{1.8}

                                    

                                          
Disclaimer:
*aggressively screeches lyrics to both '18' by 5 Seconds of Summer and '18' by One Direction at the same time so it's mashed into one song*
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I had not expected Minho to be upset with us after we came into the Maze. I had not expected him to give up so easily. I, above all, certainly did not expect him to leave us there with a basically-dead Alby and a Griever headed our way.
I was thankful I switched rooms and now bunked with Newt. Then a sickening feeling washed over me as I realized I would probably be staying in Alby's room since it would be empty. Or I wouldn't get back at all and die out there in the Maze.
I wasn't going to let the third option happen. I was going to make it out alive.
But doubt washed over me as the noises grew louder, the haunting sounds ringing in my ears. Then there was a strange scent in the air like something was burning or oily. 
Thomas turned toward Alby, who was still laying on the ground where I put him and hadn't moved at all. He cautiously put a hand on his chest to feel his heart. After a second, he nodded, and I sighed in relief. He was still alive.
"Help me," Thomas ordered quietly. I nodded and took one of Alby's arms. Together we lifted him so his arms were around our shoulders and struggled mercilessly to get him to the wall. My calves burned with strain at the dead weight, and with me being several inches shorter than Thomas, the imbalance only made it worse. Our leader's heavy boots dragged uselessly along the ground.
It was too much for even the both of us combined. My legs buckled underneath me and I dropped to my knees while Thomas flew forward on his face. Alby, who was supported unevenly, started to topple to the ground.
We then tried a different approach: grabbing both of his arms and dragging him across the ground. We stopped when we got a bit farther down the corridor, realizing we couldn't possibly carry Alby through the Maze. It wouldn't do us any good if we were all dead. 
I felt along the wall until my hand brushed the ivy. From there it tumbled down from the top of the wall in a jumbled sheet of vines. They were much thicker and stronger than I'd imagined, and when I tugged, they barely bent. I tugged again, harder this time. They still held.
"Thomas, what if we got Alby up there?" I suggested in a hushed voice. "We could protect him a bit, at least."
"Are you crazy?" Thomas whisper-shouted. "The vines will break—"
"Just trust me. They're strong enough."
Thomas hesitantly nodded and helped me bring Alby closer to the ivy. He began to rip smaller, thinner strands of vine and made a series of climbing ropes. The gears were turning quickly in his mind. Survival instincts started to kick in, giving him macabre ideas that I didn't suspect he would have thought of without the Griever headed toward us.
I thought things were going all right until a horrible crunching sound made us freeze. I thoroughly searched all three directions of the Maze and saw nothing coming, but the sounds were getting louder and I knew we didn't have much longer until the Griever came.
I instructed Thomas to start working faster and he motioned for me to help. He started wrapping the vines around Alby's left arm while I followed suit with the right one. However, I was extremely bad at tying knots that would stay. Thomas got so frustrated at my failing that he took over, his fingers working quickly yet meticulously as he secured the plants tightly.
"Climb," he commanded, and so I did. Taking hold of one of the stronger branches, I heaved myself upward. The tangles of vines served as handholds and the many cracks in the stone wall were places for my feet. My arms strained, but I brought myself higher.