CH. TWO
┗━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━┛
Sleeping isn't a success. She didn't plan to do it in Newt's squeaky bed anyways, but even if she would try, she couldn't. There's too many thoughts and theories her mind is making up, keeping her awake.
Unsafe or not, she will go explore at night when everyone else is, hopefully, asleep. Perhaps check those walls out to see if she can escape before anything bad happens.
So there she goes, moving through the grass as quietly as possible. It's not hard, since there's loud snoring coming out of a weird mess of wood in the distance, some kind of building that looks like it got built by three-year-olds.
The girl walks over to the walls. Standing there, under them, makes her realize they're really enormous. Even if she'd multiply in ten people, stack them on top of each other, and try to reach the top, she'd only make it to half of the wall.
She checks everything on the walls she can reach. From feeling if there's a loose stone to hoping something will eventually open and let her out of this hell. But nope. There's nothing.
By the time she finishes looking, the sky is less dark and she knows she'll have to worry if she wants to get away from these stinking boys.
Her eyes fall on the trees in the distance. Woods. Not giant woods, but big enough to hide in and tall trees to climb in.
It sounds dumb. Weak. Weird. But anything to get away from whatever amount of boys are here.
She can't trust them. Not even Newt, who seems kind. You never know.
Little wet drops rest on leaves and the smell of a fresh morning is honestly awesome, yet it doesn't overtop her fright, unsureness, curiosity, and a million other things.
Choosing what to do is hard, though. She can't hide here forever with no food and nothing to entertain herself with. Staying on her own doesn't sound hard, she doesn't need a lot of socializing, but the rest will be an issue.
Steal at night? No. Unless the boys are perverts, she isn't going to steal. And what if she finds out they're actually kind? Would she live with them, then?
She'd like an explanation, at least. That, and then flee? Overhear some boys?
The options are endless. Eventually, she chooses to just spend the day in a tree... ridiculous.
But there's a big one with enough branches to take a hold on right in front of her. She can't pass the opportunity. It's too good, and the trunk is so big that she'll be quite comfortable up there.
Climbing up, she grunts at the pain in her wrist. It's blue and a bit swollen by now. Every movements hurts.
But she ignores it and asks herself the next question. What do I look like? Long hair for sure. It's in a low ponytail. Dark blue jeans that sit a bit wide around her legs, but not in a way that makes it seem like that's how it's supposed to be. Nope, they're just too big.
A light pink top with sleeves as thin as spaghetti, but, to her satisfaction, a white jacket covers half of her torso. Sadly, dirt has already ruined it. She must look like crap.
Then it's just sitting still, and she realizes it's almost as bad as in that elevator. Yay!
It takes three, maybe more, hours for voices to get closer. She can't feel her butt by now, let alone resist the urge to just walk up to Newt and command an explanation.
...which he was already planning to give.
Whatever, can't always obey.
"You know you can't believe whatever Minho says unless it's about The Maze," a male voice.
Surprising!
She doesn't recognize it, though. But... a maze? Interesting enough to keep listening,
"Yeah, yeah, Winston," another voice she can't recognize.
"What exactly did he say again?"
"That he saw a shadow in the woods this morning. He called it JACKIT."
A sigh. "And what's that supposed to mean?"
"Jeff And Clint Kissing In Trees."
"Oh my, God." An even louder sigh, followed by something smacking against a tree. Likely a stone the boy below her, Winston, kicked. "And you immediately assume it's the girl?"
"Perhaps," he says. "Pretty sure their brains work differently than ours. Just going into the woods, eh."
"Why can I imagine Zart jumping from tree to tree, though?"
"Maybe he would. Doesn't matter. We're here to help Alby with his search party. Guess that's the party we get instead of The Bonfire."
"You would've never sent us to do this back when you were first in command," Winston says, a tad annoyed. "I've got pigs to get ready."
For what..?
"You and disgusting job can–"
"I provide y'all of food!"
Alright. The pigs are ready to lie on their plates, then.
"What I'm saying," Winston continues, "is that I sometimes miss you as a leader, Nick. Alby's nice and all, but he takes the lead way differently."
So Nick is his name. And he was the previous leader. More information for her to remember.
"It just got too much. After George... and then Camil came up The Box with that paralyzation... and Newt was no longer able to run... Gally stung. Now a shuckin' girl."
At least she now for sure knows they didn't expect her to arrive here either.
Still doesn't mean she's safe.
"And then you added the slang because Minho was driving everyone crazy once he discovered there were no adults to stop him." A pause. "What? Gotta add some positivity in it, man!"
"Just continue lookin'. Alby ain't got mercy if we arrive with empty hands."
"He said not to touch her."
"You know what I mean, smart-ass." Nick exhales, murmuring something under his breath. "Just sayin' we gotta hurry a bit. If she'd just appear, I can at least drown myself in Gally's moonshine tonight."
Well that sounds... suspicious. Her eyebrows raise automatically.
"And we'll miss lunch. I did my best to give Fry bacon. You should've seen what it took to get those pigs–"
Nick clears his throat. "No, thank you. Any ideas what the girl would do as a job, though? Would be impressive if she isn't disgusted by you Slicers, since half of The Glade already is. I wouldn't blame her if she is just like us."
