Losing Hope

Five

It had been a few days since I had arrived in the Glade. So far, I had managed to be sick while working with the Slicers and hit myself in the knee with a hammer while working with the Builders. Let's just say it was not a good start.

For my fourth day, I was off to work with the Track-hoes. Newt said he'd come work with me, since he had a day off from running, apparently, and I was happy about it. He was probably the boy I was the closest to, along with Minho, who decided to sit with me at dinner the day after my arrival, and every other day after that. I was pretty glad those two were nice to me, considering that most of the boys seemed uneasy around me.

I was up early that day. I hadn't actually had a lot of sleep, since my mind was running wild every time I would close my eyes. I couldn't see a lot, only blurry silhouettes running around, and faint screams. But it gave me chills, and I couldn't sleep. So I was walking around aimlessly, when I heard noise in the kitchens. I walked over there, finding Frypan preparing breakfast.

"Need a hand?" I asked, and he jumped. He turned around, holding up a pan in front of him. When he realised it was me, he lowered the pan.

"Never do that again, Shuckface," he said, and I laughed, walking in.

"I can't wait to find my name just so that you guys can stop giving me nicknames," I sighed.

"I won't stop calling you Shuckface even when I'll know your name, Shuckface," he joked, and I rolled my eyes.

"So what do you say? You need help or not?" I asked, and he shrugged.

"Normally, I shouldn't let you, but whatever," he agreed, and handed me his pan. I was successfully making eggs, until Frypan dropped something behind me cussing in the process. I turned around quickly, unwillingly putting my hand on the side of the pan. I let out a yelp, Frypan rushing to me.

"Did you ruin the eggs?" he asked, and I scoffed.

"No. I ruined my hand, however," I complained, holding it up. It was already swelling, a bright red line going all the way across my palm. Frypan took out a pot of ice from what looked like a freezer and handed it to me. I shoved my hand in it, as Frypan laughed at my uselessness.

"I'm not useless. I just haven't finished my training yet," I answered, and he nodded, still laughing.

"Morning Fry," Minho said, appearing in front of us. He looked at me, then at my hand, and smirked, before adding, "Morning, Failure." I took an ice cube from my pot and threw it at him, but he dodged it just in time.

"No throwing in my kitchen!" Frypan shouted, before literally kicking me out of his kitchen.

I joined Minho as he was eating. He ate mainly in silence, until he noticed I was nodding off.

"Hey, you okay?" He asked, and I nodded.

"Yeah. I'm just... just tired."

"Good thing you ain't a Runner, Failure." He answered, and I punched his arm.

"Shut up Minho." I laughed. We chatted a little, and once again he managed to avoid all of my questions about the Maze. I didn't really mind though, I had other things to worry about. Like how I was supposed to spend the day with the Track-Hoes with a burnt hand.

I went to see the med-jacks after Minho had left, but the only thing Clint could do was apply an ointment and bandage all around my hand. He said I had done the right thing with the ice, and that now all we needed to do was wait. He also suggested to tell Alby that I needed a day off, but I wasn't about to sit around all day while my friend was in here instead of out in the Maze. Maybe he could answer some of my questions.

I went back to the kitchens to give Frypan his pot back and to have breakfast. I sat with Newt, who immediately noticed my hand and the bags under my eyes.

"You alright, Beanie?"

"I'm fine. And for the hundredth time : Stop. Calling me. Beanie," I sighed, poking at my food without a lot of energy.

"You should be happy, I'm not calling you Greenie. Besides, you're going to spend the day with me."

"And that should make me happy?" I asked, and he scoffed, slightly pushing me. I laughed, eating a bit of breakfast, although I wasn't very hungry. I saw the concerned look Newt gave me, but I ignored it, not really feeling like having to explain my weird dreams.

We finished eating and I was off to work. I was introduced to Zart, the keeper of the Track-Hoes, who explained to me the work I had to do for the day. He then left to take care of something else, leaving me with Newt to pick up the vegetables.

The day went on slowly, until the afternoon. Newt and I were sitting under a solitary tree, not far from the garden where we were working. We had a small break, and we were both eating apples in silence. Newt sighed and faced me.

"You're way too silent. What's going on?" he asked, and I stared at him a second, before shaking my head.

"I'm fine, I just... I didn't sleep a lot last night. That's all." I explained, unconsciously rubbing the burn on my hand. It had been hurting while I was working, and I could feel the dirt getting through the bandage, but I sucked it up and worked, knowing that complaining would not get me out of work.

"Does it hurt?" Newt asked, suddenly very protective, moving slightly towards me. I did not have time to answer, however, because Minho came screaming into the Glade.

"He's been stung!" he yelled out of breath, carrying a boy on his back. Once he was into the Glade, he dropped to his knees, letting go of the boy. Gladers were running towards him and the boy and Newt stood up, running towards Minho. It brought me back to myself, and I got up too, running after Newt.

I let Newt push his way through as I stood behind, letting all the boys try to catch a glimpse of the boy who had been stung.

"I think it's Ben!"

"It's not Ben, he didn't run today."

"Is it Jack?"

"Yeah I think it's Jack."

I backed up a little, confused by my feelings. Although I knew that being stung would change him forever, and potentially kill him, I did not feel sorry. I didn't even know who Jack was, I didn't think I had met him before. I watched as the Med-Jacks took the boy and brought him to the Homestead, the other Gladers following him, leaving Minho to himself. I walked over to him when things calmed down.

"Are you alright?" I asked, and he looked up.

"Hey, Failure. Yeah, I'm fine," he sighed, getting up. I scoffed.

"Just so you know, I'm doing very good with the Track-Hoes," I said, and he laughed. "So what happened? You ran straight into a Griever?" I asked, and he sighed, looking straight into my eyes.

"Alright, might as well have someone to help me tell the whole Glade. I heard him scream, so I went to find him - you know, Keeper duty. The Griever was going away, and the Shank was lying on the ground. He got stung pretty badly. More than once." He explained, and I frowned.

"But, I thought Grievers only came out at night?" I asked, and he stared at me.

"Sometimes I forget how clueless Greenies are," he said, and I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms on my chest.

"I think you've already said that," I muttered and he shrugged.

"Sorry Greenie. No, they don't only come out at night. We can cross their path during the day, although it's rare, it does happen. They don't usually sting that many times, though, " he explained, and I nodded, thanking him for the information. Just then, Alby came out of the Homestead, shouting for Minho. We shared a look, and he walked towards the boy.

"What the shuck happened? He's been stung four times! How many Grievers were there?" I heard Alby ask him, before he noticed me. "Greenie, go find Newt," he told me, before grabbing Minho by the shoulders and walking towards the small building I had only seen the Runners enter. I sighed, walking towards the Homestead, hoping that Newt would be there and more willing to talk than Alby.