Abused ≫ Newt [2]

Chapter 16.

"You two are the shuckiest shuck-faced shucks I have ever seen," Minho paced back and forth, running his hands through his hair several times a second. "Are you asking for a death wish? You guys practically just committed suicide!" He suddenly stopped pacing, turning his gaze on to Emily. "And you... Emily, do you have any idea how devastated Newt must be right now? He already lost you to the Maze once- how could you do this to him?"
Emily was taken aback at first, realization flooding over her like a tidal wave. Newt. She could hear his screams of protest in her mind, begging her to come back. She squeezed her eyes shut, attempting to block out his voice. She began to feel tears well up in her eyes. What Minho said was correct. How could she do this to him?
"I-I-I," she fought for words, blinking away the tears that had not already fell.
"I-I," Minho mocked her, rolling his eyes. "I swear, Emily, if we don't die tonight, I am going to kill you."
Good, I deserve it, she thought to herself. How could she put Newt through that pain again? How could she be so stupid?
She opened her eyes, memories of the night she was Banished rushing back to her as she stared around her. She swore to herself that she would never set foot in the Maze ever again, but here she was, in the Maze. At night.
Newt, I'm sorry... I'm so sorry...
She blinked her eyes once more, wiping away her tears.
I can't believe you did that, Emily. How could you be so stupid? How could you leave me...
She could've sworn she heard his voice in her head. As if he were really there, right beside her. As if he were really talking to her.
"Emily's survived a night before," Thomas's voice brought her out of her thoughts. "Who says she won't be able to do it again."
That was when I had your voice to guide me, shuck-face.
"Who says she will?" Minho retorted matter-of-factly. "Tell you what, if Emily finds out a way to survive a night in the Maze again, I'll do whatever you want me to for a week."
"Oh, so now you're betting on me?" Emily spoke up for the first time, crossing her arms in annoyance. They were in a life threatening situation, and yet they were making bets.
"Fine," Thomas said and nodded. He glanced at Emily with a small smile. "I know she can do it."
Shuck you, slinthead.
Thomas suddenly knelt down beside Alby, running his finger over the unconscious leader's sweat covered forehead, "What happened to him?"
"Let's just say Grievers can play dead real well," Minho muttered as he slid down the cracked wall of the Maze. He let out a sigh of defeat, burying his face into his knees. "We are so dead. I never wanted to die like this..."
Emily slid down next to him, rubbing his back, "Wouldn't kill ya to have a little hope, Minho. Remember, I survived. I'm the shit, I'll help you through it."
Not even five minutes ago, she was complaining of them messing around, but here she was, making jokes.
Minho suddenly sat up and turned to look at her. She had never seen him look so serious, and it surprised her a bit at first.
"How'd you do it?"
Emily hesitated. There was no way she could tell him about Thomas's voice in her mind begging her to go on. He'd think she was insane for sure.
"I-uh... I," she paused, rubbed the thin layer of sweat from her forehead. "I just kept thinking of Newt. He kept me going. I kept thinking of the look on his face if he saw me walk through those doors the next morning. It helped- for the most part."
It was not exactly a lie- she did imagine Newt's face. She just left out the biggest part.
"Well, I guess we all have to imagine Newt's face, then. He seems to be the motivation at the moment," Minho laughed, though there was no humor behind it. He looked up at the sky, which was tinted a fiery orange from the setting sun. "It won't be long now."
"We need to get away from here," Emily said. "If the Grievers decide to come down this way, we'd be trapped. We need to get somewhere where we can at least have a fighting chance. We can't loose hope."
Thomas nodded in agreement, though Minho only murmured a quiet "good that". The Runner stood up, running his hands through his hair.
"Alright, Green Bean, are you up for helping me carry an unconscious, muscular boy?" Thomas shrugged and nodded. Minho then turned to Emily, "You lead the way, Em. We're counting on your knowledge."
Emily stood up, feeling a sudden surge of energy run through her veins. She looked around her, trying to decide which route would be the best to take, while Minho helped Thomas lift Alby. Their lives- all four of them- depended on her, rested in the palm of her hand. Minho put her in charge, despite him having much more experience. It was all on her. If they died tonight, it would be because she led them in the wrong direction.
And if they lived, it would be because of her.
That was enough motivation to keep her going. Her life, she did not care about, except for maybe getting to see Newt one last time, apologize. But other than that, her life did not matter. It was Minho's, Thomas's, and Alby's lives that mattered. And she was going to save them, no matter what.
