Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time,
You and I drink the poison from the same vine
Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time,
Hiding all of our sins from the daylight...
-
Her heart pounded in her chest, each step echoing through the sterile, dimly lit hall. The cold floor sent shivers up her legs, but it was nothing compared to the icy dread that twisted in her stomach.
A man in a crisp uniform walked ahead, leading them down the narrow corridor, his back straight and unyielding. She didn't dare ask where they were going; the cold, detached look in his eyes was enough to silence any questions before they even formed.
It wasn't until she glanced down that she realized she'd been clutching onto someone's arm.
Thomas's.
Her fingers had wrapped tightly around his sleeve, knuckles white with fear. She hadn't even noticed in her panic.
He leaned in slightly, his voice a whisper meant only for her ears. "Don't be scared."
She turned her head, looking up at him, searching his face for any sign of reassurance. His words were steady, but his eyes betrayed him, he was scared too, just as much as she was. The uncertainty, the fear of what waited at the end of the hall, was shared between them.
Before Emma could respond, the girl on her other side, a dark-haired, sharp-eyed girl, leaned in, her voice a bitter hiss. "You should be scared. They're going to teach us a lesson. A real one. About what happens when you go out there."
Emma's breath caught in her throat, a chill creeping through her that had nothing to do with the cold.
She wanted to believe Thomas, to take comfort in his words, but the girl's warning gnawed at her. The group had been caught outside the facility, wandering where they weren't supposed to, and now they were paying the price.
She remembered the chaos as they were separated from the others, the sharp bark of orders, the grip of hands pulling them apart. Three of her friends had been dragged away, their fearful muttering about "immunes" lingering in the air like a haunting echo.
But she, Thomas, and this other girl had been taken somewhere else.
Somewhere unknown.
"Come on now," a female guard said to them, reaching out to nudge them forward. "If you cooperate, you'll be back in your rooms safe and sound before you know it, with enough time for a quick nap before the wake-up."
Emma was squeezing Thomas's arm so hard she was surprised he hadn't scolded her. Instead, he nodded at the woman and kept his gaze forward. The kids followed the guard when she started walking away, leading them along a path that followed the footprint of the WCKD complex.
Suddenly another guard emerged from the other side of the corridor, three kids trailing behind him.
As they continued down the dimly lit corridor, the cold walls looming over them, another guard appeared from the opposite end. Trailing behind him were three kids. Emma's heart skipped a beat when she recognized one of them.
Aiden.
She'd met him just a few weeks ago, under circumstances similar to how Thomas had met the girl now standing beside her.
Aiden's familiar face, pale and filled with uncertainty, brought her a flicker of relief amidst the fear. But there were two others with him, kids she couldn't quite place, though their faces tugged at the edges of her memory like half-forgotten dreams.
Emma's gaze lingered on them, a strange sense of familiarity blooming in her chest, but there was something off.
Someone was missing.
Her eyes darted around the corridor as if searching for the person who should've been there. An uneasy feeling spread through her as she looked around, her steps faltering for a moment.
Thomas, who had been quietly observing her, glanced over curiously. "What is it?" he whispered, his voice low and strained.
She didn't answer right away, her eyes scanning the hallway until they landed on a figure standing yards away. A boy, head down, face aimed at the ground, stood still with a guard beside him. A sense of dread washed over her, her breath catching in her throat. The sight of the boy, isolated, sent chills down her spine, though she couldn't explain why.
'Not all of them are immune...' the thought came to her without warning.
Before she could say anything, Thomas grabbed her hand, his fingers squeezing hers in an attempt to comfort her. He was trying to be brave, for both of them, but she could feel the tremble in his grip.
The girl beside them, her sharp eyes darting nervously between the guards, suddenly spoke up. "Can't you tell us where we're going?" Her voice wavered slightly, but she held her head high, defiant in her fear. She paused for a moment before her tone hardened, filled with both curiosity and dread. "
What are the Crank Pits?"
At the mention of the Crank Pits, Emma's blood ran cold. The words hit her like a slap, and her eyes widened with a new wave of terror.
What were Cranks?
What were Crank Pits?
The very sound of it felt wrong, dangerous. Her stomach twisted in knots as the ominous name echoed in her mind. Whatever the Crank Pits were, they couldn't be anything good. Fear settled deep in her bones, thick and suffocating.
