The Lovesick Shank

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 After assigning the Keepers their jobs, I walked around the Glade, helping where I could. Carrying supplies here, giving the Builders their dinner there. Just as I was walking to the Bloodhouse to see if the Slicers needed my help, Tommy ran up. "Newt!" he yelled, "You have to listen to me!"

I sighed, annoyed. This was about the girl, wasn't it? "Make it quick," I said.

"You've gotta let the girl go. Teresa."

"Ah, glad you guys are buddies now," I said. Then I started to walk away. If I was most likely going to be dead by Dawn tomorrow, I definitely did not want to spend my last evening listening to the Greenie obsess over some girl, the only girl in the Glade or no. "Don't waste my time, Tommy."

Thomas grabbed my arm. "Listen to me! There's something about her- I think she and I were sent here to help end this whole thing."

I pulled away from him angrily. "Yeah- end it by lettin' the bloody Grievers waltz in here and kill us? I've heard some sucky plans in my day, Greenie, but that's got 'em all beat." Shuck it, the whole thing was even worse than the plan that got James cut in half. Thanks to the girl and her Ending, intentional or not, Minho, Alby, me, and even Thomas would end up dead by the claws of the Grievers.

Thomas's reply was to groan loudly. "I think... I think we're here as some part of weird experiment, or test, or something like that. But it's supposed to end somehow. We can't live here forever- whoever sent us here wants it to end. One way or another."

I rubbed my eyes, suddenly feeling exhausted. "And that's supposed to convince me that everything's jolly- that I should let the girl go? Because she came and everything is suddenly do-or-die?"

"No, you're missing the point. I don't think she has anything to do with us being here. She's just a pawn- they sent her here as our last tool or hint or whatever to help us get out. And I think they sent me, too. Just becuase she was the trigger for the ending doesn't make her bad," Tommy replied, all in one breath.

I sighed, my head spinning. What if it really was all a test? If so, a test for what? I shook my head and decided not to think on it too much.

Just focus on getting through the bloody night.

I looked over to the Slammer. "You know what, I don't buggin' care right now. She can handle one more night in there- if anything, she'll be safer than us." There would be 2 feet of concrete between her and the Grievers, and the one window in the iron door was too small for one to fit into. A pity we couldn't stuff the whole Glade inside the Slammer.

Thomas, luckily, didn't protest anymore, nodding. "Okay, we get through tonight, somehow," he said, obviously not realizing how hard it was to fight off Grievers. But he was the magic greenie, wasn't he? He'd fought off four off them. "Tomorrow, when we have a whole day of safety, we can figure out what to do with her. Figure out what we're supposed to do."

It was almost sad. I remembered when I'd been full of that same ambition, desire to get us out, belief that nothing was impossible. Thomas would fall, hard, with that ambition driving him. I just hoped it wasn't literally. So I rained on his parade, snorting, "Tommy, what's gonna make tomorrow any different? It's been two bloody years, ya know."

His expression didn't change in the slightest. He still looked freaking optimistic.

But I knew. I had seen, from the top of that wall in the Maze. There was no way out.

Thomas said, "Because now we have to solve it. We'll be forced to. We can't live that way anymore, day to day, thinking that what matters most is getting back to the Glade before the Doors close, snug and safe."

I wanted to shake him until he saw sense. You're telling us to stay out there while the walls move?"

"Exactly. That's exactly what I'm talking about," Tommy said, still annoyingly hopeful, "And maybe we could barricade or blow up the entrance to the Griever hole. Buy us time to analyze the Maze."

He did have a point, I supposed. I nodded towards the homestead. "Alby's the one who won't let the girl out. That guy's not too high on you two shanks," I said. Frankly, if Alby didn't want the girl to be let out, I couldn't let her out, even if she was the freaking key to the door out of the place. I sighed. "But right now we just gotta slim ourselves and get to the wake-up."

Tommy nodded, "We can fight 'em off," he said, his hand drifting down to his runner knife belt.

With a jab of grief, I recognized it as the one I had worn. It was still stained in spots with my blood from my fall.

I opened my mouth to point it out, then closed it again. He didn't need to know anything about my Runner days. Instead, I sighed again, and said, "Done it before, haven't you, Hercules?"

And I limped away, before the conversation could get anymore painful.

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