Every Heart a Maze | Newt & Thomas

Chapter 14

   "Things are changing. There's no denying that. First Ben gets stung in broad daylight, and then Alby. And now our Greenie here has taken it upon himself to go into the Maze. Which is a clear violation of our rules here."

   Newt had missed the wake up and had slept soundly until the sun had long since risen over the Glade. Something that had never happened to him in three years before. As he now hurried down the stairs, cursing, he already heard voices coming from behind the closed door of the Council Hall. Gally's among the most audible.

   "Yeah, but he saved Alby's life." Frypan's voice was clearly recognizable.

   "Did he?" Newt cautiously opened the door, making sure it didn't creak. There was Gally standing in the center of the wooden room, holding three fingers up. He obviously enjoyed having the undivided attention of the remaining Keepers who sat in a semicircle around him. In the corner behind Gally, Newt saw Thomas sitting in a chair. The boy didn't seem comfortable at all with the whole situation. " For three years, we have coexisted with these things," Gally continued his speech, turning to Thomas and pointing at him. "And now you've killed one of them. Who knows what that could mean."

   "Well, what do you suggest we do?" Newt asked deliberately, drawing everyone's attention.

   "He has to be punished," Gally said, undeterred by Newt's sudden presence and not looking like he was willing to give up his position in the middle of the room any time soon. Newt was indignant about the Gathering having began without him, and that Gally had taken it upon himself to start with the prosecution. As second - no, as first in command, he could not tolerate such disrespect. But he didn't feel like making a scene right now; he'd just work it out with Gally one on one later.

   "Noted. Now, would you be so kind as to take your bloody seat?" Newt pointed at the gap within the line of the Keepers. Gally's nostrils flared treacherously, but then he complied without protest, sitting down between Winston and Zart.

   "In place of our leader, sick in bed, I declare this Gathering begun," Newt then said , with a subtle roll of his eyes as he hated anything approaching formality. "As you all know, the last few days have been bloody crazy, and quite a bit seems centred around our Greenbean, Tommy, seated before us." Well, indeed, Thomas was seated behind Newt, who purposely avoided turning to look at the Greenie. He could feel the boy's eyes on his back though. He could picture his face all too well; right now probably flushed with embarrassment from the attention he was receiving.

   "He's not just a innocent Greenie any more," Gally said, his scratchy voice so low and cruel it was almost comical. "He's a rule breaker now."

   This started off a rumbling of murmurs and whispers, but Newt immediately shushed them. "Gally," he said, "try to keep some buggin' order here. If you're gonna blabber your shuck mouth every time I say something, you can go ahead and bloody leave, because I'm not in a very cheerful mood."

   Newt wasn't in the mood for any of this at all. There were a thousand things on his mind – things being Thomas mostly – and he just wished for as much distance as possible between himself and that one particular boy, especially because of what he'd done last night. He was ashamed, although he really had no reason to be. It wasn't like nobody else here would do it too. As if he himself had never done it before. But something about the situation was different, his fantasy was a real person now, sitting just a few feet away from him. Newt would have preferred to run away and hide somewhere – he even considered the Maze for a second – but instead he had to deal with Gally.

   Gally folded his arms and leaned back, the scowl on his face so forced that it seemed silly, pathetic even. Newt gave the boy a hard stare, then continued. "Glad we got that out of the way." He again rolled his eyes. "Reason we're here is because almost every lovin' kid in the Glade has come up to me in the last day or two either boo-hooing about Thomas or beggin' to take his bloody hand in marriage." That was probably a bit of an exaggeration, but it got his point across. Of course, Tommy had hardly turned anyone's head as much as Newt's himself. Look who's the pathetic one now, he scolded himself before again raising his voice. "We need to decide what we're gonna do with him."

   Gally leaned forward, but Newt cut him off before he could say anything. "You'll have your chance, Gally. One at a time. And Tommy, you're not allowed to say a buggin' thing until we ask you to. Good that?"

   Reluctantly, he turned to the boy in question, waited for a nod of consent from Thomas – who gave it likewise reluctantly – then pointed to the Keeper of the Track-hoes. "Zart, you start."

   There were a few sniggers as Zart shifted in his seat. "Well," the Keeper began, his eyes darting around almost like he was waiting for someone else to tell him what to say, "I don't know. He broke one of our most important rules. We can't just let people think that's okay." He paused and looked down at his hands, rubbing them together. "But then again, he's... changed things. Now we know we can survive out there, and that we can beat the Grievers."

   "Oh, give me a break," Gally spurted. "I bet Minho's the one who actually got rid of the stupid thing,"

   Newt ignored the interjection, relieved that no one else was responding to what Gally had said either.

   "Okay, you're next Frypan."

   The cook smiled at him and sat up straighter. "Shank's got more guts than I've fried up from every pig and cow in the last year." He paused, as expecting a laugh, but none came. " How stupid is this – he saves Alby's life, kills a Griever, and we're sitting here yappin' about what to do with him. As Chuck would say, this is a pile of klunk."

