Ivory Black - Oliver Riot
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The stale silence gave me a headache. No one spoke. They were too afraid their whispers would fracture their version of reality and uncover the nightmares which may be held captive within our memories. No one could make eye contact as everyone processed the information Thomas carried. No one could respond as each and every heart within the room shattered into shards of anxiety and hopelessness.
Tears gathered in a few eyes while everyone paled. The information was too real for us. Not even Minho could come up with a sarcastic comment to lighten the blow. Out of panic and curiosity, my mouth opened with a painful gap spewing slow questions I didn't really want the answers to anymore.
"Just...slow down a second'," My voice wavered, acting as an alarm to the disheartened Keepers, "Everyone in Glade was taken by W.I.C.K.E.D. as kids because of something really bad happened in the world that you can't remember? We're all a bunch of geniuses raised by scientists and grew up in special schools, lived semi-ordinary lives until the day we were sent into the Maze? Which is one giant experiment to test our reactions and responses to these 'Variables' quite literally thrown at us?"
My eyes lifted from the spot on the floor I've been staring at before making eye contact with my brother who stood in the circle of Keepers, trembling with anxiety. My peripheral vision caught the eyes of multiple Keepers gazing at me, their eyes trying to penetrate my stern walls. My gaze fell to the floor briefly before centering themselves onto the brown-haired boy in front of me.
"Yeah. That's exactly what I'm saying." Thomas swallowed, his eyes falling along with his sagging shoulders.
"So, taking our memories was for another one of these 'Variables'? To get a reaction? They left our brains empty for that?" Minho seethed quietly.
"They at least left our names alone." Jeff grumbled, his brows furrowed.
I watched Thomas' shoulders stiffen at the mention of our names. He sucked his bottom lip in between his lip, his eyes falling.
Noticing his crestfallen expression, an awful sensation crawled over my pale skin. I pushed myself from the post I was standing against, glancing to my side where Newt sat. Newt looked up at me with severe concern as he too noticed Thomas' deflating hope.
"What?" The word whisked out from my mouth like a bullet.
Thomas lifted his eyes to me again, his lips quivering as the truth shivered his veins. Briefly his homey, brown eyes gave me a sense of peace before shattering my reality with his words.
"Our names...all of our names are just stupid nicknames they made up - like Alby for Albert Einstein, Newt for Isaac Newton...," Thomas returned his chilling gaze to me as sympathy rolled from his frown, "Ame for Amelia Earhart, and me - Thomas. As in Edison." Thomas couldn't look at anyone in the eye as the news froze each Glader like a layer of frost.
My knees felt wobbly at the understanding that my name was not my name. Steadying myself on Newt's shoulder, I felt my heart sink through the floor as I began to feel nauseous. If my name wasn't "Ame", then what is? It could be "Amy" from my dreams, but it just doesn't feel right. Hell, nothing feels right. My right hand found my hip, as I continued to stare at Thomas. Whatever he had inside his head, I just wanted it out with so I can deal with it all in one go.
"Our names...these ain't even our real names?" Alby breathed out, looking just about as crestfallen as the rest of us.
"As far as I can tell, we'll probably never know what our real names were." Thomas shrugged defeatedly.
"I believe this klunk about as much as I believe Frypan's food is good for you," Winston glowered, denying the possible truth.
Irritation surged through me as I snapped my heated gaze to the Keeper of the Slicers. I was ready to let that shithead get a piece of my mind before Newt calmly slid his large hand overtop of mine. His calloused fingers soothed my internal rage, reminding me not to work myself up. I let my gaze drift over to the perched blonde, my attention leaving the argument which now plagued Thomas and Winston. Newt quickly sent me a gently grin, his eyes still wide with the unwanted truth. I relaxed into Newt's grip, ignoring the nagging in the back of my mind that one of these nights I could possibly lose him.
Alby was the one to bring us back to reality, "Just keep talking. I just don't get why none of us remembered this stuff. I've been through the Changing, but I didn't learn nothin'."
"I'll get to that in a minute...," Thomas breathed, barely glancing at Alby before turning to Newt, "Should I keep going?"
"Talk." Newt jutted out his chin, his hard eyes staring him down as he waited for the rest of the story.
"Okay, somehow they wiped our memories - not just our childhood, but all the stuff leading up to the Maze. They put us in the Box and sent us up here - a big group to start and then one a month over the last two years." Thomas rambled.
