Count On Me ➵ Newt [1]

TWENTY-ONE | thomas' punishment

Frypan went out the door and came back with Thomas, whose face was scrunched up in obvious confusion and worry as he glanced around the room at us. He took his place in the chair I was in a few seconds earlier, facing us all.

"As you all know, a lotta klunk has been happenin' and quite a bit seems centered around our Greenbean, Tommy, seated before us," Newt drawled. "Almost every lovin' kid in the Glade has come up to me in the last day or two either boohooing about Thomas or beggin' to take his bloody hand in marriage. We need to decide what we're gonna do with him."

Gally leaned forward, but Newt cut him off before he could say anything.

"You'll have your chance, Gally. One at a time. And Tommy, you're not allowed to say a buggin' thing until we ask you to. Good that?" He waited for a nod of consent from Thomas - who gave it reluctantly - then pointed to Zart. "Zart the Fart, you start."

There were a few snickers as Zart, shifted in his seat.

"Well," Zart began, his eyes darting around. "I don't know. He broke one of our most important rules. We can't just let people think that's okay." He paused and looked down at his hands, rubbing them together. "But then again, he's... changed things. Now we know we can survive out there, and that we can beat the Grievers."

"Is that it?" Newt said. "Any official recommendations?"

Zart shook his head.

"Okay. You're next, Frypan."

The cook smiled through his beard and sat up straighter. "Shank's got more guts than I've fried up from every pig and cow in the last year. How stupid is this - he saves Alby's life, kills a couple of Grievers, and we're sitting here yappin' about what to do with him. As Chuck would say, this is a pile of klunk."

"So what're ya recommendin'?" Newt asked.

Frypan folded his arms. "Put him on the freaking Council and have him train us on everything he did out there."

Voices erupted from every direction, and it took Newt half a minute to calm everyone down.

"All right, everyone keep their bloody mouths shut, I mean it," Newt said. "You know the rules - no idea's unacceptable - and you'll all have your say when we vote on it."

He pointed to Winston.

"I think he should be punished," Winston said. "No offense, Greenie, but Newt, you're the one always harping about order. If we don't punish him, we'll set a bad example. He broke our Number One Rule."

"Okay, so you're recommendin' punishment. What kind?"

"I think he should be put in the Slammer for a week with only bread and water - and we need to make sure everyone knows about it so they don't get any ideas."

Gally clapped, earning a scowl from Newt. Two more Keepers spoke, one for Frypan's idea, one for Winston's. Then it was Newt's turn.

"I agree with the lot of ya. He should be punished, but then we need to figure out a way to use him. I'm reservin' my recommendation until I hear everyone out. Next."

Down the line we went. Some thought Thomas should be praised, some thought he should be punished. Or both.

And then it was Gally's turn. "I think I've made my opinions pretty clear already. This slinthead comes up in the Box, acting all confused and scared. A few days later, he's running around the Maze with Grievers, acting like he owns the place. I think it was all an act. How could he have done what he did out there after just a few days? I ain't buyin' it."

"What're you tryin' to say, Gally?" Newt asked irritably. "How 'bout having a bloody point?"

"I think he's a spy from the people who put us here. We can't trust this shank. Day after he shows up, a psycho girl comes, spoutin' off that things are gonna change, clutching that freaky note. We find a dead Griever. Thomas conveniently finds himself in the Maze for the night, then tries to convince everyone he's a hero. Well, no one except for Minho and Rosalind actually saw him do anything heroic. How do we know if the Greenie is being truthful?"