Desire ❃ newt

cнapтer 23

I sat frozen in my chair.

Gally's crazy. He's completely insane . But the thought only increased my worries. Insane people could really be capable of anything.

The Council members stood or sat in silence, seemingly as shocked as I at what they'd just seen.

Newt and Winston finally let go of Minho; all three of them sullenly walked to their chairs and sat down.

"He's finally whacked for good," Minho said, almost in a whisper. I couldn't tell if he'd meant for the others to hear him.

"Well, you're not the bloody saint in the room," Newt said. "What were you thinking? That was a little overboard, don't ya think?"

Minho squinched up his eyes and pulled his head back, as if he were baffled by Newt's question. "Don't give me that garbage. Every one of you loved seeing that slinthead get his dues, and you know it. It's about time someone stood up to his klunk."

"He's on the Council for a reason," Newt said.

"Dude, he threatened to break my neck and kill Thomas! The guy is mentally whacked, and you better send someone right now to throw him in the Slammer. He's dangerous."

I couldn't have agreed more.

"Maybe he had a good point," Winston said, almost too quietly.

"What?" Minho asked, mirroring my thoughts exactly.

Winston looked surprised at the acknowledgment that he'd said anything. His eyes darted around the room before he explained. "Well ... he has been through the Changing—Griever stung him in the middle of the day just outside the West Door. That means he has memories, and he said the Greenie looks familiar. Why would he make that up?"

I thought about the Changing, and the fact that it brought back memories. The idea hadn't occurred to me before, but would it be worth it to get stung by the Grievers, go through that horrible process, just to remember something? I pictured Ben writhing in bed and remembered Alby's screams. No way.

"Winston, did you see what just happened?" Frypan asked, looking incredulous. "Gally's psycho. You can't put too much stock in his rambling nonsense. What, you think Thomas here is a Griever in disguise?"

"Can I say something now?" Thomas asked, frustration raising the volume of his voice. "I'm sick of you guys talking about me like I'm not here."

Newt glanced up at him and nodded. "Go ahead. This bloody meetin' can't be much more screwed up."

"I don't know why Gally hates me. I don't care. He seems psychotic to me. As for who I really am, you all know just as much as I do. But if I remember correctly, we're here because of what I did out in the Maze, not because some idiot thinks I'm evil."

Someone snickered and Thomas quit talking.

Newt nodded, looking satisfied. "Good that. Let's get this meeting over with and worry about Gally later."

"We can't vote without all the members here," Winston insisted. "Unless they're really sick, like Alby."

"For the love, Winston," Newt replied. "I'd say Gally's a wee bit ill today, too, so we continue without him. Thomas, defend yourself and then we'll take the vote on what we should do with you."

"I didn't do anything wrong. All I know is I saw two people struggling to get inside these walls and they couldn't make it. To ignore that because of some stupid rule seemed selfish, cowardly, and... well, stupid. If you want to throw me in jail for trying to save someone's life, then go ahead. Next time I promise I'll point at them and laugh, then go eat some of Frypan's dinner."

"Here's my recommendation," Newt said. "You broke our bloody Number One Rule, so you get one day in the Slammer. That's your punishment. I also recommend we elect you as a Runner, effective the second this meeting's over. You've proven more in one night than most trainees do in weeks. As for you being the buggin' Keeper, forget it." He looked over at Minho. "Gally was right on that count—stupid idea."

The Keeper didn't seem surprised, but argued all the same. "Why? He's the best we have—I swear it. The best should be the Keeper."

"Fine," Newt responded. "If that's true, we'll make the change later. Give it a month and see if he proves himself."

Minho shrugged. "Good that."

I quietly sighed in relief. I still wanted to be a Runner—which surprised me, considering what I had just heard Thomas went through out in the Maze.

Newt glanced around the room. "Okay, we had several recommendations, so let's give it a go-round —"

"Oh, come on," Frypan said. "Just vote. I vote for yours."

"Me too," Minho said.

Everyone else chimed in their approval, filling

Newt looked at him. "We don't need your vote, but tell us what's bonkin' around your brain."

Winston gazed at Thomas carefully, then back to Newt. "It's fine with me, but we shouldn't totally ignore what Gally said. Something about it—I don't think he just made it up. And it's true that ever since Thomas got here, everything's been shucked and screwy."

"Fair enough," Newt said. "Everyone put some thought into it—maybe when we get right nice and bored we can have another Gathering to talk about it. Good that?"

Winston nodded.

Thomas groaned. "I love how you guys are just talking about me like I'm not here."

"Look, Tommy," Newt said. "We just elected you as a buggin' Runner. Quit your cryin' and get out of here. Minho has a lot of training to give you."

"What about my punishment?"

"Tomorrow," Newt answered. "The wake-up till sunset."

The meeting was dismissed and everyone except Newt and Minho left the room in a hurry. Newt hadn't moved from his chair, where he sat jotting notes.

"Well, that was good times," he murmured.

Minho walked over and playfully punched Thomas in the arm. "It's all this shank's fault."

Thomas punched him back. "Keeper? You want me to be Keeper? You're nuttier than Gally by a long shot."

Minho faked an evil grin. "Worked, didn't it? Aim high, hit low. Thank me later."

A knock on the opened door grabbed his attention—he turned to see who it was. Chuck stood there, looking like he'd just been chased by a Griever.

"What's wrong?" Newt asked, standing up. The tone of his voice only heightened my concern.

Chuck was wringing his hands. "Med-jacks sent me."

"Why?"

"I guess Alby's thrashing around and acting all crazy, telling them he needs to talk to somebody." Newt made for the door, but Chuck held up his hand.

"Um ... he doesn't want you."

"What do you mean?"

Chuck pointed at me. "He keeps asking for her."