The Glader

Barricades

 We didn't know how long we had until the Grievers started showing up. I watched the doors nervously, feeling the hum of fear inside the Glade. We were all going to get killed.

Boys from all trades talked together in low voices, some crying, others staring numbly at nothing. No one knew who would survive the night. I heard some say that no one would at all. The grey sky seemed to mock us, as if saying that nothing would ever be the same again.

Even the grass of the Glade seemed duller, dying in patches from lack of sunlight. Nothing was the same.

Alby, his shoulders slumped, plodded over to me, his eyes dull with desperation. "Everyone's panicking," he sighed, "And I have no clue what to do. We're all going to get killed, Newt. I can't let them spend their last night just waiting for the end." 

I sighed, weighing my options."We give them jobs," I replied. It was how I dealt with difficult emotions. I worked to get my mind off of it. "We give them hope."

"Good that," Alby said, giving a slight half-smile.  Then he cupped his hands around his mouth. "Keepers! To me!" he yelled.

When keepers of every job gathered around us, Alby nudged me. "This is your idea," he whispered, "You tell them shanks what to do."

I nodded and spoke up. "Builders," I called, nodding towards the guy standing in as Keeper for the still-absent Gally, "We're gonna need barricades. One at each door, and a few boards over the homestead windows."

The builder nodded.

"Baggers, try to make sure people don't panic. Help out with the Builders and their barricades."

"Med-jacks," I said, "Get your supplies in check, and make sure you're ready for anyone to come in. We're gonna have a lot of injuries if the Grievers come in."

"Cooks. Get some dinner ready and distribute it. There's no reason we shouldn't eat while we're working." One last meal, just in case. I added in my head.

"Slicers. Get the animals the Bloodhouse and secure it. Make sure that no animals can escape and run into a Griever or something."

Winston nodded.

"Sloppers, you're going to..." I paused. What were the sloppers going to do? "Why don't you... help the builders gather loose items for barricades?"

"Track-hoes, you, the Mapmakers and the Store-jacks try to get any supplies and non-perishable food inside the homestead- you know, in case we get trapped in there."

Then I turned to Minho. "We're gonna need to defend the homestead. You and the runners pass out weapons to the Gladers."

Minho met my eyes. I could see from his expression that he knew what I was doing- that I knew none of this would help. Grievers could break down barricades and weapons didn't do much against them. And if they broke into the homestead, as they were likely to do, there wouldn't be much need for food and supplies. We'd all be dead.
But Minho nodded anyway, not voicing his concerns. After the other keepers walked away to do their tasks, I pulled him aside.

I had a special assignment for him.