The Maze Changer (A Maze Runner Fanfiction)

Part 3

The glade was quiet that night. Not much was said as they finished their dinners. The younger boys seemed to be the only ones who felt like talking. They'd asked poor Eddie and Gally what they saw until Alby had finally had enough and told them to "slim it, slintheads!" Good thing, too. Gally looked like he was about ready to sock them square on the nose.

"I'm done telling you shanks!" he'd shouted at them, red in the face. "For the last time, I saw a long metal leg poking out from behind one of the walls. That's all!" And with that, he slammed his tray down and stalked off in a huff.

Eddie's reaction was much less social. He'd looked so terrified he'd turned a slight shade of green and Newt insisted he be checked out by the medjacks. "Fat--metal everywhere..." he'd accounted to Alby and Newt, shivering. "Spikes...so many spikes. It's...it's the devil!" That sent a shiver up the spines of the gladers. Eddie refused to say any more about it for the rest of the night and retired to bed as soon as he finished his supper.

Beth's head kept replaying the sounds of the night over and over. Eddie's scream, then his babbling. The terrifying mechanical sounds in the silence, Gally's warning, the screaming gladers as they rushed away from the door. Then, finally, the sound of the door closing for the night. She looked around the Glade and spotted Newt, whose dinner was cut short, headed toward the homestead. She quickly rid herself of her dishes and ran after him.

"Newt! Hey, Newt!" The boy stopped walking and turned to see her nearly caught up with him. He turned away and continued walking.

"I can't talk right now, Beth. Gathering of the Keepers." His voice was somber.

"Fine. I won't keep you. Just please tell me you're not still planning on going out there." She had to keep her pace at a near jog to keep up with him.

"I'm still planning on going out there."

"Newt!" Without thinking, she grabbed his arm and stopped him. He looked down at her hand on his arm and she quickly withdrew. "Eddie compared that thing to the devil! You can't go out there with something like that lurking around every corner." Newt sighed.

"Alright, Queenie. Calm down," Newt tried to reassure her. He began walking again and continued talking. She followed. "Number one: We're about 80 percent sure they only come out in the evening. Number two: Eddie's a big baby. And Number Three: I hate this place. I'm going to find a way out even if it means facing Eddie's idea of Satan."

"You have a death wish," she grumbled back. He only smiled. They reached the door to the homestead and stopped. Beth stared at it uneasily, as if by walking into that gathering Newt was signing over his life to the creatures in the maze.

"Look," he told her, "I have to go in now. Try not to get yourself all worked up over this while I'm gone. Now would be a perfect time for you to go make some friends, huh?" And with a smile he was gone. Heeding his advice, she headed back toward the rest of the gladers and tried to "make friends", which, by the end of the night, she believed was a fairly successful attempt.

.

Early the next morning, Alby walked her to the kitchens so she could try her hand at cooking. She'd already tried slopping, slicing, bagging, and building and hated them all. She thought cooking might be okay. Or, rather, she hoped.

"You've met Frypan, right?" Alby said. "He's the keeper. Sorry you're not stuck with someone less ugly, but--"

"You shuckface," Frypan chaffed. "I'm the best looking shank in this whole stupid place!" The boys laughed, Beth grinned.

"Whatever, man," Alby said. "Just take good care of our Queen." He gave them a small smile and left.

"So, Queenie, have you ever cooked before?"

"Um, I don't remember."

"Oooof course you don't. It's fine. I'll teach ya." Frypan grabbed a couple cartons and started weeding through them to find what he needed.

"So, I'm assuming Frypan isn't your real name..."

"No," he answered into one of the crates. "But my real name is just as ridiculous." He stood upright to face her with his hands full of unprepared food. "Hey, Jake!" he called out.

"What?" a distant voice answered back.

"Come wash this stuff off for breakfast!"

"What's your real name, Frypan?"

"Siggy," he replied with a goofy grin. Beth laughed.

"Stupid, right?" he chuckled.

"No, no," Beth said through gritted teeth. "I...like it." They both roared with laughter.

"Alright. Queenie's a liar. Got it. The pretty ones always are. But that's cool."

"I'm sorry," she said still laughing.

"Just for that," Frypan said, snatching a smock from a hook on the wall, "you get the ugly apron." He tossed it over her head as she laughed even harder. "Well, it looks much better on you than on Jake. But not as good as it looks on Newtie."

"Don't you ever wash these?!" She was grinning from ear to ear.

"That is washed. It's just really ugly."

"It's really this color?"

"Yes, ma'am. Unfortunate isn't it. And it's all tattered."

"I could have sworn somebody just dropped the whole thing some chili or something."

"Well, I bet you there is some chili on there, so you're not wrong."

"Ew!" The two of them laughed. Beth decided she liked Frypan. He was funny. She had high hopes for this job, but by lunch time it was clear that she was not meant to be a cook. She'd burnt all of the bacon, caused a small fire, and managed to make what Frypan said was the most disgusting vegetable soup in the history of vegetable soups.

"Sorry, Queenie," he'd told her. "But I'm going to have to tell Alby to keep you out of my kitchen."

As the neared dinner time, she helped the kid called Jake prepare the vegetables for the night. He chopped carrots and she peeled potatoes. Jake was one of the older boys. Probably about 16. He was tall and Beth thought he was of the more attractive boys in the Glade. He didn't say much, but he kept watching her hands, which made her nervous.

"Am I doing something wrong?" she finally asked him inquisitively.

"Uh, well, not exactly, but, uh--" He rubbed the back of his neck shyly. "It would, uh--if you just angle your wrist a little more, you, uh--" Beth tried to do what he was...attempting...to tell her.

"Is this any better?"

"Yeah. Uh, yeah!" He went back to chopping, but kept watching her potato peeling technique.

"It's easier this way," she told him. "Thank--" She paused, alarmed. Jake stopped chopping. She looked at Jake's face and he looked just as horrified as she did.