The guards exchanged looks but didn't say a word. Instead, they gave each other knowing nods and kept walking down the hall, as if the girl's question didn't deserve an answer.
"Answer her" Thomas mustered the courage to speak, his voice firmer than Emma had expected. His grip on her hand tightened as he spoke again, this time with a plea. "Please... we didn't do anything wrong. We were just exploring. What are we? Prisoners?"
The guards ignored him once more, as the group continued to walk in tense silence, the only sounds being their footsteps echoing against the cold, empty corridor.
"Say something" The girl beside her demanded when the guard leading them finally turned around to face them.
"You think I like this?" she snapped.
Then she looked around like someone caught stealing and lowered her voice. "I'm sorry... just do as you're told... it makes things a lot easier. All we're going to do is help you realize why it's better to stay inside."
The female guard turned after that and continued leading them along the hallways until they made it to a door, leading them outside once more.
No one said another word, but Thomas kept her hand in his, trying to reassure her that it would be alright, even if he didn't believe that himself.
They eventually made it to a road.
To the right, there were fields and to the left, it intersected with the large facility they'd just walked out of and turned into a steep ramp that descended beneath the building.
The air was cool, but it did nothing to ease the unease that clung to her like a second skin. She instinctively looked back over her shoulder at the door they had just walked out of with a deep sense of dread flooding her.
Something inside her screamed to turn around, to run back into the safety of the facility, even though she knew there was no real safety there either.
Her eyes scanned the group behind her, landing on Aiden and the other two kids who had been led from the other side. Their faces were pale, eyes wide with fear, mirroring her feelings.
Aiden looked like he was on the verge of breaking down, his lips trembling, while the other two clutched each other's arms as if that would keep them grounded. She could see her fear reflected in them, and it made her stomach twist even more.
Just then, she felt a gentle tug on her hand, snapping her back to reality. Thomas was pulling her forward, his eyes urging her to keep moving.
Emma turned back to see the guard stepping onto the asphalt, her boots making a heavy thud as she moved left, leading them toward the darkness of a tunnel that descended beneath the facility.
The road dipped down and soon they were beneath the building in a wide tunnel with no light.
That's when she heard it, making her pause mid-step. It was haunting, a human sound between a cry and a moan.
Maybe not so human after all...
Goose bumps prickled across her skin, and she felt a shudder of horror go through her body.
The guard leading them suddenly stopped in her steps and turned to them, pulling out a flashlight and shining it on their faces.
"This is it, in you go" she spoke as the other guard who'd been leading the other kids walked over, unlocking an old rusty door Emma hadn't even noticed due to how dark it was in there.
The door rattled harshly as the moans and groans grew louder from inside.
"Don't worry they won't hurt you... but they'll definitely scare the pants off of you and teach you a lesson." The guard reassured them.
"Come on guys" one of the boys from the other group spoke up marching towards the doors. But Emma didn't want to, every nightmare she'd ever had welling up inside her, adding to the sense of dread...
-
Emma jolted awake, Chuck's voice cutting through the lingering haze of her nightmare.
"Guys, get up!" Chuck's voice rang out across the Glade, stirring groans from the few Gladers who had trickled back during the night.
Emma's eyes flew open, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts as the nightmare's grip began to loosen but didn't fully fade. She sat up quickly, her heart racing as the remnants of that haunting memory clung to her, cold corridors, guards, and the dark tunnel.
Beside her, Newt groaned, stretching out lazily before muttering, "Mornin', love." His voice was groggy, and he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
Emma forced a faint smile, the tension in her body betraying her as she whispered back, "Morning." But her voice was distant.
Her hands trembled slightly as she stood up, a lingering response to the fear the dream had stirred in her. Before Newt could say anything more, she slipped away, making her way toward Chuck, who was standing a few yards away, his eyes locked on the maze doors.
"Emma!" Chuck shouted again, turning just as she reached him. "Come see this-"
"Chuck!" she cut him off, her voice a little too sharp, her nerves frayed.
"Stop yelling. Everyone's trying to sleep." She scolded the boy as Gally began to walk over, glaring as usual, but his eyes flickered down to her hands.
She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to hide the shaking in her hands and ignoring him as he approached. His look was sharper, but something unreadable crossed his face. He didn't say anything, just scoffed under his breath and turned away.
