(WARNING: this chapter contains gory images and mentions of blood. Reading discretion is advised.)
After returning to the kitchen to search for a much needed drink of water, Newt and I sat at a table in the homestead, refreshing ourselves with water and carrot slices. And although I was on my third glass, Newt was still finishing his first. He had been explaining to me all the different things he would show me on the "tour" and the various labors available for a new Glader to choose from to fulfill their part as a member. Or as Alby had said as one of the rules "do your part." Newt also told me that if I couldn't relate to any of the jobs currently open, they had one called the sloppers. Those boys usually got to do the nasty, miscellaneous chores. I did NOT want to end up as a slopper. But being the first girl, I was worried that I might not be able to relate to any form of work that the boys have come up with for themselves.
I was about to ask Newt if we could finally get started on this tour of his that he's been ranting about for the past half hour now (not that listening to his wonderful accent wasn't a pleasure because it certainly was), when he grabs his glass jar and chugs down the rest of his water and snatches the last carrot before standing up and saying, "Well come on Y/N, let's get started." I roll my eyes because he acts as if I was the one holding us up and not him.
'What a shank,' I think, 'But a nice shank.' And I mean it sincerely.
Walking out of the homestead, he first leads me toward the large shack where the animals stay. It was their sort of farm. Nothing impressive but enough to be sufficient for keeping the livestock. As we head that way, I hear a sharp and short sounding "ding" and continue to hear that same noise as we grow closer to the area. Accompanied by the sound is a rather unpleasant smell of what I can tell is a mixture of manure and blood. It's like what I imagine death to smell.
We arrive at the fence before the shack, and Newt opens a make-shift gate and allows me to pass before following after me. In the corner of the fenced square are a herd of pigs, wallowing in the mud of their own feces without a care in the world. And I envy their care-free lives. Now that I am currently in the farm facility though, I decide against envying their stench of death. But I notice that they weren't contaminated with the source of the bloody scent, so from where is that part of the smell coming? Striding into the shack-like barn answers my question.
When we enter the barn, all I can smell is blood. It's repulsive. And it's everywhere. Blood is sprinkled on the floor, walls, tables, and I even spot some on the ceiling above. On the ceiling, however, I observe animal bodies hanging from ropes and cut into several pieces. The sight is sickening and terrifying. I know now that having a job here would be worse than a slopper.
I cover my mouth and nose in an attempt to avoid the horrid aroma. But it doesn't help, and I don't think I can be in here much longer with the sight of strangled animal parts. It's so bad, in fact, that I think I might vomit and cry.
Again I hear the dinging noise to my left and see a short, stocky boy covered in a blood stained apron. He holds a machete in the air before slamming it down on a raw piece of meat, slicing it in two, making said noise. Blood sprays in all directions.
Finally, looking up from his work, the boy smiles and says, "Welcome to the slicers house."
"I can't do this Newt," I whimper before fleeing the barn.
Newt rushes after me to open the gate, not bothering to stop me. I speed walk away from the farm and kneel in the grass, breathing heavily from shock. I know they need the livestock for food, but I also know that I myself can't handle performing whatever that job entails.
"Y/N, I'm sorry," Newt says, standing over me, "I should've warned you."
I nod my head in reply to signal that I forgive him.
I stand up to face him, saying, "No, I'm sorry. I said I wouldn't run off again and I did. I just couldn't handle the sight of it."
"Are you shucking me?" Newt answers, "I'm surprised you didn't run off because of the smell before we even got there. Most greenies usually refuse to go near that place."
I smile a little at the thought of being different than most greenies. But then I remember that I'm the only girl so that would be the explanation for it. More and more I learn the differences between boys and girls. And I learn more and more about myself as a person, my strengths and weaknesses.
"Thanks," I say, looking down with a grin.
"Come on," Newt chuckles, throwing his arm across my shoulders, "Let's go see what the builders are up to today."
Newt had told me about the builders earlier while we snacked in the homestead. He explained to me that Gally was the head of the builders and that they went about their day fixing and building the structures and equipment of the Glade. This group mostly consisted of large, burly guys who just followed Gally's instructions. I already knew this job wasn't for me, but the tour required for me to get familiar with the whole system of the Glade, not just one part of it.
Today the builders are in the forest chopping down a tree for wood. So naturally, that's where Newt and I go. As we stride through the woods, we begin to hear shouting and angry grumbling. Newt and I give each other a knowing look before we reach the group of bitter boys.
"What's everybody so huffy about?" Newt yells to quiet them down.
Gally steps forward, arms crossed.
"I have this all under control, Newt. Billy here just forgot how to do his job, that's all," he answers, gesturing to the smallest boy of the group, who is still bigger than most of the boys here.
"That's a bunch of clunk, Gally! I'd like to see you climb up that tree and not fall to your death," the boy interjects.
