I do not own the Maze Runner Trilogy. Blame James Dashner for ruining your lives.

"THOMAS, MINHO, WHAT THE HELL ARE THOSE THINGS?" I had never heard Aris vocalize something to that decibel, before. He usually kept quiet, kept to himself. It was made apparent that he only raised his voice to that level when hundreds of bloodthirsty soulless corps happened to be on our asses, making macabre cries as they staggered after us, their bodies lurching with each wide stride they took.

"I DON'T KNOW. JUST KEEP GOING!" Thomas urged, as all eight of us made it to the top of a set of broken escalators. "MOVE MOVE!"

"They're cranks!" I screamed at them, feeling my calves scream painfully as I pushed my legs further and further. "Don't let them bite you!"

"Where do we go?!"

"Come on!" Teresa cheered, turning left and then another immediate forced left.

"Keep moving!" Thomas screamed.

The flashlights danced across the broken path in front of us, beaming here and there as we struggled to hold them still while making a break for it.

The mall was much larger from the second floor. It was open. There were three floors by the looks of it. We entered on the first floor, and the floors above it were just rings around the side of the building, encircling the middle. The cranks could climb, apparently.

They were much faster than I had expected them to be. They were dumb, stumbling into crates and boxes in their way, or pushing each other into the middle of the mall and falling through glass panels.

One of them croaked loudly, a bubbly, phlegmy, yell; which resonated off the walls, echoing in our ears and making us cower.

I tried not to look back, and stare at their gruesome faces; but it was hard not to. It was like watching a car crash. You wanted to look away—but you just couldn't no matter how hard you tried. The worst part was locking your eyes with those austere, desolate eyes; overflowing with infection. The first two that lead the gang of living dead were both men. I tried desperately not to imagine what they might've been like without all the scars, the blood, and the boils, but it was entirely too difficult for someone with such an intensifying heart. They probably had families… friends. They would have people that loved them, and now they were just…nothing. Were they the people that resided here before us? Or had they just wandered their way in here?

The noise of glass breaking shook me from my reverie.

"Oh shhhhhit." Thomas held the first part of the curse between his tongue and teeth as his feet skidded to a stop. I slammed into him, and then Newt behind me.

"Sorry," he murmured in my ear, which was really not the time to apologize for unnecessary thing; but I smiled anyways.

There was a crank revealing itself from a side path to the right of us, knocking over clothing racks as it blocked us in between the other monsters.

"Oh shuck," I cursed, nibbling on my knuckles. This was the time to take action. This was the time for Rhea's skills to come in handy. I don't know why I hesitated for even a second, but by the time I pushed Thomas out of the way to get to the crank charging towards us, Aris had already swung a piece of loose metal towards it, a sickening crunch as it connected with its knee caps. The crank flew towards us, like a baseball on a home run—causing our small group to divide in the middle, as it slid past us and hit a broken bench behind us.

I looked to Newt, who had wide eyes and looked confused and terrified in cooperation.

There was a divide as part of us went up the left escalator, and half of us went up to the right to the third. Thomas and Teresa were on their own, most of the cranks following them, while the rest of us were scrambling up the broken steps; scraps of metal jamming into our shoe as we booked it up the stairs.

There was a loud shriek from a crank behind me, that didn't look too far gone.

"Florence!" Newt yelled, pulling me by my sleeve up the escalator.

I clung to his left arm, as he tried to pull me up at a quicker pace, me being the last one up the narrow stairs and all.

I lost my footing on the last two steps, sending me hurdling to the floor.

Newt clung to my scarf, vaguely choking me as he tried to pull me up. "Florence no!" A few of the others hung back, coming to aid to my rescue, but I knew I could handle myself.

I breathed heavily, flipping onto my back as the women with thin clusters of hair, and moist scabs on her fast growled as she neared me.

She lunged for me when she was four steps away, and I lifted both legs. Her head connected with my feet, and I kangaroo-kicked her down the stairs, sending the other cranks toppling back to the second floor.

Before I even had a second to relish in my coup, two physique limbs shoveled underneath my armpits like a hook on a fish, and stood me erect.

