A Way Back - The Maze Runner (♡Newt) UNDER EDITING/REWRITE

Chapter 9

Edited: 11-12-24

~.~.~

Cally

Clint and Jeff greeted me upon entering the Med-room. The two boys were the only ones occupying the space, sitting on one of the many beds that stood lined up against the far wall. The rectangular room took up a big part of the second floor, probably if they had to take care of a lot of Gladers at ones during emergencies. Making me wonder if something like that had happened before.
     "I see you survived Minho's revenge?" Clint's question held a mocking undertone, and although Jeff did snicker at his Keeper's words I couldn't quite make out if he'd meant it as a joke or not.
     "Yeah, kinda..." I started a bit hesitantly, rubbing the back of my neck. Not knowing what else to say on the subject.
     "Learned your lesson then, Greenie?" I nodded in response to Jeff's question, the guy seemed way too amused by the whole situation and giving me the feeling this wasn't the first incident with the Keeper of the Runners.
     "Jeff watched the whole thing from the top of the stairs," Clint called out his friend, "Way too impressed at how long you lasted if you ask me. 'That Shank could be the best Runner the Glade has ever seen.'" This time, Clint did not hold back on the mocking as he mimicked Jeff's words.
     "Clint!" The guy bit at his Keeper, embarrassment creeping into his features. "That's not what I said."
     Clint shrugged, rolling his eyes, "Close enough."
     My eyes shifted from Clint to Jeff and back a few times, a tension in the air I wasn't sure had really anything to do with me hanging between them.
     "Right." I broke the silence, happy to change the subject. "Can Bark come in with me? Or is that not hygienic enough?" The two Med-Jacks exchanged a quick look, seeming to forget about whatever was going on before Jeff shrugged.
     "Let her in. It's not like the hygiene in this place is that great anyway. Just keep her off the beds." Wanting confirmation from the Keeper I looked over at Clint, who nodded ones to confirm Jeff's statement. Bark's nails softly scraped against the wooden floor after I'd let her in, closing the door behind her.
     I plopped down on the bed opposite from the two, Bark joining at my feet. "So, what's the plan for today?"
     "First, we show you around," Clint started, getting up from the bed. "Then we'll practice."
     "See if you've got it in you." Jeff added, following his Keeper's example and getting of the bed.
     "Okay, well, let's get started then, shall we?" I followed the two, not really feeling up for any of it, I'd much rather crawl back into bed and ignore the world around me, but knowing I would have to get through this day as smoothly as possible, I didn't let them notice.
     Showing me around didn't take very long in the one room. Against the wall opposite from the wall lined with beds stood a few desks and cupboards with supplies sorted into every drawer. Different kinds of bandages, adhesive tape, wound dressings, sponges, special stuff for burn care, and even needles and wire to stitch people up. One single drawer drew my attention. The only thing it it being neatly organised rows and rows of what seemed like see-through EpiPens, a sharp, capped needle on one side, and a big orange button on the other. Every single one of them already filled with a sickly green liquid substance I'd never seen before.
     "What's in those?" I reached out to touch one, thinking better of it and just settled for pointing at the things instead.
     "That's the Grieve serum. We get them with the weekly supplies." Clint answered while taking one out of the drawer, showing it to me.
     "What does it do?"
     "When someone's stung by a Griever, we inject it, and it cures them." While he spoke, he brought it to his leg with the needle side down and pretended to press the button.
     "Ah, okay, sure." I thought about his words for a moment, now he said it I did remember something from the movies. People who got stung got sick and started to freak out and almost die. Or, well, died, I don't remember there being a third option. The image of some guy covered in black and green veins squirming on the ground and screaming in pain came to mind, making an uneasy anxiety stir my stomach.
     "What exactly does it cure them from?"
     Clint and Jeff exchanged a haunted look, obviously not font of the memories that question called back. "The Griever's sting." Jeff answered matter of factually.
     I huffed, resisting the urge to roll my eyes, "well, obviously. But what does that mean? What does a Griever sting do that it needs..." I gestured towards the drawer of syringes, "all of that?"