As the maze doors groaned fully open, Emma, Chuck, and the other Gladers stood frozen in anticipation, eyes locked on the dark entrance. A gust of wind rushed through, a chilling reminder of the unforgiving world beyond those walls, waking them up fully.
Chuck leaned forward with wide eyes, his breath held as if willing Thomas, Minho, and Alby to walk out.
Seconds ticked by in silence.
The excitement on Chuck's face slowly drained, replaced by a flicker of doubt as the empty entrance loomed larger. The wind seemed to echo the void, and the stillness in the air became almost unbearable.
No movement.
No sound.
Emma felt her chest tighten, the weight of disappointment and dread sinking in. She exchanged a glance with Newt, whose expression mirrored her grim acceptance. He sighed heavily, looking down at Chuck, whose face had fallen completely.
"Told you, Chuck," Newt said softly, his voice tinged with sorrow. "They're not coming back."
His words carried a finality that hung in the air, making Emma's heart sink even further.
Newt limped away, shoulders heavy with defeat, and the others, including Zart and Gally, began to follow. Emma sighed, glancing at Chuck with a sympathetic shake of her head. She started walking towards him, trying to figure out what to say to ease the hurt that was so evident on his face.
But before she could speak, Zart's voice cut through the gloom, stopping everyone in their tracks.
"No... way," Zart whispered, his tone filled with disbelief.
Emma's heart leaped, and she whipped around to face the maze, her pulse quickening. The others turned as well, their eyes wide with shock.
And then, emerging from the corner, there they were, Thomas and Minho, dragging an unconscious Alby between them.
"Holy-" Emma began
"Fuck" Newt finished, watching them rush out of the maze in shock.
Chuck's face lit up like a beacon of hope, his excitement returning with a vengeance. "Yeah!" he screamed, jumping up and down.
The Gladers stood there, frozen in awe for a split second, before rushing forward to help.
Thomas and Minho looked beyond exhausted, their clothes torn and dirt-streaked, sweat glistening on their foreheads. Emma's heart hammered in her chest as she sprinted toward them with the others, a wave of relief crashing over her.
As they reached the trio, Minho and Thomas carefully lowered Alby to the ground.
He was still out cold, his breathing shallow, and his body covered in grime and blood. Jeff quickly pushed his way through the crowd and dropped to his knees beside Alby, immediately assessing the damage.
"Let me take a look," Jeff muttered as he began to check Alby for major wounds. His face was tight with concentration as he worked, his hands moving swiftly over Alby's body. "He's alive, but he's in bad shape."
"What happened out there?" Jeff asked, his voice tense as he turned to face Minho and the Greenie, the two of them looking like they had barely escaped a nightmare.
"How did you guys make it out?" Zart followed up, not even waiting for the first question to be answered, his eyes wide with disbelief.
Everyone's attention snapped to Thomas, who was leaning against the wall, trying to catch his breath.
Chuck piped up, his voice edged with worry and curiosity. "You saw a Griever?" he asked, barely able to hide the excitement in his tone. The crowd of Gladers around them leaned in closer, waiting for a response.
Thomas nodded slowly, still trying to process everything himself. "Yeah... I saw one," he finally managed, his voice barely more than a whisper. His eyes were wide, as if replaying the encounter over and over again in his head.
Minho, who had been standing beside him, looked just as shaken, but there was something else in his expression, disbelief mixed with a strange, reluctant admiration. He took a breath, letting the tension of the moment build before he spoke, his voice carrying a weight that made the other Gladers lean in even closer. "He didn't just see one," Minho said, shaking his head as if he still couldn't believe what had happened. "He killed it."
Emma's eyes met Thomas's, and in that moment, the exhaustion and relief in his gaze mirrored her own emotions.
They'd made it, against all odds, they'd survived the night in the maze.
As soon as Minho and Thomas were helped to their feet, Clint and Jeff moved swiftly, guiding them along with Alby toward the Homestead. The two boys were utterly spent, and Alby's unconscious form slumped between them, causing everyone to move with an urgent but careful pace.
Emma stayed behind with Chuck, her eyes locked on the door that now concealed them, her worry gnawing at her insides. She couldn't shake the image of Alby's lifeless body or the haunted look in Thomas's eyes.
Chuck stood beside her, bouncing nervously on his heels, desperate for news. "Do you think they'll be okay?" he asked, voice small.