I dusted myself off, giving Newt a refined nod to articulate my appreciation, and then reallocated back into a sprint.

"Teresa!" I heard from the opposite escalator.

I barely had time to even look back, now. We were running so hastily my vision started to blur, the track beneath me dissipating at my feet.

I felt Newt's hand on my back. He never surpassed me as he ran, always staying behind me since the escalator.

Eventually, Teresa and Thomas joined us. We reunited and took a sharp left to cross over the middle of the mall, a small bridge of sorts to traverse. We took a quick right, my sneakers skidding as I followed Minho ahead of me.

"Where the hell are we going?!" Minho's voice cracked as he dodged miscellaneous piles of rubble.

Thomas' shoulder bumped mine, and Newt let go of my back.

"We gotta find a way out of here!" Frypan howled.

"And what?" I screamed back at him, "Get caught by WICKED?"

No one responded, knowing that neither option was favorable. I sure as hell wasn't going back there. If I was dying, I was dying with my friends, not back in that hell hole.

It was arduous to perceive sound from the others over the vociferating undead sprawling after us.

"Go!" Thomas and Newt slowed behind me, but still briskly followed suit with the rest of us. They were by far 'the protectors' of our cluster, making sure the majority of us were unharmed. "Faster, faster!"

There was a loud crash behind me, glass sprinkling around my feet as small 'ting' noises resonated around us. "NEWT!" Thomas cried.

I didn't want to turn around, in fear of what I may see, in case he was a goner. I pivoted anyways, knowing that if there was any slim chance that I could save him, I would take it even if it required death. I would've done that for any of them. I was no longer the coward I was back in the maze. I was relentless and I would stop at nothing to save the people I loved. Besides, I didn't have that long to live anyway.

I almost breathed a sigh of relief when I saw him laying on his back, recoiling as a snapping crank bared his teeth. Obviously, not the appropriate time, but I would take that (a situation I could handle) over a dead Newt any day.

"Guys! Help!" It was the first time I had heard the accent in his voice evaporate. It was probably from yelling so damn stridently in desperation. He held his elbow to the crook of the crank's neck, struggling to keep it from biting his face. The crank let out a loud squeal, his jaw opening so wide it looked dislocated. I couldn't see what Newt could from my view, but whatever was in the crank's mouth had disgusted to the point of nearly gagging. His eyes were wide as saucers, horrified by the decomposed flesh-eating man on top of him.

I flew to his side, body checking the teeth-gnashing crank. His body was stiff, quite strong for someone who had no motor skills. Luckily, my fragile figure was enough to knock the crank off. Beside us was a glass panel, protecting us from falling. The crank bellowed loudly as it shattered through the glass. It clawed the air in an attempt to save itself, but flew over the edge.

Thomas moved to help me, hoisting Newt up to stand.

"Thanks…" he said in astonishment.

"Just returning the favor," I explained, yanking him by the arm to continue on.

"Newt, you good?" Thomas asked; one hand on his shoulder as we strode forward.

"Yeah, thanks Tommy." He responded out of breath.

"Come on, Newt!"

"Keep going!"

I had no idea who was even yelling at this point, all I knew was that my lungs shucking hurt. They felt sharp as I inhaled in each breath, and I could feel my trachea constricting. The stamina I built up Rhea was enough to keep me going through my asthma while at WICKED's headquarters, but the dry heat of the Scorch mixed in with running for your god damn life from a mob of flesh-loving cranks was not a good amalgamation.

Aris started trafficking people through a small hallway, which, in hindsight, seemed like an awful idea but we all took a jagged right and dashed through the corridor.

We all bumped into each other, considering the hallway was only spacious enough for one, maybe two, to go through at a time.

We all halted as Thomas tried a door along the side of the antechamber. The cranks had started piling in now, crushing each other as they stampeded over one another to get to us.

"Open the door!" I screeched.

"I'm trying!"

I groaned loudly, pushing Teresa who was the closest in front of me, Thomas before her. "Just keep going! Keep shucking going!"

"Thomas!" Teresa shoved him, and we all started to stir again.

"Come on they're coming!" Winston, the last one in the hall, started to panic.

We gained some speed as we made it to the end of the hall, but it didn't matter.

