Till The WICKED End | A Maze Runner Story (English Version)

12. One last look

"I'm so sorry," Gally whispered.
I squeezed him a little tighter. "It's not your fault, you -"
But I didn't get any further than that, because the person I least expected stepped up and interrupted me.
"You weren't yourself. It's not your fault," Thomas said.
Gally and I both looked at him in surprise.
"I wanted to kill you, man..."
"Well, I've tried to kill you a few times, too." Thomas shrugged his shoulders as if there was nothing to it.
"Only, unfortunately, he never had a gun. Nobody's perfect, remember Gally? Those were your words," Minho said, smiling slightly while at the same time looking distressed at the spot where Chuck had died. "Come on, we should spend as little time here as possible. This is not a good place."
"He's right. I'll hack into the system. It's going to take time. Do what you think is right, the doors are all open and Grievers haven't been around since no one was piloting them."
Francesca by now had settled down in her old chair - my old chair. Brenda had joined her and was watching what she was doing.
"It's okay, we'll hold down the fort here," Jorge said, sitting down on a swivel chair and resting one leg on his knee.
I looked into the eyes of the Gladers around me. Minho, Fry Pan and Gally nodded, the latter still staring at the linoleum in front of us. Lastly, I looked at Thomas and he too nodded. Their approval gave me renewed courage and I turned toward the hallway we had come through a seeming eternity ago, after leaving the Maze behind.
We crossed it and I opened the door that led to the cold corridor. There we turned to the right and followed it until we found the entrance to the Griever's Cave, through which we had once escaped.
Fry Pan put his hand on the handle and pushed it down. The door opened with a squeak and Thomas stepped through first, just as he had then, only this time we were going in, not out. We followed him into the darkness, which this time was not as dark as the first time, because the hole to the Maze that had closed behind us was open a bit. Wide enough that we could fit through it - that even Gally could fit through it.
One by one we climbed into the Maze we had so desperately wanted to escape from, and the smell that hit my nostrils was a mixture of Griever slush and something else - the smell of home.
I had never realized that the Maze had had such a strong smell of its own, but now I realized that this smell reminded me of my time out here, of my home - and of Minho. So I couldn't help but reach for his hand as we made our way between the Griever corpses.
The scent of concrete, heated by the sun, accompanied us as we made our way through the Maze - along the same path we had taken when we fled. The walls rose on either side of us and didn't seem quite so intimidating now that they had lost the magic they had had from the fact that a Griever could come around the next corner at any time.
I found that Minho and I, still hand in hand, still knew the way to the Glade in our sleep and didn't have to think about where to turn at a single point. With Fry Pan and Gally in tow, we were nowhere near as fast as we were with Thomas alone, but we were still making pretty good progress and now didn't have far to go before we would reach our destination.
As we turned the last corner, where we had all left together, where Minho and I had desperately tried to get Alby out, where Thomas had rushed to help us, I felt a tingle in my stomach, a mixture of anticipation and fear.
And there I saw it, our Glade. We quickened our steps a little more, like children who couldn't wait to see a very special spectacle. Almost running, we reached the grass, which was now more than waist high, but also yellow from the devastating sun. That was the first thing I noticed and that startled me. But it did not stop there. As I let my gaze roam over the Glade, my breath nearly caught. I let go of Minho's hand and looked at the debris field we had left behind when we had left. But it was even worse than I had thought. Through the withered grass, our Glade looked more desolate than ever, the buildings that the fire hadn't destroyed had collapsed, and nothing reminded of the time when this had been our home.
I couldn't help but sob in horror and fall to my knees. What had I expected? That by magic everything had been rebuilt, the lawn mowed and the fields tilled? That Fry Pan would be right there in the kitchen cooking us his stew? That Newt, Chuck and Alby would be around the corner and we'd be sitting around the fire laughing with the other Gladers tonight?
It took me a little while to regain my composure. The others had left me alone, so they were busy enough with their own feelings, only Thomas stood next to me and showed me by a hand on my shoulder that he was there. Eventually I managed to stir again and take my eyes off the remains of my old hut. I looked around at my friends and realized that Minho, Gally and Fry Pan were standing in front of the wall on which we had carved our names a seemingly eternity ago. My best friend was just crossing out names. I slowly got up and walked over to them with Thomas.
Gally had added Teresa's name and crossed out everyone who had died except for those who had made it out of the maze, which had been just us, her, Newt, Winston and Jack. He hadn't crossed out Chuck's name either.
"We thought we'd pay tribute to those who perished here, on my campaign after you, in the Maze with the Grievers. But the others who died fighting WICKED, out there, they stay here. Forever," Gally explained quietly.
I nodded. We watched him cross out the last name - Jeff - then Minho carefully took the hammer and chisel from his hand and stepped back. He nodded, turned, toward the gate we had come through. Slowly he walked over and we silently followed him.
He set down, against the wall right next to the entrance.
The last Gladers, he wrote.
Then he set down and wrote his name. When he was finished, he handed me the utensils. Carefully I carved my name into the stone and then handed his tool back to Gally. He passed it to Fry Pan when he was done, and he passed it to Thomas.
We stepped back and looked at our work, then took one last look around our Glade before leaving. It was time to put this behind us, we knew that without anyone having to say it. It was getting late, the light already announcing the evening.
Slowly we turned around and started our way back.
Just before we turned the corner I looked back, looked at my home one last time. And that's when I saw it. Without meaning to, I felt a tear run down my cheek and had to smile at the same time.
Just then the sun disappeared behind the wall.