The next few days went by.
I went into the Maze every day with Minho and Thomas. Running through it, memorizing its patterns. Mapping it.
Then one day, we saw a Griever in broad daylight.
It didn't seem intent on hunting us. Actually, it went straight past us, not even sparing us a glance. With a single look between the three of us, we went after it. We made sure to stay far behind it, in case it changed its mind and decided to kill us. But it didn't stop, and sure enough, it went straight off the Cliff. And disappeared.
The question was where did it actually go.
It couldn't have just disappeared. There must be a hole or something, hidden somehow.
If we wanted out, we would have to go through it.
I turned to the boys. "Should we just go through it now, and see what's there before sending everyone else down there?"
Minho stared at the space, frowning. "No. I doubt we'll be able to get back out, and besides, what if there's a ton of shuck Grievers waiting on the other side?"
"That's true." I groaned. If there were Grievers on the other side, which there surely was, we'd all be dead. Shuck, what kind of evil Creators had made these creatures? Giant slugs that stung you and made you go crazy?
We went back to the Glade and drew the maps. I left Minho and Thomas to study the map patterns by themselves. Maybe I was an idiot to seek out Newt after all that was happening between us, but that was exactly what I did.
Maybe it was a good thing Chuck stopped me before I found him.
For once, the kid wasn't giggling like a little girl. But he was smiling. As usual these days. "What'cha doing?"
"I'm looking for--" I stopped myself just in time. "Why? Because I'm not going to help you spy on someone klunking again."
Chuck stared at me accusingly. "You were looking for Newt, weren't you?"
"So what if I was?" I retorted defensively.
Chuck started to smile again. "Don't deny it. You like him."
"No." There was the automatic answer once again. "How would you know, shank? Have you ever liked someone?" The answer was obviously no. He was only about twelve, and if WICKED had taken him a few years ago, he wouldn't have had a chance for any of that klunk. But I smirked, wanting to annoy him as much as he liked to annoy me. "What is your type, anyway? Nine-year-old girls in pink dresses and pigtails?"
Chuck watched me suspiciously. "No, they have to be at least twelve. But you're just trying to change the subject, aren't you? I think that you two'd make a good couple. You should get together."
My jaw dropped to the ground. "No!" The horror must have been evident in my voice, because Chuck just smiled even more. "He's the bloody leader, Chuck! He doesn't have time for klunk like--"
"You're even starting to talk like him," Chuck sniggered. "Come on, get together. If only to make old Chuckie happy."
I gave him an exasperated look. "That way, we'll never find a way out of this place."
He looked at me sidelong. "You think we can actually find a way out?"
I ruffled his hair. "Maybe."
For a moment, he was silent. I was amazed at how quickly he had gone from annoying and giggly to serious. Then he said, "Do you remember your parents?"
I was shocked. "No." Of course I didn't. I didn't remember anything. "Do you?"
He shook his head. "I mean, I know I must have them, and that they miss me, wherever they are. But if we escape, then maybe I can find them."
I looked at him. "Maybe. We'll get out. I promise."
He hesitated before nodding. He turned without a word and walked away.
I knew I would have to do anything possible to keep my promise.
§ § §
The Grievers changed their minds the next day.
Like the three of us had done for the past few days, we ran the Maze for a few hours, trying to figure out what pattern differences there were. Then we followed another Griever, just to be sure it was going to jump through what Minho had dubbed as the Griever hole. Sure enough, it pitched itself right off the edge, falling quickly like the sun, and disappeared.
"Right, then," Minho said. "We've learned some pretty useful klunk over the past few days. I say we--"
He broke off at the sight of something behind me.
I froze, knowing I could be dead within seconds. It didn't take a genius to know what it was. I could hear it's nasty body squelching on the ground.
Don't move, Thomas mouthed at me.
At the same time, Minho said quietly, "All right, shank. Walk over to us slowly. Whatever you do, don't panic."
I chose to take Minho's advice. The thing was getting near me; I could feel it. But the question was, was it going for me, or the Cliff?
It had to be the Cliff. That was where all its friends had been going for the past week.
Wrong.
As soon as I reached the boys, the Griever gained speed. Towards us.
"What do we do now?" I muttered to Minho through the corner of my mouth. I felt like such an idiot, standing there while the monster came towards us.
My legs started moving just as Minho screamed, "What do you think, shuck-face? Run!"
We ran, barely staying ahead of the Griever. No. No. I couldn't die. Not here, not like this. Not when we might be close to finding a way out of the Maze. I needed to make sure Chuck got out and found his mom. He deserved to be a normal kid with parents. We all did. Not part of some crazy experiment we didn't even know the purpose of. I needed to help Chuck out of here. I needed to get Newt out of here.
Adrenaline pulsed through my veins, and a burst of speed sent me hurtling forward. Behind me, the Griever let out an unearthly moan. I could hear its metal instruments clanking against each other.
"The Doors will close in a few minutes!" Minho roared.
The Doors.
Shuck.
If we didn't make it to the Glade in a few minutes, we'd be locked out and stung. If we didn't run fast enough, we'd be stung. We had no choice. No choice but to run, if we wanted to live. And yes, I did. At the moment, that was all I shucking cared about.
Just when my legs started to feel like jelly, my lungs like they were on fire, I spotted it.
The exit.
And that was when the grinding noise started.
I glimpsed the crowd of Gladers by the closing Door. They didn't seem to have seen us yet; they were murmuring silently among themselves. One boy stood apart from the others. Even from here, I could see the fear etched across his face. It was the same fear I'd seen when Alby had been stung.
The pain on his face tore into my heart.
I ran faster.
Behind me, the Griever let out a roar that reverberated off the walls and through my bones.
"There they are!"
Chuck's voice rang out, high and scared.
Newt's head snapped up.
He saw me.
I could barely focus on anything other than the thought that I needed to get away from this Griever. Out of the Maze. Back into the Glade. To him.
I hurtled forward, running faster than I'd ever run in my life.