"It's a dead end…" Minho whisper-shouted to the rest of us.

There were three doors to the left of us as the hallway opened up wider, but they were all bolted shut.

"Get us out of here Thomas!" Teresa cried in horror, as a few cranks let out gurgling shrieks.

Once again, just like escaping WICKED the first and second time, we all looked to Thomas for hope. As per usual, he looked utterly lost. He always found a way to escape, though. If there was anyone I trusted to get us out of this state of affairs, it was him.

The doors had a push button in the middle of them, but only one seemed to budge in the middle. There was a deadbolt connected to the framework though. Thomas nudged it, testing it's stability. It creaked as the hinge started to pull, appearing loose.

"THIS ONE!" he announced, and he and Minho got to work straight away. They took turns body-checking the door, hoping it would break. They alternated between using their feet and shoulders.

"I'll hold them back!" Winton announced. Out of nowhere, he pulled out a black pistol from his pocket. I had no idea where he had retrieved it from, but assumed it was from one of the supply runs we had done before being overrun by cranks.

He shot one bullet. Then another, and another. Not one single crank went down.

I sighed. Now was better than ever, I suppose. They needed my help and I was confident in both me and Rhea that I was ready to at least hold off an army of cranks until my friends were safe. The second I took a step forward, Newt grabbed my shoulder. I shoved him off, jogging up to Winston. I pushed him aside, snatching the pistol from his hand and checking him with my hip to move away.

I held it just like Rhea had taught me, and just like I had practiced at the safe haven. I kept the index finger of my dominant hand on the frame of the gun as I held it up. I wrapped my last three fingers around the base of the grip, tightening my sweaty pads around it. With my left hand, I placed the heel on the exposed portion of the grip, lining myself up to keep me steady. I closed when eye, aimed, and then fired.

The first crank fell down in an instant.

Another bullet went off, and the next crank went down.

"Oh my God," I heard Newt mutter.

"Yes!" Minho cheered, between thrusts against the door. I couldn't see their faces, but I didn't have to to know that they wore astonished expressions, possibly even joyful ones at my success with a handgun.

On a victorious high, I moved forward, shooting again. I was astonished at my own skill, not previously thinking I was actually this superior at shooting a gun. I had only done it at bags of sand and posters before.

"Florence!" Newt warned.

I could hear the boys slamming their shoulders into the door repeatedly. They would leave heavy bruises for the following days, but that wasn't something that should've been worried about right now.

Not wanting to waste too many bullets, and having enough room between the gaining crank and the one behind it, I put the gun away. I opted on using my fists to hold them back until I heard the victorious 'yes!' when it was opened.

I held my core tight, planted my feet on the ground as the crank in front of me swayed en route for myself. I leveled my arms with my shoulders, tucked my chin in, and then threw out a jab. It wasn't enough to kill him, but it was enough to knock the poor guy out. I slammed the heel of my sneaker in his head, cringing at the repulsive squish, and crunch it made.

Blood splattered across my pants, but I had no time to recoil, as the next one lunged for me. I punched her in the jaw, and then kicked her in the stomach, pushing her back a few feet. She faltered back a few feet, two other cranks going with her.

"Hurry!" I yelled through gritted teeth. I caught my eye on a loose brick in the hallway a few feet ahead of me. I knew Newt wouldn't like it, but I dove for it anyways. I needed something more stable, more solid to knock these shanks out.

"Get the door open!" Winston added, anger straining his voice.

I heard Newt grunt in frustration, and Winston protested, but I did so anyways. I picked it up, immediately after standing erect I used it to crash a crank's head into the wall.

I closed my mouth, and my eyes as blood and pus covered my face. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough to make me gag. And the smell, oh god, the smell. It was so rancid it made my nostrils burn, and my insides churn.

I did feel guilt for killing them, but the overpowering quest to save my friends subdued it.

"Come on Frypan! Let's go!" There was a few seconds of no talking, and then I heard a large slam against the door, and a loud squeal from the hinges. "It's open!"

"Come on come on come on!"