     "Short version?" Clint started reluctantly, "we're not sure. All we know it is painful and if the Shank pulls through they come out jacked in the head." Seeing my confused and worried expression at his answer Clint continued. "Don't worry, Greenie. Mostly only Runners get stung, so as long as you don't follow Jeff's advise," Clint send his friend a glare, who threw up his hands in frustration in response, "and stay here in the Glade, you're good." He finished, his attention back with me.
     I nodded, smiling at him with pursed lips, "noted." With that, Clint put the Grieve Serum back in the drawer and ended the topic.
     I considered the new information, or, well, not entirely new information. More a confirmation of something I'd hoped had only been added to the movies for some extra tension and danger to the story. The more I learned about this place the more I wanted to get the fuck back home and the more I questioned my best friend's taste in movies. I mean, who the fuck thinks torturing a bunch of children with killer bugs, a giant death trap and monster slugs is entertaining?
I shook my head again to stop the thoughts from spiraling further into the injustice of it all.. Or the surreality of being forced to live through it... Or the crushing homesickness that caught up to me whenever I stopped moving an started to really think-
     "You good, Greenie?" Jeff broke me out of my thoughts.
     "Mm?" I looked up at him, blinking to force the tears that had welled up in my eyes back down. "Yeah, just thinking." I forced a laugh before changing the subject. "Anyways, you guys actually just sit here until there's someone who needs you?"
     Clint and Jeff exchanged a look before they nodded at the exact same time. "Yeah, basically."      Cliff answered. "Most of the Med-jacks do other jobs until they're needed. We're here all the time for emergencies. We make sure there's always someone in this place. Most of the time, it's us. I because I'm the Keeper and, well, Jeff just sucks at everything else."
     "Hey!" Jeff bit at Clint while he just laughed at his own joke. Seeing Clint wasn't going to stop laughing any time soon, Jeff turned to me with his arms crossed over his chest. "That's not true.      I could've been a builder, but this job was more appealing to me. Especially since Gally can't seem to stand me."
     "I don't think that Shank likes anyone, except for some of his own people." Clint remarked after getting a hold on himself again.
     "Really? Is he really that bad? He didn't seem that awful to me." True I hadn't really exchanged more then a few words with the guy, but I assumed that in a community like this most of them would at least get along.
     Clint looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "He voted to banish you, remember?"
     "Yeah, okay," I actually had forgotten about that for a moment, seeing at the time I'd still believed it was all one freaky dream I hadn't been paying a lot of attention to everything. "but so did Winston and that dude from the Sloppers. Now I'm thinking about it... I haven't even talked to Gally yet." At that point I made a mental note to thank the guy for my bed, seeing his is the Keeper of the Builders and all.
     With that, we left the topic of Gally behind and returned to more important things. Mostly existing of Clint and Jeff walking around and explaining how things worked around here. To my surprise I remembered more of the medical stuff I'd learned during my Health and Biology classes than I'd originally thought I would. Not that I could let them know that, so I just nodded along, asking questions were necessary.
     The day went on slowly, even Bark had stopped following me around in the space and had claimed a corner where she frequently switched between watching us and taking naps.
     Lunch time we spend in the Med-room with the three of us. Jeff had gotten us food and while we ate I gotten to hear a lot about the Gladers and all the stupid things they'd done to make them end up knocking on the Med-jacks' door. After the initial tension from that morning, we ended up getting along surprisingly well. We had fun talking and joking around, and didn't take me long to catch onto the fact that Clint and Jeff's main form of communication was throwing insults and making fun of each other. Something that I, as someone with three siblings, could definitely get behind. Even though I wasn't entirely sure these two have the same 'brotherly bond' in mind as I with my siblings... In all honestly they made me feel a bit like a third wheel at times.
