Disclaimer:
I do not own The Maze Runner or Ki Hong Lee, unfortunately.
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The rest of the battle was a blur that seemed to pass forever. All around me, Gladers fought with equal amounts of ferocity and determination, hacking and stabbing away at the Grievers surrounding us. It was an extremely draining job. I was sure that if it hadn't been for the adrenaline rush still coursing through my veins, I would have collapsed long ago.
Somehow I found myself beside Minho. He held a long blade in his hand that was covered in gunk and slime. His gaze caught mine for a second we nodded in sync, a moment of understanding passing between us. It was as good of an apology I was going to get in a time like that.
Minho looked terrible, in all honesty. His jet black hair was smooshed down on top of his head from how much he was moving. Cuts and slices covered most of his skin, along with smudges of dirt and machine oil. His chest heaved with panting breaths and he bounced on the balls of his feet.
I wasn't sure I was much better. My ponytail was in knots and a disarray of loose strands stuck to my face, which was shining with sweat. I felt as if all the moisture had been sucked out of my throat and mouth- I needed water and quickly. My shirt was shredded in the back like diagonal stripes. The skin on my legs that had been torn open burned like it was on fire, and many more cuts littered the rest of my body. My heart never ceased to thud in my ribcage.
Two Grievers surged toward us with screeches of machinery, mouths open wide as their many metal arms flailed about. Minho and I instinctively moved so we were back-to-back. We both had our weapons held out protectively in front of us, waiting patiently for the monsters to make the first moves.
The one in front of Minho whirled forward with a squealing, burping cry from deep in its throat. Minho shouted, "Duck!" and I did; he slashed his sword horizontally in front of him and sliced the monster's bubbly skin wide open. It screamed and stood on its hind legs like a horse, front arms moving spastically.
Minho's eyes went wide and he put his free hand on my back, pushing me along with him to the right. "Go, go!"
I did as I was told and sprinted to the side just as the Griever landed on the spot we had previously been standing. Its legs hit the concrete with a loud clank.
"Wait, don't move," I ordered breathlessly, holding an arm in front of Minho's chest when he started forward. "Watch."
The Griever that had been in front of me had also started to run forward just after Minho stabbed its ally. The momentum was too great for it to stop, and its legs flailed around in a useless attempt to grip onto the ground. It slammed into the other Griever with a scream, sending them both rolling backwards on top of one another.
Minho's jaw slightly dropped. "Well, that works, too."
The two Grievers were immobile, a mess of tangled appendages and oozing flesh. Blood from both of them pooled out onto the concrete. A leg twitched, but it was impossible to see which one it belonged to. Some of the random assortments of instruments had gotten caught in the others' bodies. It was almost safe to say that they had killed each other, or would soon enough.
I turned to the chaos around me. Blood was everywhere- on the walls, on the ground, on clothes, and on people and Grievers alike. Fierce cries and shouts and screams echoed in the air. Some kid was trying to lasso a Griever with a vine. There was an entire arm laying on the ground amid a plethora of flesh and crimson liquid. Another boy was off vomiting to the side.
"Dylan!"
I almost didn't recognize the voice. My eyebrows pinched together, but when I turned around, I felt my guts twist. Max, the boy whom Newt had sucker-punched, was being grabbed by the legs from a Griever. He was hanging on only by his sword that he had somehow managed to delve into a crack in the concrete. His hazel eyes were filled with tears and pleaded for me to help him. The muscles on his arms strained the longer he had to hold on.
Without a second more of hesitation, I rushed forward to help him. It didn't matter that he had harassed me- or at that moment, it didn't. A Glader was a Glader. He was an important member of our group, and I was going to rescue him.
"I got you," I assured him, tucking my spear into the loop of my jeans and reaching out a hand to help him. My fingers just brushed his when the Griever gave one last hefty pull and launched him backwards. My hand covered my mouth to stifle a gasp as Max landed in the Griever's outstretched arms and was gobbled whole.
I had seen too much death that day. Too many times I had watched a boy get swallowed by one of those sick monsters. I didn't want it to happen again, so I was going to fight ten times harder and buy my brother more time.
But then, suddenly, all the Grievers froze. Not a single arm moved. Their mouths stayed open, appendages still outstretched as if to fight. Confused Gladers looked around, eyes sweeping over the haunting mess around us.
