Disclaimer:

I do not own The Maze Runner, but I'm going to have to wait until 2017 for The Death Cure to come in theaters and I am not pleased.

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I jumped at the sound of a slamming door. It broke through the silence in the Scorch, sounding like a sonic boom compared to the static in my ears. Newt and I stood up in sync. We both whirled around toward the source of the sound: the small building in which the girl and Thomas had disappeared to.

He was running. Running toward us at the speed of light, eyes widened in unmistakable fear and anxiety.

"What the hell—" I started to ask him, but he breezed by and paused just long enough to shout to the group. His eyes were wild like an animal's that knew it was about to be slaughtered.

"We need to go. Now. As fast as possible," he warned, already breathless, before he turned and started sprinting toward the city again.

"What — Thomas!" I began chasing after him, holding up my arms to shield my eyes from the sand that he was kicking up. His long legs were no match for mine; he was always at least fifteen steps ahead of me no matter how hard I pushed myself.

Finally, he slowed to a decent pace, eyes cast downward. I was able to jog quickly and catch up with him.

"Thomas—"

"Go away!"

He yelled it right in my face. His brown eyes were burning with anger and sadness, blazing so intensely that I side-stepped away from him in shock. My jaw dropped slightly. That was the last response I had been expecting. After a blink, he seemed to realize what he said and covered his mouth. Tears pooled in his eyes and washed out the anger.

"Just go away."

I sucked in a sharp breath and nodded. If he wanted to be alone, I'd let him. He would tell me what happened when he was ready.

I turned and ran back to the first person I saw, which happened to be Minho. I joined him once we matched paces. He turned to look at me with a slightly alarmed expression, eyebrows raised in question. "The shuck's wrong with him?"

I shook my head. "No idea. He just shouted at me to go away."

Minho closed his eyes in annoyance and faced forward once again.

It must've been at least two and a half hours until Thomas finally stopped. While the rest of us paused to walk for a little while, he kept running, never once stopping to catch his breath. I thought he'd collapse from all the strain he was putting on his body.

My heart was thumping so hard it hurt. Minho was way in front of me now, and I walked alongside Theo in the back. He'd curse under his breath every so often and never once let go of his hip.

I knew better than to ask him if he was okay. He'd merely brush off the question and say he was fine, even though his expression alone was enough to tell me he wasn't. All of this running was taking its toll on him. If I could, I'd force him to sit down, even carry him if I was physically capable of doing so. I hated to watch him beat himself up like that.

It took us a full fifteen minutes to catch up with my brother. Minho reached him first, sprinting top-speed toward him the second Thomas' knees hit the sand. I wanted to run to him so badly, but I couldn't feel my legs and I was sure I'd fall on my face if I even tried to jog.

I tightened the jacket that was tied around my waist and lifted my braid off of my neck. By then, about a million flyaway hairs had stuck to my face in an unattractive fashion. The night was slowly cooling me down, but all of the continuous running didn't help the sweating problem.

Once we joined Thomas and Minho, Theo plopped onto the ground with a grunt. I stumbled to my brother's side and doubled over to catch my breath.

"Traumatizing?" Minho repeated in confusion to something Thomas had said before I arrived. "Who did you see in there? What did they say?"

Thomas met Minho's eyes, his face slick with sweat and face crumbled. He wet his lips and sighed. "It was...it was Teresa."

My heart skipped a beat, making me cough. "What?"

"You're serious?" Minho's expression was completely dumbfounded. It almost appeared like he didn't believe him.

Thomas nodded and stared at the ground.

"And you left her there?" Minho exclaimed. "Dude, you need to start talking and tell us what happened."

And, between pants, he did. She had refused to let him touch her, almost like he might've burned her, he said. It reminded him of Gally the way she had acted possessed. It wasn't like her at all. Then she warned him to run, and so he did, and now we were here and he was still freaking out.

"Wow," Minho gasped in a weary tone. He summed up my thoughts in a single word.

"How did she look?" I questioned quietly. My eyes were unfocused as memories of her screams rattled in my ears. "Was she okay otherwise?"

Thomas nodded. "She was clean. Too clean for being out here. It was some kind of trap. I don't know what would've happened, or how many of us would've died. Maybe all of us. But I could see that there wasn't any doubt in her eyes when she broke away from whatever restrained her. She saved us, and I bet they made her... I bet that they made her pay for it."

My heart throbbed and I looked back toward where we came from. I was terrified, so scared that I was even afraid to admit it to myself. I missed having an almost normal life in the Glade. I missed waking up every day and eating Frypan's breakfast. At least then I wasn't scared to death at every waking moment.

Minho reached out and squeezed Thomas' shoulder comfortingly. "Dude, if those shuck W.I.C.K.E.D people wanted her dead, she'd be rottin' under a big pile of rocks. She's just as tough as anybody else, maybe even tougher. She'll survive."

Thomas breathed deeply and let it out again. "I know. Somehow I know."

Minho stood from his previously crouched position. "We should've stopped a couple hours ago to get some sleep. But thanks to Mr. Desert Runner down here" - he playfully thumped Thomas in the head - "we ran ourselves ragged till the freaking sun came back up. I still think we need to rest for a while. Do it under the sheets, whatever, but let's try."

I complied and let myself sink to the sand. Newt came over and handed me my sheet, making me feel guilty for forgetting to take it back. He had carried both of ours - plus the food pack - the entire way here.

