The next week, I was awakened by footsteps pounding down the hallway outside my bedroom door. Sleepily, I peeked my head out to see Newt running by. His eyes looked red and irritated, and I heard him sniffle harshly before he rounded the corner to the stairs.
I followed down the hallway to the first floor. By the time I'd thrown open the front door to follow after him, his now distant figure was disappearing between the Doors into the Maze.
His eyes were probably tearing up because it's so cold. He must be getting an early start on his run. I told myself.
Before beginning work at the slaughterhouse, I went to see Frypan. He was serving the Runners breakfast at the moment, and He was just putting the finishing touches on their lunches. I sat on the make-shift counter as he worked and we had idle chit chat until he presented me with my breakfast.
Over the years, I had developed a great relationship with Frypan. He knew I would get up early on days I had to work and he would always have my meal ready so I could eat before the boys got up. I didn't like eating with the other Gladers. there were too many people crammed in one room, and most of my friends like Minho and Newt were in the Maze anyway.
After I finished with breakfast, I ran up to my room to grab my apron and I made my way to the Bloodhouse. I tied it tightly around my waist, grateful that the thick leather protected my clothes. Winston showed up about an hour later, and we worked on the carcass of a lamb. It's sad, I know, but I have to be honest. Considering how good lamb shank tastes, the gore was totally worth it.
Today the Glade was expecting a new greenie, and I still had that nearly invisible spark of hope that it would be a girl.
At noon, we stopped for our lunch break and jogged over to the Box once the greenie alarm sounded. A thick boy was cowering at the bottom of the box, his blonde hair stuck to his head with sweat. His name turned out to be Zara, and while Alby gave him the tour, we pulled the boxes of supplies out of the Box.
When everything was unloaded, Winston and I went back to work until it began to get dark, and the doors closed.
I'm going to be honest with you, Slicer work was mind-numbing. I may remember nothing, but this shuck job was boring. I was a person who loved change and adapted to it quickly. Butchering and chopping up animals on a daily basis really wasn't doing it for me.
- -
The monotonous cycle of rising early for breakfast, working with Winston until dinner, going to bed tired, and repeating went on for several months. As the days dragged on, I grew more and more frustrated. The walls felt as if they were suffocating me, and each time I passed by one of the Doors, I craned my neck, desperate to see anything in the hallways that stretched away from the Glade. The opening was always in reach, but it was against the rules Alby and the Keepers had created.
"Never go into the Maze. Only runners are allowed, it's too dangerous." He had laid down the law, and his voice had been stern and foreboding.
My relationships with Newt, Minho, Gally, and Alby slowly withered as the months passed. I hardly saw them anymore. I said good morning to them before they left, but once they come back they locked themselves in the Map Room to work on the Maze model Minho and I started together.
I rarely slept soundly enough to dream, but when I did, I dreamt of Thomas. Those nights felt like a respite. I could simply slip away from the Glade and be comforted by Thomas, even if it wasn't real. He was familiar and it gave me peace. It crushed me to wake up each morning and realize he wasn't in the Glade, and I wasn't home.
Through each passing night and memory, I couldn't help loving this boy I'd never met. Experiencing glimpses of our time together before I came to the Glade was like meeting him for the first time. Falling in love with him felt as natural to me as breathing.
However, it wasn't enough. A dream or two wasn't enough to suppress the claustrophobia I felt. I couldn't stand to be cooped up in the Glade, stuck slaughtering animals with Winston for a boss. Over time the need to escape the small, cramped Glade grew until I felt as if I was going insane. And then, finally, I snapped.
- -
I drifted to sleep, Thomas' arms wrapped comfortingly around my waist, his bodyheat keeping me warm. I was perfectly content as the world faded to a peaceful darkness as I felt his warm breath tickle my neck.
I rolled over, a slight smile on my face. The bed beside me was warm, and I stretched out my arm to feel for Thomas. When my fingers met cold sheets, my eyes shot open and I realized with a sharp pain that I was still in the Glade. I closed my eyes trying to suppress my sadness, but a tear slipped out before I could stop it. I sighed.
"I wish you were here, Thomas," I whispered quietly, my voice wavering.
Later that day, I was working at the Bloodhouse with Winston. We were tying up a lamb in order to kill it, so Frypan could prep it for dinner. As we worked, I could feel my disgust with the job, and my frustration with the Glade in me rising to the surface.
I hate this job, I thought. I hate killing innocent animals when I should be in the Maze, finding a way out. Finding my way to Thomas.
I should just go into the Maze, I growled to myself. It's not like they could Banish me for it, they'd probably just throw me in the Slammer.
I could feel my fingers twitching at my side around the familiar handle of my machete. I blinked slowly several times, my jaw clenching as I tried to prevent myself from making a rash decision.
"Are you okay, Thalia?" Winston asked gruffly, shooting me an annoyed look. "This blood isn't going to drain itself."
"I'll be watching out for you when you're down there. Don't you ever forget that." That was the last thing Thomas had said to me. At least, that was the last memory I had of him before waking up in the Box.
I smiled slightly, feeling a bit more couragous thanks to the newly resurfaced memory.
"I'm perfectly fine." I grinned. My mind made up, I reached up to untie the apron from around my neck and waist. Without a second thought, I dropped the apron on the ground, took a few steps backward, turned, and began to run.
I couldn't remember the last time I had ran. It felt good to feel my leg muscles lengthening, pushing me farther and farther from a place I hated. My hair whipped behind me and little bits and pieces stung my face as I made my way to the Doors that towered over the Glade.
"Stop her!" I heard Winston scream in the background, as he emerged from the Bloodhouse.
Alby came out of the Homestead, running to intercept me, a furious look on his face. He ran towards me. "Thalia, don't you dare!" He shouted, but he was already behind me.
