50. Mourning for a friend

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I didn't know where I got my courage from, and whether it was courage at all and not perhaps madness. It was probably the thought of Newt, who was in danger and whom I wanted to protect at all costs. I ducked behind the bonnet, crawled up to the snout of the car and crouched there, ready to pounce.
In the next second the man reached us and pointed his gun at my friends as I jumped off and threw him to the ground. I pushed him down with all the strength I had and managed to rip his gun out of his hand.
With a loud scream he tried to push me away from him, but I pulled my knife out of my trousers and was about to stab when he grabbed my throat and squeezed. Gurgling for air, I waved the knife around but couldn't reach him. Just as he was about to turn me around, a dull thud sounded and his grip on my throat immediately loosened.
Startled, I looked up and realised that Newt had snatched the rifle from Jorge's hand and knocked the man out with it. I broke free of his limp grip and jumped to my feet. Newt dropped the rifle and wrapped his arms around me. Relieved that we were all okay, I leaned against him.
"Okay, all right, is everyone fine?" Jorge asked as he picked up his rifle again.
"What do we do with him now?" Brenda nudged the unconscious man with her foot.
"Do we have to kill him?" Fry Pan asked in horror.
Newt shook his head. "We'll leave him lying there. Let's tie him up so he can't call for help as soon as he wakes up. By the time anyone finds him, we'll be long gone."
"The only question is when Vince and Harriet will finally come," Fry Pan now stated.
"I'd say all we can do is wait. Come on, get in the car, if anyone else is looking for us, they won't be able to see us there so soon."
Jorge opened a back door and we got in silently.
When the four of us had squeezed into the back seat, which suited me just fine because I could feel it getting colder, Brenda asked what was probably on Newt and Fry Pan's minds, too.
"What the hell happened that you guys got WICKED all of a sudden?"
"Marcus betrayed us. He called Janson when he spotted us."
"Janson?" Newt raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Did he come himself?"
I nodded. "He was there. Had one arm in a sling, but he still tried to shoot me."
"Anna jumped out of a window," Thomas interjected.
Now Newt looked at me, completely perplexed. "What are you doing if I leave you alone? I thought you promised to be careful!"
"Tommy caught me. And besides, I had no choice. Either I jump or Janson knocks me out and takes me with him. Would you have liked that better?"
Newt was silent. He was still looking at me with wide eyes.
"And the girl? Have you spoken to her?" Fry Pan asked now.
"Yes, we have spoken to her. She gave us a date when the subjects will be taken by train to another facility. Then we can free Minho, she said," Thomas told them.
"When is that?"
"In five months," I said tonelessly.
No one said anything. Newt and Fry Pan looked from me to Thomas in horror, Brenda and Jorge fell silent in dismay.
"Oh shit..." the girl mumbled at one point, breaking the silence.
"So what are we going to do?" Fry Pan asked.
"What can we do, Pan? We have to wait and see. We have no other option..."
"But we can't leave Minho with them for so long! They'll kill him..."
"No..." Newt looked thoughtfully out the broken window. "No, they won't. They know he's the best way to bait us."
Again we fell silent and hung our thoughts.
"Francesca said something about Gally," Thomas stated at one point.
Fry Pan, whose best friend had been Gally, brightened.
"What did she say? Anything important?"
I slapped my hand resignedly against the front seat where Brenda sat huddled together. "Nothing we could understand. The connection broke and only scraps came in. I don't know if it was something we didn't already know."
"Who was this Gally anyway?" Brenda asked.
"He was our friend, in the maze. Crazy guy... But our friend," Fry Pan said quietly.
"He was my best friend," I added. "Even before the maze."
"He was in love with you."
Newt's voice had lost all its colour and he looked fixedly out of the window.
Now there was another silence. But this time it wasn't thoughts of WICKED or Minho that kept us silent. Newt's words had thrown me completely off track yet another time and the others seemed to notice.
"You knew," I said tonelessly.
It was not a question, but a statement.
"Everyone knew. Except you, apparently."
Now I looked questioningly at Fry Pan. He looked at me apologetically, as if he could help it.
"Did he tell you?" I asked him.
"We've talked about it now and then.... But he mostly made it up with himself..."
"Why didn't anyone ever tell me?"
"We thought you knew. Or at least suspected it..."
"I didn't... I mean, it wouldn't have changed a thing. But it's kind of a weird feeling knowing now that he..." My voice broke.
And suddenly all the feelings came up again. All the sadness, the anger at WICKED, the despair.
"It's just... I just miss him so much, you know, Pan? I regret not getting it, that there was something that came between us.... I feel like there were things that should have been said, and now it's too late for that." Tears ran down my cheeks and I couldn't suppress the first sob.
"I miss him, too..." Fry Pan said and I could hear his voice breaking, too.
I looked up at him and could see that his eyes were also filled with tears. The sight of him grieving for his friend as much as I was gave me another sting and I could no longer hold back my grief. I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead against his shoulder. He put his arms around me and now we were both crying and just holding each other.
The fact that Gally was really dead and would not come back became clearer to me at that moment than ever before. I could imagine what it must be like for the other four to sit in that broken down car with us and watch as we lay in each other's arms and cried. But I didn't care what Jorge and Brenda thought of us. Thomas too could think what he wanted at that moment. I knew he couldn't understand how I could even mourn him after everything Gally had done. I didn't even care what Newt thought of me at that moment. I didn't know if I should be angry with him for keeping from me what he had known about Gally for the past three years. I was aware that he had been afraid that I might have turned away from him and chosen Gally instead. He had not known, as I had, that no one could ever come into my life whom I would love more than him. And no matter how many times I told him that, I was sure he would never understand how much I loved him.

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