𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐒 - 𝘚𝘊𝘖𝘙𝘊𝘏 𝘛𝘙𝘐𝘈𝘓𝘚

2 ~ 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙨𝙤 𝙣𝙪𝙢𝙗

Newt

Running. Maze. Grievers. Battle. Death. Creators. Lottie. Gone. Gunshots. Rain.

The last hour was a blur to me. How was it possible that just that morning I was yelling for Lottie to not get herself killed in front of forty boys? Now she was taken, whether she was dead or alive I did not know, and there were only eight of us left.

It was raining. I was on a bus. I did not know why, but I did know that the people at the front were enemies of WICKED.

It had all happened so quickly; one second I was staring at the door they had taken Lottie through, my spirit sinking to the bottom of the ocean, and the next Minho had shoved me to the floor to avoid the gunfire.

I hadn't been hurt. Neither had any of my friends – the bullets were aimed at the glass wall. It had been shattered. I remembered the glittering glass fragments on the floor, as sharp and unforgiving as the ones piercing my heart.

The Creators behind the wall had been killed. They were slumped in their chairs with bullets in their heads or chests. I turned to see where the shots came from, and saw a whole new group of people that had come in through the door on the left. They all wore the same thing: a black uniform with a helmet covering their heads so that we couldn't tell who they were.

"Come on, kids!" One of them called, opening the door again. "We're here to help you!" They began to usher the others towards it. I stood still, looking at them blankly. Two of the black-uniformed people came over to me and grabbed my arms, trying to lead me after the others. I tried to shrug them off.

"No! We can't just leave her here, you have to save her, too..." They didn't listen, and I was shoved through the door.

We were outside – a real outside. I could tell by the smell; a smell of grass and pine, since we seemed to be in a forest of evergreen trees. It was pouring rain, and my hair was instantly soaking wet, dripping into my eyes. A bus was parked right outside, and my friends were being shoved onto it. I stumbled up the stairs and collapsed into the first empty seat. I saw Minho take the seat next to me. The people who saved us hurried onto the bus as well, and the doors closed.

Suddenly, I heard a loud thump on the window next to me. I jumped, startled. I looked out the window and squeaked in surprise. A figure – a woman – had her hands planted on the glass. Her hair was tangled and matted, and her face was mangled and covered in blood. Her expression was twisted in a snarl. She bared her teeth at me and pounded on the glass as if to break it.

"Uh, excu – excuse me?" I called uncertainly to the people who saved us, who had sat near the front.

"Step on it!" One of them shrieked at the driver. The bus lurched into motion, and the woman at the window disappeared.

"There's loads of them!" Minho hissed at me, looking out his own window. I leaned over him to see for myself. Sure enough, there were more people that looked just as sick and crazy as the woman. Some threw themselves at the bus, clawing at it. The front wheels bumped over something, and then the back wheels. I turned to Minho, sickened.

"Do you think that was...?"

"Yeah," He muttered.

And that was how I got here on this bus, face pressed very unflatteringly against the window, watching the raindrops slide down the glass. We'd been driving for about an hour, and no one had spoken yet. I think we were all in shock. We'd all lost friends today. Or was it yesterday? I couldn't tell what time it was.

The most haunting part of it all to me had been Mitch's death. The fourteen-year-old who always saw the bright side. Julian's reaction had been an accurate one. I too felt like screaming until my throat was raw, and clawing at the ground until my fingers bled. But Lottie's reaction was what really punched me in the gut.