How I survived in an all boys glade

Chapter Eighty-two

- What now? -

"Is it over?" Chuck asks, his voice weak, as a door behind us opens, leading to another that's still closed. We all turn towards it, uncertain.

"She said we were important," Newt says, his voice tight as he looks down at me. "Then why is it this easy?"

I open my mouth, the words coming out more as a quiet murmur than a question. "What are we supposed to do now?"

Newt glances up at Minho and Theo, then at Thomas. "I don't know," Thomas answers simply. "Let's get out of here." He looks up at the open door.

"Well, let's go then," I say, stepping forward and positioning myself between Thomas and Minho. For a brief second, Thomas stands frozen, as if processing the weight of it all, but soon enough, everyone starts moving toward the door.

But before we even take a step, we hear a voice—one far too familiar.

"No."

Gally's voice rings out, making us freeze in our tracks. Everyone turns toward him, and I notice the gun hanging loosely at his side. Oh god...

"Gally?" Thomas calls out, confusion in his voice as he starts to move toward him. But Teresa quickly stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't," she says quietly, and I glance back at Gally, seeing the black veins creeping up his neck.

"He's been stung..." I whisper, my voice barely audible.

Gally suddenly throws a stinger to the ground with a harsh clatter.

"We can't leave," he says, and his voice cracks, tears welling in his eyes, threatening to fall.

"We did. Gally, we're out," Thomas tries to reason with him. "We're free," he adds, but Gally just scoffs, looking down at the gun in his hand, his fingers trembling.

"Free?" Gally asks, a bitter sob catching in his throat. "You think we're free out there?" He throws his arm up in frustration, letting it drop to his side.

"No. No, there's no escape from this place," he says, his voice hollow as he raises the gun, pointing it at us.

Thomas raises his hand slowly, trying to calm him. "Gally, listen to me," he says, but Theo steps in front of me, his arm outstretched, protecting me.

"You're not thinking straight," Thomas continues, but Gally shakes his head.

"But we can help you," Thomas pleads. "Just put down the gun."

"I belong to the Maze," Gally says, tears spilling down his face.

"Just put down the gun," Thomas repeats, but it's clear it's too late.

"We all do," Gally whispers, and in a flash, Minho throws his spear at Gally.

"No!" I scream as the loud bang of the gun fills the room. Gally crumples to the floor, the spear lodged in his chest, gasping for breath as he falls to his side.

"Thomas..." Chuck whispers, and I turn just in time to see Chuck's legs give way under him. Thomas reaches out, catching him, gently laying him on the ground. Blood pours from Chuck's chest, staining his shirt red.

"Chuck...?" I gasp, rushing to Thomas's side, desperate to help.

"Look at me, look at me!" Thomas cries, his voice cracking. He shakes Chuck, trying to rouse him. "Chuck, please, hang on!"

Tears prick my eyes as I look down at Chuck, helpless, as the life drains from him.

"Thomas, Thomas..." Chuck whispers, weakly gripping Thomas's shoulder with one hand, the other clutching the small wooden figure.

"No, Chuck, you're gonna give it to them yourself. Remember, I told you that." Thomas pushes the figure back toward Chuck.

"Take it," Chuck insists, his voice barely a whisper. Thomas shakes his head, pushing it back.

"Thank you," Chuck says with effort, his eyes barely open as he shoves the figure into Thomas's hands. "Thank you..."

Chuck's gaze turns upward, and I can't hold back my tears. I quickly wipe them away, but my chest feels hollow as I watch Thomas desperately try to wake Chuck, shaking him and calling his name.

"Chuck? Hey," Thomas says, shaking him harder, but Chuck doesn't respond.

"Come on, wake up!" Thomas cries, his voice breaking. He buries his face in Chuck's chest, sobbing, and I can't help but break down as well.

"Shit!" I yell, slamming my hand onto the nearest table. The sharp edge of a piece of glass juts up, and I feel it cut into my hand. The pain is sharp, but it doesn't compare to the anger building inside me. WICKED. They've taken everything from us.

"Come on, we made it. Come on!" Thomas calls out, his voice desperate, as tears pour down my face. The anger and grief are too much to bear.

I look at Newt, his eyes filled with sadness, but then he turns to me, and I see the worry in his gaze as he watches my clenched fists. Without a word, he steps closer and wraps his arm around me, pulling me against him. I rest my head on his shoulder, tears soaking into his shirt as I let myself lean into him, feeling the weight of everything we've lost.

"God damn it!" Thomas yells in agony, and I look back to see him crying over Chuck's lifeless body. The last door opens, blinding us with sharp light, and I shield my eyes, feeling the harsh sting of the bright sun.

The men usher us out, and I look back at Thomas, still on the floor with Chuck. The pain in my chest tightens, but there's nothing we can do.

As we leave, I feel a sharp pain shoot up my hand, and I groan in discomfort. One of the men is grabbing my wrist, pressing against my cut. I pull away, clutching my hand to my side.

We run outside into the glaring daylight, and all I see is sand stretching endlessly before us. I keep running, my legs moving on autopilot, heading toward the helicopter that waits for us.

"You guys all right?" one of the men asks, pulling off his mask. Thomas jumps into the helicopter first, and the door slams shut behind him.

"Don't worry," he says, giving a signal to the pilot. "You're safe now."

I sit by the window, looking out at the Maze from above. The realization of just how vast it is hits me hard.

"Relax, kid," the man says, and I turn to face him.

"Everything is gonna change," he adds, and my heart clenches.

Before I can respond, Newt pulls me back against him, his arms wrapping tightly around my waist. I lean my head back onto his shoulder and rest my hands over his.

"Everything already has..." I whisper, and he kisses the top of my head as we both look out the window, lost in thought.

"Hey, Y/n?" Minho's voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I look up to see him glancing at me.

"What happened to your hand?" he asks, concern in his voice.

I look down and finally notice the bleeding cut. "I— I hit a piece of glass when I slammed my hand on the table," I explain, trying to downplay it.

"Here," the man says, leaning over and offering me a piece of cloth. "Let me help you with that." I hand it to him, and he ties it around my hand, tightening it gently. The pain shoots through my wrist, but I try to ignore it.

"Get it looked at when we get back," he says. "For now, this should do."

I nod, giving him a small smile before leaning back against Newt, finally feeling a bit of comfort as we head toward the unknown.

The sunset paints the sky, and I let myself slip into a much-needed rest, knowing nothing will ever be the same again.