How I survived in an all boys glade

Chapter Seventy-seven

- what do you mean 'not all'? -

"Hey," Teresa's voice cuts through the thick tension. I turn around to see her kneeling in the pit alongside Thomas, who's finally awake. His expression is dazed, but the faint light of recognition in his eyes is enough to bring me closer. I crouch at the edge of the pit, my heart still pounding from everything we've been through.

"Are you okay?" Teresa asks softly. Thomas rubs his face, wincing as he pushes himself to sit upright.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Chuck's voice, sharp and tinged with irritation, snaps through the quiet. His face is red with anger, but there's something raw underneath—worry. 

Fear.

Thomas and Teresa both look up at us. "What happened?" Thomas asks, his voice rough.

"Gally's taken control," Newt explains, stepping closer to the edge of the pit. His tone is measured, but there's a flicker of frustration in his eyes. "He said we had a choice. Either join him or get banished at sundown—with you."

Thomas straightens, alarm spreading across his face. "And the others agreed to that?" His gaze sweeps over the Gladers scattered around, working to rebuild the tattered remnants of the Glade. I follow his line of sight, spotting Tyrell by the stables. The sense of betrayal hanging in the air is almost suffocating.

"Gally has everyone convinced that you're the reason all this has happened," Teresa says, her voice heavy.

Thomas clenches his jaw and looks down. "Well," he says quietly, "he's right so far."

"What are you talking about?" Minho demands, his confusion mirroring my own. My brow furrows as I try to make sense of Thomas's words.

Thomas exhales sharply. "This place... it's not what we thought it was. It's not a prison—it's a test."

The weight of his words settles heavily over us. A test? My mind reels, trying to connect the dots.

"It all started when we were kids," Thomas continues, his voice steady but haunted. "They'd give us these challenges. They were experimenting on us. And then... people started disappearing. Every month, one after the other, like clockwork."

"Sending them into the Maze?" Newt asks quietly, gripping my hand. His touch is grounding, but even that can't stop the chill that runs through me as Thomas nods.

"Yeah," Thomas replies. "But not all of us."

"What do you mean, 'not all'?" I ask, my voice trembling as I pull my hand from Newt's and lean closer.

Thomas looks up, his eyes meeting mine. "Guys... I'm one of them. The people who put you here—I worked for them."

The words hit like a punch to the gut. My breath catches, and I glance back at Theo, who's staring at Thomas with equal shock. "I watched you guys for years. The entire time you've been here, I... I was on the other side of it." He hesitates, his gaze shifting to Teresa. "So were you."

"What?" Teresa's voice breaks as she shakes her head, retreating a step. "No. That can't be true."

"It is," Thomas says firmly. "I saw it."

"But why would they send us up here if we were with them?" Teresa asks, her voice cracking. I nod slightly, silently echoing her question. It doesn't make sense.

"It doesn't matter," Thomas says.

Newt speaks up, his voice low but resolute. "He's right. It doesn't matter—any of it." He looks down at Thomas, then at the rest of us. "Because the people we were before the Maze... they don't even exist anymore. These Creators took care of that."

Newt's words resonate deeply, and I feel a strange mix of anger and clarity as I look at him. He's right. Whatever we were before, it doesn't define who we are now.

"But what does matter is who we are now and what we do right now," Newt continues, his voice growing more determined. "You went into the Maze and found a way out."

Thomas shakes his head, guilt etched into every line of his face. "Yeah, but if I hadn't, Alby would still be alive."

"You can't be sure of that," I interject. "It could've been the Creators, testing us, forcing a reaction."

"Maybe," Newt says, nodding slightly. "But I know that if Alby were here, he'd tell you the same thing." Newt leans forward, his voice firm and unwavering. "Pick your ars up and finish what you started. Because if we do nothing, that means Alby died for nothing—and I can't have that."

Thomas looks up at Newt, and something shifts in his expression. "Okay," he says quietly, the faintest trace of resolve returning to his voice. "Okay. But we've gotta get through Gally first."

A small smile tugs at my lips. "I might have an idea for that," I say, causing everyone to turn toward me. Their eyes brim with anticipation and determination as I begin to outline the plan.