I watched Newt's back as we ducked into the Med-Jack hut. He's been stoic ever since we've come back. It was easy to tell when he was stressed or worried. Ironically, he wouldn't show as much expression like most would. He would keep on a placid mask so he could make sure everyone would stay put together. I didn't know how I could see past it. It was a characteristic I admired him for, but also something I worried over.
I heard painful pants coming from another room. I glanced to my right to see Alby who was laid tied down to a cot. His arms and feet were bound with rope that banned together on the branches constructing the bed. He looked similar to Ben, black spider-like veins sprawling crossed his exposed chest. He was unconscious despite pulling himself against the restrains in utter misery.
"Jeff, what's going on? What's the matter with her, why won't she wake up?" I sighed at the questions Newt fired at the Med-Jack. The girl was still unresponsive laying down on the cot I once occupied before.
"Hey man, I got my job the same way you did." I stared at her deep in thought. She said Thomas's name so she must remember something, right? Or perhaps an impulse?
Newt crossed his arms, gradually shifting his head to look over at Thomas who was staring at her longingly. It was like he was trying himself to see if he would remember her. He was trying to figure her out just like I was.
"D'you recognize her?" Newt pried. Thomas shook his head, his eyes faltering.
"No."
"Really 'cause she seemed to recognize you." A small pause filled the room.
"What about the note?" Thomas asked.
"We'll worry about the note later."
"I think you should worry about it now." Newt glowered over his shoulder, his forearms flexing as he turned his body.
"We've got enough to deal with at the moment." He retorted, eyes stern.
"He's right, Newt," Jeff interjected. Jeff on the daily usually had to deal with the stress of worry for the others. He was their only medical unit besides Clint, and they were no different than any other boy here. It hurt to see Jeff look so worn down. "The Box isn't coming back up. How long you think we can last?"
"No one said that." Newt smiled it off, shaking his head. "Let's not jump to any conclusions we just-- we just wait till she wakes up and see what she knows." I sighed, looking down at her.
It fell silent in the room, but my mind grew louder. A sudden pulsation of pain waved through my head. These headaches have become more constant, it was slowly beginning to drive me mad. I usually told myself it was the cause of the stitches.
I took a step back to leave the room and get a breath of fresh air. It began to feel stuffy and humid, it wasn't helping. Before I could leave, it was made apparent someone wanted me to stay. A hand fastened on my wrist, pulling me down.
She was awake. Her doe-like blue eyes were pooled with tears. Her face caused me to go weak with a wave of unidentifiable emotions. It plowed me down with a desperate feeling I couldn't put into words. It was a craving to remember something.
"Woah!"
Newt was quick to hold onto me as I fell down. He locked his arms around me from behind, holding me close to his chest. His eyes frantically searched the girl who held me, incredulity in his gaze.
"I'm sorry, Prim." Her raspy voice cracked. A transparent tear fell down her cheek, crystallizing her freckles dusting on her face. "I'm so sorry."
The tear slid down to her jaw, dripping onto the thumb of my hand of the one she clung to. Her desperate words were enough to cause my own eyes to sting. Her eyelids began to droop and her head fell limp against the elbow of her arm. With her conscious fading out her eyes landed on my neck, one final tear slipping from her eye.
"What was that all about?" Clint breathed.
"Seems like Thomas isn't the only one she remembers," Minho spoke up. I felt Newt shift behind me attempting to get me on my feet.
"Come on, love. You're alright." He whispered softly in my ear. I wasn't. I wasn't alright. The emotion still was looming on my shoulders and refused to let go. It was the feeling of a memory wanting to be remembered but it was too far to reach.
I turned into his chest and I cried. Right there in front of everyone. I wasn't shameful. I was frustrated. I was angry. I was lost just like everyone else and I wanted to go home. However, it was enough to be in his arms. Like always Newt was the comfort of perfection.
I felt the press of heat against my widow's peak, I recognized them to be soft tender lips. Newt pressed his thin mouth against my forehead to calm me down. His power to abate me was unfathomably incredible. It worked instantly.
"Okay, that's it." I heard Thomas mutter. The sounds of his footsteps began to stomp away.
"Where are you going?" Newt's chest vibrated.
"Back into the Maze," He spoke stiffly. "Prim,"
I peeled myself off of Newt, not being able to see clearly because of the blur glossing over my eyes
"I'm gonna figure out a way to get your voice back." I stared at him, astonished. This sudden burst of whatever this is came out of nowhere. "I don't know how. I don't know when, but I promise. Okay?"
With that, he stormed out of the hut, his shoulders tense. Newt shared an exasperated look to Minho who, in return, nodded, running after him.
_
"Hey! Hey, Thomas! Hey!" Minho chased down Thomas as he marched forth to prepare to head back into the Maze. He couldn't take it. He couldn't take at how he's seen people die by their own friends. He couldn't take everyone living in fear anymore. He couldn't take watching an undeserving miserable girl to cry voiceless cries.
Thomas was done.
"Hey!" Minho pressed his hand against Thomas's chest putting him to a halt. "What is this with you, huh? A death wish? You just got out and now you want back in? And what's with you saying promises you can't even keep?" Thomas wet his lips, shaking his head.
"Newt's said no one's ever seen a Griever and lived to tell about it, right? Well, Minho now we have one. You're telling me you're not even a little bit curious." Minho scanned his body language, unnerved by such a foreign questioning personality.
"Not really, no." Thomas rolled his eyes, attempting to plow ahead, only to be stopped back.
"So what's the plan? You're gonna go out there and dissect that thing all by yourself?"
"I will if I have too," Thomas spoke determined, his eyes burning. "Have the other runners left yet?"
"The other runners quit this morning." Minho motioned a few meters away from where Gally stood with a crowd of three other boys under the shade of scattered out trees. "After Alby got stung they're not in any hurry to get back out there."
Minho looked back to Thomas whose gaze was suppressing anxiousness. An unfed adrenaline rush coursed through Thomas's body.
"Why are you?" Minho asked.
"I think it's time we found out what we're really up against."
The moment Thomas woke up, the moment he had the time to process where he was, he knew there was more to this place. That inquisitiveness never doused for the restless nights he's been here. He wanted to know what lied beyond this Maze. He needed to know.
"Alright, but you're not going back out there alone. Meet me in the woods in a half an hour."
Letter Twenty-Five
Some days,
I feel everything at once.
Other days,
I feel nothing all.
The scariest part of that is that these words are to be taken literally. I feel things...
-Prim