Slicers. The Glade. Jobs. So they keep order. The Glade... this place? Outside the walls... that maze? It makes enough sense.
Awesome, she's locked up in a maze, surrounded by boys and a stinky farm.
"I dunno. It's gonna be a whole experience keeping everyone in order and making sure she gets treated equally."
"Get food thrown at her head every meal? Equal enough."
"Ya understand what I mean. Make sure the perverts, who are hopefully not here, stay away, get her doing as much as the others, and everything will be back to normal. No more hectic klunk."
Hm. Alright. Either they know she's overhearing them and do this on purpose, or some of the boys are really just respectful and want the best for her.
Should she come down? Nah. Not yet.
❀
It's been about an hour since Winston and Nick left, and her body is really starting to hurt from the hard surface under her. So she decides to shift. Stretch a bit, maybe.
She stands up, not afraid to fall because of the trunk's thickness. Does some movements as she holds onto a branch, just to make sure.
Until there's a weird feeling inside her stomach and a part of her head. It's not pain. Neither is it some kind of pressure or anxiety... it's anger.
But it's not hers.
Woah, psycho!
It's bowling up her stomach, while she's not angry at all. Well, maybe at whoever sent her here, but she wasn't thinking about that. Could the ones who sent her up here control her emotions?
No, because the anger doesn't morph with her feelings. It just stays inside her body as some kind of warning. Like she's... keeping it for someone else?
Then branches break from a distance and she flinches, causing the thin branch she was holding to break and drop to the ground. Panicked, she lowers herself, hissing at the pain in her wrist, and hides the best she can.
"OW!"
Oh, well that definitely makes it better: the branch landed on top of whoever was approaching.
"Sorry!" She manages, then slams a hand to her mouth. Freaking hell.
There's a silence below her. Just like that, the anger evolves. Continues streaming through her body, yet it still doesn't feel like it belongs to her.
"There she is." A sigh that he definitely wanted her to hear. "Come down."
She peeks below her, at a boy who she can see is tall even though she's higher than him at the moment. Light brown, very short hair. Blue eyes. Not too bright, just grayish blue. Vague freckles dotted all over his skin. Brown shirt. Either seventeen or eighteen years old.
"No," she says. Not if he's going to command her to do it with a rude tone like that.
The strange anger multiplies, and he crosses his arms. "Get. Down. You've been holding our work up the whole shucking day and sure that Nick's a sweetie with patience, but I'm telling you to come down. You're not liked by many, at the moment."
Wasn't that part of the goal? To keep people away from her?
"I think I'll decide for myself when to come down," she replies. Partly because the pain in her wrist has gotten worse, partly because she won't enjoy anyone's company just yet. "You're free to go back and do your job, whatever that is."
His face remains cold, yet his eyes narrow. "Fine. Guess I'll tell everyone else I've found you."
"No!" The yelp leaves her mouth before she can stop herself.
But come on, she doesn't need a whole crowd below this tree, waiting for her to come down or maybe even climbing up to reach her.
"Then get out of there," he orders, obviously annoyed. "My drinks' dates might expire if we don't have The Bonfire with you tonight, and that'll be a waste."
"Because your drinks are more important than the irregular pattern of that elevator, Gally?"
He pauses now. Gives her a look as he tilts his head, then clears his throat. "You a psychic?"
"Maybe." Slowly, she starts making her way down. She grits her teeth to get over both the consuming pain and anger she can't recognize.
Once she's arrived, she realizes he indeed is tall. Very tall.
Or she's just very short.
(A/n: I just keep the height of the faceclaims, if it matters)
He has to look down at her, the fourteen inches between their heads a tension she can't yet place. "Come on," he snaps.
Under her breath, "Moody for what?"
He stops walking immediately. Turns around. "Moody for the 'irregular pattern of that elevator'. You're not supposed to be here and it uneases me."
"Oh, thank you," she mutters, groaning. "Because I did really decide to go here by myself. My apologies."
The boy, who's name is Gally because he speaks about drinks and Nick spoke about 'Gally's moonshine', continues walking without a word.
So does she, unsure what to think of this boy yet. Like, some directness is good. But maybe he's a tad too direct.
He's walking fast, with those legs she can't even keep up with. A little jog here, fast steps, then another jog there.
But she can't be annoying and go complain about his damn pace, so continues with the jogs.
"In here." He opens the door to the weird building she saw earlier, which looks even more unstable in daylight. "Alby's waiting."
She stares at the thing. "It looks like it'll break down the second I step a foot in it. Besides, who says you're telling the truth—"
But he has grabbed her wrist before she can stop him. Unfortunately, it's the hurting one. She pulls away with such force that he can't keep up with it, and presses her wrist to her torso, as if that's going to help.
"You're hurt," he realizes. There's barely any sorrow in his voice. Just a casual statement.
"No shit," she snaps. "Also, never randomly touch me again."
He doesn't apologize. "Get inside. As I said, Alby's waiting."
"I can't get my wrist checked out?"
"Not as long as you don't ask."
"Fine." She exhaled. "Can I get my wrist checked?"