"But why? What's the bloody point?" Newt asked, shrugging his shoulders.
"T, we know this part." I urged on.
Thomas nodded, making dramatic hand gestures towards Newt and I, "I'm getting there. Like I said, they wanted to test us, see how we'd react to these Variables, and to a problem that has no solution. See if we could work together - build a community. We were given the most common puzzles known to civilization - a maze. All this added up to making us think there had to be a solution, just encouraging us to work all the harder while at the same time magnifying our discouragement at not finding one. What I am saying is, there is no solution."
Opinions from different parties were thrown about the room as everyone became defensive at the idea of having no solution. Even I began tossing out my own questions.
"See? Your reaction proves my point. Most people would've given up by now. But I think we're different. We couldn't accept that a problem can't be solved - especially when it's something as simple as a maze. And we've kept fighting no matter how hopeless it's gotten," Thomas became more enraged the more he spoke, "Whatever the reason , it makes me sick! All of this - the Grievers, the walls moving, the Cliff - they're just elements of a stupid test. We're being used and manipulated. The Creators wanted to keep our minds working toward a solution that was never there. Same thing goes for Ame and Teresa being sent here."
Hearing my own "name", come into the explanation, I leaned forward eager to hear my purpose.
"Ame was sent here a day before a scheduled Greenie would. She was used to trigger the Beginning. Her purpose, from what I can remember, was to test the waters and see if the Gladers would react positively or negatively to the change in Greenies. Then I was sent up exactly one month after Chuck. Then Teresa was used to trigger the Ending - whatever that means - the place being shut down, gray skies, blah, blah, blah. They're throwing crazy things at us to see our response and test our will. See if we'll turn on each other. In the end, they want the survivors for something important."
A scoff echoed across the Gathering, all heads turning to a now standing Frypan, "And killing people? That's a nice little part of their plan?" I nodded along to what Fry said, agreeing that this test was a bit excessive.
"Yes, Frypan, killing people," Thomas wiped his forehead, a gleam of anxiety flashing about his hazel eyes, "The only reason the Grievers are doing it one by one is so we don't all die before it ends the way it's supposed to. Survival of the fittest. Only the best of us will escape."
A momentary sense of comfort fell over me, considering how I had already fought a handful of Grievers. However, that comfort washed away the moment I thought of Newt and his bum foot. Then my thoughts went to little Chuck. Could they survive?
Before I could continue to spiral, the sound of a chair scraping against the concrete floor jolted my attention.
"Well, you better start talking about this magical escape, then!" Frypan seethed, causing my own wave of anxiety to shoot through me at his anger.
"I helped find the way out, but something still tells me I'm not gonna like what I'm about t'hear." Minho grumbled from my right, speaking for the first time since the beginning of the Gathering. Sensing the worry Minho refused to show, I placed my right hand on his shoulder, squeezing what little comfort I could provide. Like Newt, Minho placed his hand on top of mine, patting mine friendly before clenching it for support.
"Probably not," Thomas breathed, then begun, "The Creators want the best of us for whatever it is they have planned. They challenged us by hiding the code in plain sight."
"What's the code?" I questioned, anticipating the answer to the Maze.
Thomas swallowed the lump in his throat before lifting his gaze to Minho, "It was hidden in the walls of the Maze. It's the Section Sequence - eight numbers," Thomas stopped before looking at the floor with disappointment, "I should know - I was there when the code was created. Hell...I was there when the Maze was created."
Everything stopped. The Keepers held their breath and stilled their fidgeting muscles. They quietly exchanged glances between one another before ultimately falling back onto the sweating Thomas. I felt my heart stop beating for a moment as the possible concept of Thomas being part of the Creators fiddled with my thoughts. It didn't seem true. He was only a teenager - a kid. How could he possibly assist the Creators?
I felt my brows furrow as I blinked in Thomas' direction. "What do you mean?" I asked, internally begging for no vague answers.
Like Thomas had been doing for the majority of the Gathering, he barely gazed in my direction. His eyes skimmed my face before falling back to the floor like a weight hung on his upper body. The only reaction I could relate his exterior to was shame - and he was dripping with it.
"There's a reason Gally accused us for all this stuff, and why everyone who's gone through the Changing recognizes us, Ame." Thomas rambled, his trembling fingers picking at the dirt beneath his nails.
