For As Long As I Can Remember

Three Days

Alby was first to the body. It seemed to take a few long seconds for the rest of the gladers to clue in but they then too swarmed the body. There were shouts from some: anger, fear, and confusion. Others just stayed silent glued to the ground upon which they stood frozen in time. None of these shouts were from Newt. Minho pushed through the crowd, throwing other boys to the ground, until he got to the middle where he saw Newt. His tall body was bent over itself; face down in the dirt hidden by his hair. Minho fell to his knees beside Alby with his breaths ragged.
"Newt!" Minho yelled flipping the other boy onto his back. "Please Newt!" He begged pushing his hair out of his face to reveal the dirt stained face was also covered in cuts and bruises, on the cusp of formation. Clint scrambled onto the scene with eyes wide and chest heaving. He pressed his two first fingers into Newt's neck.
"He's still breathing." He told Alby. Alby nodded and instructed Minho to take hold of Newt's middle section while he held the head and shoulders and Clint got the feet. They transported him quickly and efficiently to the health hut. Here they lay Newt sprawled out along a bed. This is when they all noticed his leg. It was bent out of order, crushed together and twisted out at a disturbingly wrong angle. Minho caught his breath as Clint pulled out a long wooden board that would be used as a splint and rope to tie it on. Gally came running in and so did Fry. They were here to help but all Minho wanted was for them to be gone. They gripped his leg and as they began their best attempts at moving back into place Minho couldn't look. He felt his stomach willing to give up it's contents and he doubled over. Alby was there to help him within seconds. Turning him away didn't help he could still hear the crunching of Newt's bones. He couldn't do it. He had to leave. He pushed Alby away and ran out; past the gladers who stood outside watching with varying expressions, through the dead heads, and into the hut deep within them.

It was some time later, hours maybe, Minho couldn't be sure. The time had passed him by as an abstract concept as he sat with the uncovered fire juice jug Newt had hid in the dirt under the table. He finally took its lid off and dumped it onto the replica, soaking it in liquid, and the ground, leaving trails like snakes through the dessert. Then he stood above it all, glass jug lay shattered upon the ground, with the rocks depicting section four and eight in his hands. He struck them together, not yet sparking enough to catch the fire juice. Alby came in, distraught already, only to witness this scene. He tore the rocks from a tear stained Minho and threw them to the ground. With his hands upon his shoulder he started to shout:

"Minho, stop it! Stop this."

Minho pushed him back hard with a stern expression. Then he bent and grasped for the rocks.

"Stop!" Alby rushed forward pinning Minho against the wall. Minho lifted the rock in hand to Alby's skull. "I need you." Alby said, his voice horse yet softer than Minho had ever heard it before. He dropped the rock onto the ground letting it roll out of reach. Alby continued, "I need you to be okay. I can't have both of my best men out of commission in this time of crisis."

Minho looked at his hard worn shoes. His Adam's apple bobbing with each violent inhale of air.

"Minho please." Alby begged, "You have to keep it together. For the glade." He paused and swallowed hard, "For Newt."

Minho felt his stomach lurch. "I can't-" He started, fumbling his words as they came out violently, "I can't do that! How can I do that? This is my fault, Alby." His words broke and his fists balled, "I should've stopped it. I was supposed to keep an eye on him. I failed. I couldn't keep him safe."

Alby let his hands drop from Minho's shoulders and Minho looked up for the first time at his face. His eyes were not much better than his own. Alby had been crying too. In some twisted way that was comforting.
"It's not your fault." Alby said slowly as if he was trying to convince himself of the same thing. Minho had not thought of the guilt that must be residing inside Alby until that moment. He wasn't the only one that- he stopped himself- he wasn't the only one that really liked Newt.