The First Runner

Scary

Jess POV

"Things are changing. There's no denying that." Gally paced back and forth like a caged animal, his voice laced with frustration. He was working himself up, stirring the tension among the Keepers, who were gathered in a tight circle. "First, Ben gets stung in broad daylight. And then Alby. And now our Greenie here has taken it upon himself... to go into the Maze. Which is a clear violation of our rules."

His words hung in the air like a weight. He wasn't wrong—Thomas had broken the rules. But the way Gally said it, like Thomas had committed some unforgivable sin, made my skin crawl. I glanced at Thomas, who stood to the side, his face a mixture of confusion and defiance. He didn't look scared, though. He looked... determined. I clenched my fists, already feeling my patience start to wane. I knew where Gally was going with this, and I didn't like it.

"Yeah, but he saved Alby's life," Frypan chimed in from the back, his arms crossed over his chest. His voice was steady, but there was an edge to it, like he was trying to keep things calm.

Gally spun around to face him, eyes narrowed into slits. "Did he?" he snapped, his voice rising. "For three years, we've coexisted with these things. And now, you've killed one of them. Who knows what that could mean for us?"

I shot a quick look at Minho, who was standing beside me, arms folded across his chest, and Newt, who was leaning against the wooden railing with that unreadable expression he always wore when things were about to get messy. Thomas had killed a Griever, sure, but it wasn't like I hadn't done it before. My kill count was something I didn't boast about, but Gally knew. And now, he was using Thomas' actions as a weapon to push his agenda.

It was clear what Gally wanted. His eyes glistened with something dangerous, something that made my stomach twist. He wasn't just angry—he was scared. And that fear was twisting him, making him lash out.

"What do you suggest we do?" Newt finally spoke, breaking the heavy silence that had settled over the group. His voice was calm, but I could see the tension in his jaw.

Gally didn't hesitate. "He has to be punished."

There it was. The words I'd been expecting but dreading at the same time. Gally was going to push for something harsh. His tone had shifted from anger to something colder, something calculated. The air was thick with tension as the Keepers erupted into heated whispers and protests, their voices overlapping in a cacophony of opinions. The decision they made here wouldn't just affect Thomas—it would change everything.

I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm, but it wasn't easy. Gally was getting under my skin, and I knew it wasn't just me. Around the circle, I could see the others—Frypan, Winston, Zart, and the rest—looking uncomfortable, shifting in their spots. They didn't like where this was going either, but no one was stepping forward to stop it.

"He killed a Griever!" someone shouted from the back.

"Come on!" others groaned in disbelief.

Newt raised his voice, silencing the crowd. "Minho, Jess. You two were with him. What do you think?"

All eyes turned to us, the weight of the decision heavy on our shoulders. Minho shot me a glance, his face unreadable, before stepping forward.

"I think... in all the time we've been here... only one person has ever killed a Griever before." He paused, letting the weight of his words settle over the group. "When I turned tail and ran, this dumb shank stayed behind to help Alby."

The words hung in the air for a moment, everyone digesting them. Minho's voice was steady, but there was a fire behind his words, a silent defense of Thomas that no one could ignore.