Every Heart a Maze | Newt & Thomas

Chapter 12

   Newt spent the whole night at the West Door. Even if he had wanted to, he probably wouldn't have been able to tell his body to get up. Chuck had checked on him three times, each time Newt had pretended to be asleep. The fourth time the boy had brought him a blanket and had hesitantly spread it over him. Newt hadn't realized before that he was shivering from the cold. His aching heart numbing his body to any physical sensations.

   Chuck also was the one waking him up in the morning after he somehow had managed to fall asleep. The Doors were about to re-open, and Newt didn't have much time to act on the decision he'd made the night before. He tried to smile at Chuck, who eyed him worriedly, but it ended in a grimace of sorts.

   "Go and wake up the others, I need as many volunteers as possible," Newt prompted, clearing his throat as his voice sounded thin and cracked.

   "Volunteers for what?"

   "I'll go into the Maze." Now his voice was much stronger again.

   "You... WHAT?"

   Newt scrambled to his feet, his right ankle aching like hell from the night on the cold floor, but he actually welcomed the pain, challenging it with every step, putting full weight on his bad leg. "Just go and wake the others, okay?" he said as he folded the blanket and handed it to Chuck.

   Newt went straight to the Homestead, but he didn't find Gally where he thought he'd be. The corner where the boy used to sleep was empty, his sheets untouched. That was unusual. Newt frowned, then stepped back outside, ignoring the many stares from the Gladers slowly waking up around him.

   "Hey Winston, do ya know where Gally might be?" he asked the Slicer's Keeper in passing.

   "Haven't seen the shank since last night, headed for the Deadheads."

   Newt gave a curt nod, then hurried in the direction Winston had pointed. He found Gally leaning against one of the thicker trees in the Deadheads. He looked quite peaceful asleep and Newt was almost sorry to have to wake the boy.

   "Don't you dare touch me," Gally growled before Newt could reach out his hand. Then his eyes opened and Newt noticed how red they were. If he didn't know any better, he would have thought Gally had cried. But who should the Builder have cried for? Alby? Unlikely. Minho? Definitely not over the loss of Thomas.

   "What do you want?" Gally snarled as Newt just stood there, staring.

   "I'm going into the Maze."

   Gally looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "And what exactly is it you're hoping for, Shuck-face? Do you think Alby and Minho were out there happily riding a Griever into sunset? They're dead, Newt, there's no use looking for them."

   "I don't expect ya to understand, but I'll bring their bodies back here. I'll bury 'em like we always do," Newt said quietly, looking down at the floor while tears threatened to well up in his eyes again.

   "You know who else was out there retrieving the remains of a friend? Right, Minho and Alby!" Gally spat into his face and Newt flinched at the words. "I won't do it. I won't set a shucking foot out of the Glade."

   Newt knew Gally was horrified of the Maze. Always has been. "And I'm not asking you to do so."

   "Then what is it that you want?" Gally asked, raising one of his prominent eyebrows at him.

   "If I'm out there, someone's gotta keep order. And if I shouldn't come back-"

   "Stop it now!" Gally interrupted but Newt held his gaze. "You can't be serious."

   "Yes I bloody am. And I know how keen you are to take my position, so ya won't stop me."

   Gally's face fell for a second, then he composed himself. "Yeah, you're right. I won't try to stop your shucking suicide mission. But do me a favor, Newt, and do it right this time."

   Newt stared at the boy in front of him, dumbfounded. "Fuck you, Gally!" he hissed, tempted to rise his middle finger at him. "This isn't 'bout me, it's about Minho and Alby!"

   "It's about the Greenie, too, isn't it?"

   "Yeah, it's about him too."

   "Then what's holding you back?"

   "I have to be sure ya do it. That you'll stand in for me 'til I'm back."

   Gally snorted derisively. "That should be the least of your worries. Of course I will," he paused. "That's it?"

   Newt nodded. "That's it," he turned to leave, then he stopped again. "And Gally? Don't get too bloody used to it. I'll be back."

   "Is that a promise or a threat?"

   "That's up to you."

