The First Runner

Officially lost it

Jess' POV

"Gally... it doesn't feel right, man."

Winston's voice broke the tense silence, cutting through the stillness like a blade. His words hung in the air, heavy with uncertainty. Around us, the Glade seemed almost eerily calm, but the tension in the air was palpable. Three Gladers dragged Thomas and Teresa toward the doors, Thomas pretending to be unconscious as part of our plan. From where I stood with Newt, Minho, and Chuck, we had a clear view of the scene unfolding.

Thomas was a good actor. I could tell the boys hauling him had no clue he was faking it. But my heart was pounding anyway, the risk of all this going sideways gnawing at the edges of my nerves. This was insane, I thought, trying to keep my breathing steady. How had it come to this point? When did we lose control? We were supposed to be a team, but Gally's twisted sense of leadership had turned half the Gladers against us.

"Yeah, what if Thomas is right?" Jeff's voice joined Winston's. He sounded cautious, like he wasn't entirely sure he should be speaking up, but the doubt was creeping in. The more people questioned Gally, the more cracks appeared in his authority. I wasn't sure if that made me feel better or worse.

Frypan came closer, casting a wary glance at Gally, then at the rest of us. He wasn't much of a talker, but you could always see his thoughts swirling behind his eyes. Even he didn't look convinced anymore.

"We are home, okay?" Gally snapped, his voice sharper than usual. The frustration was rolling off him in waves. "I don't wanna have to cross any more names off that wall." His eyes flicked toward the stone walls where we had all carved the names of the dead. I followed his gaze, the weight of it settling in my chest. So many names. So many people gone.

But are we really home? I thought bitterly. How could Gally believe that? This wasn't home. It was a prison.

"You really think banishing us is gonna solve anything?" Teresa's voice cut through the moment, her sharp question pulling all eyes back to her.

"No." Gally replied flatly, his face twisted with a strange sense of conviction. "But this isn't a banishing. It's an offering."

An offering? I felt my stomach turn. What the hell does he think he's doing? The thought of an offering made me sick. We weren't sacrifices. We were people—kids—just trying to survive. Gally had officially lost it. There was no doubt in my mind anymore.

"What? Wait! Gally, what are you doing?" Teresa's voice rose in panic as one of the boys started tying her to the pole. She struggled, but they didn't stop. The fear in her voice sent chills down my spine.

"You really think I'm gonna let Thomas back into the Maze after what he's done?" Gally spat, his gaze flicking between Teresa and Thomas, full of hatred. "Look around you! Look at our Glade! This is the only way. And when the Grievers get what they came here for... everything goes back to the way it was."

The way it was? I wanted to scream. Nothing's going back to the way it was! Gally's delusions were running wild. The Glade had never been a paradise. It was just a cage with better scenery. How could he not see that?

"Are you listening to this?" Teresa shouted, her voice tinged with desperation. She looked around at the boys gathered around Gally, trying to appeal to their senses. "Why are you all just standing there? He's crazy!"

"Shut up!" Gally's anger flared, his face twisting with rage. His grip on control was slipping, and I could see it in his eyes. But no one moved. Not yet.

"If you stay here, the Grievers are going to come back! They're gonna keep coming back, and they're gonna keep coming back... until you're all dead!" Teresa screamed, her voice rising in panic. She wasn't wrong. I had seen enough of WICKED's games to know that they wouldn't stop until they had what they wanted. And right now, what they wanted was us dead.

"Shut up! Tie him up!" Gally shouted, his voice almost frantic now. "Do you hear me? I said tie him up!"

The two boys moved to pick Thomas up, but they hesitated. I could see the doubt creeping into their faces, the hesitation in their movements. It was only a split second, but it was enough. Now.

Thomas sprang to life, knocking one of the boys out cold with a single punch. Minho and I darted forward, taking out the other two while Newt cut Teresa free. Chuck was right there with us, quick as ever, ready to back us up.

"You're full of surprises, aren't you?" Gally's voice was low, dangerous, his eyes locked on Thomas like a predator watching its prey.

Thomas stood tall, meeting Gally's gaze head-on. "You don't have to come with us," he said, his voice calm but firm. "But we are leaving. Anyone else who wants to come, now is your last chance."

The silence that followed felt like it stretched on forever. Gally's face was a mask of fury and disbelief, but the Gladers around him were shifting, glancing at each other, murmuring under their breath. The spell was breaking.

"Don't listen to him!" Gally's voice cracked. "He's just trying to scare you!"

"No," Thomas said, shaking his head. "I'm not trying to scare you. You're already scared. I'm scared. But I'd rather risk my life out there than spend the rest of it in here. We don't belong here. This place isn't our home. We were put here. We were trapped here. At least, out there, we have a choice. We can make it out of here. I know that."

I watched the Gladers closely, their faces torn between fear and hope. Thomas was right, I thought. We didn't belong here. None of us did. He was giving them a choice. The one thing WICKED had taken away from us.

Winston was the first to step forward, then Frypan, then Jeff. Slowly, more and more of them joined us, leaving Gally standing alone with only a handful of loyal followers by his side.

"Gally, it's over," Thomas said, his voice filled with finality. "Just come with us."

But Gally just shook his head, the stubbornness in his eyes burning like fire. He wasn't coming. He'd made his choice.

"Good luck against the Grievers," Gally sneered, his bravado crumbling just enough for me to see the fear underneath.

As we turned to leave, the door looming ahead of us, I felt a mix of dread and hope. We were finally making our move. We were finally taking a stand. But the real battle was just beginning.

And I wasn't sure we were ready for it.