Chapter Twenty Eight: Like Sand in an Hourglass

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Panting, Thomas stutters, "(y/n)?"
Giggling with a nod, I ask, "You don't think we're stupid enough to believe you wouldn't get yourselves into trouble, do you?" I toss my helmet to the ground and stride to him, wrapping him up in a big hug, his sopping wet uniform clinging against his body and getting mine wet. "Besides, with a complex plan like this, I'm pretty sure you need a girl's brain running the show." Grinning as I pull away, I turn to Minho, basically charging at him. "Hey, shuck-face!" I exclaim, latching onto him tightly.
Nearly stumbling back, Minho's terrified expression morphs to a mix of shock and relief, and he manages to chuckle weakly as he catches his breath, shivering and hugging me in return. "Heya, shank." He smiles, pulling away to ruffle up my hair. "I see you're talking like a real Glader."
Laughing as I shove his hand away from my head, I reply, "Six months does change a person." I wink before turning to look at Newt, who's pushing his soaked hair out of his eyes and gaping at me slightly.
The veins on his left jaw have branched out more to his cheek, and they've gotten darker, but that doesn't stop my heart from lurching out of my chest in pure relief to see that he's alive.
I can't help but stare at him while he does the same, heart fluttering.
"(y/n)..." He whispers, almost breathlessly.
Without a moment more of hesitation, I stride to him, pulling him into a hug as he leans down to shakily return the embrace, burying his face in the crook of my neck as he wraps his arms tightly around my waist. Wrapping my arms underneath his and to his upper back, I squeeze him tightly.
"Bloody Glade," Newt mumbles softly in my shoulder, "it's good to see that you're alright."
"I can say the same for you." I whisper, inhaling and exhaling gently in relief. "That was seriously awesome." I mumble as I pull away to look at the three of them. "Like, holy klunk. Jumping out of a window?!"
"I don't think 'awesome' is how I would describe it." Gally mutters, tearing off his helmet as he darts his eyes from the broken window high up on the building to the boys. "'Nuts' is more like it." He concludes, tossing his helmet to the pool, now that we have no use for them anymore. "You guys are nuts."
The upmost horror that flashes in Minho's expression is definitely one of the most amusing things I have ever seen, and I clasp my good- well, less pained- hand over my mouth, snickering.
"G-Gally...?" He gapes, eyes wide. "But- How did- You-"
"Long story." The boy who 'died' says simply, shrugging and turning on his heels, marching along the edge of the pool. "Let's go."
Our rescued friend continues to stare at Gally with his jaw to the floor.
Thomas, chuckling softly at Minho whilst he catches his breath, pats his back. "We'll explain on our ride out of here." He says as the two of them follow behind.
Looking to Newt, I take his hand with my left, smiling weakly.
Seeming out of breath, he forces a weak smile, definitely not feeling well.
Although my heart sinks, I force myself to keep my smile. "Come on. Brenda's at the underground level." I explain, pulling him behind as we follow the others.
As Gally leads us around the western fountain and to the northern side of the building, the sirens in the distance continue to ring in the air, and I can hear faint shouting. I lock my eyes onto Newt, pursing my lips tightly together in concern. "How are you feeling?" I ask.
Breathing somewhat heavily through his nose, his face flushed and the whites of his eyes much more red, he coughs softly. "I'm alright..."
Frowning, I ask, "Are you sure?"
He nods, squeezing my hand reassuringly as he limps alongside me. "Positive. Besides, we'll be able to get some of that Bliss in me, and I'll be much better off."
Smiling slightly, I nod. "Good that."
"Alright," Gally says, stopping just beside the corner that turns to the eastern side of the tower and looking back at us. "I'm sure guards are going to be swarming down here, so be prepared."
"Got it." Thomas mumbles, taking a deep, nervous breath.
Readying his Launcher, Gally says, "Let's go." He turns the corner, sprinting along the outer eastern wall to the underground entrance.
I rush after, pulling Newt as he hobbles behind, wheezing softly.
However, as we run to the garage-like entrance and into the basement level, no guards come running. In fact, there are no guards at all, and the vans that were down here only fifteen minutes ago are gone. Every single one of them.
Furrowing my brows together, I look to the glass wall to our right, only to see that the other half of the facility on the opposite side of the transparent wall is empty, too. "What the shuck?" I whisper. "Where did everyone go?"
