The following morning, the group was woken up when Thomas tried shooing a bird away from eating the food they had stored in their bags. It wasn't his intention to wake everyone up but now that he did, he figured it worked out enough that they could start their day.

It took the group a while to fall asleep, the sounds of the cranks keeping them up to an ungodly hour. They eventually spread out around the crevice they were situated in, most of them using their backpacks as pillows instead of the hard floor.

However, (Y/N) was rested comfortably on Newt's chest; the two of them cuddled together as if they were inside their bed in her hut and not out in this desert. The pair woke up along with the others and (Y/N) glanced up at Newt as everyone slowly and tiredly got up for the day.

"Are they gone?" Newt questioned Thomas who was standing upright and looking around. He was the most awake out of all of them.

"Yeah, I think we're safe for now," Thomas answered.

Newt nodded and looked back down at his girl. Her face was caked in sand just like the others but her cheeks had streaks cleaned with her tears that only made his heart sink a little bit lower in his chest. He hadn't had any idea what the life outside the maze was like but if he had known, he just might have agreed with her to stay.

"I think we should get moving. Let's go," Thomas told the group and nudged Minho and Teresa who were lying down around his feet.

Newt took this moment as everyone rubbed the sleep out of their eyes to ask his girl how she was doing. She could only answer in a nod and a quick kiss to his cheek, the girl not wanting to use words knowing that her voice would probably be all scratchy from inhaling the dusty air all night.

All of the Gladers plus Aris were slow to get up but they did ultimately all get up and slip their bags back onto their backs. The cranks seemed to be long gone by now yet they had no idea what else could be lurking inside this desert besides just the cranks.

The only path away from WICKED and away from the cranks seemed to lead them upwards along piles of debris and destroyed buildings. A few times, someone would get caught on a sharp rod or corner that was sticking out, not that anyone was hurt enough to mention.

At the top of the hill was a flat balcony. The view would have been incredible had the world not been scorched. In front of them was a large street (probably a main highway all those years ago) with buildings lining the entire road, each building a crumbling mess of its former beauty, sand burying some of them up to the third floor. Along the street were abandoned cars and other vehicles, all of them oxidized and with broken windows.

Even though everyone was thinking it, nobody commented on how devastating the city looked. They had been locked away inside of a maze for three years so not a single one of them could truly remember what a city or town looked like.

There was a clear-cut path down the street—a dirt road where cars must come through at rare occasions—that allowed the Gladers to walk down. The walk was mostly silent again, the teens in awe at the decaying buildings and burned cars. Nothing was consistent and it seemed to be a mix of the solar flares, the cranks and the immunes' doings.

"What the hell happened to this place?" Frypan asked quietly, not truly needing an answer and instead just speaking out loud.

"I don't know. Doesn't look like anyone's been here in a long time," Newt replied, just as curious about the destruction of the city as the others.

The group hadn't even been walking that long when Thomas called for all of them to stop. They obeyed and turned around to question why.

"You hear that?"

Listening closer, the Gladers were able to make out a faint whirring sound. At first, they compared it to a griever but it sounded more similar to the helicopter they were in when WICKED brought them from the maze to the compound. Concluding that no matter what it was, it wasn't good, the Gladers searched for a quick place to hide in the event that it was WICKED.

As soon as they all hid, the sound became increasingly louder until it was right on top of the. Flying overhead were three vehicles, two of them looking like helicopters but the other looking way more futuristic and high-tech to be anything but WICKED's.

They watched the vehicles fly away before even daring to speak again, too scared that their technology was so advanced that it could detect when they spoke.

Minho sighed, "They're never gonna stop looking for us, are they?" The Gladers agreed but they were too scared to admit it. Once they felt they were far enough away, they climbed out of their hiding spots and began walking again.

They continued for hours, the heat drying up their throats and the sun burning any exposed skin. They understood now why it was called the scorch.