Emma glanced down at him; her own heart tight with concern. "I don't know, Chuck... I hope so." She tried to sound reassuring, but the knot in her stomach told a different story.
Just then, a familiar voice rose sharply, cutting through the quiet air.
It was Gally.
She turned, seeing him approaching Newt, who was making his way toward the Homestead. Gally seemed worked up, this time more than usual.
"This is bullshit, Newt!" Gally barked, blocking Newt's path. "We've got rules for a reason! You can't just let him get away with running into the maze like that!"
Newt was on his last nerve and looked exhausted as he listened to the builder.
His eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched as Gally ranted on. He was trying to keep his composure, but it was obvious the constant pressure was wearing him down.
Gally kept going, his voice louder now, gathering attention from the surrounding Gladers.
"We have those rules to keep us alive!" Gally continued, jabbing a finger in Newt's direction. "And now, because of him, Alby is barely hanging on! We can't let this slide."
Newt's face darkened, and it looked like he was ready to snap, but before he could respond, others started chiming in. There were murmurs of agreement with Gally, others standing quietly, unsure of where they stood. Emma felt the tension in the air spike, a storm brewing as everyone began to voice their opinions.
Annoyed, she stormed over, leaving Chuck on his own.
"That's not fair, Gally," Emma said, stepping forward. "Thomas survived the maze. He shouldn't be punished for that, he saved Alby!"
Gally turned on her with a glare. "Stay out of this. No one cares about what you have to say"
Emma squared her shoulders, unwilling to back down. "Thomas isn't some threat just because he broke the rules. If it wasn't for him, Alby would be dead right now."
"You don't get it!" Gally snapped. "The rules are there for a reason. Do you think just because he got lucky that we should ignore what he did? He's going to get more people killed!"
"She's right," Zart added, his voice calm but firm. "Thomas survived. We should be figuring out how he did it, not punishing him for it."
The crowd murmured in agreement with Zart's point. Gally's frustration grew, his fists clenched as more people started to agree.
Winston then stepped in, his voice carrying over the crowd. "Look, maybe we need a vote on this. Call a meeting, settle it fair and square."
Newt, who had been quietly fuming through the argument, finally snapped. "Fine! We'll have a bloody vote!" he spat, his patience fraying. "But not now. Not until I've checked on the three of them. After that, we'll deal with this mess."
Without waiting for any more arguments, Newt stormed into the Homestead, leaving the crowd behind. Gally grumbled under his breath but didn't push the issue further, though his dark glare lingered on Emma before he turned away.
As the Gladers dispersed, Frypan called out to announce that breakfast was ready, trying to calm the tension in the air. Emma followed the others toward the kitchen, but her mind was elsewhere, her thoughts swirling with worry.
She sat down at one of the tables with Zart, who began rambling on about the garden and their upcoming tasks.
Emma barely heard him. Her mind replayed everything that had happened to them within the last few hours: how Gally had tried to get her and Thomas banished her, then Thomas actually running into the maze and leaving them worried all night for him, and then there were the dreams that were only getting more and more intense each night.
Of course, there was also that moment with her and Newt last night...
But she'd pushed that thought far in the back of her mind. There was no time for that, not when Alby was seriously hurt and could potentially end up like Ben...
"Hey, are you listening?" Zart suddenly asked, raising an eyebrow.
Emma blinked, snapping out of her trance. "Huh? Oh, sorry... what were you saying"
Zart chuckled lightly. "Yeah, I figured. You've been a million miles away since... well since Thomas got here."
Emma sighed, rubbing her temples. "Sorry... I'm just worried about... everything"
Zart's expression softened. "I get it. We all are." He paused, then asked,
"You gonna be, okay?"
She nodded absently; her thoughts still tangled. "Yeah... I'm just gonna... bring them breakfast, they might be hungry after running all night... I'm pretty sure Minho is."
She pushed her chair back and excused herself from the table before Zart could protest, grabbing a couple of trays.
Emma walked into the Homestead, her hands full with a plate of sandwiches, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife. As she stepped inside, she overheard Jeff speaking in a low, serious tone.
"It's not looking good Newt," Jeff said quietly, glancing at Clint, who was busy tending to the unconscious leader. "Just like Ben when he was in here... right before..."
Emma's heart sank.
She caught a glimpse of Newt standing off to the side, his face etched with frustration and defeat. The sight of him like that, shoulders slumped, staring at Alby as if he were already lost, made her chest tighten.
