Gally Imagines

=FIFTY-ONE= A Matter of Time

Your first thought was, No!  Your second thought was, How?  And your third thought was...

Gally.

As you walked behind Thomas, nearing the group of Gladers still huddled around the Maze Doors, you fought back against the familiar feeling of dread and anxiety rising within you. Somewhere deep inside the pit of your stomach you knew that the elation of freedom was too good to be true, and you inwardly berated yourself for ever having allowed such hope to distort the unsettling reality that you were forced to endure. But you couldn't have helped it if you'd tried. You had wanted that freedom so badly, and the thought of finally being free, of not having to constantly look over your shoulder, of being with Gally, was so wonderful that you had grasped at it, not willing to let go. But now, having done so, you were being forced to watch it slide through your fingers like a handful of dust.

You could make out the boys' low murmuring now, and, despite everything within you telling you to turn and run—to escape back to the blissful ignorance of the few hours before the Maze Doors had reopened your previous fears—you found yourself looking over Thomas' shoulder, searching for the one face in the crowed that would seal this sickening reality in place. And then, as if your very thought summoned him, Thomas moved aside, and there he was.

Dan.

You involuntarily took a quick step back, but even as you did, you realized that something was off with him--and not in the usual way.  Dan was standing amongst the cautious and curious Gladers, but instead of acknowledging them he seemed to be looking through them, as if they didn't fully exist.  The flash of indifference was gone from his usually fiery, insolent eyes.  They were now sunken and shadowed, glazed over with an odd vacancy, dazed as if he was within moments of passing out after receiving a massive blow to the head.  His skin was stark white, like the papery-thin bark of an aspen tree, clammy with what must have been sweat from the sheer terror of being trapped inside those walls, alone.

A disturbingly brutal cut had been slashed diagonally across his forehead--the worst of the other bloody nicks and scrapes that tattered his flesh.  But even with all of this, the thing that held your attention was the large pool of blood seeping through his right side.  Dan's shirt, below the armpit and above the hip bone, was a disturbing mess of scarlet.  Dry and darker old blood, ringed the sticky, fresher red blood nearer to the tear in the cloth where the wound had been inflicted. 

Dan continued to stand where he was, swaying dangerously in exhaustion, then he stumbled forward slightly to catch his balance so as not to drop unmoving to the grass beneath him.  It was that movement that seemed to snap the Gladers out of the stupor they had been in. 

"Clint!" came Alby's voice to your right. "Jeff!"

The two Medjacks appeared from somewhere among the group of boys, heading toward Dan just as he took another stumbled attempt to right himself, but he wasn't quick enough that time, and Jeff caught him just before the ground could.  Clint moved in, sliding beneath the other side of Dan's limp arms, a crimson smear already staining his blue flannel.  

As the three boys slowly made their way toward the Medjack Hut, you felt a hand on your shoulder and jumped despite yourself.  You turned to see Gally staring down at you with an overwhelmed mix of emotions on his face: anger, uneasiness, worry, disbelief, concern.  But beneath it all was the silent question that you could see clearly written in his green eyes.  Are you okay?

That was the breaking point.  You closed your eyes, overcome by a wave of despair, unable to keep in the sob that broke through your lips.  You felt his arms around you then, pulling you into him.  You buried your face in his shirt, desperately trying to hold back the tears that stung your eyes and the sobs that shook you.  Trying to be strong for once, so that Gally didn't have to perpetually bear the burden of your miserable circumstances.  But it was all too much. Dan wasn't supposed to be here, he was supposed to be dead in that Maze, never to be seen or heard from again.  But he wasn't.  He was here.  Back in the Glade.  And it wasn't fair.