Desire ❃ newt

cнapтer 15

For the second night in a row, I went to bed with the haunted image of Ben's face burned into my mind, tormenting me.

How different would things be right now if it weren't for that one boy?

I could almost convince myself I would be completely content, happy and excited to learn my new life, aim for my goal of being a Runner. Almost. Deep down I knew that Ben was only part of my many problems.

But now he was gone, Banished to the world of the Grievers, taken to wherever they took their prey, victim to whatever was done there. Though I had plenty of reasons to despise Ben, I mostly felt sorry for him.

I couldn't imagine going out that way, but based on Ben's last moments, psychotically thrashing and spitting and screaming, he no longer doubted the importance of the Glade rule that no one should enter the Maze except Runners, and then only during the day. Somehow Ben had already been stung once, which meant he knew better than perhaps anyone just exactly what lay in store for him.

That poor guy. That poor, poor guy.

I shuddered and rolled over onto my side. The more I thought about it, being a Runner didn't sound like such a great idea. But, inexplicably, it still called to me.

The next morning, dawn had barely touched the sky before the working sounds of the Glade wakened me from the deepest slumber since I had arrived. I sat up, rubbing my eyes, trying to shake the heavy grogginess. Giving up, I lay back down, hoping no one would bother me.

It didn't last a minute.

Someone tapped my shoulder and I opened my eyes to see Newt staring down at me.

What now?

"Get up, ya lug."

"Yeah, good morning to you, too. What time is it?"

"Seven o'clock, Greenbean," Newt said with a mocking smile. "Figured I'd let ya sleep in after such a rough couple days."

I rolled into a sitting position, hating that I couldn't just lie there for another few hours. "Sleep in? What are you guys, a bunch of farmers?" Farmers—how did I remember so much about them? Once again my memory wipe baffled me.

"Uh ... yeah, now that ya mention it." Newt plopped down beside me and folded his legs up under himself.

He sat quietly for a few moments, looking out at all the hustle-bustle starting to whip up across the Glade. "Gonna put ya with the Track-hoes today, Greenie. See if that suits your fancy more than slicin' up bloody piggies and such."

I was sick of being treated like a baby. "Aren't you supposed to quit calling me that?"

"What, bloody piggies?"

I forced a laugh and shook my head. "No, Greenie. I'm not really the newest Newbie anymore, right? The girl in the coma is. Call her Greenie—my name's Kameron."

Newt leaned back, eyebrows raised. "Burn me."

I ignored him and moved on. "What's a Track-hoe?"

"It's what we call the guys workin' their butts off in the Gardens—tilling, weeding, planting and such."

I nodded in that direction. "Who's the Keeper?"

"Zart. Nice guy, s'long as you don't sluff on the job, that is. He's the big one that stood in front last night."

I didn't say anything to that, hoping that somehow I could go through the entire day without talking about Ben and the Banishment. The subject only made me sick and guilty, so I moved on to something else. "So why'd you come wake me up?"