Harvey heaved a sigh of relief, shoulder-length black hair falling into his eyes as he panted heavily. "They did it."
My chest rose and fell quickly as I counted how many of us were left. Nineteen Gladers stood outside, including me, meaning that there were twenty-two counting Thomas, Teresa, and Chuck. Just above half of us were gone.
Half.
"Who's going to check it out down there?" Frypan asked, bending over with his hands on his knees as he attempted to catch his breath. "Cuz I sure as shuck ain't goin' first."
"Minho," Newt ordered, jerking his head toward the Cliff. "You go."
My heart filled with relief and felt a tiny bit lighter at the realization that Newt was alive. He had a massive cut on his cheek that started at his eye and ended at the bottom of his lip, his hair was a complete mess, and his shirt was torn open from multiple sides. But he was breathing. His heart was beating.
Minho sighed and started jogging toward the Cliff after throwing his sword to the ground. He swiftly jumped off the edge and tucked his arms stiffly to his sides, disappearing within the blink of an eye into nothing.
"Everyone come over here," Newt called out, hoarse voice echoing through the Maze walls. One by one, everyone gathered their bearings and walked toward the Cliff, where Newt was starting to line people up. I saw Theo, Winston, Jackson, and Jeff. Others I had yet to account for disappeared down the Hole. I stood in the middle of the line, shifting my weight anxiously as the line slowly decreased.
Before I knew it, I was at the front. I didn't give myself much time to think about it. With one huge breath, I copied Minho's actions in jumping forward with my body at an angle and trapping my limbs close to me. I slipped into some sort of freezing cold tunnel that was slippery enough to feel like water. My feet hit the ground and the tunnel ended abruptly, causing me to topple backward.
I landed in the arms of Theo, who smiled down at me. There was a sadness in his eyes that contradicted the expression of joy on his face- I knew he was thinking of Garret. In an attempt to console him, I turned and squeezed him tightly in a brief hug. He chuckled and returned the gesture.
"Go along, pepinillo," he said, releasing me and gently moving me to the side. "I've got someone else to catch."
I willingly gave him space and surveyed my surroundings. We were standing in a stone cylinder that would've been pitch black if it hadn't been for the flashlight some Gladers had clicked on. A computer was stationed a few feet down with a keyboard set into the wall; Jeff stared at it in awe.
A new pair of arms spun me around and pulled me into an embrace. I recognized Thomas' figure almost immediately- he always locked his hands around the person's back as he hugged, like he never wanted to let go. I hugged him back just as tightly as he did. My face was pressed into his chest and his was buried in my neck. He smelled awful, but I tried not to dwell on that fact.
The embrace lasted for a long while. By the time we both pulled back, the remaining Gladers had already come down.
"The rest?" Thomas asked hesitantly.
"There...aren't any others," I managed to inform him, finding it incredibly difficult to utter the words. They wanted to stick inside my throat, to never be spoken because maybe if I didn't say them out loud, they wouldn't be true. But they were.
Teresa sucked in a sharp breath and covered her mouth. Chuck's eyes shined.
"Half of us," Newt added weakly, staring at the ground. "Dead."
There was a long moment in which no one spoke a word. Images of the horrific deaths flashed in my mind. I saw Garret's sacrifice for his best friend, Clint being severed, and my failed attempt at saving Max. My eyelids squeezed shut. A single tear managed to escape and I wiped it away, blinking rapidly.
"You know what?" Minho asked and stood a little taller. "Half might've died, but half of us shucking lived. And nobody got stung- just like Thomas thought. We've gotta get out of here."
I nodded, still struggling to find words that wanted to be spoken. "Minho's right— we shouldn't" — a shaking breath interrupted my sentence, almost like a sob wanted to escape — "we shouldn't dwell on this right now. Let's find our way out."
"Let's get out of here," Newt agreed. "Right now."
"Where do we go?" Minho asked. I pressed my lips into a line and pointed to the only direction we could move- forward.
Thomas pointed as well. "I heard the door open down that way."
"Well, let's go," Minho encouraged, turning and starting down the dark tunnel without another word.
