The Inventor

Chapter Fifty Three; "Only one person has to die"

A crowd had been made, Newt, Alby, Thomas, and Minho standing with their weapons at the front. You stayed mixed into the crowd, Chuck finding a way to your side.

"Thomas said I'm named after someone named Darwin," Chuck said randomly.

"Who?" You muttered.

He shrugged, "Beats me."

"Remind me to get us both history lessons when we get out of here," You said. Chuck nodded.

He had a big bulky backpack, just like everyone else but with the exception of a fanny pack strung across his chest.

You tapped it, "What's that?"

"The thing you gave me," He unzipped the pouch and showed it to you, "Keeping it nice and safe."

You smiled, "Nice to hear-"

"Oh my god Y/n shut up, you can't whisper for shuck!" Minho yelled from the front, "I'm trying to give words of motivation!"

"You're failing miserably!" You shouted back, "Go on! Say it!"

For a few moments he was silent, then said, "Be careful, don't die."

"Great, we're all bloody inspired," You heard Newt remark, "Y/n! Get up here! Your the only one who can shucking work these bomb things!"

"Coming!" You yelled, then turned to Chuck and gripped his shoulder, "Be careful, stick with Thomas and Teresa, I'll see you down there once the grievers are out of the way."

Chuck gave a worried glance but then took a breath and stuck his chin out, "Got it."

"Good that," You patted his shoulder, standing up, "It will be all over soon little man."

You turned and walked to the front, taking your place between Newt and Alby. The words you said, you believed they were true.

Because, one way or another, it will all be over soon.

———————

You ran in the front, as far away as you could within the group's sight. The only one that bothered to catch up to you was Minho, huffing and puffing lights but you guessed that was more from nerves then exertion.

He nodded to you, "How's it going?"

You gave him a suspicious look, "It's going."

"Yeah," He cleared his throat awkwardly, "Who do you think is going to be the unlucky shank?"

"As long as it's not Newt or Chuck, I don't care," You glanced at him, feeling the urge to mention his name with the others too. You put it back, though, it was an unwelcome thought. You liked it better before the shucking, that tension wasn't new. This was pathetic and awkward, you wanted to break that layer and get back to common ground of hatred before something became too complicated.

"Right," He muttered, "Always Chuck and Newt, they're your number ones."

"Damn right," You answered without hesitation.

It was silent after that. You resented how bad the comment made you feel, resented the whole conversation. This shouldn't be important, it wasn't allowed to be until you were out of the maze.

You stopped him just around the corner of the Cliff, urging him to close his eyes and listen. Thomas stopped behind you next.

You felt a bile rise in your throat, on the verge of breaking into a cold sweat just from the sound alone.