Before she could fully process it, she heard her name.
"Emma?"
It was Thomas's voice.
Everyone turned to look at her. She managed an awkward smile, feeling a bit out of place.
"I, uh... thought you guys might be hungry," Emma muttered, holding up the plate. She wasn't sure what else to say, everything seemed so grim, and she didn't want to add to it.
Minho, never one to waste time, immediately perked up. "You know me too well," he muttered, grabbing a sandwich before anyone else could react.
He took a huge bite, savoring it as if it were the best thing he'd eaten in days.
The others slowly began to do the same, gratefully for the small moment of distraction. She placed the plate down on a nearby table for the rest of them, her gaze falling on Thomas as she moved to sit beside him.
"How's Alby?" she asked softly, not wanting to break the fragile peace in the room but needing to know.
Thomas sighed, shaking his head. "They're doing everything they can... but it's not looking good."
Emma nodded quietly, her eyes drifting back to where Clint and Jeff hovered over Alby. The weight of the situation settled heavily on her chest, the same dread she'd felt earlier creeping back in.
Emma couldn't help but feel the tension rolling off him. His hand rested on the edge of his seat, fingers fidgeting as his eyes remained fixed on Alby, guilt and worry etched deep in his expression.
"You saved him, you know," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "If it weren't for you and Minho, he wouldn't even be here right now."
Thomas glanced at her; his eyes filled with uncertainty. "Yeah... but I don't know if it's enough. What if I just dragged him back so he could die here instead of out there?"
Emma shook her head firmly. "No, you did what you had to. You gave him a chance, Thomas. That's more than any of us could've done."
He didn't respond right away, just gave her a small, almost imperceptible nod.
Newt remained silent, still by the side of the room, his face showing how deeply Alby's condition affected him. The air was thick with unspoken fear, every glance toward the bed a reminder of what they might lose.
Minutes passed in tense silence, broken only by the occasional shuffle or cough. Even Minho had fallen silent, now simply picking at the sandwich in front of him as he watched Clint and Jeff work.
Finally, Newt cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention.
"We should all start heading out, give the med-jacks some space, and deal with that bloody meeting Gally wants... gotta get that done and over with before he throws another fit," he said, his voice quiet but firm.
Minho stood, stretching his arms. "I'll handle it" he muttered, giving Alby one last glance before heading out. Emma watched him leave, before turning back to Newt who simply nodded before stepping out of the room without another word.
Emma quietly followed Newt as he slipped out of the room, her heart heavy with concern. She could see the tension in the way his shoulders slumped and how he dragged his feet. The weight of the situation was visibly taking its toll on him.
When they were a few steps away from the others, she gently called out, "Newt?"
He stopped but didn't turn around immediately, his head hanging low. Finally, he glanced over his shoulder at her, his eyes filled with exhaustion and worry. Emma hesitated for a moment before stepping closer.
"How are you holding up?" she asked softly, her voice filled with genuine concern.
Newt let out a long, shaky breath, looking away as he ran a hand through his hair. He didn't answer right away, instead staring at the ground as if searching for the right words. When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse.
"I... I don't know... I don't know how to handle any of this," he admitted, the vulnerability in his voice catching her off guard. "I never wanted this responsibility. I never expected it to be thrown at me like this..."
He paused, his fists clenched by his sides.
"I just... I keep thinking I should've stopped him. I should've stopped Alby from going into the maze. Or... or maybe it should've been me. Maybe I should've gone instead—"
"Don't," Emma cut him off firmly, stepping in front of him and placing a hand on his arm. "Don't say that Newt. Don't even think it."
Newt looked at her, his eyes wide and filled with a mix of guilt and frustration. " If something happens to him... if he ends up like Ben... I don't know what we're going to do. I don't know what I'm going to do. We can't lose him like that."
Emma could see how much this was tearing him apart. Newt had always been the calm, level-headed one, but right now, he was at a loss.
"It's not your fault," she said gently, her voice soft but firm. "None of this is your fault, Newt. You couldn't have known what would happen. You did the best you could, and that's all anyone can ask of you."
Newt's jaw clenched as he swallowed hard, the weight of her words settling over him.
He shook his head, his voice breaking slightly as he continued. "I just... I don't know what to do if he ends up like Ben. I want this to be different, but after seeing Ben like that... I'm not so sure anymore."