My gut clenched like a fist, the anticipation hurting more than the actual concern for bad news. As everyone remained quiet, I gripped both Newt and Minho's hand, hoping their warmth would wash away the panic that rose faster than common sea levels.
"Ame, Teresa and I are...different," Thomas suggested before he began rambling quickly, "We were part of the Maze Trials from the beginning - but against our will, I swear."
Dread filled my veins faster than my blood could course through them. I felt sick. My hands slipped out of Newt and Minho's grip as I stumbled away from my friends. My back was straight, hoping - begging - that my suspicious were wrong.
"Thomas, what're you talking about?" Minho spoke up first, briefly glancing at me.
"Thomas?" I tried to breathe out, my whisper going unnoticed.
Thomas continued, taking achingly long breaths, "Teresa, Ame, and I were used by the Creators. If you had your full memories back, you'd probably want to kill us, too. Well...most of us," His light brown eyes glazed over my stern form before proceeding, "I had to tell you this myself to show you we can be trusted now."
He stopped, quickly looking for reactions from the Keepers and I before exhaling, "The three of us helped design the Maze. We helped create the whole thing."
The world went quiet for me as I turned away from the Gathering, my clammy hand scraping across my scalp as I pushed my greasy hair out of my watery eyes. I felt so revolted being in my own skin and knowing that I helped cause the pain my friends endured. So many people - kids - had died trying to survive against the place I helped create.
Just breathe for a second. Some of this doesn't add up. I began thinking to myself.
"Ame," Thomas croaked, making me flinch, "You weren't involved in this as much as Teresa or I. Most things you helped with were unintentional and you were never forced into helping. You...you always did the right thing even though it was insane. But you are still connected to us. All three of us are connected to each other," He spoke to the rest of the Gladers, "Teresa, Ame, and I share a...gift, if you could call it that. It made us very valuable to the designing process of the Maze and it's construction. It's really strange, but I'm being one hundred percent honest."
He went quiet as he thought over his rambles, realizing how insane he sounded to the rest of the Gathering. I was jittering while I watched him fumble with his words, his hands massaging his temples as he whispered to himself.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when someone announced firmly, "Speak! Spit it out!"
"We're telepathic! We can talk to each other in our freaking heads!" Thomas crazed, his nerves getting the best of him.
I winced at his statement, turning away from the Gathering for the second time as heads began to turn towards me. I felt myself shrink into my shoulders, digging my two hands into the pockets of my skinny jeans. The room became gravely silent while I felt the eyes of the Keepers sear holes into my bones.
"Prove it," Winston scoffed.
For the second time that hour, I was ready to release my raging wrath onto Winston. However, as I turned towards him and responded with a scoff of my own, Newt came to the rescue again.
"That's not necessary. I've seen it happen." Newt spoke calmly, sitting straighter as he stared into Winston's eyes.
I held my breath while watching the Keepers turn to Newt. I felt a spread of warmth shimmer through my stomach as pride for the blonde prominently shined through my tiny smile. My previous guilt attacked my poor and damaged heart as I recalled our fight a few days prior.
"You've...seen them talk telepathically before, Newt?" Jeff asked with a raised brow.
"Yeah, sorta. It was a week or so ago. It was when Teresa was still asleep and I took the two up to see if they recognized her. It was quiet for a bit before Tommy fell out of his chair asking us if either Ame or I said something - which we didn't. He told me that he heard her say her name inside his head before he klunked his pants and ran out the door. Ame explained everything to me later. Sayin' how they had recognized each other from the beginning and how she can hear Thomas and Teresa speak inside her head. I thought they had both gone looney at first. But they were both reacting as if they were in the middle of a conversation. Lasted for five...ten minutes. It sounds whack but it happened. It's too insane to lie about." Newt explained the intense scenario, being completely blunt and composed.
I shuffled closer to Newt, happy I confided in him. It was definitely a good idea to tell him the truth. I placed my hand back onto his shoulder, earning his attention.
He looked up at me, watching a small smile curl onto my pale face. I was thankful for him. I was thankful for him standing by my side and defending me, but I was also thankful to have him in my life. Newt gave me a soft smile in return cupping my hand in his again, before facing the Keepers again.