Gally, brows drawn together in suspicion, shrugs. "I don't know." He mumbles. "But don't let your guard down." With that, he slowly lifts his weapon and walks ahead of us, down the main path of concrete where the vehicles drive along.
Glancing at Newt, I can visibly see that he is shaking, and he begins coughing again, nearly stumbling over.
Flushed with panic, I let go of his hand and take off my Launcher, tossing it to the concrete so that it is not burdensome and in the way of providing aid to Newt. As long as Gally has his, we'll be alright. I wrap my left arm around Newt's waist, forcing him to use me for support.

Panting softly through parted lips, Newt slightly leans against me, blinking a little slower in growing exhaustion.
The fact that he doesn't fight my support proves that his state is definitely bad.
I reach over with my right hand, grimacing from the cuts in it and the microscopic glass bits that I didn't get out, and I pull his right arm over my shoulders, having him lean against me just enough to help him walk.
"What happened with your hand?" Newt asks softly, looking at me with concern.
I shake my head. "It's nothing to worry about."
As we make our way through the area, turning to walk around the three foot concrete divider, I peer down the long stretch of cement ahead of us, squinting my eyes before widening them. "Where's the bus?"
"What?" Thomas perks up in concern, looking at me. "What do you mean, 'Where's the bus?'"
"I mean the bus is gone, Thomas." I snap, all of my patience instantly vanishing with the stress rising inside me due to the sudden turn of events.
Gally looks back at the four of us, his face distorted in somewhat panic that he is forcing to keep down. "Brenda had the bus parked just down there," he explains, pointing down the path, "but they're gone."
"They can't be gone. They- They said they'd stay behind. Brenda- The kids-" My breath hitches in my throat as I whisper, "The Serum..."
I can see Newt turn his head to me in my peripherals, but I don't dare return the glance, not wanting to see the expression on his face.
"What the shuck do we do now?" Minho asks.
Gally, inhaling deeply as he purses his lips, shifts his eyes back in the direction we had entered from. "They must have had to result to Plan B."
I furrow my brows together. "What? What's Plan B?" I ask, speaking quickly. "I don't remember a Plan B!"
"It's the plan for if Brenda and the hostages get found out, so it wasn't necessary for you guys to know about it." He explains, striding past the four of us. "Fry's involved in that part. I gave you all separate maps for a reason."
"So what are we doing?" Thomas asks, swiftly following behind; Minho does the same.
It's crazy how this dire situation has gotten Thomas to actually cooperate with Gally.
"We're going back to the hideout outside of the city. We've got to get to the tunnels."
Supporting Newt as we do our best to turn around and keep up with the others, I mumble in worry, "The sewage route is all the way across town."
"Well, Brenda and Fry are probably getting their plan rolling as we speak, so we need to hurry." Gally calls back.
Frowning, I pull Newt closer to me in order to place more of his weight against me.
We make our way back out of the underground level, stepping out into the seemingly empty, quiet city, only the sound of the faint, distant sirens can be heard echoing.
"This way." Gally waves us in his direction as he turns on his heels and runs down the left end of the road.
Thomas, looking back at Newt and I, gives me a questioning glance.
I shake my head. "Keep going. I've got it." I say reassuringly.
Pursing his lips together, he nods slightly, rushing after Gally.
Minho stares at Newt in concern, frowning.
I can't imaging having known Newt for well over three years, be apart for six months, and then reunite just to watch him suffer.
"Minho," I whisper, "keep going. We'll keep up."
He shifts his eyes to me before eyeing Newt, once again. He nods hesitantly, turning on his heels and jogging ahead.
"I've got it." Newt finally speaks up, pushing off of me and standing upright, though he stumbles a little.
I quickly grasp his right arm in case he collapses. "Newt, you're not getting any better."
"I can push through." He says, staring me in the eyes. The veins in his cheeks are more predominant, beginning to bulge a little in his face. His wet hair falls into his eyes in strands, and the circles around his eyes are almost black. I open my mouth to protest, but he cuts me off by adding, "Trust me."
Those two simple words cause me to immediately clamp my mouth shut, my throat beginning to burn as I feel the urge to cry. "You know I do..." I choke out.
Panting softly, his chest rising and falling more distinctively, a shadow of a smile tugs on the right corner of his lips. "Come on." He says, running in a hobbled manner after the others.
Biting my lip to keep from arguing, I run after Newt, staying as closely behind him as possible, ready to catch him if he falls.
