How I survived in an all boys glade

Chapter Seventy-four

- What do you mean we can't leave? -

"Now, what the hell is going on out there?" Newt demands as Thomas and Minho sprint back into the Glade, their faces pale with urgency. The strange, echoing noises from the Maze still ring in my ears, making my pulse quicken.

"What the hell have you done now, Thomas?" Gally snaps, his tone accusatory as usual.

"Oh, come on, Gally. Give him a break already," I interject, stepping closer to Thomas and Minho as they lead us further into the Glade. Thomas glances at me and offers a quick, appreciative smile before addressing Newt directly.

"We found something," Thomas starts, his breath heavy. "A new passage. We think it could be a way out."

My eyes widen in shock as I glance between him and Minho. "Really?" Newt asks, his voice laced with a fragile hint of hope.

"It's true," Minho says, nodding earnestly. "We opened a door—something I've never seen before. I think it must be where the Grievers go during the day."

"Wait. Whoa, whoa, whoa," Chuck pipes up, squeezing himself between Thomas and Minho. 

"You're saying you found the Grievers' home?" He looks up at Minho, then over at Thomas, his expression a mix of awe and fear. "And you want us to go in?"

"Their way in could be our way out, Chuck," Thomas explains patiently, though his eyes dart nervously to the group.

"Yeah, or there could be a dozen Grievers waiting for us on the other side," Gally counters, his voice heavy with skepticism.

"For God's sake, Gally..." I mutter under my breath, rolling my eyes. His negativity is as exhausting as it is predictable.

"The truth is, Thomas doesn't know what he's done. As usual," Gally continues, his tone dripping with disdain.

Thomas stops abruptly and spins around, glaring at Gally. "Yeah, well, at least I did something, Gally," he snaps. I step closer to Minho, sensing the tension thickening like a storm cloud.

"What have you done, huh?" Thomas challenges, his frustration boiling over. "Aside from hiding behind these walls all the time?"

"Let me tell you something, Greenie," Gally fires back, stepping closer to Thomas. "You've been here three days, all right? I've been here three years."

"Yeah, you've been here three years. And you're still here, Gally!" Thomas shouts, his voice cutting through the air. "What does that tell you?" His words are sharp, unrelenting. "Maybe you should do things differently."

Before Gally can retort, Teresa steps forward from the shadows. "Guys," she says quietly, her voice almost lost in the heated argument.

They don't hear her, too caught up in their bickering. "Guys!" I yell, my voice breaking through the noise. They both freeze and turn to me, irritation and surprise etched on their faces. I tilt my head toward Teresa, silently urging them to listen.

"It's Alby," Teresa says, her voice trembling slightly. "He's awake."

A tense silence falls over the group as we all follow her to the med-hut.

---

Inside the med-hut, the air feels heavy with unease. Alby sits on the edge of the bed, his back to us, clutching his shirt tightly against his chest. His shoulders are hunched, his breathing shallow.

"Has he said anything?" Minho asks, his voice hushed.

"No," Teresa replies, shaking her head.

"Alby?" Newt steps forward, sitting beside him on the bed. "Alby, you all right?" he asks gently, leaning closer, but Alby doesn't respond.

Thomas kneels in front of him, trying a different approach. "Hey, Alby," he says softly. His voice is calm, steady, but concern flickers in his eyes.

Alby's gaze remains fixed on the wall, his grip tightening on the fabric in his hands. "Alby, we might have found a way out of the Maze," Thomas tells him, his tone hopeful. "You hear me? We could be getting out of here."

Alby shakes his head slowly, his lips moving as if forming words too faint to hear. Finally, his voice breaks the silence. "We can't leave."

"What do you mean, we can't leave?" I ask, stepping forward, my voice as soft as I can manage.

"They won't let us," Alby murmurs, still staring blankly ahead.

"What are you talking about?" Thomas presses, his brow furrowing as he tries to make sense of Alby's cryptic words.

"I remember," Alby says, his voice trembling. Tears glisten in his eyes as he finally turns to look at Thomas.

"What do you remember?" Thomas asks carefully, his gaze steady.

Alby's eyes lock onto Thomas, and his next words send a chill down my spine. "You. You were always their favorite, Thomas. Always." A single tear rolls down his cheek, his voice filled with an unsettling mix of anger and despair.

Before we can process his words, shouts and screams erupt outside the med-hut. I whip my head toward the window, my stomach knotting with dread.

"Why did you do this? Why did you come here?" Alby demands, his voice cracking as he stares at Thomas with a tear-streaked face.

But the chaos outside grows louder, pulling all of our attention. One by one, we rush out to see what's happening, my heart pounding as I brace myself for whatever comes next.