the letters, though you wouldn't notice at first, because you're too busy watching the way the letters smudge.

He wrote it with a knife.

That explains the texture. But writing with a knife still occupies a certain skill. Was Newt able to carve well? If yes, then it's possible.

"You okay?" I startle when Aris suddenly appears next to me.

Quickly, I nod and tap the side of my head. Just thinking.

"And? Got us something to work with?"

I shrug, doubting it.

"Alright. Let us know if you do."

Aris lingers for a moment longer, studying me as if he's trying to read my thoughts. Then he sighs and crouches next to me, brushing his fingers against the ash-covered ground.

"You're good at this. Thinking. Analyzing. Whatever you call it. If anyone can figure this out, it's you."

His words catch me off guard. I busy myself by brushing ash off my hands, avoiding his gaze as always, and nod awkwardly.

"Indeed," Thomas calls from a distance. "You're good at this."

I nod at him as well, but it's different. His praise feels detached, lighter–it doesn't get me as flustered.

❣︎

We're back on the boat after twilight has fallen. We didn't find anything. Not physically, at least. I'm writing all my theories down in a notebook so I can share them with the boys later.

The idea to practice my speech keeps lingering in my mind. It would be handy in situations like these, and I guess I'm okay with talking in front of Aris and Thomas, for the sake of Newt.

I look out of the window. Thomas is sitting at the front of the boat, the wind flaring up against him. Aris is on the deck with a bucket of sea water, attempting to wash himself properly. He holds a wet cloth and uses some kind of soap to drag it across his arms and legs. When his shirt vanishes off his torso, I look back down and continue writing.

It's decently warm inside the boat's cabin. Apart from candles, we have a heater. And if that wouldn't be enough, we have the bed with two blankets and pillows. We still take turns at night, but decided to divide it over two people.

The first night, we realized rotating with three people was inconvenient. Everyone was equally tired and falling asleep in such a short period of time is hard.

Our new system is nicer. Yesterday, Thomas and I both held watch for four hours as Aris slept. Today Thomas is supposed to rotate with Aris, and tomorrow, Thomas sleeps while Aris and I rotate.

Once I'm done writing, I boil fresh water from a bottle so we can eat pasta instead of food from cans. We have no sauce, but it's fine. I honestly prefer pasta without sauce.

By the time it's done, Aris has already returned from washing himself. He sees the food, nods, and calls Thomas without hesitation, who sits down in a better mood than last night.

"We didn't find anything near his place of death. We will look through the other remains of the Last City–"

"I thought you said we'd only inspect his place of death and then head to the Scorch," Aris interrupts.

"Well, I changed my mind. We will search the whole city, then move to the scorch. How far away are the Mazes? I imagine he could be there."

"Your fantasies must be crazy if you imagine that," Aris mumbles below his breath. "Let's just keep in mind that he can't be far. He must've released the bottle here, near the coast."

"Woah– we haven't even searched the coast yet!" Thomas jumps up as if we need to inspect it right now.

Aris pulls him back down. "Tomorrow. But, as I was saying, you're not going to drag us into the Scorch. If he's not near the coast, in the Last City, or a mile within that area, we will give up, you hear me?"

"No. As I said when we left, we are not stopping until we find him. I'm not stopping, at least."

"Yes, you made that pretty clear. But you have to think about the people you brought with you."

Thomas pulls a face, motioning at me. "Adelaide hasn't protested so far. Maybe you're the problem."

"How can she possibly protest if you're not even paying attention to things she's trying to say?"

"She could've hit me in the face a long time ago. Pulled my hair, let me trip–"

Aris buries his head in his hands. "Never even mind. I suggest we finish eating and go to sleep. Who keeps watch first?"

"You," Thomas says.

"Sounds fine to me."

It's quiet, but only for a minute.

"Don't you feel left out sometimes?" Thomas asks me.

Frowning, I shake my head.

"Really? I would."

"You're obsessed with talking, of course you'd feel left out. I think she prefers listening," Aris states, and I nod in agreement.

"Yes, okay, but if you'd be able to talk, would it be different?" he wonders.

I shrug. I'd probably engage a bit more, but not a lot.

Thomas falls silent, clearly lost in thought. Aris continues to eat in a quiet manner, his eyes scanning the horizon through the small, round windows of the boat. It's peaceful for a moment, the only sounds being the waves lapping against the boat's sides and the occasional murmur from either of them.