"It-it sounds crazy and it is. But listen to me," Thomas started again, frantically defending himself, "They forced Teresa and I to help. I don't know why, but they used Ame as motivation. They threatened me that they'd hurt her or put her far away from me-"
"Why? Like why Ame and not anyone else?" Francis, the Keeper of the Bricknicks, asked.
Everyone leaned forward in their seats, eager to answer the rumours, while a shard of terror pierced my chest at the thought of being used as leverage against my brother. I swallowed down my guilt, reminding myself to ask him more about it later.
Thomas gazed up to me, finally holding my gaze for longer than a millisecond. He pursed his lips together as he studied me, trying to decide whether it was important enough to discuss or continue with the important information.
So, to spare Thomas the minute it would take for him to explain, I gathered up my nerves and spoke to the Gathering loud and clear.
"Because Thomas is my brother," My voice came out firm as I kept my eyes on Thomas, aware of the quiet uproar of whispers around me, "And it's not a topic we need to discuss now. We have other matters to deal with."
The Keepers went silent as Thomas nodded gratefully at me. However, I still continued despite Thomas' eager expression to proceed apologizing and explaining himself.
"We're all in the same boat now. It doesn't matter anymore where we came from or who we helped or who was...threatened. None of have memories and we all wanna leave this place. We can all die just as easily. Right, T?" I swallowed my nervous nauseous, gazing at Thomas with the same purses lips.
Thomas' expression varied between relieved and guilty. He sighed visibly, nodding at me before taking the floor, "Yeah. But Creators have seen enough - it's time for the final test. I needed the Changing to find the code and reveal the truth. Anyway...I just wanted you all to know that...that there's still a chance we can do this."
I felt Newt move, turning my gaze and watching him shake his head. I frowned, thinking he was going to disagree. Then he went and proved me wrong again, "The Creators - those shanks did this to us, not Tommy, not Teresa, not Ame. The Creators. And they'll be sorry."
My hand gently squeezed Newt's shoulder, smiling to myself as Newt nodded at Thomas. He never fails to make me proud of him.
"Whatever," Minho finally spoke, sinking down in his chair as he crossed his arms, "who gives a klunk about all that - just get on with the escape plan already."
Thomas visibly looked relieved to the lack of an anger uproar, happy that his friends don't despise him for once being a part of the Creators.
"The Griever Hole. With the key from the Griever, we have to jump off the Cliff and into the Griever Hole. There is a built-in scanner where we can tap in the Maze Sequence. That should open a door for us to leave the Maze and it will also shut down all the Grievers. It sounds easy, but the Creators know the end is near. Meaning...a lot of us might not survive." Thomas explained, his pursed lips wrinkling.
Suddenly, Alby shot up from his seat, the chair skidding back a few feet while the dark skinned man seethed towards Thomas.
"Now you're being a shuck idiot," He scowled, "Or a traitor. How can we trust a word you say if you helped design this place and the people who sent us here? We can't handle one Griever on our own ground, much less fight a whole horde of them in their den. What are you really up to?"
I blinked in disbelief, staring wide eyed at the leader.
"Alby," I warned, my voice louder than I thought, yet still going unnoticed as Thomas became enraged.
"What am I going to do? Nothing! Why would I make this up?" Thomas defended, tossing his arms around.
Alby clenched his jaw, lifting a stiff finger and jabbing it towards him, "For all we know you were sent here to get us all killed. Why should we trust you?"
I rolled my eyes, not seeing the importance in this conversation. It's clear how we can trust Thomas, and I'm not just saying that because we're related.
"Alby, do you have short-term memory problem? I risked my life - and Ame's - to save you in the Maze - you'd be dead if it weren't for me!" Thomas shot back, a humourless smile taking control of his lips.
Us. I wanted to correct, but ultimately kept my mouth shut.
"Maybe that was a trick to gain our trust. If you're in cahoots with the shucks who sent us here, you wouldn't have to worry about the Grievers hurting you - maybe it was all an act." Alby rambled, his eyes wide.
"My sister was put into danger and was hurt! If you're theory was even the slightest bit correct, you're telling me that you seriously think I would put Ame in danger? So, I can continue an act? I tossed myself to the Grievers on the chance that I could get my memories back, and help all of you get out of here. Do I need to show you all my cuts and bruises?" Thomas shot back, harshly.
Newt squeezed my hand at the mention of me put into danger and getting hurt, the memories of injured leg resurfacing. It no longer stung but rather ached along with the rest of my overused muscles.