"Florence, come on!" Newt advocated, waiting for me. I whipped my head around to take a quick peak. Thomas' head popped out of the door, the others already filed through, and Newt and Winston where waving their hands around like windmills, waiting for me to join them.

"Come on!"

I groaned, picking up the one I had against the wall by his suit collar, and shoving him towards a young female crank and an older female.

Newt made sure I was ahead of him. As if there was some invisible barrier to cross, the second I stepped through the ajar door, Newt limped after me.

"GAHHHH!" There was a loud smack as a body hit the floor, and when I whipped around to see Winston face down against the cement, a crank yanking him by the ankles, I panicked.

"Winston!" I screamed; my voice shaky from the worry.

Newt dove for him, trying to catch his hands.

Luckily, his hands grasped the red door we had just walked through, but only a small portion of his body was through the door.

He clung onto the side of it for dear life, and the others moved to grab hold of him and endure in a game of tug-of-war between the undead.

"Help me!" He cried, obvious tears in his eyes.

Maybe we should've stayed with WICKED.

I watched as they battled out, not wanting to get in the way.

"Help! Please!" Minho and I moved around to the side of the door, bearing our weight against it to try to shut the door.

Hands swatted the air, clawing it to try to reach the rest of us.

"Please! Oh my God!" I closed my eyes, feeling the crushing guilt of not being able to save him right now, for watching him undergo such an intolerable, sinister experience.

I moved from the door, letting Minho handle it, as more of his body started to pull through our side.

Winston screamed loudly as the cranks dug their blood-caked fingernails in Winston's abdomen. I wrapped my arms around the top of his chest, trying to pull.

Eventually, we managed to save the poor bugger and pull him through, but not without a few souvenirs, like the blood that wasn't his, as well as the pus from the popped boils, and the claw marks. His pants were shredded by the ankles.

"GO GO GO!" Thomas hollered, as both Aris and I rushed to pick the boy up. "GET UP WINSTON!" We stood him on his feet, one arm under his, and staggered away from the screaming cranks.

Thomas and Minho grunted as they held their backs to the door. The lock made clanging noises as it smashed repeatedly against the frame, while the cranks tried their best to even stretch a limb through the door.

"Minho go! I'm right behind you," I wasn't so confident in Thomas' words but I had no time to look back and check. The three of us needed to get a head start with Winston being in such an ill state.

He gave it a few seconds, but then I heard him holler like he was ready for some great escape. His voice had hope like he actually believed we were going to make it, which was much different than the time he had abandoned Thomas and I in the maze. He was a changed man. "Let's go let's go!" he said it like it was one word.

Seconds afterward I heard the cranks scream in anticipation, their gruesome gurgles and their croaking cheers. The door was open, and all we could do was run.

I saw Thomas' flashlight beam up and down, up and down. It was from him hurtling his body forward, scampering away from the advancing mob of death.

I started to heave breaths, which sounded more like sobs. I saw Aris peer over at me, to make sure I wasn't blubbering over the situation. There were tears in my eyes, but mostly because I was worried.

I could hear them broadcasting their victory as they got closer and closer, and we started to lose space between us and them as Winston slowed down, completely bearing his weight on us.

"Go go go!" Newt screamed from behind us.

I let out whimpers as the three of us pushed further, practically carrying Winston's limp body.

We were in some abandoned parking lot. It was much darker here, without the aid of electricity out here to help us, and much colder considering half of the garage had caved in.

The good news was there were plenty of places for us to hide, the bad news was, one: we couldn't climb, and two: we wouldn't have enough time to hide.

"We gotta get Winston somewhere safe. If we don't they're gonna catch up," I vocalized truthfully, hoping the rest of our squad of WICKED candidates would start throwing suggestions. "We can't run all night, not without weapons anyways."

"I have an idea…" Newt vouched.

He ran ahead of the three of us, running backwards as he vocalized his devised plan.

"You three—Winston, Aris, Florence. We'll find a place for you to hide. We'll conceal you so those… Freaks!—so they can't get you. A-And then the rest of us distract the group. We'll leave you with the launcher in case."

"No!" Teresa griped, "No don't leave her with the launcher… We can't trust her!"

"Are you serious?!" I leaned my head over Winston's shoulder, eyebrows raised. "We'll die without protection.