He looked so lost.
His usual confident demeanor was shattered by the fear of losing another person close to him. Emma couldn't bear to see him like that. Without thinking, she reached out and pulled him into a tight hug.
Newt stiffened at first, but after a second, he relaxed into her embrace, his arms wrapping around her. He held on as if her presence was the only thing grounding him in that moment. Emma could feel the tension in his body, the silent struggle he was fighting to keep it all together.
"You're not alone in this, Newt," she whispered, her cheek resting against his shoulder. "We'll figure it out together. No matter what happens, you don't have to carry this by yourself."
Newt didn't say anything, but his grip tightened slightly, and Emma knew he was listening.
They stood there for a moment longer, the world around them feeling quieter and less overwhelming as they found a small bit of comfort in each other's presence.
The door to the homestead swung open abruptly, and Minho barged in with an urgent expression. His eyes fell on the two of them, his brows raising slightly. He didn't comment, though; he just crossed his arms.
"Hate to interrupt your little heart-to-heart, but everyone's heading to the hall for the meeting. They're ready when you are." Minho explained.
Newt sighed before turning to face him. "Thanks, Minho. I'll be there in a minute," he muttered, his voice sounding heavy with exhaustion.
Minho gave him a sharp nod and shot Emma a glance before turning and heading back out, the door creaking as it swung closed behind him.
Emma reached out and gently touched Newt's arm, offering one last bit of reassurance. "You've got this, Newt." Newt gave her a tired but appreciative smile, though the stress didn't quite leave his face.
Without another word, he turned and headed out to join the others.
Emma stood there for a moment, watching him go before her thoughts turned to Thomas. She walked back toward where the others were and urged the boy to come with her...
-
"The reason we're here is that almost every lovin' kid in the glade has come up to me in the last few hours either boohooing about Thomas or begging for his bloody hand in marriage. So, we need to decide what to do with him" Newt spoke as soon as everyone was settled in.
Gally stood up, wanting to get his opinion out first.
"Things are changing, and there's no denying that," Gally began, his tone heavy with self-importance.
Emma couldn't help but snort quietly at the comment. It was the same opening line he'd used when she first arrived like he couldn't think of anything better to say.
Did he seriously think this was news to anyone? They'd all been feeling the shift for months.
Gally pressed on, oblivious. "We need to remember the note. Maybe some of you don't realize it, but it's happening. First, we get a girl sent up, then Ben gets stung in broad daylight, then Alby meets the same fate, and now our greenie over here has taken it upon himself to run into the maze, a clear violation of our rules."
"He saved Alby, though," Frypan interrupted, trying to make a point.
"Did he?" Gally shot back, not happy with the interruption.
He turned back to the crowd, throwing his hands up in frustration. "He killed a Griever. Last time I checked, no one's ever done that. Survived a whole night in the Maze too. Ever think about what that means?"
Emma couldn't stay quiet any longer. "Exactly. He killed a Griever. Survived the night. You ever think maybe that's something we should be grateful for?"
A few murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd, but Gally wasn't having it. "Yeah, well, last time I checked, you're not a Keeper, so shut up. You've only been here a month, what would you know?"
"More than you apparently," Emma fired back without hesitation, her voice cold.
"Listen here—" Gally started, jabbing a finger toward her.
"Enough!" Newt's voice cut through the tension, stepping forward before things could escalate. He was technically in charge, but unlike Alby, he liked hearing people out before making decisions. He turned to Gally; his tone steady but firm.
"What do you propose we do, Gally?"
"For three years, we have coexisted with these creatures, and now one of them is dead. We've established rules that have now been broken... Who knows what that could mean for us?" Gally pointed a finger at Thomas, who sat silently in the back. "He's not even a greenie anymore; he's just a rule breaker."
"This entire meeting is dumb," Zart said from beside Emma, who nodded in agreement.
"He has to be punished," Gally insisted, and the crowd of gladers erupted into chaos.
"He killed a Griever!" Clint yelled from beside Chuck, and Emma echoed his sentiment in her mind.
Why should someone who defied all odds, escaped the most dangerous place, and killed a Griever be punished?
Zart was the first to speak up for Thomas. "He may have broken one of our most important rules, and we can't just let people think that's okay. But as Gally says, he's changed things. Now we know we can survive out there and that we stand a chance against the Grievers. There's a chance for us to escape!"
