Here you was, in the scorch.

After escaping you're father, janson, and faking your death, you was surviving alone in the scorch. Once you found out how horrible janson actually was, you wasted no time in planning a escape route. Which is what happened, now he thinks you're dead. So you're safe from him.

As you was walking alone, you could feel someone watching. But as observant you was, you still was prepared when you felt a pair of a strong hand grab you and pin you against the wall. As if in instinct, you fought back. Taking out your pocket knife and switching positions, the person now pinned against the wall with the cold blade against their adams apple.

It was a boy. He looked about your age. 16 or 17. He had blonde hair, and dark brown eyes. He was quite attractive, if you said so yourself.

Newt was seperated from his friends, thomas, teresa, minho, frypan, aris, and Winston after they escaped WCKD.

You:" who the hell are you."

you said sternly. You're sharp eyes staring into his soul. Newt spoke, his British accent sending chills down your spine.

Newt:" i should be asking you the same."

he said. His eyes cold. And sharp. Just like yours.