"Really? Because back there it looked like you could fend for yourself, Flo." She said it in a condescending way, like she was suspicious of me hiding something.

Newt groaned, running forward while he threw his head over his shoulder to talk to us. "Just—bloody find somewhere to hide. We'll find a way to loop around and meet you back there."

"And if the cranks come for us?" I asked.

Thomas jogged up to me, "Take this," He offered quietly—handing me a crowbar from god knows where.

"Thanks, Tom."I nodded to him, smiling.

"Are you sure about this?" I hollered at the others.

I could see Newt's face break, as he contemplated about what to do. He knew coming with Aris and I would attract the cranks. There would be too many of us, but I know he also trusted me more than most of the people here to take care of Winston, so he didn't want t swap me out for someone else. Besides, there wasn't enough time.

"I'm sure," He said, in his endearing British accent of his. I knew it broke him to say that. For once, he was making the decision for us to split, for us to divide one again.

Aris and I pushed our shouting leg muscles even further, clenching our jaw and gritting our teeth. I took a hold of the crow bar, and we darted to the right. "You guys go left! We'll find somewhere to hide." I told them, readjusting my hold on a whining Minho.

"We'll find a way back," Newt's eyes locked with mine, "I promise."

His voice echoed against the cement walls of the carp park. We staggered over cement rubble, and dodged abandoned cars swathed in dust.

Despite the conversation we had earlier, I know Newt still cared for me. I know the short love we shared wasn't just 'nothing' to him. I knew that maybe we were separated right now, maybe he wasn't ready to be together but somehow, someway we would come crawling back to each other, even if it took WICKED holding us back while surrounded by a bunch of cranks, we would.

He might've been confused, he might've not felt the same desire I felt for him at this very moment, but I knew the moment my lips met his in WICKED's damn utility garage, that there was something there. It felt like home. He felt like home.

It was similar to cup of warm cocoa on a winter's day, or dipping your feet into cold water in the scorching hot sun. It was like receiving your first puppy as a child. It was like holding a newborn baby, or the sensation of being cozy on a rainy Sunday. Waking up Christmas morning. It was like satisfaction after finishing a brilliant book, or tears after hearing a song so moving—that you felt the passion in your soul.

He was home to me. Along with Thomas, Minho, Frypan, hell, even Teresa who was so inevitably against me right now.

It tore my freakin' heart out knowing that I couldn't hold his lean figure, that I couldn't nuzzle my head into his chest, or listen to his heartbeat while I fell asleep on his chest without wondering if he actually wanted me to do so.

I wasn't completely confident that somehow, the four of them would outrun the cranks and loop back around to join us. We would make it through the night. We would.

I nodded to him, saying only two words that I knew were the only ones he needed to hear to allow himself to go.

"I know."

I apologize sincerely for the short chapter... I know that the recent ones have been shorter. I'll try to make them longer next time. Thank you sincerely to everyone reviewing. I hope you enjoy this chap, let me know what you think!

This part in the movie was quite weird, but I thought it'd be a good way to provide improv. Also i thought it would be a good chance for Aris and Florence to rekindle. In the movie they just end up running and running, then the screen fades and they're safe under some sort of concrete canopy. It doesn't explain how they got to safety or how the cranks didn't notice them, so I thought I'd change this part up a bit. They're only going to be apart for like a quarter of a chapter, but I might make it slightly different then the movie for this scene, just because I don't want the whole fanficiton to be Florence following them around and occasionally adding in her speaking.

Thanks for the review from moonygilbert, guest 1, herherondaletotherescue, and hatgurl729. LEt me know your thoughts on these! Also if you didn't see my last authors note please please read it. I need opinions because I don't want to disappoint my readers! I think I will have Florence join Newt and the others when they get split from Brenda and Tom but I'm still curious on a mature chapter, or just elude to something mature and have a one shot separate for it. Let me know :)

ALSO: knarl made me the most fantastic trailer to this. If you haven't yet watched it, go to the profile kelsey p on youtube. It is absolutely amazing and I will link it to my profile tomorrow, so look out for it! Its absolutely amazing. Please check it out. Please pleas please.