Newt tried his best to move as fast as he could, which frustratingly wasn't really fast. Sure, the Tommy doppleganger didn't appear very threatening but the Maze had taught them that non-threatening stuff and people could always be extremely threatening. It didn't help that he looked exactly like Tommy but was also most evidently not Tommy. That made no sense at all in Newts mind. The only way it made sense was if it was Wicked messing with his brain. Newt was not about to stop to find out.
Thomas' lookalike caught up with him and didn't even seem to be out of breath for his efforts. Newt tried his best to ignore him but with Thomas' voice escaping him, it was hard not to look to that voice for some form of comfort and guidance. The lookalike explained his name was Stuart and Newt frowned deeply. He supposed he looked like a Stuart but that helped him how? Stuart didn't appear to be in any hurry to attack him, so that meant he was definitely not a griever but it also didn't mean he had no ill will towards Newt.
The other brandished the object in his hand that tugged at Newts mind. He knew what that was but he couldn't locate the word for it, and it hurt his brain to try for very long. Whatever it was called, Stuart claimed he had contacted Tommy on it which made him even more distrustful of the older male. Because he was older... at least a couple years, if not more. Stuart was asking him not to run and explaining that he wanted to help. That Thomas had answered his message.
Newt hesitated. He was in a lot of pain and Stuart wasn't even sweating. In fact, he was walking which meant Newt was not going very fast at all. He was alarmed to see he wasn't even walking at this point but dragging his leg every few inches. He stopped and looked around but the moment his body lost its state of motion, it lost its strength and adrenaline as well. Newt dropped to the ground for a third time that night, this time breaking his fall with his arms instinctively, keeping from hurting his leg further. He shivered, the sweat sticking to him causing the slight rush of wind through the trees to icily caress his skin.
"Just... what's your game? You're from Wicked and you're messin' with my bloody head and you're jacked if you think I'm going to trust you ... if you're going to kill me, shucking do it already."