She finally decided on taking a right at the end of the corridor. She turned around and looked at her companions. Alby was resting in between Thomas's and Minho's shoulders, his head slumped awkwardly to the side. They seemed to be struggling, but Minho waved an arm as if signaling for her to go on.
"Alright, are you ready?" she asked as she turned back around. Her legs were shaking. Whether with adrenaline or fear, she did not know.
"Ready as I'll ever be," Minho muttered at the same Thomas said, "Go ahead, Em."
Emily began leading them towards the end of the long corridor. The sun had nearly set- it was no longer visible over the towering walls. The sky was beginning to turn purple, stars beginning to appear in the growing darkness. It was only a matter of time before the Grievers were released for the night. It could be minutes, or it could be hours. She did not know for sure.
Emily led them down to the end of the corridor and went to turn right. She paused as Minho's voice echoed off the stone walls.
"Don't go down there," he said quickly. His breath came in quick gasps, as if he were already struggling to breath. "It's a dead end. Go left."
Emily nodded and turned left instead. She remembered the majority of the route she took the night she was Banished. Right, right, left, right, left, left...
It led her to a crevice in the wall, big enough to hide someone in. They could have squeezed Alby in there, keep him safe for just a while longer. It was not a dead end when she went down there, so why would it be now?
But then she remembered what Newt had told her, one of her first nights in the Glade. He said the Maze changed every night. So of course it wouldn't be the same route as before.
Yup, she said to herself. We're screwed.
But she still did but give up hope. She led them through the darkening Maze with only her instinct and good intentions. She just hoped it was enough. She just hoped that she would not lead them into the claws and snapping teeth of a Griever.
The sounds of Minho's and Thomas's grunts of effort echoed throughout the night air. The temperature had cooled drastically, and Emily shivered as a breeze blew across her bare arms. But she knew she wouldn't be cold for long. Before long, she would be running for her life. That would surely warm her blood up.
"Okay, okay," Thomas grunted from behind her. "I need to take a break."
"Set him down, set him down," Minho said. Emily stopped walking, turned around to see the two boys leaning Alby against the wall. The boy slumped awkwardly to the side, his head lolling forward. She noticed something sticking out from behind him. She walked forward, realizing that the thing was a bow and a quiver of arrows. She quickly slid the weapon off of Alby, admiring the bow.
She had never used one in her life, but there's a right time for everything, right?
She jumped as an all-too familiar, dreadful sound roared throughout the Maze. A mechanical screech that made her blood run cold. If she didn't feel any fear before, she did now. She was terrified. Memories of her night in the Maze came rushing back at her, and she almost started crying. Almost.
She had to stay strong. Minho, Thomas and Alby depended on her.
"We have to go," Minho was pacing back and forth again. Thomas stood awkwardly by him, his eyes wide and full of panic as he stared around him.
Another screech drowned out Minho's panicked voice, echoing off the walls as if it were coming from anyway and everywhere at once.
"We can not just leave him here," Thomas said, motioning towards the unconscious Alby leaning against the wall.
Minho groaned, began pacing back and forth for the thousandth time that night. "He will only slow us down. It's not like he's going to survive the night anyway. He won't get the Serum in time. He will be dead before sunrise."
"Come on, man," Thomas said. "There's no place we can hide him?"
Minho let out a frustrated sigh, turning around and grabbing Thomas by his shoulders, "Listen to me, shuck-face. Look around you, there's no where to go. Unless Emily can think of a magical way to survive the night once again, we're all as good as dead."
Thomas groaned, wiping a layer of wetness from his cheeks. Whether it was tears or just sweat, Emily did not know. Perhaps it was a mixture of both.
"Quit your crying, man. You should have followed the rules and stayed inside," Minho said. He turned to Emily, his eyes soft and filled with fear. "Ah, man. Oh, man." He slid to the ground, buried his face into his hands. "I've never been this scared before, Emily. Not like this."
"Hey," Emily crumpled down next to her friend. "Don't give up, Minho. We have a small chance of surviving. It has happened before, just remember that. Don't give up now."
Minho closed his eyes for a brief moment, wiping a freshly fallen tear before standing to his feet, "You're right. I need to stop being a little girl-" his eyes widened as she raised an eyebrow at him. "No offense, Em. You're the toughest person I know. A lot more tougher than half of those shanks."
He cut off abruptly as another screech roared throughout the air. His eyebrows ceased together, he turned to Thomas, back to Emily and shook his head.