Silence filled the room, awaiting for the next outburst. We watched Alby fight with his inward thoughts before desperately stating, "We can't go back!" His veins popped from his forehead and neck, trembling with a mix of dread and anger, "I've seen it. I've seen what our lives were like - we can't go back!"
"That's what this is about?" Newt's voice startled me as he stared incredulously at his best friend, "Are you kidding?"
Alby spun on his heel towards Newt, lifting his fist threateningly. He looked like he really wanted to punch Newt but knew it was wrong. He stepped closer to Newt's chair, still seething in his rage.
I moved before I could register what was doing. My hand slipped out of Newt's as I planted myself in front of him, lifting my chin and fearlessly meeting the dark eyes of the terrified leader. Alby faltered, his raging eyes softening at the sight of me. He released his fists, his palms awkwardly falling to his sides. He gazed down at himself in disappointment, before twisting around and planting himself back onto his chair, rubbing his hands across his face. Then Alby started to sob.
I twitched at the noise of his cries, my heart clenching at the traumatizing teen, no matter whether I was about to take a hit from him for Newt.
Newt tugged on the back of my shirt, pulling me to sit on his left knee. I perched myself, doing my best not to crush his leg as I awkwardly placed my own hands on my thighs. Newt squeezed my right forearm gently, demonstrating his gratitude towards my protective actions.
"Alby, talk to us," Newt cooed, softly speaking to the broken boy, "What's going on?"
A few sobs passed before Alby released raspy and heartbreaking sentences, "I'm telling you, we can't go back to where we came from. I've seen it 'nd I remember awful, awful things. Burned land, a disease - something called the Flare. It was horrible - way worse than when we have it here!"
The Keepers murmured to their neighbors or stayed silent as Alby proceeded to stare at the floor with tears streaming down his sweaty face.
"Alby," My own voice surprised me, "if we stay here, we'll die. All of us 'til there's no one left. It's worse than that?"
Alby lifted his head, staring at me - almost through me. His eyes were glossy as his own memories plagued him with terror. He focused on me while his words left a sting of recognition. However, I never had the chance to think of the Flare, as he spoke quietly.
"Yes," Alby breathed, "If you remembered, Ame, you would agree. It's worse. Better to die than go home."
I was quiet for a moment, pursing my lips together as I watched the leader have his own mental breakdown. Parts of me wished I could remember what they remembered so I could understand how they feel. Yet, the other half of me believed in the term "ignorance is bliss", meaning it was probably best not to know.
Thomas sighed slowly, before speaking softly to the leader, "Inside the Maze or out of it, we still live inside the world you remembered."
Alby released a deep breath, visibly deflating before rising to his feet, "Do what you want. Doesn't matter. We'll die no matter what."
Then he left. Walking right out the door, leaving the Keepers to gaze after him as the makeshift door swung shut.
Newt's head dropped as he let out a disheartened sigh, "He's never been the same since being stung - must've been one bugger of a memory. What in the world is the Flare?"
"Doesn't matter. Anything's better than dying here. We can deal with the Creators and whatever else once we're out. For now, let's plan this sucker: we use the key, go through the Griever Hole and escape. We got the key, got the code, got our escape route. If some of us die...so be it." Minho said bluntly, narrowing his eyes on every Keeper in the room, challenging them to disagree.
"Hold on a sec', you are driving me nuts. This idea of hanging out with the Grievers at their bachelor pad sounds as smart as killing ourselves." Frypan shot back, his head shaking side to side.
The Council Hall erupted into series of arguments, erratic tension filling the smaller wooden structure. Fear and courage went head-to-head as the Keepers argued over what would be best for them and their friends. I buried my face in my hands, massaging my temples to ease my mind off the onslaught of information swirling around my mind.
No wonder Alby never told the Greenies anything at first.
All of this information is just too overwhelming.
I squeezed my face as I took a deep breath, my head aching with all the knowledge. I stay composed, already planning to have a mental breakdown later in my room.
Newt noticed my crumbling exterior, placing his left hand on my tense shoulder and his right along the side of my thigh. He leaned forward, pressing his chest into my back as he asked me quietly, "What's wrong? You okay?"
I nodded, turning to face him, "Just overwhelmed, y'know?"
