Before Thomas {A Maze Runner Fanfiction}

S1-Ep17: Grievers in the Glade

There were Grievers inside the Glade. Nick felt and heard them before he saw them - their metallic limbs stomping heavily on the ground and their piercing screeches bouncing off the walls. He jumped up with the others, their drinks forgotten. Minho and Newt shared horrified looks with each other, and Alby's face was more stern than Nick had ever seen it. It was his time to step up and be the leader everyone expected him to be.

"Everybody needs to be armed, NOW!" Nick ran for the small wooded hovel where they kept all of their weapons, both handmade and those sent up with the Box. He grabbed a machete and turned towards Minho.

"I need the Runners up front and prepared to defend. A lot of these other shanks don't know what they're in for, especially the newer Greenies." As he spoke, Minho nodded his head in understanding. He snapped his fingers at the rest of the Runners and began, well, running. Before they followed their leader, Dalton and P.F. shook hands and Nick was worried about how close some of these kids were. It was fine when their world was at least semi-stable, but when things like this happened...friends were torn apart. That's why he never let himself get close to anyone here. He knew if he gave himself that kind of luxury it would be his downfall later on.

"HANK!" Nick shouted at the bigger boy. Hank stood to attention and Nick clapped him on the shoulder and looked him square in the eye.

"Choose who to take and find a way to get them things back to the Maze, or distracted long enough for one of us to kill 'em," he said. If there even was a way to kill the damn things. Hank took a spear and two back-up knives and turned around.

"GALLY, CHRIS, BEN, WITH ME!" he shouted.

One-by-one, the Gladers started breaking off into their own little groups, some under Nick's direction, some under the direction of their own. Nick made sure no one went alone and saw to it that Clint, Frypan, and Jeff were well-supervised. When he was left alone he ran to the slammer, trying to blot out the cries of terror and the mechanical humming sounds around him.

"It's about time!" Dave burst out of the Slammer and Nick handed him a meat cleaver.

"Don't even think about using this on one of us," he warned. Dave frowned and took the weapon.

"Come on!" Nick propelled Dave through the surrounding bushes and they went to find the Grievers. They weren't hard to find; they were still far enough away from the Homestead that Nick felt relieved. By some lucky chance they were sticking closer to the wall. There were only two of them, but they had already done some damage. Much of the sod beneath their feet had been ripped up and there were heavy scratches on the walls. The Runners seemed to be the experts on how to dodge their attacks, but even they were having trouble taking on two at once.

Dave let out a cry and ran headfirst into the battlefield. Nick followed suit and tackled Will to the ground just before one of the Griever's legs bore into his chest. He got up and the two of them rolled away when the Griever let out a scream and tried again, thrusting its face into the dirt where they had been lying.

Nick took a swing at one of its legs and managed to slice at it, but blast it all if they weren't all made of harder stuff than human skin. Whoever had made these things had done a good job with the armor. The slick bastards. Nick cursed under his breath and circled around, trying to find a weak point.

Not too far away, the Runners found themselves facing one of the Grievers alone. Dalton had managed to severely wound the beast's head, but it wasn't giving up. P.F. dodged an attack and the Griever lashed out with its mouth open and snapped at the Runner. With an inhuman yowl, Minho suddenly leapt up onto the Griever's back legs. The Griever reared back and twisted its body in an attempt to dislodge him, but Minho kept his grip. He worked his way up until he straddled its back. Newt took the creature's distraction to land some blows in its side, relieved when some of his blows hit their target. The Griever roared in frustration and slammed itself against the wall. Minho slid dangerously to the side and the Griever took another swat at him with its legs, but Minho managed to stay on its back.