"There's only one way we can do this," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the sounds of the Grievers coming to life. "We need to split up- it's the only way. Emily, you need to stick with Thomas. You need to protect him, lead him through the Maze. Just keep moving. Don't stop running, Emily. I believe in you."
Emily opened her mouth to protest, but Minho had already turned and began running, disappearing into the darkness of the long corridor before them.
Emily stared at the spot where Minho had vanished, her head whirling as she tried to process what had just happened.
"Did he seriously just leave us?" Thomas's angry voice pulled her from her daze. "Is he really that much of a coward? How could he do that?"
"He's not a coward," Emily turned to face the Greenie. "He knows better than either of us. We just have to trust him, alright?" She turned to Alby, narrowing her eyes slightly. "We need to find a way to hide him..."
Thomas kneeled beside the unconscious boy, placing his fingers to his neck. He then leaned on to his chest, as if listening to his heartbeat.
"Still alive," he said as he stood up once more. He looked around him, searching for a place to hide him, and Emily did the same.
She rocked back and forth on her heels, bringing her bottom lip in between her teeth in deep thought. For a moment, she considered leaving Alby for dead. But she quickly pushed the thought away with a cringe of disgust. How could she think that way? She could never leave a friend to die like this. Not even someone as cranky as Alby.
Yes, she did consider Alby a friend. Despite his quick temper and negative attitude towards anything and everything, Emily had grown to respect him. She thought of him as a friend. He was cranky, and she did not want to be in his presence half the time. But he was a friend all together.
"Emily."
She snapped out of here thoughts as Thomas spoke. He stared at her, holding a thick vine of ivy in his hand. He pulled on it, and Emily expected it to snap.
But it held.
"Do you think this will hold him?" Thomas asked.
Emily shrugged, "Try hanging on it."
Thomas did so, yanking on the vine once again before pulling himself up on it. He hung there for a few seconds before dropping back to the ground.
The vine still held.
He looked at her, an eyebrow raised.
"Grab him, quickly," she motioned towards Alby. Thomas handed her the vine and headed towards the boy. Emily began to collect other vines, tying them to the first to create a sort of climbing rope.
Thomas dragged Alby over to her just as a deafening crack echoed through the Maze. Emily's head snapped towards the source of the noise, to see a section of the Maze beginning to open.
If Grievers hid behind the stone wall, they were screwed.
"We gotta hurry," she panted quietly. She could heart the whirring, the clicking, the moans of the Grievers coming from every direction at once. It was hard to know which direction it was coming from, as every little noise echoed throughout the Maze.
Thomas grabbed one of the vines and wrapped it around Alby's waist before doing it to himself. Emily copied him, making sure the ivy was secure around her. Thomas was busy wrapping several strands of ivy around Alby's limbs, his hands shaky as he did so. She couldn't even imagine the fear the poor kid felt.
He tied off the last vine and looked up at her, nodding. The determination in his eyes was enough to give her hope, to keep her moving. Emily snatched a vine between her hands and began to climb ever so slightly. Thomas was right behind her, stopping every once in a while to haul Alby up with him.
"Need some help?" she whispered. Thomas shook his head.
"Just keep climbing. I'll be fine."
Emily nodded and kept climbing higher and higher. The clicks and clangs coming from the Maze disoriented her, made it hard for her to concentrate. But she kept going, running on pure adrenaline.
Every so often, she'd glance below her to make sure Thomas was still climbing. He would climb a few feet himself before stopping to haul Alby up beside him. Then, he would tie yet another strand of ivy around the boy's waist, to help support him.
Before long, they were about halfway up the wall, a safe distance from the ground. Emily's limbs ached from climbing, screaming at her to take a rest. She slowly let go of the ivy, praying to herself that it would hold.
Thankfully, it did.
Thomas was breathing heavily beside her, holding on to the vine that held Alby for dear life.
Emily turned herself around so that she was facing the Maze. She felt safe up there, despite being a good fifty feet from the ground. At least they were away from the Grievers, for now.
Yet another mechanical moan screeched through the Maze, followed by a growl of machinery. She began to smell burning oil, and she knew that a Griever was close.
And then, almost as if on cue, something rounded the corner up ahead. It crawled towards them, it's needle-like appendages clicking on the stone floor every time it took a step. An eerie green glow seeped through its blubbery skin, sending shadows dancing along the wall. It let out a low growling sound as it slowly made its way towards them.
In that moment, Emily remembered her first night in the Maze. The fear she felt as she first saw a Griever up close and personal.
She felt the same fear right then as the Griever stopped right in front of their wall, staring right up at them.