As we make our way down the first few blocks, my eyes catch a faint glimmer of a bright red flare in the distance as it flies in the dark, starless sky from somewhere far across down, suddenly bursting and illuminating an even brighter shade of red.
"That's Plan B in action." Gally calls back from the front.
Furrowing my brows together, I look ahead at the others as they worriedly glance up at the flare, it's bright fire trailing a line of smoke behind it as it soars upward.
I can only imagine what Plan B consists of.
Gally leads us down a couple more blocks, stopping us at an open courtyard-like area where there are raised blocks of concrete that hold trees, providing a little spec of nature in such a technological city. Vertically standing, cement rods of light line the outer perimeter of the courtyard, illuminating the area with coolly-tinted lights.
Sliding across the slick, marble flooring of the courtyard on his knees, Gally hides behind a block to the right, Thomas sliding beside him.
Minho and Newt rush to the concrete block to the left, both sliding across the ground and slamming into the cement with a grunt.
Examining Newt's condition as he turns to lean his back against the block, coughing violently, I rush to the spot where Thomas and Gally are hiding, sliding to a stop in between the two of them. "How much farther are the tunnels?" I ask, urgency rising in my voice.
"Eleven, maybe twelve, blocks." Gally pants, leaning back against the concrete and glancing over his shoulder to look at the route ahead of us through the planted trees.
I gape at Gally. "Twelve shucking blocks?!" I hiss. "He can't go twelve more shucking blocks!"
My comment causes the two boys to look where Newt and Minho hide, and I avert my eyes to them, too, watching Newt whispering something to Minho as he unbuttons his jacket, head tiredly swaying. He manages to place his left hand on Minho's shoulder, smiling weakly. "It's good to see you though..."
Minho clasps his right hand on Newt's arm, returning the small smile with a subtle nod.
Turning to look at us, Minho's smile fades. However, he forces the smile to return as he shifts his attention to Newt again, whispering one more thing to the ill boy before giving him a comforting pat on the shoulder and crawling in our direction. "Hey," he whispers, glancing back at Newt once more before looking at us, "how long has he been like this?" He asks as soon as he is out of earshot from Newt.
"He wasn't visibly ill until today." Thomas explains.
"Last night..." I correct in a weak voice, eyes locked on Newt as he rests against the separate concrete block, his chest heaving with heavy breaths as he tiredly tilts his head back, swallowing in discomfort, his Adam's apple rising and falling.
Thomas gives me a confused look.
Shifting my eyes to the brunette, I explain, "He told me that he saw some of his veins getting dark yesterday."
Pursing his lips together, Thomas nods understandingly.
"When did he get bit?" Minho asks.
"He didn't..." I mutter, shifting my eyes back to Newt. "It's airborne now."
The other three boys exchanged worried glances.
Without another word, I crawl to Newt's aid, a deep ache beginning to spread through my chest, the source being my heart.
The ill boy tiredly averts his eyes to me, wheezing softly. "How much farther did Gally say we've got?"
Sitting on my knees in front of him, I whisper, "About twelve blocks." I gently brush his soaked hair out of his eyes. "Do you think you'll be able to handle that?"
He nods weakly, closing his eyes in exhaustion. "Yeah... Yeah, I can handle that..." he whispers in return.
I rest my left hand on his sweaty, veiny cheek, brushing my thumb against his pale skin gently as I nod slowly. "We'll get you the Bliss, and everything will be okay..." I choke out reassuringly.
He raises his trembling right hand, resting it over my left as he does his best to catch his breath, leaning his head against the palm of my hand, eyes still closed.
I bite my lip as I feel it begin to quiver from the urge to cry.
Thomas, standing up and peeling off his jacket, tosses it to Minho and walks to Newt and I, crouching down in front of him. "Alright, Newt, we've got to get going. Okay?" He whispers shakily.
Newt, letting go of my hand as I pull it away, nods with the little strength he has, taking a deep, stuttered breath.
Thomas takes Newt's left arm, pulling it over his shoulders as the brunette drapes his right arm around Newt's waist, helping the boy to his feet.
As soon as Newt is upright, he suddenly stumbles forward, nearly toppling to the ground, but Thomas manages to keep a firm hold on him.
My stomach leaps to my throat in a panic. "Newt-"
"Woah, woah, woah!" Thomas says quickly as he pulls the ill boy upright. "You alright?"
