Murder In The Maze (Maze Runner Fanfiction)

Chapter 8: She Ain't No Runna

     Alby emerges from the crowd of Gladers, his eyes flaming with anger. A flood of annoyance flushes over me at the thought of this day getting even worse. I push myself up from the ground, stumbling as I try to regain my balance.

"Tanya!"

     His voice booms across the Glade as conversation flourishes from the others, each one whispering something indistinctive to the next. All the faces blur together as I focus on Alby, standing in an almost defensive position. His face fumes with anger as he continues, "What were you thinkin'?"

     I clench my jaw, refraining from saying something I might later regret. Confusion soon replaces my anger at his sudden outburst, I didn't do anything wrong. Before I can rise to my defence, Minho responds, "Dude did you not see that? Me and this shank just outran a Griever!"

     "You know the rules, Minho!" Alby snaps, turning to face Minho, who scoffs in almost disbelief. "What rule?" I say while simultaneously gripping my fists. Almost ignoring me, Alby continues, "She's ain't a runna'!"

     Only mere whispers can be heard from the other Gladers like they're not even there.  I vaguely remember something about 'never going into the maze unless you're a runner,' but I didn't realize it was that important.

     His gaze is soon fixed on me, almost like it's holding me in place.  Alby turns back to face Minho, leaning over, and mutters something to him in a hushed tone.  

     "Get back to work, all of you!"  Alby growls and begins marching towards the Homestead, Minho reluctantly jogging after him.  The crowd of Gladers disperse back to their jobs, talking amongst themselves.

     A part of me just wants to hide away somewhere and forget about the whole thing, but curiosity gets the better of me.  I approach Alby and Minho, resisting the urge to argue at how ridiculous this whole thing is.  Upon almost reaching them, Alby's stern voice can be heard.

     "Ain't no Greebeans allowed in the Maze, ever!  I can't let that go, any shank'll be wandering off in.  We got the rules for a reason."  Gripping my jaw, I listen to what Minho has to say, "Quit bein' such a slinthead, Alby.  I asked her, ain't like she wandered off by herself." 

     "It don't matter why she went out, ain't no shank allowed to break the rules, they're what keep us alive." Before he continues, Alby's anger seemingly subsides a little, "A night in the slammer, you best be glad it ain't more." 

     With that, he storms off towards the homestead. The dusk light reveals Minho's face, with an almost pitiful expression, "Sorry Greenie, I tried."   As if getting almost eaten alive by a giant Griever wasn't bad enough, now I have to spend a night in the slammer.

     Looking past Minho, I glance over at the Homestead. Fading sunlight bounces off the wooden shack, casting shadows on the emerald grass around it. The Gladers prepare for the night, throwing blankets and sheets on the ground, some playfully chasing each other across the Glade. The sight would almost make me forget everything that happened.

     I am soon snapped out of my daze by Gally, who seems to have appeared from no-where, "C'mon Greenie."  He says, in a monotone voice. 

     I shift my gaze to look at Minho, but he already left. Turning back to Gally, I respond, "How did you get here so fast?"  Brushing off my question, Gally loosely grips my arm as we start walking towards the slammer.

     "I can't believe Alby got so angry!"   I state, shrugging my shoulders in annoyance, "I almost died, and that's what he's worried about, my job."  I search Gally's face for some sign of agreement, but he just remains in deep thought, devoid of expression.  "Gally?"  I ask, in a hesitant tone.

"It's not like he didn't have a point, Greenie."

     He responds, slowing his walking pace as we approach the slammer.  "You broke the rules, Greenbean.  Notta' mention you could've died."  

     I huff in frustration before we arrive at the slammer, "Yeah well, I suppose it might have its perks, at least I won't have to hear you snoring tonight."  Ruffling his brows in confusion, Gally reaches for the slammer door, pulling back a metal latch, "I don't snore, Greenbean."

     "Yeah, keep telling yourself that." I say sarcastically, before looking down at my new cell.  Lunging in through the open hatch, a musty scent bombards my nose, like no-one's been down here in a while.

     Through the dim light I can make out some of my surroundings, a wooden seat lies in the far corner of the room.  The floor must be concrete judging by the sound it makes when I walk, giving the room a cool temperature.  I hobble over to a bed beside one of the walls.  White linen covers a metal grate, propped by chains hooked to the wall.

     "Sleep well."  Gally mutters, before slamming the hatch door shut.  The hatch door itself has iron bars across it, letting in a small amount of the remaining sunlight.  

     I groggily slop myself on the bed, groaning in annoyance.  "Hey Alby, maybe you should spend a night in here, see how you like it."   I mumble to myself, not expecting anyone to hear me.

"You shouldn't be sayin' that, Tanya. Maybe he'd hear and plonk ya in here another night."

     Newt's voice gives me a strange comfort, knowing I'm not alone in this stinking cell.  "Thought I'd come by, shanks go crazy in this place by themselves. I leave for one day and ya already fightin' a Griever."   I jump to my feet and rush towards the door, wrapping my fingers around the cold iron bars, "It wasn't intentional...  How do you do that every day?"  

     Newt glances from side to side before sitting down at the hatch door, "It can get tough out there, but finding a way out of this buggin' Maze?  That's what keeps me goin'."

     His words fill me with a sense of hope, maybe there is a way out of this place.  An awkward silence fills the cell like we both don't quite know what to say. Changing the subject, Newt breaks the tension, "Anyway, what happened with ya? Didn't get a chance to ask when you came bursting through 'em doors."

      "I saw something... a Griever I suppose, in the Maze. There's not much to say, I just ran as fast as I could, didn't look back."   I reply, my eyes drawn back to the gate before continuing, "What would've happened, if I'd been 'stung'?"

     A glimpse of sadness passes over Newt's face, before being speedily struck away, "Ya go crazy, worse if ya don't get the serum quick enough."  Questions run rampant through my mind; none of this seems to make any sense, "What's the Changing? Minho mentioned it earlier."

     "Whenever 'em shanks get the serum, they see things and that, memories or somethin'. Usually takes a couple of weeks to get better fully."   He says while fidgeting with his fingers.

     "Usually?" I ask, fishing for more answers.   Newt looks up and lets out a little scoff, "C'mon Greenie, that's enough questions for one night.  Get some rest if ya can."