"No."
Motherf—
"Not before we've spoken to Alby." He doesn't touch her this time, but makes a movement toward the door with his head. "Hurry. We ain't got all day, Greenie."
A careful step inside the building. "What's a Greenie? And what's this building?"
"Not my job to answer your questions. Not that I feel like it, anyways." Gally opens a door, revealing both of them to Alby and Newt, who stop stalking straight away.
There's a long, awkward silence. Well, Newt looks surprised and confused at once, and Alby seems a bit irritated, but then he nods. "Thank you, Gally."
She stays glued to the ground, not daring to take a step forward, or one backward.
"Where were you? We thought you were bloody killed or something! Ran into The—"
"Newt," Alby warns. He's calmer than the blonde. "But yes, where were you?"
"The woods," she says.
"Why?"
"Because y'all are scare me."
Newt's eyebrows fly up. "Us? These stinking lil' rats with deformed faces scare ya?"
"You're all boys," she adds. A shiver runs down her spine. She wishes she could be tougher in this situation, but as long as she doesn't know more, she can't be.
"Yes," Alby says. He cocks his head to the side. "But trust me, no one will hurt you."
"I don't trust you," she says. "But sure, no one will hurt me, then."
"Well, if you don't trust us, we can't really help you."
Newt shoots Alby a look. Starts whisper-yelling: "What do you mean? Trustworthy or not, she's a girl all alone between those boys and it's very understandable that she feels unsafe and—"
"I can hear you," she reminds him. "Just so you know."
Alby and Newt are silent for a few seconds. Then Newt steps closer, and she's still rooted to the freaking floor below her. "Explain," she orders. "Everything."
❀
So yes, they call this place The Glade. A maze surrounds them. Newt didn't share too much about it. Then there's multiple buildings.
The Homestead that has some kind of roof attached to it, where most boys sleep in a hammock. There's something up the Homestead Newt wouldn't share, but she couldn't care less.
Next to The Homestead, there's the Med-Hut. It's where The Med-Jacks work, basically the doctors. Next to that, The Bloodhouse. The Slicers slaughter animals there. Like Winston.
The kitchen is a hut that's multiple hundreds feet away from The Homestead. The Cooks make every meal. At the same three times every day, they ring a bell for the meals and everyone eats on either the picnic tables or somewhere else in The Glade.
There's gardens, where the Track-Hoes work. Weird ass names, but alright. They provide the kitchen of food, like The Slicers, except they give vegetables, fruits, and other herbs.
Then all the way in the corner, the Gathering Room, or Council Hall. Whatever. They just have a democracy system with all The 'Keepers' of the jobs whenever someone needs a punishment.
She has to admit, it's all done very well. They have three rules. One, never go beyond the walls unless you're a Runner, a job Newt barely shared anything about. Two, don't harm another Glader. And three, do your job.
Guess that was why Gally didn't like to be taken off work. He must like to obey to the rules.
Then there's a few huts spread around the field. Those are for The Keepers. It's slightly unfair that they get huts, but in some way it'll motivate boys to do their part so they might earn a hut of their own, too.
Then there's a few more jobs, but she can't remember them. Too much information at once.
The elevator? That's The Box. Once a week it delivers supplies, once a month, it delivers a Greenie too. This month, it's her.
They never had a girl before. Newt explained he'd been here for about a year and a half and it was just boys streaming in, one by one.
Maybe it switches? All boys for the first half, then all girls? And she's the first one?
Whatever. They hold a monthly bonfire to celebrate the new Greenie. Tonight, it'll be organized for her. She's not the most excited, but she'll see.
She just knows that so far, they seem to be speaking the truth. Newt's not a pervert, that's clear. Alby isn't either. Nick and Winston didn't sound too bad.
Gally's a tad annoying, but maybe if she just tries to get along with him, it'll be alright. She doesn't want to make any enemies here. Besides, what could even happen that made her enemies with anyone?
Now it's so hectic that she still has to sleep in Newt's hut, but he said she'd get her own hut soon.
"Hi," she tells the darker-skinned boy in front of her. A Med-Jack. "I hurt my wrist. Could you maybe fix it? Check it out, at least."
"Come inside." He steps out of her way. "Don't startle. We have a dramatic piece of klunk in here right now."
"I heard that!"
The boy turns around and starts yelling back to whoever is in the Med-Hut. "What were you even doing, man? Your shirt's full of slime!"
A mocking tone, "If you want me to take it off, just tell me, Jeffy Boy. Anything for you, sweetie. Sure no one will mind."
"Sure you'll love it," another voice says. "High ego. Also, I know damn well what you were doing."
"Share it, Clint."
"Collecting the slime to create hair g—"
"That is not true!" The deny comes so fast that everyone knows it definitely is true. "I wasn't even—"
Jeff turns back to the girl. "Sorry. Told ya, he's dramatic. Slipped and is telling everyone we might have to amputate is leg. Plot twist, it's a little scratch!"
"Is his name Minho?"
He perks up. "How'd you know?"
She gives him some kind of smile. "Just a guess."
"Well, yea. It is. Come in, now! Lemme see that wrist."