CHAPTER 11 - The Griever Hole

                                    

                                          

Everyone is stunned to the point of absolute silence. No one dares to breathe, to move. After a minute or so, Minho brings out a small device from his pack. It looks like a metal cylinder, with wires protruding from one end, and the word WICKED printed on it in bold red writing. 
"Here," Minho says in a low voice, facing Chuck, "you take this. Stay behind us."
Chuck's eyes widen. He looks more fearful than I've ever seen him, so I put a hand on his shoulder. 
"It's okay," I reassure him, swallowing my pain as I put on a brave face, "just stick with me." 
Thomas looks around the group with a grave expression. "Once we're through, it'll activate, and the door will open. We stay close, we stick together, we get through this. We get out now... or we die trying." He nods once, hand gripped around his spear so tightly his knuckles have turned white. He turns away, sneaking one more glance at the Griever Hole. I feel Newt's hand gently brush past mine, lingering for a few seconds before he pulls it away reluctantly. His fingers are icy cold. 
Minho nods to everyone. "Be careful. Don't die."
"Great. We're all bloody inspired," Newt jokes flatly. Thomas faces the group again, eyebrows drawn together. He nods. 
"Alright. Let's do this."
Thomas lets out a loud battle cry, and soon enough so does everyone else. Shouts and yells echo around the walls as the boys charge down the corridor while me and Chuck linger behind. We hear a long, inhumane shriek which sends a shiver down my spine.
With my arm draped around his neck, me and Chuck move forward hesitantly. The corridor has a large round door at the end of it, and a bridge-like walkway, with two seemingly bottomless pits at either side. Immediately we see one large Griever battling every single boy, spears slicing through its body. It raises its clawed arm and impales one boy before throwing him down one of the pits. I cover my mouth with my hand, stopping a scream. Despite the spears in its body, the Griever doesn't seem to be backing down as it continues to whack at the boys. 
Me and Chuck edge closer, and I take a dagger out of my pack in preparation for a fight. We then charge towards the beast, screaming at the top of our lungs. The Griever sees us, screeching, as it throws some more boys down the chasms at the side of the corridor. I halt in my tracks. My eyes dart around, and I see Newt and Minho to the Griever's right, Thomas to its left. Letting out a breath of relief, I carry on down the corridor, groaning every time my left leg touches the ground. We're now a mere ten metres away from the Griever. Roughly twenty people are left standing. 
We try to go along the edge of the corridor, hoping the Griever won't see us, to no avail. It ferociously charges towards us, spears still wedged in its slimy body, letting out a piercing shriek. 
"Go, go, go!" I yell to Chuck. 
He bolts further down the corridor, me hobbling behind him. I hear the boys try to distract the Griever as it gains speed on us, some throwing spears from a distance, but it doesn't care about them anymore. The boys all sprint towards the Griever – towards us – roaring at the top of their lungs. 
As I weakly put my left leg down, it buckles, sending pain to radiate from my knee and spread through the rest of my body. I fall to the ground, hunched over in agony. There's no way I will get up in time. 
I see an immense shadow covering my body as an ear-splitting screech erupts from above me. A large trail of slimy gloop lands on the floor next to me. Looking up, the Griever looms over me, raising its clawed arm high in the air. I screw my eyes shut, gritting my teeth, waiting for the pain. 
But the pain never comes. I hear the Griever scream out, and open my eyes to see its slippery body collapsed on the floor, half of its legs sliced clean off. The boys surround it, yelling even louder, shoving its body further and further off the ledge. With one final cry - the beast's remaining arms flailing in the air - it falls down the pit, its body submerged in total blackness. Everyone cheers, rising their spears high into the air. I put my head back onto the concrete, laughing in relief. When I open my eyes again, Thomas crouches beside me, and he helps me up onto my feet.
"Shuck... I though that was it," I breathe, laughing slightly. He sighs, nodding his head.
"Yeah... same. When you fell, I-"
"Thomas, (y/n)!" Minho yells. Further down the corridor, two Grievers charge towards the group. Everyone's spears are drawn up again, prepared for yet again another fight. Oh, shuck.
"(y/n), go help Chuck with the door!" Thomas orders, picking up his spear and facing the Grievers. I nod quickly, staggering over to where Chuck waits for me by the Griever Hole.
"IT WON'T OPEN!" Chuck screams desperately. I hammer my fists against it.
"It's got to open, Chuck!" I grab the device in Chuck's hand, holding it up to the door, waving it around in case there's a sensor. Almost immediately, the door lights up like a screen, showing a red circular diagram with numbers one to eight on it. A code?
"THOMAS!" I scream. "THERE'S A CODE! EIGHT NUMBERS!"
Thomas turns to face Minho while he continues to battle with the Grievers. "Hey, Minho! What's the sequence?!"
"What?" Minho calls back. 
"The sections of the Maze, what's the sequence?!"
Minho stabs a Griever. "SEVEN! ONE! FIVE!"
I type in the numbers on the screen frantically, trying to keep up with what Minho's yelling. One of the Grievers falls down the chasm, into the darkness, the other still fighting. 
"TWO! Uh – SIX!"
Minho is hit by the remaining Griever's long metallic arm, whacking him across his chest. He falls to the ground, and the Griever pounces on top of him. He tries to shuffle away, the other boys spearing the Griever, hacking away at its arms. But the Griever's face gets closer to Minho's, opening its large gaping mouth, revealing its sharp razor-like teeth. Minho rams his spear into the Griever's mouth, pushing up against it with all of his effort. Then, Jeff charges forward, and rams his spear right into the Griever's throat with a ferocious cry. 
The creature staggers backwards, roaring, allowing Minho to scramble to his feet. Everyone backs away before the Griever regains its strength, running to the door, Minho calling out the numbers as he runs. 
"FOUR! EIGHT! THREE! That's it!" 
I click the 'enter' button. The red screen turns green, me and Chuck cheering, while the group of boys continue to sprint towards us. The Griever rolls around on the floor, and forces the spear out of its mouth. It shrieks, black slime spraying out of its mouth. It's even angrier than before, and it's charging towards us even quicker.  
The door opens slowly. Me and Chuck climb inside, shouting at the boys as the Griever gains speed. They reach the door and pile inside, the Griever only ten feet away. I quickly press a button on the wall, but the door isn't closing. Five feet away, three feet away...
The door snaps shut, leaving us in complete, immense darkness.