He nodded back, patting my thigh before leaning away from my ear and yelling loudly, "Hey, shut it! This Gathering ain't over and all your chirpin' is wasting time. Tommy, finish what you have to say."
A small smirk tugged on my left cheek as I watched him turn back to me. His annoyed expression melted away into a small grin as he faced me. Newt sent me wink at my knowing expression, making a breathy laugh leave my lips and easing my growing headache.
"I'm going through the Hole or I'll die trying to get there. Minho and Ame agree. And I'm sure Teresa's in as well. If we can fight off the Grievers long enough for someone to punch in the code and shut them down, then we can go through the door they come through. We'll have passed the tests. Then we can face the Creators themselves." Thomas continued, holding his fist in his other hand.
"And you think we can fight off Grievers? Ame fought one on our grounds 'nd barely survived-" Newt began, folding his arms over his chest before I made a quiet correction.
"Technically, I fought more than that." I muttered.
"Let-alone one attacks the Homestead every night and we still end up losing a Glader. Even if we don't die, we'll probably all get stung. Every last one of them might be waiting for us when we get to the Cliff - the beetle blades are out there constantly. The Creators'll know when we make our run for it," Newt scoffed, "They probably already know we're planning something."
I frowned at Newt's negativity, but didn't oppose to the possibility that he was right. The Creators probably know and all they're doing now is waiting for us.
Thomas' face visibly paled as he blinked, "I don't think they'll sting us - the Changing was a Variable meant for us while we lived here. But that part will be over. Plus, we might have one thing going for us."
"Yeah?" Newt clenched and unclenched his jaw, "Can't wait to hear it."
"It doesn't do the Creators any good if we all die - this thing is meant to be hard, not impossible. I think we finally know for sure that the Grievers are programmed to only kill one of us each day. So, somebody can sacrifice himself to save the others while the rest of us run to the Hole. I think this might be how it's supposed to happen." Thomas stated, playing with his fingers and wincing at how awful his plan really sounded.
"You've gotta be kidding?" I shot, shaking my head.
"So, your brilliant plan is to toss some poor kid to the wolves while we jump off the Cliff?" Winston scoffed.
For once I agreed with the Keeper of the Slicers.
"I'm glad you're so good at paying attention, Winston, 'cause yeah, that's my plan," Thomas finally gained some balls and sassed him back, "And it seems obvious who the poor kid should be."
My brows furrowed, my anxiety prominently returning as I cocked my head at Thomas.
"Oh yeah, who?" Winston scowled.
Thomas swallowed, tilting his chin upwards, "Me."
Fear shot through me. I thought I had lost him when he threw himself at the Grievers the first time, now he wants to do it again? I pushed myself to my feet, shaking my head furiously, "No. That's not happening."
The Gathering exploded into another uproar of arguments, this one louder as we all collectively disagreed with Thomas. Thomas tried to respond to everyone, turning in all directions as he tried to calm everyone down. Panic erupted in my chest as I desperately shook my head.
I just found out my best friend is my brother and here he is trying to kill himself. Again.
Noticing my panic, Newt patted my arm, comfortingly, before skirting over to Thomas and grabbing him by the arm, muttering words into Thomas' ear. My gaze bore into Thomas' eyes as they passed me walking towards the exit. He held an anxious determination that I knew was dangerous for his safety and wellbeing. However, it faltered when he saw me. I knew I looked as crestfallen as I felt. My gaze fell as I began spiralling down the idea of Thomas sacrificing himself, my heart shattering with thoughts of living without him.
I heard bits and pieces of their conversation at the door, the arguing around me proceeding.
"I'm perfectly willing to do it." Thomas stated in response to Newt.
Newt scoffed, "Oh, really? Mr. Noble himself, aren't ya?"
"I have plenty of my own reasons. In some ways, it's my fault we're here in the first place. Some more than others. Anyway, I'm going no matter what, so you better not waste it." Thomas snapped back, still guilt-ridden.
He wants to sacrifice himself because he feels guilty.
I barely heard the parts where Newt consoled Thomas that the Maze wasn't his fault.
"I know you feel you need to redeem yourself, but think about yours friends, Teresa...think about Ame. She just found out that she has a brother and you're ready to jump ship. I can't let you do that to her, shank. I can't let you do that to yourself." Newt said to Thomas.
I couldn't hear anymore as Minho started arguing, quite loudly with Francis. Sighing, I left my spot and walked in between them.