Emma nudged Zart with a smile. At least one of the keepers was on Thomas's side.
"I agree with Zart. The kid's got more guts than I've fried from every pig and cow in the last year," Frypan added, earning a few laughs around the room.
"Emma's right. How stupid is this? The boy saves Alby's life and kills a shucking Griever, and we're seriously debating what to do with him? As Chuck would say, this whole meeting is a pile of klunk!" Clint argued, clearly not on board with the meeting's direction.
"So now we're agreeing with a girl? Really Clint?" Gally retorted sarcastically.
"Testing my patience, Gally? Seriously?" Emma shot back, unwilling to take any more of his nonsense. Minho smirked at her response but remained silent, letting the rest of them argue on their own.
"I say we make him part of the council. He could teach us a thing or two about killing Grievers," Frypan suggested.
The crowd erupted into chaos again, voices rising in agreement and protest.
"Enough! Can we have a civilized meeting without everyone speaking at once?" Newt called out, demanding silence.
"Why are we punishing him for doing what everyone here has been trying to do for three years?" Emma argued.
"How many times do we have to tell you, you aren't part of the council? So shut your pie hole already, shuck face!" Gally yelled, clearly annoyed that she was so vocal during a meeting she wasn't meant to be in.
"Settle down, both of you!" Newt interjected, looking at Emma with a pleading expression. She crossed her arms in annoyance, torn between standing up for what was right and respecting Newt's authority.
"I think he should be punished. I mean, yeah, he did something good, but he still broke a rule. If we let him off the hook, what's everyone else going to think?" Winston, the Keeper of the Slicers, pointed out, his tone more matter-of-fact than accusatory.
He glanced at Newt. "Newt, you're always talking about order. If we just let him walk free, it'll set a bad example for the other Gladers. I say we put him in the slammer for a week but keep him well-fed. We're not too cruel."
Most of the Gladers disagreed with Winston's suggestion, but Gally nodded in agreement, his expression smug. Emma rolled her eyes at Gally's arrogance as he stood a few feet away, his face twisted with self-righteousness.
For a moment, she debated whether it would be worth it to slap that smirk off his face, but she knew it wouldn't solve anything.
"Just think about this for a second, Newt," Gally said, gesturing toward Thomas.
"This slinthead comes up in the Box, acting all confused and scared, and not even a few days later, he's running through the Maze and killing Grievers, acting like he owns the place. And let's not forget that he knows the girl, you said it yourself... They're probably plotting something together." Gally added, his voice dripping with bitterness.
"This trial is about Thomas, so stay on topic, Gally, or I swear I'll throw you in the slammer myself," Newt snapped, his voice taking on a commanding tone that reminded Emma of Alby.
"All I'm saying is that this is all an act, I know it. How could he possibly have done what he did out there when he's only been here a handful of days, Newt? I'm not buying it for a second. I think he's a spy from the Creators, and we can't trust him!" Gally's words sent another wave of angry murmurs through the crowd.
"Now he just sounds like he's lost his mind," Zart muttered to Emma, who nodded in agreement.
Of all the wild accusations Gally had thrown around, this one seemed the most far-fetched.
Gally wasn't done, though. "I'm just saying, too many weird things are happening, and it all started the moment we found that note, Newt. I mean, he just happens to be the first person ever to survive a night in the Maze? He shouldn't even know where to run, seeing as he's never been in the Maze before."
"Something isn't right. And until we figure it out, I say we put him in the slammer, no food, just water... at least until everything's settled."
Emma's frustration bubbled over as Gally's conspiracy theories grew wilder, but she held her tongue. Gally's words might have been ridiculous, but the last thing Newt needed was another argument.
"So quit voting me down, Newt. You know I'm right. Maybe if you'd get out of this daze you're in with this stupid girl-" Gally started, but Newt cut him off sharply, refusing to let him continue.
"Enough!" Newt snapped, silencing the room. He turned to Minho, the only Keeper who had remained quiet throughout the debate. "Minho, you were there with him. What do you think?"
All eyes turned to Minho, the tension in the room thick enough to cut.
Minho looked around the room, his expression serious despite the chaos. "I think in all the time we've been here; no one's ever killed a Griever. When I turned tail and ran, this dumb shank stayed behind to help Alby..."
