Final Battle

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The shouts of furious gladers echoes around me, as everyone begins to charge. Taking one last deep breath, I close my eyes, and then I run, yelling at the top of my lungs as I charge the hideous beast.

I dive to the left, narrowly avoiding having my head severed from my body by one of the creature's flailing blades. I repeatedly drive my knife into the creature, but it seems to have little effect. I continue stabbing it anyway, in hopes of doing some damage. Suddenly, the creature let's out a terrible hiss, sluggishly taking a step backwards. Confused, I wonder what I've done different. I realize then, that I must've hit one of the creature's bulbs.
So it does have a weakness.

I continue jabbing at the bulbs, popping them one by one as the creature continues to slow. It hisses and moans, a bone chilling sound that vaguely reminds me of the agonized screams of the gladers as they were mauled by the grievers. A sound that has haunted my dreams since we left the maze. Finally, I shatter the last bulb, panting as I watch the monster collapse to the ground. I'm covered in small cuts and bruises, but nothing major. Once again my small frame has made me agile and kept me safe. A breathe a small sigh of relief, but I know we are not out of danger yet.

The scene around me is absolute chaos, lighting bolts strike around the battles, both gladers and monsters sometimes a little to close. One monster is hit directly, burning it, and a hole in the ground, just inches from where a glader stands.

Frantically, I check my watch, ten minutes.

We've got to get out of the lighting, or soon, we'll all be nothing but ashes. I look around for any cover with in reach, but find nothing, only the boxes where the monsters came from. Then I have an idea.

Waving my hands, I manage to capture Newt's attention, "Head for the Boxes!!!" I scream, my voice barely audible over all the noise. Newt nods, and takes off running followed closely by Minho, who must've figured out our plan. I sprint too, barely managing to avoid being struck by the lighting.

"Get in!" Newt yells, waiting outside the box to help me in. I jump in, waiting for Newt before pulling the door shut above us.

"This is shucking insane." Minho says, yelling to be heard.

"You can bloody say that again." Newt shouts back.

We sit in the dark box, having nothing to do but wait for the time to be up. There is no light, only the faint glow of our watches to help us see. It's terrifying, just sitting here, listening to the crack of the Lightning and the screams of its victims. I can't wait to get out of here.

"You ok Love?" Newt asks, his voice close by as his hand finds mine in the dark.

"Yeah I'm fine." Minho replies, his laughter echoing through the small space. I wish I could joke in times like this. I guess he's feeling better with the prospect of getting Skylar back so close. I'm sickened to think that WICKED might go back on its promise, but I can't have false hope.

"I wasn't bloody talking to you." Newt scoffs, "Mallory, how are you?" He repeats, exaggerating my full name.

"I'm ok." I respond, my voice shaking a little when I speak. I impulsively check my watch once again. Three minutes.

"You think we should check and see if anything happened?" I ask, holding up my glowing watch. We have no idea if anyone else made it, or if the safe haven had magically appeared, but the screams had been eerily cut off.

"Why not?" Minho answers, and I hear the edge of the box begin to crack open.

"On three." Newt says, joining in the effort to open the box. I crouch, standing up as much as possible in the tiny space. I put my hands on the edge, preparing to throw it open.

"One."

"Two."

"Three."

On three, we throw the lid open, revealing a grizzly scene of burnt and bloody gore, spread across the field, both people and monster lying dead. Then, I notice a strange whirr filling the air, buzzing louder even than the storm. I glance up, scanning the dark skies before finally spotting it, a large helicopter like object, flying just feet above our heads.

"There!" I shout, pointing at the flying contraption. We take off running, sprinting full speed towards the opening door on the back of the machine. Suddenly, I spot Skylar's backpack lying near by. With only a moments hesitation, I head for the backpack, grabbing it before starting back towards the craft.

"Hurry!!" Newt shouts, leaning over the now closing door as gladers continue to pile on, jumping to reach the landing inside. "Jump!!"

I reach the hatch just as it is about six feet off the ground, and lifting quickly. With all my remaining strength, I jump as high as I can, barely getting a hold on the side of the door. The craft lifts higher off the ground, leaving me dangling in mid-air as the doors continue to shut.

"Help!!" I scream, panicking as my hands begin to slip. Glancing down, fear bubbles inside me at the sight of the now nearly twenty foot drop. Newt grabs me by the backpack, dragging me up just seconds before the doors close. Gasping, I collapse into his arms, too tired to move another inch.

"I can't believe you went back for the bloody backpack." Newt breathes.

I just ignore him and look around, counting to see who made it. He doesn't need to know my reasons.

Total, I count sixteen gladers, along with about ten people from group B, Jorge, and Brenda. Ashely is no where to be seen. We lost a lot, but more survived than I could have ever hoped. Fortunately, Minho, and Thomas are among those who made it. Unfortunately, so are Teresa, Jessica, Aris, and James. Of course.

"Congratulations." A voice says, from behind us. I whip my head around, just in time to see a white-clad WICKED official with a clip board.

"You've successfully completed the scorch trials."

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