I turned to look over my shoulder, and shook my head. "You didn't think I was going to stay a Slicer forever, did you, Alby?" I answered, letting out an laugh.
And then I was in the Maze.
Walls towered on either side of me, so tall I had to look almost straight up to see the top. Surprisingly, there was quite a bit of light in the Narrows and ivy crept its way up the walls, waving gently in the wind I created with my racing by.
My feet slapped on the concrete floor, creating a comforting rythmn. It was barely an hour after dawn, and the crisp morning air urged me on, cooling my body heat. The longer I ran, the more elated I felt. Adrenaline was pumping furiously through my bloodstream and I felt on top of the world.
I was free. I had finally escaped the Glade, swarming with Gladers. In the Maze, I was alone. Alby wasn't here to tell me what job I'd have. It was me and the Maze, just like it had been in my first month alone in the Glade. Each twist and turn of my route was imprinted firmly in my mind, and I had no doubt about how I was going to return to the Glade. I knew my way back, like every Runner should.
I was built for this. I paused, savouring my freedom, before a blood-chilling scream split the air only a few corridors over.
I froze, turning towards the sound. I heard an agonized cry and a sob, and that was all the motivation I needed to help.
I took off, winding my way through the Narrows towards the sound.
My breath hitched violently in my chest as I turned left, and came upon a long corridor. About two thirds of the way down, was Newt.
He was dangling about ten feet from the ground, upside-down. His foot was entangled in vines above him and it was twisted at an odd angle. His shin seemed to be in the wrong place. Blood was trickling from where his tibia poked through his skin, and I sucked in a breath sharply.
"Newt!" I gasped, covering my mouth with my hands.
He turned his face towards me, his features a morphed mask of agony. I ran over, and looked up at him helplessly.
I felt my heart break in my chest when I realized what he had tried to do. The only reason anyone would climb the walls. To jump off.
"Oh, Newt," I whispered wearily.
To my surprise, he didn't say anything in return, but a few tears slipped out of his eyes as his hands gripped vines furiously.
I grabbed a hold of myself and began to climb the wall to reach him.
"I'm going to get you down, okay?" I said comfortingly, keeping my voice calm. "You're going to be just fine." I let out a shaky breath.
When I reached him, I stretched out a hand and brushed my fingers across his forehead. It was a weird jesture, but for some reason it felt motherly. Newt was family to me, and it pained me to see him in such a fragile state, physically and emotionally.
I climbed a few feet higher, before taking hold of several vines. I looped them under Newt's torso and tied them on the opposite side. Instead of hanging completely upside down vertically, Newt was now laying partilally horizontal.
I slowly worked with his foot and he let out a groan each time it moved. It looked horrible up close, and though I tried to remain calm, I could feel the pressure to hurry. He had to get back to the Glade in time. Already, it was nearing noon, and I didn't know how quickly Newt would be able to walk. Shuck knows I wouldn't be able to carry him if he couldn't walk at all.
My fingers flew as I slowly untangled his foot, being careful not to jostle it. I took his legs in my arms, bracing my feet on vines. Slowly, I climbed down to the same level his torso was on, holding his lower body with one arm until he was laying totally horizontal. Then, I tied his legs there.
It was painstaking work, but I managed to continually lower the makeshift sling I had created until He was about two feet from the ground. I put my arm under his shoulder and he leaned on me heavily as he slid the floor slowly.
Newt had just seated himself and put his head in his hands when another boy rounded the corner.
"Newt! Holy Shuck, Newt! What'd you do?" Minho exclaimed, not even noticing me.
When Newt didn't respond, his shoulders shaking as he cried, Minho did a double take and realized I was standing next to him, doubled over, catching my breath.
Hands grabbed my shirt and I was slammed back into the Maze wall, Minho visciously pressing me against the hard concrete.
I let out a grunt as all of the air was pushed out of my lungs.
"What the shuck do you think you're doing out here, shank?" Minho snarled. "You're not allowed in the Maze. Alby's gonna downright murder you when we get back to the Glade."
I pushed him off of me angrily, my eyebrows furrowing into a deep scowl.
"Oh, please." I scoffed, frustrated. "I wasn't going to stay a Slicer. We both know I deserve to be a Runner. I don't know what shuck excuse you guys are going to come up with, but it better be pretty damn good." I growed right back.
"You're lucky I was nearby. If I hadn't found Newt, he'd probably have been dead by the time you ran into him." I pushed past Minho violently, and began to tear vines off the wall.
"We've got an hour until the Doors close, and we need to work together to get him back." I said glumly, not wanting to return.
Minho nodded before kneeling beside me, and helping me. We wove a sort of rectangular sling, that Newt could lie in. Minho would hold the front and I would hold the back.
We quickly eased Newt onto it, and took off. We were racing against time at this point, and Newt was biting his lip to keep from groaning as our footsteps swung him around. At this point, I didn't care if he was uncomforatble. If we didn't get him back in time, he would surely die.
We reached the Glade a few minutes before the doors rumbled shut behind us. The second we stepped onto the soft grass, we were swarmed by the other Gladers. Clint and Jeff, our Med-Jacks grabbed Newt from our hands, hauling him off to the Homestead.
I was met with the furious faces of Gally and Alby. Each of them grabbed one of my biceps, and practically dragged me to the Slammer.
"You're going to stay there until I see fit to let you out." Alby said lowly. "I hope you learn your lesson."
Although Newt was hurt, I had no regrets. I did what I had been dying to do for months, and I knew I was made to be a Runner. I could only hope that the others saw the same passion in me.
"It was worth it." I said with a grin.
Thanks, Thomas. I thought to myself.