Desire ❃ newt

cнapтer 27

The Slammer stood in an obscure place between the Homestead and the north Glade wall, hidden behind thorny, ragged bushes that looked like they hadn't been trimmed in ages. It was a big block of roughly cut concrete, with one tiny, barred window and a wooden door that was locked with a menacing rusty metal latch, like something out of the Dark Ages.

Newt took out a key and opened it up, then motioned for Thomas to enter. "There's only a chair in there and nothin' at all for ya to do. Enjoy yourself."

I heard Thomas groan inwardly as he stepped inside and saw the one piece of furniture—an ugly, rickety chair with one leg obviously shorter than the rest, probably on purpose. Didn't even have a cushion.

"Have fun," Newt said before closing the door.

Thomas turned back to his new home and the latch closed and the lock clicked behind him.

Newt's head appeared at the little glassless window, looking through the bars, a smirk on his face. "Nice reward for breakin' the rules. You saved some lives, Tommy, but ya still need to learn—"

"Yeah, I know. Order."

Newt smiled. "You're not half bad, shank. But friends or no, gotta run things properly, keep us buggers alive. Think about that while ya sit here and stare at the bloody walls." And then me and him were gone.

***

The first hour passed, and I felt boredom creep in like rats under the door. By hour number two, I wanted to bang my head against the wall. Two hours after that I started to think having dinner with Gally and the Grievers would beat sitting inside this stupid Homestead. Newt ordered me to sit here and wait for him. To do what? That I didn't know.

I sat and tried to bring back memories, but every effort evaporated into oblivious mist before anything formed.

Thankfully, Chuck arrived with lunch at noon, relieving me from my thoughts.

After passing me some pieces of chicken and a glass of water, he took up his usual role of talking my ear off.

"Everything's getting back to normal," the boy announced. "The Runners are out in the Maze, everyone's working—maybe we'll survive after all. Still no sign of Gally—Newt told the Runners to come back lickety-splickety if they found his body. And, oh, yeah—Alby's up and around. Seems fine— and Newt's glad he doesn't have to be the big boss anymore."

The mention of Alby pulled my attention from my food. I pictured the older boy thrashing around, choking himself the day before. Then I remembered that no one else knew what Alby had said after Newt left the room—before the seizure. But that didn't mean Alby would keep it between us now that he was up and walking around.

Chuck continued talking, taking a completely unexpected turn. "Kameron, I'm kinda messed up. It's weird to feel sad and homesick, but have no idea what it is you wish you could go back to, ya know? All I know is I don't want to be here. I want to go back to my family. Whatever's there, whatever I was taken from. I wanna remember."

I was a little surprised. I'd never heard Chuck say something so deep and so true. "I know what you mean," I murmured.

"I used to cry. Every night."

This made thoughts of Alby leave my mind. "Yeah?"

"Like a pants-wettin' baby. Almost till the day you got here. Then I just got used to it, I guess. This became home, even though we spend every day hoping to get out."

A few minutes passed in silence. I found myself hoping Chuck wouldn't leave. "Hey, Kameron?" Chuck asked. "Do you think I have parents? Real parents?"

I laughed, mostly to push away the sudden surge of sadness the statement caused. "Of course you do, shank. You need me to explain the birds and bees?" My heart hurt—I could remember getting that lecture but not who'd given it to me.

"That's not what I meant," Chuck said, his voice completely devoid of cheer. It was low and bleak, almost a mumble. "Most of the guys who've gone through the Changing remember terrible things they won't even talk about, which makes me doubt I have anything good back home. So, I mean, you think it's really possible I have a mom and a dad out in the world somewhere, missing me? Do you think they cry at night?"

U was completely shocked to realize my eyes had filled with tears. Life had been so crazy since me and Thomas had arrived, I had never really thought of the Gladers as real people with real families, missing them. It was strange, but I hadn't even really thought of myself that way. Only about what it all meant, who'd sent us there, how we'd ever get out.

For the first time, I felt something for Chuck that made me so angry I wanted to kill somebody. The boy should be in school, in a home, playing with neighborhood kids. He deserved to go home at night to a family who loved him, worried about him. A mom who made him take a shower every day and a dad who helped him with homework.

I hated the people who'd taken this poor, innocent kid from his family. I hated them with a passion I didn't know a human could feel. I wanted them dead, tortured, even. I wanted Chuck to be happy.

But happiness had been ripped from our lives. Love had been ripped from our lives.

"Listen to me, Chuck." I paused, calming down as much as I could, making sure my voice didn't crack. "I'm sure you have parents. I know it. Sounds terrible, but I bet your mom is sitting in your room right now, holding your pillow, looking out at the world that stole you from her. And yeah, I bet she's crying. Hard. Puffy-eyed, snotty-nosed crying. The real deal."

Chuck didn't say anything, but I thought I heard the slightest of sniffles.

"Don't give up, Chuck. We're gonna solve this thing, get out of here. I promise on my life I'll get you back to that room of yours. Make your mom quit crying." And I meant it. I felt it burn in my heart.

"Hope you're right," Chuck said with a shaky voice. He showed a thumbs-up sign, then walked out of the room.

I stood up to pace around the little room, fuming with an intense desire to keep my promise. "I swear, Chuck," I whispered to no one. "I swear I'll get you back home."