Sticks and Stones

Chapter 17: Plan

The rest of night was spent in mostly silence as people tried to get some rest after the harrowing events of the evening. Vince refused to allow anyone near the camp, just in case, and most particularly because it was now so dark it would be easy for someone to get hurt wandering dazedly about in the mess below.

With his firm order, most lay down and tried to sleep – others didn't even bother trying as they just sat and waited the night out.

The teens who remained of Group A and B were of the latter group. Newt refused to let go of Rachel's hand, and eventually she sat between the blond teen's legs, leaning against his chest as he held her tightly in his arms. Frypan sat close to them, needing the comfort of familiar faces; while Thomas sat far apart from the group.

They let him, leaving him to have some privacy to nurse the wounds Teresa had inflicted on him with her betrayal and to come to terms with the fact that Minho had been taken. He needed the time alone, it was just who he was.

But they all knew that each of them were struggling to bear with the same weights that now lay heavily on Thomas's shoulders. The first, Teresa's betrayal, was a bitter pill for all of them to swallow as well... and Minho's capture was something they were all affected by.

Minho had been one of the bravest Gladers, and as Keeper of the Runners he had been highly respected. More than that, he had been Newt's friend for two years – the only two years they remembered. He was a friend for life; and to have him yanked away like that... well, it wasn't any easier for Newt than it was for Thomas.

Rachel too had grown close to the Asian boy, despite his constant teasing; the two had clicked instantly, feeling an instant understanding that came from both of them being runners. They thought alike – when Minho thought at all – in the way they were constantly looking for openings and escape routes, just in case they needed to run; in the way they fiercely trusted their wits in the face of danger.

And Sonya had been like that, too, Rachel thought with another pang.

There were those extra losses for her, having gotten to know the Group A boys but first and foremost having come from Maze B.

Sonya and Aris's capture was another painful ache in her heart; now Aris was back in the hellhole he'd helped her escape – the hell he'd promised her he'd help her escape. And Sonya was only back there because she'd been looking out for Aris, Rachel was certain of this; the blonde runner was just as strong and as fast as Rachel. She would have had a chance to make it if she'd broken off and escaped – but she'd never abandon a comrade.

The thoughts continued to swirl in Rachel's mind for the rest of the night, as it did for all of them.

It was a very wearied and depressed group that got up when the sun rose over the mountains. There were a lot of things to do before they did anything else – first, they needed to scour the camp to salvage whatever they could from the mess that WCKD had made of their supplies.

Then, there were the dead to honor. The wounded had been treated to during the night, but the dead still deserved a proper cover, even if they couldn't afford to bury them. The mountain ground was too rocky and hard to try, and they just didn't have the luxury of time even if they would try.

The teens got up with the others, helping collect whatever supplies they managed to find, and packing them away. Vince meanwhile led a team to gather the dead in a line, covering them with fabrics as they lay to rest forever.

The sun was reaching midday by the time they finished, and Rachel stood up after packing up all the scattered medical supplies she'd managed to salvage from the dirty ground. She looked over to see Newt squatting down beside an overturned barrel, staring at a piece of WCKD armour silently.