It was like every other night, we waited, tossed in our sleep, hoping it was another bad nightmare. But we knew it wasn't. The fear was too real, we couldn't deny the way our hearts banged against our chest, wanting nothing more than to escape. We were trapped though, no way out, forever feeling this sense of dread that threatened to swallow us whole.
It wasn't until four hours later that I heard the first moan. It was louder than the crunching, whirring, and clicking the grievers made as they moved towards us. It was a straight line from the walls to the homestead and they already knew we were here. I had suggested to Alby and Newt that we move our hiding spot, but Newt didn't want to hear it and Alby wasn't much help.
Ever since his attack on the maps he hasn't been the same. Well, really, ever since his changing. I was aware that you lost a piece of yourself when you went through it, and I guess I have, but Alby looked like he lost his whole self. He was a husk of what he once was. Sure he wasn't a leader for long, but he had that air of authority that everyone went to. Now they avoided him.
A lot of boys didn't really take Newt seriously, but they listened. It was like they could tell he didn't want to be a stand in leader. But it didn't matter, because someone needed to do it.
It wasn't long before the homestead started to shake and boys started screaming, yelling that it got someone. There was a loud boom and then the massive gooey creature was barreling through the mainroom where I found myself tonight. In its clutches was a boy, but I couldn't tell who. The griever moved too fast, the boy appearing and disappearing with every roll of the monster. It ripped through the front door, not slowing down, not even acknowledging that it was there in the first place.
There was a blur on my left and I saw that Thomas was chasing after it. I called his name, but he didn't stop, didn't turn around. What is he doing? I was frozen, watching as Thomas threw himself at it, only then did the griever halt. It grabbed at his clothes, his skin. Thomas screamed and then tried to fight back. He knocked an arm off and managed to escape. The griever-already with a boy in its clutches-forgets about Thomas and rolls back towards the maze, its friends in tow.
Every nerve in my body came alive, my muscles moving me without a second thought. I know there were others behind me and even if I hadn't run the maze in months, I was still the fastest one. Thomas was running back, but he was wobbling, unbalanced on his feet. He looked like he was going to fall any second.
I pumped faster and thankfully made it before Thomas could hit the ground. But he was really heavy and I wasn't expecting him to be, so when his body hit mine, we fell to the floor. I groaned as a rock dug into my side and forced Thomas off of my upper half so I could sit up. He was gasping and looked sickly already. There were multiple sting wounds around his body, dark purple veins reaching toward each other like a spiderweb.
"What the hell Thomas?" He was half conscious and I barked at someone behind me to get the grief serum from Clint. Teresa, Chuck, and Newt gathered around us, worry in their eyes. Teresa looked close to tears.
"Why, Tommy."
Thomas's lips moved, forming words and they came out strained. "Had to...I had to..."
"Shut up. Don't waste your energy." Thomas didn't say anything else and his eyes rolled back. He was still breathing, but it was shallow and quick. "We have to get him up, move him to the med room, or whatever is left."
We got Thomas up and when the Badgers saw us, they took over. I stayed behind, already knowing what happens after he gets the Grief serum. He'll feel fine for a second and then that's when the screaming starts. There was a commotion as they tried to keep Teresa downstairs and she looked about two seconds away from knocking someone's teeth in. I sighed and rested my hand on her shoulder. She looked at me with such fierceness in her eyes, but when she searched my tired face, she dropped it, tears welling in her eyes, not caring that they started to fall.
She let me lead her outside, away from everyone else, and far enough where Thomas's screams won't hurt our ears. "Why would he run at the griever like that?" Her voice was hoarse, probably from holding back to sobs I knew were close.
I had too...that's what he said. He had to get stung and I was stupid for not realizing why Thomas has been in a mood since we figured out the code on the maps. "He had to remember. That's what he was trying to say. I don't know if you got told, but the griever sting has something in it, something that gives you some memories back. He had to get stung to remember."
She sniffed and nodded, soaking it in. her eyes were red and she looked like she wanted to continue crying, but she held it back, squaring her shoulders, and wiping her face. "How do we know he's going to get the memories he wants?"
"We don't. It's different for everyone."
"How do you know?" Her eyes were wide and bright, they were demanding an answer. One I didn't want to talk about right now. My chest ached, but I knew if I couldn't say anything now, I would never be able to. I didn't have to say everything. Just a little at a time.
"I went through the Changing myself. There was something I had to remember, it was literally life or death for me to know. I guess I wished hard enough and I got exactly what I needed. If Thomas wants those memories back badly enough, maybe he'll get them."
She nodded again and then chewed on her lip. "I'm sorry, about before. In the map room."
I waved my hand. "In the past." I shrugged. "I owe an apology as well."
She copied me. She sighed. "Do you really think he's gonna be fine?"
"I do. Just don't worry, okay? You're too young for gray hair." She laughed.
It took Thomas exactly three days to wake up from his 'coma'. He continuously screamed and we knew it was over when it was completely silent for more than ten minutes. Chuck had been with him and ran out, yelling that he was awake. Newt went in to see him first, but was out in a minute.
I frowned. "What happened?"
"He wants to call a gathering."