Coughing weakly, Newt nods. "I'm fine, Tommy..." he mumbles as he leans against Thomas for support, the two of them slowly walking down the main path of the courtyard.
After watching the two of them with worried eyes, I avert my attention to Gally and Minho, who are still crouched down behind the slab of concrete to the right, Gally watching Thomas and Newt while Minho stares at him. "I don't get it." He mutters, causing Gally to shift his glance to him. "I put a spear through your heart."
Gally, sitting a little taller, takes a deep breath. "Well," he says, patting Minho's shoulder, "nobody's perfect." With that, he gets to his feet and strides after the ill boy and his friend.
Distorting my face in confusion as I rise to my feet, I look to Minho. "Wait, you plunged a spear completely through his heart?" I ask, walking towards him.
"Yeah!" He exclaims in disbelieving frustration as he stands and we follow the others. "I chucked it as him, and it went clean into his shucking chest!"
I avert my eyes to Gally. "Okay, I assumed that, when Fry said you speared Gally, he meant in the stomach or shoulder or something of that sort, but now I understand why everyone was so shocked..." I mutter, jaw dropping.
I wonder if the girls that were stung could have survived a spear to the heart if I had tried to fight for them? What if Annie could have been 'patched up' like Gally? Then that means WICKED allowed every one of those girls to perish. I clench my jaw and ball my fists at the thought.
"Woah, Newt!" Thomas exclaims from ahead, and I dart my eyes to the two of them as Newt nearly topples to the ground again, Thomas struggling to hold him upright.
Minho immediately runs ahead, catching Newt from his right side and pulling his right arm over his shoulders, providing Newt support on his other side.
Gulping, I rush after them. "Are you alright?"
Newt, looking back over his shoulder to me, pants, "Yeah... Yeah, I'm alright..."
I nod slowly, frowning.
"We've got to keep going." Thomas whispers, and he and Minho guide Newt along the slick path ahead.
Following closely behind the three boys, I walk alongside Gally, taking in a long, stuttered breath.
"Don't worry." Gally whispers to me as we make our way down the sidewalk. "We'll get him the Bliss."
Pressing my lips together tightly, I look to the tall boy. "Thanks..."
He averts his eyes to me, nodding slightly.
As we make our way to the end of the block, Gally rushes ahead of the three boys, taking the lead. "This way." He calls over his shoulder, holding his Launcher tightly as he strides onto the road, glancing left and right as he jogs across the street and to the sidewalk on the opposite side.
I stay behind Thomas, Newt, and Minho, walking closely behind them and extending my left hand out towards Newt's back protectively as our group slowly, but surely, crosses to the other side of the road after Gally, and, once we return to the sidewalk, we follow the broad shouldered boy as he turns left and swiftly strides alongside the towering buildings to his right.
Gally leads us halfway down the block before turning right and marching into an alleyway. Breathing heavily, Minho and Thomas guide Newt into the narrow alley, and I walk behind.
We make our way down the long, tar stretch between the two massive buildings, and I cannot help but feel as if I'm walking down a corridor in the Maze.
Apparently, Minho's thinking the same thing. "Geez, this city's like the shucking Maze." He mumbles as he looks up at the buildings that tower over us.
Thomas manages to scoff slightly. "You can say that again..." He mutters.
"Alright, we've got a flight of stairs up ahead." Gally explains, looking back at us over his shoulder.
Thomas nods. "We can handle that." He says confidently as we step out into the open on the other end of the alleyway. He and Minho slow to a stop as they look at the flight ahead, a long, wide stretch of declining stairs before us. The stairs reach around the edge from one side of the block to the other, no way around them from here. The flight is illuminated by pale blue, horizontal lights that line the edge of one of every five steps.
Gally, stopping at the edge of the top step, looks back at the four of us. "It's the shortest route..." He mumbles.
Pressing his lips tightly together as he inhales deeply through his nose, Thomas shifts his brown eyes to Newt. "Will you be able to handle that?"
Newt, panting heavily in utter exhaustion, shifts his glance to Thomas, swallowing down the liquid that must be beginning to build up in his throat as he nods. "Yeah..."
Frowning slightly, Gally nods, turning and beginning to stride down the steps.
Thomas and Minho exchange a worried glance before the two of them help Newt make his way towards the flight, carefully stepping down onto the first step. I can see Newt already struggling to properly plant his feet on the stairs and contract the muscles in his legs to stand.
Gulping, I follow directly behind the boys.
As

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