Nepenthe (TMR FF) UNDER EDITING

Chapter 39

Minho started to ramble about how many Grievers there were waiting for us around the corner, claiming there was at least fifteen. I looked away from the group, stepping back slowly. Chuck was to consumed in the conversation to notice, his eyes wide with fear and anticipation. As subtly as I could, I tiptoed to the opposite corner of which we came. I wasn't going to go far, I just had to get away from all the arguing and what not. I needed some air.

Just as I was about to turn the corner, the sound of metal scrapping against cement made me freeze. My whole body stiffened as I took a breath in, not game enough to look around the corner. Quieter than I was before, I carefully turned around, speed walking back towards the group. That was a whole lot of nope. The Grievers were cornering us. They were like predators catching their prey. When I finally got back to the group, I went straight to Thomas, my hands shaking. He looked at me, concern filling his eyes.

"Emma? Are you alright?" He asked, looking down at me.

I shook my head, placing a shaking finger against my lips. Without a single sound, I pointed at the corner I was just at, gesturing for him to listen. Everyone in the group suddenly went silent, quiet murmurs coming forth after they heard what I did. I looked towards my brother, silently asking him what we were going to do.

Thomas looked towards Newt, desperation clear in his brown eyes. "Got any ideas?"

Newt glanced at me, obviously remembering what I said about me sacrificing himself, and gave me a look, as if to say 'don't even think about it'. Finally he looked back at my brother, and shook his head. "No." His voice was way too shaky for my liking. "I don't understand what they're bloody waitin' for."

No one answered, probably too afraid to move or talk at all. Finally Alby, who I completely forgot was here with us, stepped forward, a look of realisation on his face. "Maybe I should..." He had trailed off, and before anyone could stop him, or even comprehend what he was doing, Alby started walking towards the Grievers at the Cliff.

"Alby?" Newt asked, his eyes widening. "Get back here!"

Without even looking back, Alby broke off into a run, not responding to Newt's hopeless question.

Newt launched forward, his mouth hanging open in nothing but plain shock. "Alby!"

He went to run towards his friend, but Thomas pulled him back, holding him in by his forearms. Newt struggled in his arms, his face contorting in pain as he watched at least six Grievers burst to life, their sole intent to only attack Alby.

"Let go!" Newt screamed, writing in Thomas's grasp. I stepped forward, wrapping my arms around his waist as he continued to struggle.

"Are you nuts? There's nothing you can do!" Thomas shouted at him, his grip tightening.

I buried my face into Newt's heaving chest, tears filling my eyes. No matter how Alby thought of me, he'd forever be a friend. "Please stop. I can't lose you to." I wasn't only referring to Alby, but all the friends I had lost to the Maze. Ethan, Ben, Winston...

The sound of metal against skin and cement continued to fill my ears, as I squeezed my eyes shut, determined to just hold onto Newt and never let him go. Finally, he gave up his struggling and almost collapsed in my arms. I couldn't look at the boy, scared that his face would make me break down. Newt had known Alby a lot longer than I did. I couldn't imagine how he would feel.

"I can't believe it. I can't believe he did that." He whispered, burying his face in the crook of my neck. I nodded silently, gripping the back of his shirt.