I notice Newt clench his jaw at the word "fall." But its too subtle and quick of a reaction for me to actually ask if he's okay.
"Why does Billy need to climb the tree if you just need to chop it down, Gally," Newt sighs, rubbing his face.
"Because these stupid shanks here started chopping on the wrong side of the tree, and now its gonna fall on top of the map room if we don't get a rope tied to the top of it and direct it down the right way," Gally explains the best he can without blowing up his temper.
The map room was a shed in the woods that all the gladers knew about, yet only the runners of the maze and Newt and Alby were allowed to go inside. It was an important and private place; Gally had a right to get upset that his boys would let a tree fall onto it.
Suddenly, I get an idea. I'm small and nimble enough to climb the tree without breaking any of the branches on the way up. I could easily get a rope secured to the top of it for them to pull it down the right way.
Slowly, I raise my hand above my head.
"I can do it," I say.
All the boys turn around to look at me in shock. Its as if they had forgotten I was there and now suddenly I was the smartest and bravest one out of them all. Awkwardly, I lower my hand and sheepishly rub my arm. Everyone's eyes on me are making me feel uncomfortable.
"Yes." "No." Gally and Newt say at the same time.
Obviously, this wasn't going to end well.
"Absolutely not," Newt repeats, glaring at Gally. Gally, however, seems to dismiss him.
"Here's the rope," Gally says, throwing a thick, looped rope at me. I fumble to catch it.
"Did you hear what I just said, mate?" Newt interrogates, holding out a protective arm in front of me.
"What I heard, Newt, was you suggesting to break the new rules," Gally answers, stepping up to Newt, "You think she shouldn't do it because she's a weak, little girl that needs protecting. But that's breaking the rules because we're supposed to be treating her like one of us. At least she's holding up her end and being a man." By the end of his sentence, Gally has placed a pointed finger on Newt's chest and both hold steely, cold stares at one another.
Silence fills the air. The force of intensity between the two leaders is suffocating. I know Gally can be a piece of clunk most of the time, but this time he's in the right. Newt isn't treating me like a Glader. I know Newt's the closest thing I have to a friend so far and that he's trying to protect me, but he doesn't need to hover over me like a babysitter. The feeling of betrayal stabs at my chest.
'Its now or never,' I think before making my way to the base of the tall pine tree.
The pine is like a giant Christmas tree with large, sturdy branches on the bottom, to smaller, thin branches ranging higher up the trunk. Its like a jungle gym just my size. It'll be an easy and safe climb.
"Gree-nie...Greenie. Greenie!" Bill starts chanting, clapping his hands in rythum. In response, some of the other boys join in the fun to cheer me on. So I sling the rope over my shoulder and onto my chest, putting my right hand on the first branch.
Newt shouts over them, very upset, "Y/N, don't you dare!" He begins to march over to me, so I speedily climb up the tree and out of his reach. By now, all the boys are chanting, except for Newt and Alby.
"Newt, I can do this!" I yell back at him, trying my best to appear confident yet still be cautious. But as I continue to ascend, I feel a creek coming from the tree's base. I look down to see Newt shakily put his foot on the first branch.
'It won't support us both,' I realize, and take heed to finish the job.
I grab branch by branch, take step by step. I feel the sap from the bark cake up on my hands and smell the pine fill my nose. As I get closer to the top, the pine needles become dense, making it difficult to see. I'm losing my breath.
'Almost there,' I encourage myself.
CRACK!!!
The truck is giving way under the weight of both Newt and myself. I can feel the tree tip to the side. It'll crush the Map Room if I don't do something now.
"Newt!" I shout down at him, "Get down! The tree is falling!" At that, I take off the rope from my shouldier and tie the end of it to the top trunk of the tree. Its difficult because of my sappy hands, but I manage. Just as I'm about to throw the length of the rope toward Gally, I feel a tight grip around my ankle, forcing my to loose my balance. It's Newt. But when I slip back, a twig snaps across my eye, causing an injury of blindness. Tears immediately fall from my wounded eye, sting courses through my face, and I can't see where to accurately throw the rope. It could get tangled in the branches and never reach the ground.
"Newt, you have to throw the rope. I can't," I choke out in pain. But his response is worse than mine; his voice is full of anguish and suffering. I feel him shake, still tightly grasped around my foot.
"No. No, its too much...too much for me. I can't take this anymore," he mutters through quivering lips.
The tree is bending and the Gladers have stopped cheering. Instead, all I hear is the horrible hollers of the word "JUMP" coming from beneath us. I'm scared and blind. There's nothing I can do.
'This was a big mistake,' I think, clinging to the trunk.
"I can't do this," Newt continues to recite.
As the tree falls to the cold ground beneath us, I sigh and press my head against the tree, throwing the rope aimlessly into the air, cutting up my arm through the needles.
"Me neither, Newt. You were right. I can't do this."
And we fall.