Into The WICKED Maze | A Maze Runner Story (English Version)

37. Gratitude

Can these things smell? Oh God, can they climb?!
The fear that had ruled me the last time, months ago, when Minho had saved my life, spread through me again and threatened to overwhelm me, and I pressed myself even closer to him - if that was even possible.
Why was I actually doing this? Why did I run into this maze every day and run the risk of being stung or killed? So that Nick could go to sleep at night with a clear conscience and continue to believe in an exit that would get him out of here if a Griever didn't catch him on the way?
What did the others actually believe? That those who had brought us here, the Creators, were good? Would someone who meant well for us lock us in a trap with such things?
All this went through my mind as I hung in the ivy, everything I had wrapped around Minho, waiting to die. But nothing happened. At some point the Griever stopped making those snuffling noises and we could hear him slowly disappearing until he seemed to turn a corner and his footsteps became quieter and quieter.
Still, we hung on up there for half an eternity until my legs ached because I still had them wrapped around Minho's waist in full tension. But I still didn't detach myself from him, I waited until someone said something, suggested that we should leave our hiding place again. But no one said anything, apparently they were waiting for one of us to say something.
"Okay, I think he's really gone. Shall we go back down?" asked Minho quietly in my ear at some point, as he was apparently also still afraid of attracting the Griever if he spoke louder.
I nodded and finally loosened my muscles, which complained loudly as soon as I moved them. I reached into the vines and lowered myself as far as I could before letting go and dropping to the ground, where I landed on my feet. Minho also landed on his feet just seconds after me, then Ben, Alex and Jackson. Lastly, Tim dropped down to us, not landing on his feet like the others, but stumbling as he came up and falling on his backside.
At that moment, all tension fell away from us and we let out a snort. More hysterically than really because we found it funny, but at least we were making noises again. We laughed and laughed and I had to brace myself on my knees because my ribs hurt. Even though it had been a long time since they were broken, sometimes they still hurt.
Just like my neck, which was essentially completely as new. Only in some situations, when I shouted particularly loudly or laughed or something similar, did it still hurt a little. I had kept to myself not to speak, as Clint had told me, but still the whole thing was not one hundred percent healed.
When we had calmed down, Ben helped the still laughing Tim to his feet and we decided - now more carefully - to continue running.
Nothing happened until early evening. We had taken a break and eaten at lunchtime, otherwise we had searched section 5 for what felt like the hundredth time for any indication of an exit, but - of course - found nothing.
The mood was accordingly as we made our way back to the glade. The only thing that lifted the spirits of our runners was the fact that a new fresher had arrived. Minho and I, on the other hand, had not been interested in the Greenbeans for a long time. They only became interesting to us when they were fast and even then I wished every time that they weren't, because I was far too afraid that they might get stung.
When I thought about how close it had been today, everything still tightened inside me. If anything had happened to even one of us, I would never have forgiven myself. Every time we got into a sticky situation, I vowed to talk to Nick, to persuade him to stop sending us into the maze and realise there was no way out, but secretly I knew he wouldn't listen to me anyway.
We reached the glade and split up. Alex, Jackson and Tim headed for Fry Pan, Minho and Ben went into the woods to disappear into our hut, I knew, and I looked for Newt.
I found him by the fields, where he was still planting something. Silently, I sat down next to him and watched him do it so as not to interrupt him. But it wasn't long before he stopped, put the things aside and spread his arms to greet me. Immediately I stood up and hugged him, closing my eyes and soaking up his wonderful smell. It felt good to be with him and I felt all the tension immediately fall away from me.
"How was your day?" he asked me after kissing me several times.
"Strange. We had to hide from a Griever." I tried to sound cool, but he could tell immediately that I was anything but calm at the thought.
"What happened?"
Immediately he broke away from me a little and looked down at me.
"We noticed him far too late. By the time Minho heard him, it was too late to run. I saw no other way out but to hide in the ivy. So we climbed up, one after the other. In between I thought we weren't going to make it and just as Minho had pulled me up to him, this thing came around the corner."
"Did you see him?" Now Newt looked at me with wide eyes.
I shook my head. "There was barely time to hold on to the ivy, so I clung to Minho with everything I had. My face was hidden, I couldn't see him, but believe me, I didn't want to. I was far too scared that I would scream or fall down if I saw what that thing looked like. All I know is that it took an awfully long time for it to disappear. It was almost like it was sniffing, like it smelled us..."
"Thank God nothing happened to you," breathed Newt, now back at my ear.
"And again Minho saved me," I muttered, because I realised again what would have happened if he hadn't held me. I would probably have fallen right at the Griever's feet.
"I really owe him one now."
I had to smile when Newt said that and was about to retort something, but he interrupted me by kissing me.