𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓑𝓻𝓾𝓲𝓼𝓮𝓭 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓑𝓻𝓸𝓴𝓮𝓷 - [EDITING]

Chapter Eighteen - Addy

Newt and I sit together in silence for at least an hour. His scent feels like home. I never want to move from this spot, but suddenly, Newt tenses and looks at his watch.

"The Doors should've closed by now."

I lift my head. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," Newt says, standing. "Something must be wrong."

He marches into the Glade, his limp more apparent to me know that I know where it came from. My heart twinges in sadness but I follow him out nonetheless.

It seems like Newt isn't the only one who'd noticed the late closing of the Doors. A small crowd of Gladers congregate around the Doors, muttering speculations amongst themselves. As we approach, many of the boys give me funny looks and go silent or whisper behind their hands. I glance around for someone to explain, but my only friend nearby is Newt and his brown eyes avoid mine purposefully.

"Where is she?" Alby sounds angry and I twirl around to see that his face confirming what I'd heard in his voice. "Addy! Come here! Don't fight, it's not worth it."

"W- what?" Alby grabs my arm and starts marching me away. I throw a frantic glance at Newt and he immediately jumps into action.

"Alby! Alby, stop this! This is crazy!" Newt follows closely, putting a hand on Alby's shoulder, but the other boy shrugs him off.

"No, Newt! It's not crazy! The shucking Doors didn't close because of her! Next thing you know, the whole Glade will be filled with shucking Grievers!"

I cast frantic glances between the two leaders. "Will someone please explain to me what is going on?"

Newt hides his face in his hand and drags it down over his chin, but Alby has no problem explaining. "They didn't send supplies when the Box came up today. They sent a message. If we send you back, we'll all be safe."

"Which we're not going to do!" Newt interjects. "We can't trust their word! How are we to know they won't send Grievers on all of us whether we do or not?"

"I guess we'll have to find out." Alby's words have a terrifying sense of finality dripping from them. His grip on my arm tightens and he drags me towards the Box with inhumane strength.

"Alby, stop this!" Newt grabs my other arm.

"It's ok, Newt," I whisper. "It'll be better for all of you."

"No. No!" Newt protests. Just then Thomas and Minho join the crowd, already filled in on what's occurring.

My brother steps in between Alby and the Box exclaiming, "You can't serizously be considering this! It'll be dangerous either way! We might as well keep as many helpful bodies as we can!"

"You'd seriously rather risk we all die?" Alby exclaims, clearly sick of being told off. "Last I checked, you're not in charge! I am! And I say that she goes. What evidence do you have that they won't actually harm us? Has that ever stopped them before? We're in a shucking Maze with Grievers!"

"Thomas..." I whisper. I'm terrified, but I'd rather risk one life than many. "Just let me go. It's for the best."

Alby jabs a finger in my direction. "See? Even she can see reason." Then he proceeds to shove me into the Box.

My head hits the metal bottom of the Box and I can feel a goose egg forming.

"No!" Newt, Thomas, and Minho cry in unison. Chuck stands behind them, clearly sad, but respecting my wishes. He was never talking about the maps, I realize. He was talking about this.

"Hold them back," Alby orders and a few hesitant Gladers grab the arms of my friends to restrain them from doing anything rash.

"Get through the Maze!" I tell, burying my panic. "I'll meet you in the other side."