I laid on half of the sheet and used the other half to cover myself as best as I could. The jacket became my pillow. I could feel the air slowly starting to heat up already as the sun barely peeked over the horizon.

I shut my eyes tightly and fell asleep before I could release my second breath.

-/-

Days later and I was sure I was going to pass out from heat exhaustion. Walks in the Scorch were a never-ending cycle of miles of walking, sweating, and cooling off at night for only a few hours until it got hot again. My mouth was constantly dry; I was sure most of us were suffering from dehydration.

Memories were coming back, mostly in the forms of dreams. They were little things- starting school in the W.I.C.K.E.D facility, seeing Thomas less and less as they decided he was more important. He was smarter. He always had been.

I woke up to a crackle of dry thunder. My head shot up more quickly than I could even open my eyes. It was a shock to see actual clouds in the sky. They covered the stars and swirled together dangerously, threateningly in time with the howling wind. It blew my ponytail into my mouth. I huffed and tried to keep it away because I had literally just tied it before I had fallen asleep.

None of the others had woken up except for Thomas. I could hardly see him in the darkness, but I was able to make out his silhouette lying back down in the sand. Why wasn't anyone alarmed at the storm except me? I couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. Storms and us out in the open wouldn't mix.

I couldn't fall back asleep.

The next day, we approached the city- if you could call it that. We were still two or so miles away from the cluster of dilapidated buildings. The sand had swirled into a dangerous mix that made it almost impossible to see, and the wind had picked up considerably.

Fighting against the wind was the worst thing about it. Occasionally it would bring stuff along with it: gravel, branches, stones, and countless scraps of paper threatened to pelt us every step of the way.

I should have seen it coming. When there was a storm, there was thunder. And when there was thunder, lightning right behind it.

The bolts were huge and ruthless. They slammed into the ground with such ferocity that I could barely hear more than I could see. I had long since lost my sheet. I wasn't sure if Newt still had our food pack. All I could feel was the same rising terror, and this time it was threatening to make me go overboard.

I felt sick when I finally stumbled. Not getting more than about two hours of sleep was quickly catching up to me. Hands groped my sides until they were able to pull me to my feet, and I couldn't hear what the person was shouting to me. All I could do to figure out who it was was squint until my eyes almost closed. A flicker of long black hair caught my eye. Harvey.

I looked forward - or what I assumed was forward - just in time to see a brilliant streak of white light strike the ground a dozen yards in front of me. A boy's body got thrown to the side. Call it twin instinct, but somehow I was able to know immediately that it was Thomas.

I couldn't hear myself scream his name, but I could feel my lips moving and my vocal cords vibrating. It was a mistake. Sand nearly choked me as it clouded in my throat, making me cough and sputter. I pushed against the wind to reach my brother. The whole way, my heart was pounding and ice-cold fear the weight of lead filled my veins.

I reached him and nearly fell when a particularly strong gust of wind almost knocked me off of my feet. I picked him up by his torso and heaved him to a standing position. He was fine, much to my relief, but he wouldn't stop staring at something in front of us. I had a feeling I didn't want to look.

Jack, he mouthed to me. Jack was hit.

My stomach churned as Thomas shoved me away and emptied the contents of his insides onto the sand. Someone pushed me along. I turned to see Minho urging me to keep going. I shook my head. I wasn't leaving my brother, not even for a second after he had almost gotten struck.

Minho seemed to understand that I wasn't going anywhere. Together, we managed to get Thomas stable and run alongside him. Both of us stayed to his left, about a foot or so between us due to the wind. I could barely see my brother anymore as the clouds above us thickened.

I looked up just in time to see the lightning strike.

It detonated precisely between Minho and I, throwing me off my feet and sending me flying backwards. I hit the sand with such a thud that my head spun. It took me a second to realize that I was burning.

That time, I was able to hear my own screams. The wind just barely swallowed them, carrying them back to what was left of the group behind me. I wasn't on fire, no, but my left arm was sizzling and so was my ear. That side of my shirt was seared open and welts covered the skin. I was trembling at the horrible sensation that swallowed me whole as I lied there in the sand, unsure if anyone was going to notice that I was gone.

I cried out at the sharp pain that sent shock waves through my body as I sat up. My head was spinning so badly that the mix of sand was a blur of color; I must've hit my head on the sand when I landed. My eyes were too dry to even let any tears come out, but I wanted to cry. Maybe then I'd be able to release the pent-up feelings inside of me.

I felt something wet in my hair. My left ear was bleeding. It was only a minor trickle, but I felt nauseous upon feeling the blood anyway.

Someone scooped me up off of my feet before I could process what was happening. Soon I was bouncing around in Newt's arms in such a violent fashion that I was sure I was going to fall out. His arms touched the angry red burns on my arms and side, making me yell out in agony as a fresh wave of the burning pain washed over me.

I closed my eyes and willed myself to pass out, to do anything to get out of this misery. I was tired and burning and I couldn't even hear, but once again, fate decided not to help me. I didn't pass out. I still couldn't cry. It was like the whole universe just wanted me to be miserable with no way of release. It looked like it was winning.

gif is the gladers running from the storm

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in case you didn't catch it, basically the lightning struck between dylan and minho, but minho still got the worst of it. yes, he did catch fire. dylan was thrown back far enough that she couldn't exactly see that

i am slowly starting to regain regular updates so wooo!!!

i actually can't think of any questions for this chapter, sorry! i've been dealing with a head cold for the past few days and it's been making me really tired ):

-kristyn