Murder In The Maze (Maze Runner Fanfiction)

Chapter 29: Executioner

     Immediately, the room quiets.  The noise and chatter that was prominent moments ago dissipate as the door swings open, creaking on its hinges.

     Alby enters the room, his foot trailing behind him as he limps to his seat.  His eyes stay glued to his destination.  Alby's knuckles bleed white, curling into tight fists that suppress a slight tremor.  In a hushed tone, Frypan whispers to me, "Get to your seat."

     Almost instantly the Keepers flood to their assigned seats: Alby in the centre with the rest forming a semicircle around him.  I head to my seat, located at the far right of the circle.

     A strange sensation washes over me, a warm sense of pride swelling in my chest.  Raising my head high, I straighten my back, perfecting my posture.  A glow of importance flushes to my cheeks as the affirmation of becoming a Keeper hits.

     My gaze drifts across the room, landing on the empty seat beside Alby.  In one swift moment, my mood dampens once again as my mind drags back to Newt - the reason we are here.  I scurry to my seat, followed by the rest of the Keepers.

     "Winston..." Alby pauses, clearing his throat, "...you'll open up this meeting, tell us all what's going on."

     "Well, uh, Bill found the letter, said it was lying around the Glade or something, he opened it up.  What's more to say?" Winston questions, shrugging his shoulders.

     Minho scoffs, shaking his head. "What a slinthead."

     "Silence!" Alby snaps, slamming his hand on the table in front.  Taking a deep breath, he continues, "What letter?"

     "This one," Winston states, pulling a tattered piece of paper from inside his jacket.

     "What does it say?" another Keeper inquires.

     Winston haphazardly unfolds the paper, ripping it at the corner.  "Newt...one more, that was the deal, then you get out, but not before.  You almost got caught with the last one, maybe you should have.  No more mistakes, no more excuses.  Another death, then you will get your freedom."

     Murmurs erupt from the gathering, shouts of confusion echoing around me.

     "Shut up!" Alby bellows as his voice ricochets through the room, "hold your silence!"

     Alby's eyes turn to each member, then to Winston.  "We banished Nick, and I'll be thrown in that Maze again before I accuse Newt without fair proof.  Is this all?"

     "This is preposterous!" I state, failing my arms into the air, "anyone could have sent that letter and wrote 'Newt' on the front."

     "It's not the only proof," Winston growls, "I checked.  The rope used on the bodies' is the same as in the garden shed where Newt works."

     Minho stands up from his chair, his nostrils flared. "Anyone could have taken that!"

     "Besides," I continue, "The shoeprints I found at the last...body were runner's shoes.  Newt stopped running months ago."

     An unfamiliar voice interrupts, "Any Keeper can take a pair of those shoes, not just runners.  Newt is still a Keeper."

     "Have you seen Newt lately?  I cross my arms.  "He can barely lift a bucket of water over his head, never mind a body."

     Winston laughs dryly, rising from his seat.  "What do you want, Tanya, a signed confession?  He had the rope, shoes, and the letter.  Newt was there when Nick was banished, all to cover his tracks.  It's pretty clear to me who the real killer is.  Maybe, you're letting your friendship cloud your judgement!"

     "Stop it!" Alby screams in a raw voice, "sit back down!"

     Winston huffs, curling his lower lip disdainfully.  After a brief moment, he returns to his seat.

     Alby's harsh expression softens, his eyes falling wearily to the floor.  "Does anyone have any suggestions?"

     "Guys, I just think that--" Frypan stutters, "We don't know if there's even a killer anymore.  Maybe we should just let Newt go and wait and see."

     Winston bolts up from his seat.  "Wait and see?  We can't risk losing anyone else.  No more gladers should have to die!" 

     "Newt is a glader, you stupid shank," Minho retorts.

     Winston ignores Minho, turning to face Alby. "I say we banish him."

     Gasps of horror and shock spread through the room.  Fiery anger boils in my veins, pumping furiously.  Hot blood drains from my face.  My hands tremble as I clench them into fists.  My legs thrust my body off the chair, forcing it to fly back and crash onto the floor.  Taking a strained breath, I grit my teeth together.  "No."

     Minho points his finger accusingly at Winston.  "You backstabbing, little--"

     "We c-can't," Frypan blurts out.

     Another unfamiliar voice interjects, "Why not?"

     "It doesn't feel right," Zart interrupts, bowing his head, "but we don't have any other option.  The risk is too much."

     "He's right," Alby's voice pierces through the room. His eyes grow weary and his face turns sour. "Newt's my f-friend but," he takes a deep breath, clearing his throat, "I don't want this, but there's no choice here, not this time.  The rope, footprint, then the note--it's undeniable, even for me.  We have to think of the safety of everyone."

     "You can't banish him!" I protest, "after everything Newt's done for you, all of you.  All your proof could have been faked, you know it, and I know it."

     Alby rubs his head as he turns to me.  After a brief moment of silence, he nods his head. "Three days, you have three days to prove he didn't do it, or you know what happens.  We'll convene again at noon after that time.  This meeting is now finished."

     Reluctantly, the crowd disperses, each Glader leaving one by one, vacating the room.  Minho stays in his seat with his eyes glued to the floor.

     A wave of fear washes over me, tugging at my gut.  "What am I supposed to do?" I mutter under my breath, not expecting an answer.

     Turning my focus to Minho, I let out a deep sigh.  "We'll figure out a way."

     "Will we?" he grunts, his face remaining stationary.

     I continue, "We have to."