Murder In The Maze (Maze Runner Fanfiction)

Chapter 37: The Grievers Are Coming

     The evening sun begins to set, falling behind the west wall.  An uneasy tension grows amongst the Gladers.  The delay of the Gathering leaves unanswered questions; rumours of why Alby is missing circulate quicker than expected, despite the dangers we all face.  Griever moans and screams come closer with each passing moment.  Minho gave us weapons - spears and wooden bats - but what good will they do?  Soon, the Maze doors should close, securing us for the night.

     Inside the Homestead, most of the others retire, hiding in case of a Griever wandering into the Glade.  From my room, the western Door is visible, towering over me.  A handful of Gladers huddle in the far corner of my room: Thomas, Chuck, Jeff, Zart, and Maximus - the gardener.  

     "They won't close," Thomas' glum figure comes into view as he steps to the window.

     "What?"

     Thomas continues, pointing towards the Maze door, "The doors, they won't close."

     "Wh--how would you know that?" I question.

     Thomas cocks his head to the side.  He clenches his jaw, the muscles tensing.  "It's...how we designed it," his eyes drop to the floor, "we have to get out of here, or we're all dead."

     "How?" I inquire.

     He scratches his head.  "The way out, it's through the Maze, where the Grievers come from."

     "Through the Maze?"  My heart sinks to the floor.

     "Sounds peachy," Newt declares, appearing suddenly from behind me.  A burst of happiness jolts through me.  Almost instinctively, I fling my arms around him, stifling him in a hug.

     "You're back!" I exclaim in excitement.

     "Yeah," he scoffs playfully.  He briefly pauses before continuing, "Things seem a bit pear-shaped around here.  What's goin' on?"

     Releasing my tight grip, I bring my arms back to my sides.  A dark cloud of gloom falls over me once again.  "You missed...a lot. We found the killer, but now there's bigger pro--"

     "Wait, you found him?" Newt interjects, "Wha--who is it?"

     "It was..." I stop, the words lying heavily on my tongue.  A slither of doubt rests in my mind, despite the evidence of my eyes.  "...Alby."

     "No," Newt shakes his head vigorously, "that's not possible.  I know him, Tammie, better than most.  He wouldn't do this; it ain't him."

     "He tried to kill me last night."

     Newt's mouth gapes open, his face blank in disbelief.

     I shrug uncomfortably.  "I don't know much else; it's all happening so fast."

     "What is?"

     "Everything: first Alby, then Thomas woke up, and now the Grievers are coming and the doors won't close," I respond, "Something strange is going on here."

     Another shriek booms across the Glade - this time closer than the last.  A chill of fear shoots up from my spine.  Goosebumps riddle my arms, and the hair on the back of my neck rises.  I scramble to the window, peeking my head outside.

     The harsh wind whips across my face, carrying a foul odour of gunge mixed with petrol.  By the West Door, a metal limb steps out from the shadows, then another, and another.  The dark creature steps into the Glade, its appendages tapping up and down like that of a spider's.  The soft glow of torches reflects off the Griever's slimy skin.  Ragged fangs line its mouth - chittering together - as saliva oozes down onto the ground.  The Griever scuttles across the Glade, sheltering itself behind the trees about ten feet away.

     Another of them comes, this time from the South Gate.  Before I can react, a hand grabs my shoulder, tugging me backwards.

     "Stay down," Newt whispers, crouching below the window.

     Maximus creeps over to the other window, popping his head up.  His eyes widen exponentially as his face twists in horror.  "Oh, no! What is that?" he remarks, his gravelly voice surprisingly high.

     Jeff stretches his arm over and yanks him down.  "Get down!" he warns sternly yet still in a hushed voice.

     "That," Newt breaks for emphasis before continuing, "is a Griever."  He motions in the direction of the windows.  "Those things'll kill ya in one swipe, or sting you, send you crazy."

     "Well, they're supposed to," I mumble, my gaze reverting to Thomas.

     "We're going to die," Maximus states plainly as if already accepting his end.  "Will it hurt?"

     "Slim it, will ya?  Those things'll hear your grumbling," Newt comments.

     "Maybe we can wait them out," Jeff adds optimistically.

     Newt puts his finger against his mouth.  "Shh!  All of you, quiet!"

     "Let us in!" a voice cries from outside.

     Another voice continues, "Hurry!"

     I shoot up from the ground and towards the window. Below this floor, two Gladers rattle the boarded doors, pleading for entry.

     Thomas joins me by the window.  "We have to help them!"

     "It's too late," my voice trails off.

     As I speak, a Griever crawls closer, approaching the Gladers.  Its mechanical legs glide over the ground as it gains speed.  Two metallic claws stretch out from the Griever's face.  In mere seconds, the creature dives towards the group.  The serrated arms tear through the first man.  Crimson blood stains the blades as its claws retract; the body falls limp to the ground.

     My heart beats louder in my chest as the horrific scene plays out; the constant pounding echos through my head.  My mind begs me to help, but I can't.  It is too late.

     The Griever's claws recoil before lashing out once again.  Simultaneously, a handful of slender needles fire at him.  The Glader falls unconscious as his opponent grabs him, cradling him with its legs.  It props him on its back before retreating to the Maze.  The Griever scampers off into the darkness, disappearing almost as quickly as it appeared.

     Peeling my eyes away, I press my back against the wall, sliding to the ground.  A sickly sensation overcomes me, clouding my senses.

     "We have to leave this place," Thomas mutters, his voice barely audible.

     Chuck's muffled sobs fill the room.  Everyone else stares blankly at the floor as if contemplating what happened.

     "Will they be back?" Jeff questions, breaking the silence.

     Newt shifts his focus to Jeff, his face resolute.  "We're not gonna stick around to find out."