Hi! This is my first story, and it's a continuation of The Death Cure, and an alternate ending.
Two explosions rocked both sides of the storage room at the same time and the walls themselves collapsed inward, throwing chunks of brick and cement in all directions. Debris rained down on Thomas and Minho. Dust clouded the air and shadowy figures surrounded Thomas, swaying and falling and getting back up again. Thomas was on his feet, moving, heading in the direction of the maintenance room.
Pieces of the ceiling fell crashing and exploding. The sounds were awful, deafening. The ground shook violently; bombs continued to detonate over and over, seemingly everywhere at once. Thomas fell; Minho jerked him to his feet. A few seconds later Minho fell; Thomas yanked and dragged until they were both running again. Teresa suddenly appeared in front of Thomas, terror in her eyes. He thought he saw Brenda nearby as well, all of them struggling to keep their balance as they moved forward.
A splintering, shattering noise split the air so loudly that Thomas looked back. His eyes drifted upward, where a massive section of the ceiling had torn loose. He watched, hypnotized, as it fell toward him. Brenda appeared in the corner of his vision, her image barely discernible through the clogged air. Her body slammed into his, shoving him toward the maintenance room. His mind emptied as he stumbled backward and fell, just as the huge piece of the building landed on top of Brenda, pinning her body; only her head and an arm jutted out from under its girth.
"Brenda!" Thomas screamed an unearthly sound that somehow rose above everything else. He scrambled toward her. Blood streaked her face and her arm looked crushed.
He shouted her name again, in his mind thinking of Chuck, blood everywhere as he fell to the ground, and Newt's bulging eyes. Three of Thomas' closest friends in the world and WICKED had taken all of them from him.
"Brenda…I…," he whispered to her, his throat hurt too much to be able to talk.
Her mouth moved trying to speak, and he leaned in closer to be able to hear.
"I'm sorry…for lying…" she whispered. "You… and Jorge… my best friends…"
Thomas couldn't bare it.
"Thomas," she whispered, as Thomas leaned in closer on the verge of tears, "I…"
And then Thomas was being dragged to his feet, yanked away from her. He didn't have the energy or will to fight it. She was gone. His body ached with pain; his heart stung. Teresa and Minho pulled him up got his feet under him. The three of them lurched forward, pushed ahead. A fire had started burning gaping hole left by an explosion-smoke billowed and churned with the thick dust. Thomas coughed but only heard roaring in his ears.
Another resounding boom shattered the air; Thomas turned his head as he ran to see the back wall of the storage room exploding, falling to the ground in pieces, flames licking through the open spaces. The remainder of the ceiling above it began to collapse, any support now gone. Every last inch of the building was coming down once and for all.
They reached the door to the maintenance room, squeezed inside just in time to see Gally disappear through the through the Flat Trans. Everyone else was already gone. Thomas stumbled with his friends across the short aisle between the tables. In seconds they'd be dead. The sounds of things crashing and crumbling behind Thomas grew impossibly louder, cracks and creaks and squeals of metal and the hollow roar of flames. All of it rose to an unimaginable pitch; Thomas refused to look, though he sensed it all coming down, as if it were just feet away, its leading edge breathing against his neck. He pushed Teresa through the Trans. The world collapsing around him and Minho.
Together they jumped into the icy gray wall.