Stolen [The Maze Runner Fanfiction]

XIX. Everything to lose

Sky's POV

No. No I will not die here, not like this.
I am stronger than that. I hear the grievers distantly in the maze. I need to think, if I'm going to survive the night, I've got to use my brain. I push away the thoughts of my friends and stand, rubbing my temples with my fingers.

I clear all of the fear, doubt, and shock out of my mind, I need to be able to think clearly. what do I know about grievers? I know what they look like, and that is about it, but that will not be enough. I need something more, a memory?

Ever since I came up in the box, I've remembered nothing, just like everyone else. I search my mind anyways. As expected I come to what feels like a wall, a wall blocking out my memories. You cannot go around it, or over it, or under it, believe me I've tried. So this time when I reach the wall, where my memories hide, I try something different. Instead of trying to go around it, I try and push through it.

I sit down, close my eyes and concentrate. I focus hard on the memory of the griever, and something starts to tickle the back of my mind. I can feel the memory on the tip of my brain, and I push harder trying to grasp the memory. The pain it causes is unbearable, almost.

If I'm going to survive I need this memory, so I push through the pain and force the memory to come back. To my surprise it does.

I'm siting in room, like a classroom, watching a screen near the front. Someone, some sort of teacher I'm guessing, is pointing to the screen. People sit around me, but their faces are nothing but a blur of color.

On the screen is a picture. A picture of a griever. But the griever is sliced open revealing the machinery inside, what appears to be an engine turns causing the arms and legs to move. The creature is tied down, an oily substance oozing out of its skin as the motor turns. The teacher begins talking as the screen goes dark.

Then the memory recedes, leaving me alone in the maze, with a dull headache. Despite my current predicament, I smile, I just shucking remembered something! But I don't have time to celebrate or try to bring back more. Instead I think about the memory, trying to come up with anything useful that will help me survive the night. Oil. Grievers are machines, and they run on oil.

A smile lights up my face as I consider my plan. It will be all or nothing, but really what have I got to lose? Only Everything. I think to myself as I take inventory of my supplies.

I have my knife, a bottle of water I had in my hand, my backpack, which contains a notebook, a pen and the pack of matches I never gave back from the bonfire. Ok I can do this I think as I start on my plan.

I've never ran this section of the maze, but the principle is the same, the main corridors don't move, only the outer ones. I jog down one of the corridors to the left, it ends in a sharp left corner. perfect. I walk to the end of the corridor and start cutting off three foot sections of ivy. Once I have about twenty sections, I split them in half, piling half in a heap behind me. The other half I take, and with my knife, begin to sharpen the ends into spear points. I work as quickly as I can, hearing the grievers growing ever closer. I knick myself with the knife a few times, but if that's the worst injury I get tonight, I'll be thrilled.

Finally I have them all completed. I can hear the grievers moaning, they are close now. I walk over to the pile, pulling the matches out of my bag. I strike one, all or nothing, I take a deep breath and drop the match.