Newt nodded and ushered the rest of the Gladers past him until Thomas, Teresa, and I remained with him. We all shared a glance.
"I'll go last," Thomas offered.
I spun on my heel and walked toward the seemingly endless corridor of black. Newt fell into step beside me, letting our hands brush against one another. "You alright?" he questioned.
I snorted dryly. "No. You?"
Newt shook his head. "No."
The darkness increased the farther we went until I could barely see my hand in front of my face. I was reminded briefly of how dark it had been when I woke up in the Box, and almost swore I could hear the squeaking of pulleys from above-
Snap out of it! My brain was conjuring up those thoughts just to scare me. I was leaving the Maze forever. I would never wake up in the Box again.
A shriek from ahead made me jump and instinctively grab Newt's hand. I couldn't see him, but he squeezed back to let me know he was there. Murmurs descended down the line of people until they reached us.
"Ends in a slide," Winston informed in an almost amused tone, "so don't lose your pants if you start to fall."
I sighed in relief. The pounding of my heart decreased with the news as Newt passed it along to the other behind us.
"Wonder when it- AH!" I screamed as my feet slipped out from under me. I pulled Newt down with me, our fingers tangled together as we coasted down the steep decline. A laugh bubbled up from him and warmed my heart. It was a joyous sound to hear.
I tried to ignore the burning scent of machinery and oil that invaded my nostrils, and instead focused on how my stomach dropped as I shouted. It was a strange feeling- excitement for the ride, yet fear because I couldn't see a thing.
From behind, I heard Teresa and Thomas shriek, followed by an, "Ow!" from Chuck. I laughed again and released Newt's hand, raising my arms above my head.
The smell shifted to mildew and rot. I attempted to breathe through my mouth as to not let it bother me as much. However, my stomach still churned with distaste and I felt myself gag.
"I think I'm gonna puke," Thomas moaned shakily.
"Please don't," Teresa answered with a sigh. I could picture the grimace on her face.
The slide twisted into a rough spiral that was just enough to slow us down. I could sense someone arriving beside me.
"Hey, there," Newt greeted. He had fallen behind at some point, but I had slowed down enough for him to catch up. It was beyond weird to hear him loud and clear, yet not be able to see him at all.
"Hey," I replied blankly.
Suddenly, a booming thud sounded from Newt's direction and ice spread into my veins, making my heart skip a beat. Newt groaned in pain.
"What happened?" I asked, concern wrinkling my brow.
"I just slammed into the wall," Newt muttered in reply, sounding a bit farther away now. It took all my willpower not to laugh at him.
The tunnel stretched on and on endlessly. I was beginning to grow bored of the situation, tucking my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them so I was a tiny ball. We circled down, down, down. It was a miracle I hadn't gotten sick yet.
Without warning, I flew out of the tunnel and landed hard on the ground. My arms sprung out from their locked position and just managed to catch my fall. Seconds later, Newt landed on top of me.
"Sorry," he mumbled, immediately pushing himself up and holding out a hand to help me. I accepted it and allowed him to pull me so I was standing up. My legs felt like jelly.
What I saw was almost enough to have them give out. I recognized the room immediately- the harsh invasion of white, machinery everywhere, and wires covering the walls. We were inside W.I.C.K.E.D. More precisely, the room where the Box was located, and where I had said goodbye to Newt. Now, the place where the Box had been was covered by a large slate of bolted steel.
"Look!" someone shouted as if we all weren't already. I jerked my head and felt fear prickle my skin, sending goosebumps erupting all over me.
A row of about twenty windows was displayed directly in front of us. Behind them stood a number of people, all of different skin tones and sizes, staring at us with squinted eyes. They all looked washed-out like they hadn't smiled or experienced happiness in years.
I was sure of it then. W.I.C.K.E.D surely lived up to their name.
gif is the cast being adorable
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hey guys! this chapter is a little lighter than the last, and hopefully made you smile a bit. it was just too sad so i decided to brighten it up with a little humor
i can't believe this book is nearing its end! it's been in progress for what seems like forever. get excited for book 2!!!
questions:
-does anyone even remember harvey? (he's the one with the jerk friend named vince who made fun of thomas)
-do you think that slide would be fun?
-are you happy that minho and dylan are officially friends again?
-kristyn