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Allie kept steady pace as she run with Newt by her side along the stone pathways towards the Cliff. The sound of shuffling feet echoed up the walls and the red lights of the beetle blades flashed more menacingly in the ivy-the Creators were certainly watching, listening. One way or another, there was going to be a fight. It was clear to Allie that today was the day everyone would see her training in action. Gladers not used to running such distances gasping in huge gulps of air. But no one quit. On and on they ran, with no signs of Grievers.
Finally, they reached the long alley that led to the last turn before the Cliff—a short corridor to the right that branched off like the stem of the letter T. Allie slowed at the corner, then stopped, holding up a hand to tell others to do the same. Newt turned to look at her, a look of horror on his face.
"Do you hear that?" he whispered. Allie crept ahead and peeked around the sharp edge of stone, looking toward the Cliff, she jerked back and turned to face him. "Oh, no," and then they heard it Griever sounds. It was as if they'd been hiding, waiting, and now were coming to life. "There's at least a dozen of them. Maybe fifteen." Newt reached up and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. "They're just waiting for us!"
The Gladers broke out in mummers, scared of the fight that was sure to come. Minho spoke from the back of the group. "Well, we knew we'd have to fight." but the tremor in his voice gave him away-he was just trying to say the right thing.
Thomas had an idea. "Maybe they've already taken a kid back at the Glade. Maybe we can get past them-why else would they just be sitting-" a loud noise from behind cut him off. They spun to see more Grievers moving down the corridor toward them, spikes flaring, metal arms groping, coming from the direction of the Glade.
The enemy was on all sides, blocking them off completely.
The Gladers surged toward, forming a tight group. Allie saw the pack of Grievers between them and the Cliff, spikes extended, their moist skin pulsing in and out. Waiting, watching. The other two groups of Grievers had closed in and stopped just a few dozen feet from the Gladers, also waiting, watching.
They were surrounded. They had no choice now-there was nowhere to go.
The Gladers compressed into a tighter group, everyone facing outward, huddled together in the center of the T intersection. Allie was pressed against Newt and she could feel him trembling. No one said a word. The only sounds were the eerie moans and whirrs of machinery coming from the Grievers, sitting there as if enjoying the little trap, they'd set for the humans. Their disgusting bodies heaved in and out with mechanical wheezes of breath.
Newt turned to look at Allie. "Got any ideas?"
Allie looked around one more time and then took her sword from its case. "Stay in your formation! Have your weapons ready! We will slowly move towards the Cliff."