   Newt and a group of volunteers, in addition to the Runners also Frypan and Zart among them, were ready to go even before the sun had fully risen. It was the first time Newt was entering the Maze since the incident, an odd feeling accompanying him. Newt dreaded seeing what was left of his friends and he just wanted to turn around immediately again. He'd no hope of finding them in one piece, but he had to see their dead bodies to find some peace.

   They had been walking scarcely half an hour when they heard footsteps echoing between the high walls that weren't their own. Newt was sure he was imagining them, until they walked down a particularly long corridor, at the end of which two figures stumbled around the corner and into their sight. The figures unmistakably being Minho and Thomas. A very much alive Minho and an equally lively Thomas.

   Newt put a hand over his mouth to stifle the sob that escaped as a wave of relief washed over him. Then confusion hit. And then anger. It was impossible, it had to be some dirty trick. Maybe he'd been stung by a Griever and now started hallucinating. But the others saw them too, so he probably wasn't stuck in a pipe dream.

   Newt limped as fast as he could towards the two boys, he had thought he'd never see again. Not in one piece and alive, at least. "What happened?" he asked before he'd even reached them. Looking at Thomas' worn-out features, he wasn't sure whether to smack him for his stupidity or kiss him because he was just so relieved to see him alive. He did neither, following a sudden impulse, he just reached out for him, pulling Thomas into his arms.

   The hug felt nice. And if he'd caught Thomas off guard, the other boy didn't show it. He returned the hug, wrapping his hands around Newt and clutching the fabric at his back like a drowning man on a lifeline. And that's probably what Newt was to him at that moment.

   "Dude, aren't you glad to see me too?" Newt pulled away from Thomas to look at Minho, who was standing next to them, arms outstretched in anticipation. He rolled his eyes, but then he hugged Minho as well. After all, he really was glad to see him. Really, really glad.

   He still couldn't believe it. Thomas and Minho had actually survived a night in the Maze. "How in the bloody-" he started, wanting to ask how that could be possible, but was interrupted by Thomas.

   "We'll tell you later. We have to get Alby first."

   Newt stared at Thomas. He wouldn't have dared to wish that after Minho and Thomas he would also get Alby back. "What do you mean? He's alive?"

   "Just come here." As Thomas passed, he lightly brushed his hand over Newt's back. Newt flinched, instantly wondering if the touch had been intended or not. The boy headed to the right, craning his neck to look high up at the wall, searching along the thick vines until he found the spot where Alby hung by his arms and legs far above them. Without saying anything, Thomas pointed up, but Newt wouldn't get his hopes up just yet. Alby was there, and seemingly in one piece, but there was no sign of movement as Newt saw his friend hanging in the ivy.

   Completely bewildered he returned Thomas' gaze. "Is he... alive?" Please let him be, Newt thought.

   "I don't know," Thomas replied with a shrug. "Was when I left him up there."

   "When you left him..." Newt shook his head in disbelief. Tried not to let on how much the Greenie impressed him.

   "You saw a Griever?" Frypan wanted to know, who had stepped closer to them and was now also looking up at Alby.

   "Yeah, I saw one." said Thomas, exchanging a glance with Minho. Newt looked back and forth between them, wondering what had happened that night.

   "He didn't just see it," Minho paused, looking at those standing around. "He killed it."

   There was some whispering among the Runners and Thomas looked down, as if uncomfortable with the sudden attention.

   "You and Minho get your butts inside, get yourselves checked by the Med-jack. You look bloody awful." Thomas actually didn't; Newt found the boy still looked way too handsome for what he must have endured the previous night, but he'd beware to tell him so. "I want the whole story when they're done and you're rested up."

   It was clear to read on Thomas' face what he was thinking of the order, but Newt was having none of it, the boy needed to eat and rest, and Newt needed some space from him to think straight again.

   Impatiently, he motioned for Minho to accompany the Greenie away. Thomas opened his mouth to say something but thankfully the Korean boy grabbed him by the arm and forced him to walk towards the Glade. "We need to sleep. And bandages. Now," he said firmly.

   Thomas glanced up to Alby one more time, then his gaze fell on Newt. Newt stared back at him – tying to master a strict expression – until the boy was out of sight, then he turned, sighing.