After a while, Thomas shifts, restless once again. "I think the more I think about it, the more I'm convinced Newt's still out there."

"Trust me, we know."

I wonder if Newt is out there somewhere, or if he's... something else entirely. The note keeps swirling in my mind, the briefness of it, the names, the ashes.

Aris glances over at me. "You think we're gonna find him?" he asks, his voice almost too gentle, as though testing me.

I don't know. But the more I think about it, the more I'm leaning toward something darker. Maybe Newt left us a message, but not the kind we thought. Maybe we're looking in the wrong places, thinking that what he left behind would be obvious, when maybe it's something that needs to be pieced together like a puzzle.

"We'll find him. I know we will," Thomas says.

I glance at him, my eyes narrowing slightly. Finding Newt seems to be the only thing that will fix whatever hole has been left in him. And yet, as much as I want to believe him, I'm not so sure.

Aris sighs, rubbing his temples. "We go back after searchin the coast, the Last City, and another mile past, remember? No wandering off to random places."

"You're so negative," Thomas mutters.

"It's called being realistic," Aris snaps back.

The coast, the Scorch, the city, the Mazes—Thomas is fixated on these places, but what if they're not the key? The note said nothing about them. It mentioned only two names. Could those names hold the real clue? Maybe I should try puzzling over the letters of their names. That could explain why Aris is mentioned.

I make a sleep sign by resting my cheek on my hands. The boys wish me a good night. After I've brushed my teeth and got dressed in my pajamas, I crawl beneath the sheets.

Thomas lies down next to me a few minutes later, both of us clearly keeping as much space between our bodies as possible. Soon, I fall asleep.

❣︎

"Adelaide?"

I jolt awake, gasping for air. My hands are trembling as I sit up in the bed, my heart racing. I feel someone close, just next to me.

The memories hit, just like they do almost every night. The Banishment, the Shades, the screaming, the ice–

"You're okay," Aris assures in the dark. If he's next to me, that means I slept at least four hours without waking up. That's good. Plus, I think I prefer Aris over Thomas. Everything is a bit awkward with Thomas and I don't know how he'd react to this.

I wonder if he even likes me. And if he does, in what sense. It's possible he cares about my observation skills and nothing else.

I nod quickly, trying to steady my breathing. The flashback still lingers, making it hard to think clearly. I glance over at him, unsure of what to say, my throat tighter than normally. Speaking would be physically impossible right now.

Aris notices my unease, his eyes softening. He waits. He's just there. After a moment, he shifts closer and reaches for my hand.

I take his, squeezing it lightly, trying to cover what I can't say. The trembling in my fingers eases a bit under his touch. His fingers are slim and long, but warm.

"Hey, it's okay," he whispers when my breaths heave. His thumb traces small circles over the back of my hand. Though the tightness in my throat doesn't disappear, I feel a sense of relief.

I meet his gaze, my eyes thanking him. I try to clear the haze from my thoughts, but the memory of the banishment still clings to me. I'm still trapped in that moment, still feeling the sting of abandonment.

Aris lets the quiet settle around us. His presence, though subtle, is comforting—more than I expected. He simply holds my hand.

My heart is still racing, my breath coming in uneven gasps, but with every passing second, I become calmer. I focus on the warmth of his hand in mine, closing my eyes, trying to push the image of the Banishment away, but it lingers stubbornly—like it's part of me now, a shadow I can't outrun. The cold, the pain, the sense of betrayal. It all surges back, overwhelming me like it always does.

"I'm here," he whispers hesitantly, like he isn't sure how to offer the right comfort.

His words sound like a promise.

I squeeze his hand to tell him I'll be alright. He seems to understand right away, and shifts slightly. Away from me, but still close enough for me to feel his warmth.

I start to relax as I lie back down. My breathing pace becomes normal, my body no longer trembles, and I get in a comfortable position. For the last time, I glance at Aris. My eyes meet his in the dim light. He looks at me, expression plain, but there's still something nice in his eyes.

His thumb continues to trace circles on the back of my hand. At that, my eyes fall closed, and eventually, I doze off again.

❣︎

A/N: Alright guys so obviously Alamort mean 'half dead of exhaustion' but apparently it also means 'a la mort' AKA 'to the death' in French

Where do Adelaide, Aris, and Thomas go to? RIGHT, the Last City. What can you find in the last city? DEATH.

Anyway hope you enjoyed