Good Grief (TMR fic)

Chapter 46

"How was the run?"

I lean my head on Newt's shoulder. "Fine, I guess. We followed another Griever to the Cliff. It was weird, we couldn't see it falling when we looked over the edge. We're thinking there might be an invisible floor lower down, but we didn't have time to check it out. How was the Glade?"

"We didn't get our weekly shipment of supplies," Newt says, quietly.

"And the sun is gone, so the crops will die..." It's easy to see that things aren't going well.

"Yeah. We're... in a bit of trouble."

"More than a bit of trouble." Alby's voice makes us both jump, and I look back at him.

"Wait, why?"

"Check your watch, Greenie. The Doors didn't close."

I feel numbness invade my body. "But..." Then I take a breath, and force myself to think. I am a survivor.

"We need to get moving," I say, standing up quickly. "Are we hiding in the Homestead?"

Alby nods. "I told the Builders to start fortifying windows."

"Good. They can work on the doors once we're mostly done bringing things inside. Frypan will need all of the food that won't go bad brought in, we might end up under siege. Tools from the barns can be used as weapons if they're trying to break through – shovels and pitchforks and things. Med-jacks need to make sure they're organized and ready, and-"

"Hold up a minute, Ash," Alby says. "Newt? Get this girl whatever she needs. She's got a good head on her shoulders, she'll help organize. I'm going to go talk to the other Gladers, make sure we're all on the same page and see if they have ideas."

"We should split the Runners up into different rooms," I say, Newt pulling out his yellow notepad and scribbling down my instructions. "They're used to the Maze and will help keep everyone from panicking. They should also be the main ones with weapons; I don't trust scared boys to be armed."

"Should we keep everyone in the center of the Homestead, or as close to it as we can, or by the windows and doors to fend them off?" Newt asks.

I pause slightly. Newt is especially good at asking insightful questions. No wonder Alby relies on him so much.

"Sloppers go in the middle, along with Med-jacks. We need to protect the Med-jacks so they can patch the rest of us up, and the Sloppers are the ones who aren't good at the other jobs, so they won't be much help. Runners are in charge of the room they're in; Builders make sure it stays secure when the Grievers are trying to break through. Slicers and Track-hoes are in charge of keeping them out, everyone else is backup and makes sure all the Gladers stay nice and quiet."

Since Alby ordered Newt to help me, the Gladers do what I say, and it's easy for me to fit into the rhythm of being a leader. I'm not like Thomas, optimistic and charismatic, but I know how to stare death in the face and call its bluff.

I just have to hope that we can make it out tonight.

~~
A/N: Thank you all who have been reading my story, the votes and comments mean a lot!! Reading through the comments this morning had me grinning like an idiot, I'm so glad y'all found this story.