Newt came with the food and I wondered when was the last time that I ate? I scarfed it down and sat against the wall, feeling less hurt and a little tired. Newt ate slower but when he was done he set his plate on the nightstand, scooting the lamp over a bit.
He grabbed his napkin, dumped it in water and held out his palm. "Your hand." He wiped the crusted blood off my skin as best he could and now it didn't look like I was hurt or hurt someone. "Where did you even find this blood?"
"The deadheads. I was just walking and ended up there. It's where I was attacked." I said it like I was so sure, but what I saw couldn't be my imagination. There was no way. "Someone messed with our memories. Because I know something happened, but it just feels like a bad dream, one I'm trying to forget."
"So if we go on with what you're saying, Nick's death was fake. Made up." Newt looked like he was about to have an existential crisis as well.
"You were close to Nick?"
He nodded. "I was there when a griever took him. At least I think..." He looked out the window, which didn't see much, considering the back of the homestead was facing the walls. "But I don't understand why they would mess with our memories."
It had to be something huge, life-altering, maybe for no reason at all, but to see how we would react to it. It made no more sense than it did before I told Newt. And a thought struck me so hard I almost winced.
I guess it was time to move forward with my plan.
I told Minho I was fine enough to run the next day and after some convincing he allowed me to gather my gear and stand with them at the wall. Luckily I didn't have Jack today, he was doing really well with another Runner. No other strings or casualties.
Or so I thought. Minho saddled up next to me, tightening his straps. "Running with you today Greenie."
I hid my nerves with laughter but the way Minho looked at me, I didn't hide it well. "I haven't been greenie for like two months now."
He chuckled. "I miss calling you Greenie, you know?" I didn't know because I hated being called that. Even when they knew my name. It made no sense to continue to call me that.
"Why are you running with me though? Not that I don't enjoy your company."
"I just want to make sure you don't faint or something on your run. You don't look completely fine." I didn't feel completely fine, but I had a plan and that was the only reason I was on my feet right now. I haven't told Minho about what I didn't remember and what I had confused. And I definitely didn't tell Alby, for fear that he might call a gathering or something.
Our relationship hasn't really been the same since...well the death of the first boy who attacked me. I haven't really been avoiding him, but he rarely talks to me, even when we're at the same table.
I figured that even if Minho was here, I would be able to lose him somewhere, if I caught him off guard. Which didn't really happen. Minho always had his guard up, even in the Glade.
The Maze doors opened and we all readied ourselves, taking off into the Maze. We separated and Minho followed next to me. I wanted to run ahead of him and lose him early, but I had to wait. There was no way a griever would be out right now.
"Newt asked me about Nick last night." Minho said. We had been running for a while, almost coming to lunch.
I almost tripped and landed on my face. "What about him?"
"He said it had something to do with you, wouldn't really specify. But he asked what I remembered about Nick."
"What do you remember?"
"He was one of my best Runners. Hurt when the grievers got him. Why do you guys want to know?"
I sighed. Figured Minho would have the same memory as Newt. I was the only anomaly. "Something weird is going on with me. I can't really explain what, but I was hoping you wouldn't have that memory."
Minho was going to say something but clicking and whirring stopped him in his tracks. I slowed down, but continued moving towards the sounds.
"Jane, what are you doing?" I didn't respond to him, I didn't want to give him the answer. "Jane."
I got to the corner of the wall and saw a griever on the other side. I looked back at Minho and was starting to make his way towards me. I wasn't sure what he was thinking, but by the look on his face, it seemed he had figured out what I was doing. "Don't, just forget about it."
"I can't Minho. I'll go crazy if I don't find out."
"You'll die." He was getting too close so I backed up until there was no wall between the Griever and I. Minho's eyes pleaded with me. But I had already made up my mind. I hit my foot against the floor, the sound echoing. A screeching sound came from the Griever and it was so quick to move towards me. Minho yelled my name and I let out an oof as his body hit mine and we landed on the floor. "You're fucking crazy."
I pushed at him. "Get off me."
"No. It's not worth killing yourself over." The griever was moving around behind us, it's flashlight searching, then landing on us.
"It is for me." I got Minho in the throat with my forearm. He gasped and fell off of me. I pushed myself up and ran towards the griever. Its arms reached for me and I dodged them, because my plan wasn't for me to get caught. I needed to get stung.
It scratched me and various appendages popped out, with different kinds of sharp things. What the hell kind of people would make creatures like these. What was their purpose? I finally saw a metal arm with a sharp needle at the end of it. That was it. I ducked under a swinging arm and pulled a knife out, cutting the stinger down. I rolled out of the grievers way, following the stinger as it rolled away.
The griever screeched and I heard it coming towards me, not time to lose. The sting was hot everywhere as soon as it broke skin. I screamed and fell to the floor. It burned and I wanted to scratch my skin off. I couldn't hear anything but the ringing in my ears. I couldn't even hear my screams, but I felt them scrap against my throat, making it raw.
I had never felt this much pain. And a part of me regretted ever thinking this was the best plan ever, another part asked when the memories would come.
Black dots filtered into my vision and I felt myself slipping away. Through half lidded eyes I saw Minho coming towards me, the griever was nowhere in sight. Minho held me in his arms and I already knew that he was complaining, calling me every word he could find. I wanted to tell him I was fine, but I couldn't move my lips. They were too heavy. Soon so were my eyes, I had no choice but to close them.