"Look, I don't know if he's brave or just plain stupid, but whatever it is, we need more of it. I say we make him a Runner."
The room erupted into chaos yet again. Minho's suggestion hung in the air, and it took a moment for Frypan to raise his voice above the commotion. "What? Minho let's not jump the gun here," he cautioned, his tone uncertain.
Meanwhile, Chuck started chanting Thomas's name. His voice rang through the air, but when no one joined in, he quickly quieted, exchanging a sheepish glance with Emma.
Minho scoffed, raising his voice over the noise. "It's easy for you shanks to sit here and talk about something none of you have ever been through. You're all too stupid to even know what it's like out there. I'm the only Runner in this group, the only one left, anyway," he added bitterly, gesturing toward Newt.
The words took Emma by surprise, making her blink as the new information hit her.
Newt was a Runner?
He had never mentioned it before, and it was hard to picture him in that role. But as she thought about it, the way he acted, how adamant he was about her not stepping foot inside, how he dreaded even talking about the maze, it all began to make sense.
It explained why he seemed to understand the Maze so deeply and why he seemed haunted whenever the topic came up.
Minho cut through the noise; his voice strong. "None of you have the slightest clue what it's like to be out there. Trust me, I know better than anyone what it takes to be a Runner, and this shank"
He pointed toward Thomas.
"Has everything it takes. He didn't panic, he didn't whine, he didn't cry. Instead, he survived a night in the Maze, and he saved two shanks' lives, including mine. And all this klunk about breaking a rule? It's exactly that... a pile of klunk."
Minho's eyes swept over the crowd as he spoke. "Thomas risked his own life. He ran into the Maze to save Alby, and he succeeded. Not only that, he saw me give up on Alby, but he didn't follow after me. No, he stayed, made sure Alby was safe enough, then ran to find me, to make sure I was safe too. And to top it all off, he killed a Griever. For crying out loud, he should be a Runner... hell, he should be the Keeper of the Runners."
Minho's words left the room buzzing with mixed reactions. Voices rose in every direction, some in support, others in protest, turning the meeting into a cacophony once more.
"If you guys want to throw the newbie a parade, that's fine," Gally snapped, crossing his arms defiantly. "But if there's anything I know about the Maze—"
"Which is literally nothing," Emma interrupted, her voice cutting through the noise like a knife.
Gally's face twisted with anger, and he lunged toward Emma. "That's it, you shuck face!" he shouted, but before he could get to her, Thomas and Minho grabbed him, holding him back.
"Get off me!" Gally shouted, struggling in their grip before finally pulling away.
Then he stormed toward Newt, his face red with rage. He jabbed a finger at him. "If you let this dumb excuse of a shank be a Runner, then you're no better than him, Newt. You should be banished for your embarrassing inability to lead. And if you think for one second that the girl is innocent, then you're even stupider than I thought. You're shameful. Even Alby would be disappointed in what you've become."
Newt stood firm, his expression cold and unmoved by Gally's rant. "Are you done?" he asked, his voice bored, as if he were already tired of the argument.
Gally's fists clenched, his face contorting with frustration. "No, I won't be done until justice is served. How many more Gladers are going to get stung before you reali-"
Suddenly, Gally's words were cut short as a loud, blaring alarm rang out, echoing through the Glade. The sound was harsh, slicing through the argument like a knife. The room went silent, the tension now replaced with a new kind of dread.
Every Glader froze, turning toward the source of the alarm. Emma felt a shiver run down her spine.
Thomas furrowed his brow as he heard the alarm blaring, his voice barely audible over the clamor. "What is that? Where have I heard that sound before?"
"It's the Box. It's coming back up," Chuck explained, his face pale with confusion.
Emma's eyes widened, and she shook her head, her mind racing. "It shouldn't be," she muttered, her heart pounding as she hurried after Minho, weaving through the mass of Gladers toward the Box.
Newt leaned over the edge of the shaft, his face set with tension, his hands gripping the edge tightly. Frypan's voice rose from behind, laced with urgency. "Newt, what do you see?"
Before Newt could respond, Thomas pushed his way through the crowd, stopping beside Emma as they reached the edge. He glanced down into the shaft, his breath catching in his throat as he registered what was inside.
"It's a girl..." Newt's voice came out hoarse with disbelief, echoing the stunned murmurs that spread through the crowd.