"Alright, children, settle down. Minho, stop flicking Francis!" I shouted over the noise.
A few minutes went by of me aggressively insulting the Keepers that spoke louder than a scrapping chair. I contained the noise the best I could, earning glares from those that I silenced before Newt returned to the Gathering, taking place in the centre of the room.
"L'right, everyone take a seat," Newt sauntered in the wide space as everyone scattered back to their designated seats, leaving two open for where Zart and Gally used to sit, "'Kay. Now this...this is something we should've anticipated. We've always wanted to find a way out of here 'nd find our ways home. I guess we should've known it was never going to be easy. The end is here and...we're all scared. The Glade is all we've ever known, and yeah - some parts of me want to stay, too. But even if I really wanted to stay, the Glade is falling apart. No sky, no supplies, the Doors won't close...and one of our friends are taken every night by the very things that haunt our nightmares.
"I get it. The Maze is a scary place, let-alone the unknown beyond 'nd the beasts within it. But I can't stay here. I don't want to. The Glade was our safe haven for two years but now it is time for us to move on. Now I ain't forcing any of you shanks to leave this place if y'all really don't want to, but I'm leaving and I'm sure there is a whole shuck-load of boys who will, too." Newt gazed at each Keeper, his eyes soft as he spoke to his friends.
"So, that's it? You expect us to just...jump off the Cliff and into the place the Grievers live, so that maybe we find an escape?" Joe, Keeper of the Sloppers, grumbled.
Newt lifted his two lanky arms, shrugging with pursed lips, "I don't see any other exit signs. Minho can vouch for that anyway."
Minho nodded, "That's for darn sure. I don't care if I have to jump into a Griever's home or a Griever's klunk. As long as there's an exit than I'll do whatever. I trust Thomas. If he says the Griever Hole is our only way out, than shuck it, I'm going."
My lips peeled into a grin at Minho's indelicate speech and at his dedication to Thomas.
"Alright, let's just...make a plan." Jeff sighed from the other side of the room, massaging his temples.
"Good that." Frypan responds.
Newt nodded at Fry, before gazing around at everyone else, "Our plan is to get to the Cliff, hopefully without any run-ins with our local Grievers. From there, either Thomas or Teresa can use the key to open the Hole. They'll punch in the code and we'll all file through this magic door Thomas believes will open," Newt stopped before sighing, "I know this ain't much of a plan, but hell, this is the closest we've ever been to escapin' and it'll probably be our only chance. So, let's get this kluck outta the way now, shall we? Who votes to stay 'nd continue watching their friends die one-a-night?"
Everyone began to look around, searching the circle of Keepers for the ones that wish to stay behind. However, to my amazement, not one person raised their hand. Solemn expressions masked the Keepers and I as we all came to a mutual agreement.
"All those for escaping or die trying?" Newt wore a crooked grin as he lifted his left hand into the air above his head.
Everyone followed, lifting up their hands to seal the end of Glade and represent the beginning of our new lives. Some Keepers were hesitant in agreeing to escape, fearing what may be beyond the Glade and beyond the Maze. Then there were some, like myself, that were so sure in raising their hands, ready to leave our little piece of hell behind.
"Excellent. Then it's settled." Newt nodded, a somber expression haunting his face.
"When should we leave?" I asked, making a mental check-list for all the things I need to prepare for before leaving.
Newt swallowed, his jaw clenched. He looked up into my eyes, trying to mask his anxiety as he spoke the one word that'll send me into a world of panic and terror.
"Tonight."
____________________
I knew university was hard.
I just didn't realize it would be this time consuming.
This took so long and I'm so sorry for the long wait! University literally took over my life and I had zero time to work on this story until now. Hopefully, I can post another chapter in the next few weeks considering how I am on break.
Fingers crossed.
Also, the majority of this chapter came straight out of James Dashner's novel with only a few exceptions of me inserting my girl, Ame, into the story. Even though it is in the description: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING, ALL CREDITS GO TO JAMES DASHNER. AME AND HER BACKSTORY IS MINE.
Also, if anyone would like any spoilers to the book, just message me and I can spill as much tea as you like. I know this story has literally taken me like six years to make, so if any of you just want to skip the wait and avoid the cliffhangers, just message me. I love talking about Ame. For real, ask my mom.
Gif and song is not mine!
Thank you!
-xoAwkwardDiamond