Newt

WICKED

The days seemed to blur together. Time was difficult to measure here. He had to learn to measure time by the sun, which was about as easy as eating klunk to Newt. As the days passed, though, it all began to seem a bit more familiar.

Alby allowed him two weeks rest before asking him to go back into the maze. He knew that it hurt him more than a bloody blade to the skull, but it was necessary. They needed to find a way out. Newt understood that. And, if he was being honest to himself, he missed being a Runner. Sulking around The Glade hadn't done him any good. It just reminded him of how tired he was with all of this.

The second he entered the maze, Newt felt a rush of thrill. He tore down the path, making a sharp left turn, then a right. The walls loomed high above him, but he forced his sight to remain forward, not up. He had to memorize this path. He had to remember how to get back.

After what Newt believed was four hours or so, he stopped, catching his breath. As he bent over panting with his hands on his knees, he noticed something. Curiously, he peeled back the ivy blanketing one of the walls. There, painted in black, industrial font, were the letters WICKED. Newt's mind raced with questions that didn't seem to have any answers.

The strangest part was, the longer Newt stared at the letters, the more familiar they seemed. How could they be familiar? How could he recognize those random letters but not his own buggin' family?

As he stared, something else occurred to him. The shadows: the shadows on the wall. They shouldn't be there.

Newt's head snapped up to the sky. It was darker than he felt comfortable with. He should have been back in The Glade by now. Panic settled in his chest like a flock of birds and suddenly Newt was running.

Fear clouded his judgment. He made unnecessary mistakes. He had to turn around more times than he could count. The whole time, in the midst of his fear, Alby's words were seared into his mind.

Make sure you get back in time, Greenbean. No one survives a night in the maze.

He moved faster. He was smarter. He forced himself to remember the way, shoving down his fear and telling himself not to be such a bleedin' sissy. When he rounded the corner and saw his friends waiting for him, Newt had never been so happy.

Friends, he thought. How easy that word comes to me.

He didn't have time to think much about that, as Winston's voice shattered his thoughts.

"Hurry up shuckface, the doors are closing!" His voice was frantic. Newt soon saw why. The large steel doors were in fact closing. Quickly. If Newt didn't hurry, he'd put Alby's theory to the test, but he knew that he wouldn't survive a night in the maze. He wouldn't have the will to survive.

Newt put everything he had into making it through those doors. He could not die. Not yet. Not when he finally acknowledged that he had friends here, that he had the chance to build something. Maybe it was a desperate hope, but he didn't want to give up yet.

The doors were nearly shut when he threw himself between them. The air was crushed from his lungs as he struggled to wiggle through. He had never been so claustrophobic in his life. A primal scream ripped through his throat as he squeezed out the opening and into The Glade.

The other boys were silent for a moment as Newt wheezed on the ground, arms and legs shakily supporting him. He attempted to sit up, but collapsed face first into the dirt.

It was as if a light switch flicked in the other boy's brains. They all snapped and were surrounding him in an instant. Winston helped him sit up while another boy offered him water and patted his shoulder. Alby stood silently watching, but Newt could see the relief in his eyes, and that was more than enough comfort for him.

He thanked the other boys, smiling lightly. For the first time in a long time, the smile was real.

"You're a real bloody shank, you know that right?" Winston said, mocking Newt's accent. Newt just rolled his eyes in reply, smiling widely. The best part was, he had no idea what the hell a 'shank' even was, but it sure felt right to say.