𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓑𝓻𝓾𝓲𝓼𝓮𝓭 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓑𝓻𝓸𝓴𝓮𝓷 - ᴀ ᴍᴀᴢᴇ ʀᴜɴɴᴇʀ ꜰᴀɴꜰɪᴄ

Chapter Eleven - Addy

Thomas comes to fetch me after a few hours for dinner. I'm not hungry, my stomach is still tied in knots, but I follow him anyway.

I take a seat next to Chuck who clearly has heard about the incident from earlier and acts very awkwardly. The meal is eaten in silence, Thomas and Chuck the only others present at our table.

"Where's Newt?" I ask after a while.

Thomas looks around without saying anything.

"I think he's still at the wall waiting for Minho and Alby," Chuck tells me.

I'd forgotten that they'd gone outside of the Glade. "They aren't back yet?" I question. It shouldn't have taken them this long. They'd been out the whole day.

"Guess not. It's getting late too. The Doors will close soon."

I finish my food and make my way over to the Doors. Sure enough, Newt paces the length of the opening, running a hand through his golden hair.

"They're still not back yet?" I ask as I approach him from behind.

Newt jumps a little and spins around. "Oh! Addy! You feeling better?"

"Er, yeah. I'm fine." I rub my arm awkwardly. "The cookies are burned to a crisp though." I force a chuckle at my own joke, but the boy is preoccupied and doesn't register it.

"Good that." Newt nods but his attention falls back to the Maze and he shakes his head. "They should be back by now!" He sighs.

A few other boys linger nearby and I recognize a few as other Runners. It must be really close to the time that the Doors close. I hadn't realized the severity of the situation until now. Newt glances at his watch anxiously. I want to tell him not to worry and that everything will be alright, but I don't know if the words will prove true so I settle for, "There's still time. They can make it."

Newt nods, appreciating the effort at comforting him, but obviously doesn't agree. "Where are they?"

"Why don't you send out a search party?" Thomas and Chuck approach us, scaring me half to death.

"Bloody he-" Newt exclaims. I'm not the only one startled by their quiet arrival. Newt pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a moment. "We can't. Okay? Don't say it again. One hundred percent against the rules. Especially with the buggin' Doors about to close."

"But-" Tommy persists but I stomp on his foot, shooting him a glance with my head tilted.

"He said no," I hiss. "Leave him alone." Newt's obviously not taking this well and even though my curiosity is as fierce as my brother's, I can't have Tommy upsetting the poor boy more.

Newt sighs, my attempt at whispering failed to conceal the conversation from his ears. "It's ok. We just can't go out there at night. It's begging for death. We'd just be throwing more lives away. If those shanks don't make it back..."

"Newt won't say it so I will," Chuck pipes up grimly. "If they're not back, it means they're dead. Minho's too smart to get lost. Impossible. They're dead."

I bite my lip nervously. I didn't know the boys well but that doesn't mean I'm happy to see them dead.

"The shank's right." Newt's voice is laced in mournful solemnity. "That's why we can't go out. We can't afford to make things bloody worse than they already are." Tears well up in Newt's eyes as he begins mourning. I respect him for not being afraid to show weakness and ruin his masculinity like most guys. Gosh Addy, I think. Why is that what you're focused on right now? Now is not the time!

A grinding boom resounds through the Glade. It's too late. The Doors are closing. The small group begins to turn away, having lost hope for the missing Gladers. I follow, tears creeping into my own eyes. Death, no matter who's it is, summons my grief, but I knew Minho in my old life well enough to consider him important.

As we trudge solemnly towards the Homestead, Thomas calls out urgently, "Newt! They're coming! I can see them!"

Everyone whirls around and Newt runs as fast as he can back to where Thomas stands in awe. Sure enough, Minho hobbles as quickly as he can towards the Glade practically dragging Alby along with him.

The Gladers shout encouragement to Minho, but the strain is obvious on the boy's face. They're still so far. I want to run out and help but the Doors are practically closed. There's no way they'll both make it. They're so close. I can't watch. I turn my head, tears falling down my face.

"Don't do it Tommy! Don't bloody do it!" Newt screams. I whirl around at the mention of my brother, throwing my arms out in attempt to catch him, but he slides out of my grip and bolts into the Maze to help.

"No!" I shriek, but my scream is drowned out by the resounding slam as the Doors seal the three boys outside. "Tommy!" Suddenly, I can move and find myself at the closed Door, slumped against the stone and pounding my fists angrily. "No." My voice is weak. That's it. They're gone. All of them.

---

By the time I've cried all the tears left inside my body and drifted to sleep, Newt is the only Glader remaining at the Door with me. He himself has shed quite a few words, with a significant amount of swearing mixed in, and drifted to sleep in the cold grass.

My dreams are strange. Mangled. Nightmarish visions of my brother dying a variety of horrific deaths intermix with snippets of myself trapped in the Maze and being chased by Grievers. Suddenly, the dreams stop and are replaced by a memory that forces it's way out of the cage inside my mind.

A young version of myself sits next to a small blond girl. She smiles bravely and hugs me. We huddle in the darkness of a large shared dorm room, filled with dozens of sleeping girls, and patiently wait for something, or someone.

A soft knock of knuckles against glass sends our heads turning. We scramble of the bed and quietly pad over to the window. Three faces peer back at us. The girl grins at her brother and I grin at mine. Minho grins at us both in a mocking, but friendly, manner.

I point at the door, silently telling the boys that we would come out. They smile and nod, making their way to the door as well. The heavy metal door creaks open and we slip out, immediately pulling the boys into a hug.

"I missed you," my friend says to Newt, who's eyes are glistening with tears. He nods, burying his head in her hair. The clumping of heavy footsteps interrupts the precious moment.

"Come on!" Minho pulls us down the hall away from the approaching person. "We've gotta go!"

The boys lead us to a small closet where we sit anxiously, waiting for the guards to pass. We're not so lucky. The door is thrown open.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" The guard has a wicked grin on his face. "You boys never learn, do you?"

Minho glares. "I'm not scared of you!"

"So it seems," the guard says. "I guess we'll have to teach you a lesson a different way." Instead of grabbing the boys and beating them like we all expected, and feared, the man takes Newt's sister and I and yanks us into the hall by the arms.

"No! Don't touch them!" The boys try to help us, but the man's companions come into view and restrain them.

Everything becomes pain and screaming from the point as the guard's hand connects with my flesh. The other girl writhes in pain next to me and I cry for her as well.

The boys are screaming and fighting, Newt the loudest and most determined.

"Do it again," the guard commands, "and you're not going to get off so easily, boys! No one is going to miss two little girls."