Murder In The Maze (Maze Runner Fanfiction)

Chapter 36: The Gathering

     A blanket of silence smothers the room.  No voice rises to speak.  Even Winston is taken back by the statement, his face void of expression.  After a long moment, Gally continues, "No question: it was him.  The real problem is what we do about it.  Shanks'll notice Alby's not around soon enough; then we got trouble."

     "Hold on," Winston outstretches his hand, "No question it was him?  I have questions.  You're insane if you think you can take him away and come here wh--"

     Zart  interrupts him, pausing his endless spiel, "Let's just ask the first question: how do you know?"

     "I told you, he tried to kill Tanya."

     All eyes in the room shift to me, staring intently.  After a brief moment, Zart's shaky voice breaks the silence, "He may have hurt Tanya, but it doesn't make him a serial killer.  That's what we said about Nick, then Newt.  We need to be sure this time.  Did he kill all those people?"

     "Bring Alby here!" Winston exclaims, "let us talk to him and see what he has to say.  I think--"

     "Shut up!" Gally snaps, "No one cares what you think, Winston.  You can talk to him after."

      "After what?" a voice inquires.

     Gally takes a deep breath.  "After I've said the other reason we're here."

     Winston's face distorts, seething with rage and disgust.  Through gritted teeth, he snarkily continues, "What could possibly be so important?"

     "Thomas, that new shank, woke up," he states plainly.  "I don't trust him, but he said he remembered things, important things."

     "Like what?" Winston adds, flailing his hands into the air.

     "He said he used to work for whoever put us here."

     "He knows the way out..." I interject, "...of the Maze."

     Instantly, chatter floods the room.  The Keepers break out in awe, protest, or confusion, babbling over themselves.  The indistinct noise sends a mild pain pulsating through my brain.  Despite the interruption, I proceed with my statement, "He hasn't told me yet, but he said he used to work for 'WICKED,' the people who put us here-in the Maze. Somehow he woke up from the coma, I'm not sure--"

     Another voice interjects, "Can we believe him?"

     "Of course not," Winston adds, "he's lying, trying to confuse us, but I'm not so easily swayed! If the Creators sent him, we should use that - use him - to our advantage."

     "Thomas might be confused after the coma. There's still a lot we don't know about that," I continue, "I doubt the Creators planned on him coming here, and if so, why would he tell us?"

     "Maybe he's telling the truth," another voice states.

     "Nevermind the truth!" Winston pipes up. "With the accusations against Alby and the information about Thomas, what is to be done about it all? Once the Glade finds out that Alby's gone, it'll be mayhem. No-one will stay if there could be a way out, no matter the danger!"

     Before anyone else can speak, a blaring alarm shrieks around us, echoing off the walls. The signal of a new arrival continues, boring through my ears. Confused murmurings sound through the room. Frypan scratches his head.  "Is it time for another Greenie?"

     "I'll check it out," Gally responds.  Reluctantly, some of the Keepers shuffle off of their seats after him.  The small crowd begins exiting the room towards the elevator.  Winston and a handful of others stay, unwilling to follow.  Slipping off my seat, I head out the door, curious as to the new arrival.

     The midday sun stabs my eyes in contrast to the darker Homestead. The cool wind carries a distinct stench of sweat and dirt my way as I pinch my nose in disdain.  After a few minutes of walking, we approach the elevator.

     The chains chaff together; the metal shrills as a chill runs up my spine. The alarm stops. Utter silence ensues from the Gladers as the lift jars to a stop. Two of them step forward, unlocking the doors. The doors swing open and light floods into the cage below. No one is in the box - it's empty.

     There's nothing - no supplies - in the box. Gripping onto the metal sides, I jump inside, sending the cage rattling. A strange sensation of dread falls over me almost immediately as I examine the box. My mind drags back to when I first arrived - the darkness and fear that once surrounded me. Memories surge through my mind of the first day, like a lifetime ago. I shrug it off, turning my attention back to the elevator.

     In the centre of the box lies a folded piece of paper, mere inches in size. The word 'Teresa' is written neatly on the front. I peel back the paper, careful not to damage it. Eight numbers are on the inside: seven, one, five, two, six, four, eight, and three.

     "What is it?" Teresa asks.

     "It's a letter..." I pause, "...for you."

     Another voice chirps in, "What does it say?"

     "It's numbers: seven, one, five, two, six, four, eight, and then three."  I face Teresa.  "What does it mean?"

     "Why would I know?" she retorts, curling her shoulders up.  Her brow creases.  "It could be anything, or nothing."

     She reaches for the note and begins reading it intently. Teresa mouths the numbers to herself, repeating them over and over.

     A piercing wail cuts through the air, silencing the people. A Griever's cry continues, then another, and another. Immediately, I climb out of the box. The Runners pour through the open gates, first a few, then more. Then sprint over to the group and Minho. Through ragged breaths, Ben begins to speak, "T--There's Grievers, all through the Maze, loads of them. I've never seen so many out in daylight.  They're close, too close."

     "What if they come here?" Maximus questions.

     Gally appears out of the crowd.  "Look, they've never come inside those walls before; they ain't gonna start now."

     "And if they do?" Maximus continues.

     "If they come through those gates," I interject, "then we're all dead."