Walking up a very steep sand dune, they had a clear view of everything ahead of them. In the far distance were the mountains they were looking for, taking away a lot of the hope some of them had that they didn't have too much farther to walk.

"That's a long way off," Newt commented. He had no other choice but to agree with Thomas's plan since nobody else had any idea of what to do or where to go. All in all, he still hated this. While Thomas defended his plan, Aris had suddenly become overcome with fatigue and fell down the front of the sand dune. He slid down a few feet but was stopped when the others caught him in the sand. Teresa set his head in her lap and tried calling out his name although he remained unresponsive.

"What do we do?" Teresa looked to Thomas for answers but as usual, he didn't really have one.

(Y/N) looked down at the bottom of the hill and noticed a few pieces of scrap metal and supplies buried halfway in sand. "I have an idea."

A while later, the group had helped her construct a lift to carry Aris through the scorch till they arrived make at the mountains. They left the stronger boys (Minho, Frypan, and Winston) to drag him in the sand and divided his bag so that both (Y/N) and Teresa could help carry his things. This proved to be working well besides the occasional hills that required a lot more boys to help.

A sudden sandstorm pushed the Gladers to stop underneath a submerged balcony that sheltered them from the storm. It only lasted a little while and as soon as it was over, Teresa left the group to look out across the desert, Thomas joining her moments after.

Newt came over to (Y/N) who was sitting against the brick under the shade. She had run out of water a little while ago and was being offered it now by Newt.

"No. Honey, you need that." (Y/N) rejected his offer and rested her head against his shoulder. He, however, wasn't taking no for an answer and nudged her further with the half-full bottle. She reluctantly took the bottle and only drank a small sip so to leave the rest for him later on.

The group took this time to rest and let their bodies have a break until they would need to keep moving. Everything was calm until Aris suddenly sprung up from his lifeless state and grabbed the gun sitting in the pocket of Winston's bag. In this sudden panic, it went off.

"What happened?" Thomas and Teresa ran over as soon as they heard the gun-shot.

"I—I don't know! He woke up and just grabbed the gun and he tried to—" Frypan was shaken up from what happened so he was having a hard time explaining what actually did happen.

Thomas kneeled beside Aris and tried asking him what was wrong when Aris leaned forward and coughed up black blood onto the sand. He did that a few times before lying on his back to look up at the group.

"It's," Aris shakily lifted up his shirt to reveal the wounds he had from the cranks the night before. The red blood had turned into a thick black substance, his skin shaded with gross purples and blues. "Only getting worse." He took more shaky breaths before adding, "I'm not gonna make it."

Thomas tried fighting him, telling the sick boy that he would be okay as soon as they found someone in the scorch. They just needed a doctor.

"Please," he continued, his voice strained even more now. "Please, don't let me turn into one of those things."

Newt moved first, not really acknowledging the others asking him what he was doing. He took the gun from Frypan's hands and knelt beside Aris, slipping the gun into his sweaty hands and curling his fingers around it.

Newt wasn't like Thomas, he didn't feel that everyone needed to be alive just for the sake of it nor did he have the same childlike optimism. He knew what it was like to suffer and he was certain that he didn't want anyone, not even the kid he's known a day, to suffer like the people with the Flare did.

"Thank you," Aris spoke up to Newt, "Now, get out of here."

"Goodbye Aris." Newt hardly even knew the boy but he did deserve a kind goodbye, especially the minutes before his death.

Newt walked back towards his bag, grabbing (Y/N)'s arm on the way and beginning their walk towards the mountains. The pair slipped their bags on and left their hands linked beside them, Newt knowing (Y/N) would be devastated as she watched somebody else die in front of her eyes, no matter if she knew them that well or not.

Eventually, all of the Gladers made their peace with Aris and followed Newt and (Y/N) across the sand. They hadn't even been walking a full minute when the sound of a gunshot echoed across the desert. They all stopped and stared off in the distance of where they just came from knowing WICKED had been the cause of yet another innocent child's death.