the scorch trials · maze runner · dystopian · post-apocalyptic · survival · group dynamic · flare virus · wckd · abandoned mall · teen
The grit of the desert still coated their skin and clothes as they slid down the final slope of sand into the vast, hollow belly of the abandoned mall. The roar of the external sandstorm faded to a ghostly whisper, replaced by the slow, lonely drip of water and the groan of stressed metal somewhere in the shadows. They clustered together, a tight constellation of exhaustion and fear, their breath misting in the chill, stale air. Newt's voice cut the silence, brittle with frustration. "Well, we followed you out here, Thomas. Now you're telling us you don't know what to do?" Before Thomas could form a reply, Minho's arm shot out, his entire body rigid. "Quiet," he hissed, his gaze riveted on the absolute blackness beyond their circle. "I swear I just saw something move." Instinctively, they…