   "So what're recommendin'?" Newt asked, leaning against the wooden pillar behind him and folded his arms across his chest. He was glad that Frypan found the whole situation as absurd as he did.

   Frypan also folded his arms before responding. "Put him on the freaking Council and have him train us everything he did out there."

   Voices erupted from every direction, and it took Newt half a minute to calm everyone down. He winced; Frypan had gone too far with that recommendation, almost invalidating his well-stated opinion of the whole mess.

   "Everyone keep their bloody mouths shut, I mean it. You know the rules – no idea's unacceptable – and you'll have your say when we vote on it." He pointed at the Bugger's Keeper. "Billy?"

   "I don't really have an opinion," the boy said.

   "What?" Newt frowned at him. "Lot of good it did to choose you for the Council, then."

   "Sorry, I honestly don't." Billy shrugged. "If anything, I agree with Frypan, I guess. Why punish a guy for saving someone's life?"

   "So you do have an opinion – is it that?" Newt insisted, raising an eyebrow. Billy shrugged again but nodded.

   Next up was Winston, Keeper of the Blood House. "I think he should be punished. No offence, Greenie, but if we don't punish you we'll set a bad example. He broke our Number One Rule."

   "What kind of punishment do ya recommend?"

   I think he should be put in the Slammer for a week with only bread and water – and we need to make sure everyone knows about it so they don't get any ideas."
Gally clapped, earning a scowl from Newt.

   "Minho, you were there with him. What do you think?" Newt now addressed the Runner who, as always, stayed in the background and hadn't spoken a word since the Gathering had started.

   Minho rose, taking a step forward. "I think, in all the time we've been here, no one's ever killed a Griever before. When I turned tail an ran, this dumb Shank stood behind to help Alby." Minho glanced over at Thomas, taking a deep breath before he continued. "Look, I don't know if he's brave or stupid, but whatever it is, we need more of it. I say we make him a Runner.

   This, once more, caused a babble of voices. Newt sighed, unwilling to assert himself against the commotion again. At least, the bulk of outraged voices seemed to be in favor of Minho's suggestion. He could almost watch Gally's face turning red as he struggled making himself heard, before eventually exploding. He jumped up, facing the others.

   "Look, if you wanna throw the Newbie a parade, that's fine. Go ahead." He said in a loud voice gesturing with his hands underlining every word. The room went quiet, everyone was looking at Gally now. For a moment this seemed to throw him off a bit, he paused, then raised his finger in a threatening gesture before continuing. "But if there's one thing I know about the Maze, it is that you do not -"

   Gally was cut off by a deep droning alarm that sounded from all directions. Everyone recognized it immediately. But the timing of it was so unusual that it took Newt several moments to place it. He exchanged a look with Gally, who looked as stunned as Newt felt.

   "Wait... I think I know that sound...," Thomas said behind them.

   "It's the box coming back up," someone said in a low voice.

   "It shouldn't be," he heard Minho say, but by then Newt had started sprinting. Still recovering from the shock, the others followed him out of the Council Hall.

   The alarm was unmistakable and clearly audible all over the Glade. All over the boys left their current activities and took a run for the Box. Unlike five days ago, when Thomas had come up, this time Newt was the first to reach it. Gally close behind. With suspicion they eyed the still locked steel door in the ground. Any moment now it would slide open and reveal what lay beneath.

   The alarm finally stopped after blaring for a full two minutes. In the meantime a crowd had gathered in the middle of the courtyard. Thomas approached them and when Newt saw the look on the Greenie's face he knew right away that it wasn't a good thing. He steeled himself for the coming flood of questions.

   "Why is everyone freaking out?"

   "Box's coming up," Chuck explained to him.

   "Yeah, but doesn't it do that all the time? Isn't this how you all got here?"

   Chuck shrugged. "Most of us, anyway – guess it's always been really regular. One a month, every month, same day. Maybe whoever's in charge realized you were nothing but a big mistake, sent someone to replace you." The younger boy giggled, a high-pitched snigger for which he earned some sullen looks from those standing around.

   "How do you know it's not just supplies or whatever?"

   "The alarm doesn't go off when that happens," Chuck answered, simply. "The supplies come up every week."

   The grinds and rattles of the rising lift silenced them. A muffled boom announced that it had arrived. Newt watched in anticipation as a crack split the metal square right down the middle. Then both sides of the door slid apart.

   Newt and Gally took positions on each side and with a metallic scrape they pulled open the Box's roof grille underneath. As he leaned over the opening, he could make out the figure within. The kid lay curled up on the floor, motionless. Immediately Newt realized that something was wrong.

   "Newt, what do you see?"

   Newt wasn't sure what he was seeing. The kid still didn't move. Newt couldn't see the boy's face because it was still in the shadow of the Box, but something about the outline of the body made him wonder.

   After a moment's hesitation, he jumped down, kneeling next to the apparently sleeping person. Brushing the long dark hair away from the pale face, he got confirmation for what he'd already suspected from afar. It wasn't a boy.

   "It's a girl."