     But eventually Jeff's shift came to an end and that left me alone with Clint for the last few hours. All with all, the day had been slow and calm. Not even one Glader had come up to the Med-room in need of assistance. That is, until the door slammed open without warning. The loud bang of wood on wood made me jump up from the bed, heart racing and taking a few steps away from the two boys that had bursted into the room. My breath got stuck in my throat when my brain processed the lumpy thing that hung between them, jerking and twisting, to be a person.
     I didn't know where to look after they'd placed him on the bed, the gaping wound on his arm that bled all over the white sheets or the green veins that spread from it.
     An agonizing scream ripped out of the boy's throat, making me flinch back even further, covering my ears. Bark, who had joined my side the moment the commotion had started, whined softly, tail between her legs and trying to find some kind of shelter behind me.
     Unlike me, Clint did not hesitate before rushing to the boy's side. "What happened?"
     "What do you think happened, Slinthead?" The bigger of the two guys shot back, his face almost as red as his hair, panic radiating off of him. "He got stung!"
     Despite the guy's state of mind and the way he had snapped at him, Clint stayed calm. Talking loud and clear while he moved to the drawer with all the syringes of Grieve Serum and taking one out. "I can see that, but how? Grievers don't get in the Glade."
     "Can't this wait until after you've helped him?" The other of the two guys responded, sounding less pissed and more worried about his friend.
     With a new determination Clint moved towards the three, realizing the questions, in fact, should come later. "Keep him down." Only then, when the two boys took a hold of their heaving and creaming friend, trying to hold his flailing limbs in place, did I recognize Gally's black hair. Somehow knowing who it was made my stomach twist even more.
     Clint walked around the bed with the syringe until he had access to the wounded arm, he took a hold of Gally's wrist to keep him still and went to remove the plastic cover from the needle with his teeth when the redhead's grip on Gally's shoulders slipped. The boy shot up, forehead coming down on the bridge of Clint's nose with a loud crack.
     Clint shot back, his hands instinctively moving to cover his face, the sheets of the bed tangled with his leg and before I knew it Clint fell. His head hit the bed's wooden headboard before the guy collided with the ground, and stayed there.
     "Clint, are you okay?" The voice of the smaller of the two guys shook as he spoke, trying his best to keep Gally's legs in place while also looking around the bed to see if Clint was okay. But the Keeper of the Med-Jacks did not respond at all, he just lay there unmoving while the redhead managed to regain his grip on Gally, pressing him back down to the bed. "Clint!'
     The panic in the guy's voice made me snap out of my frozen state. "Hold him down." I ordered after sucking in a deep breath, finding my voice sounded a lot steadier than I felt. "Clint will come next, Gally first."
     "What do you think we're doing?" The redhead snapped to me now. But I ignored him, biting my tongue not to snap something back at him while I picked up the syringe from the ground and rushed towards the bed. Taking the place Clint had taken before I pulled the plastic cover off the needle, taking a hold of Gally's wrist, my knuckles turning white at the effort. Not wanting to give myself the time to doubt what I was doing I injected the needle into his arm and pushing down on the orange button on the top with my thumb. Watching as the green liquid drained from the syringe and into Gally's body, silently praying to whatever deity would listen that I'd done it right. Please work.
     A big sign of relieve escaped my lungs when I noticed Gally's body relaxed, his bloodshot eyes closing until he seemed to be in a deep sleep. The two guys who had brought him in also relaxed slightly, although they did not let go of him just yet.
     A soft groan sounded from the ground and immediately I turned to kneel down to Clint's side.      "Clint?" The guy stirred, he blinked slowly a few times before attempting to push himself off the ground. I took a hold of his arm, helping him stand and keeping him steady. Blood still leaked out of his nostrils, and his nose had a weird angle to it that hadn't been like that before.        Quickly I grabbed some tissues and held them under his nose. "Shit, Clint, are you okay?"
     Clint took the tissues from me with one hand and rubbing the side of his head that had hit the bed with the other. "What happened?" As he asked it, he seemed to remember and his head snapped to the bed. His body visibly relaxed after seeing Gally lay there calmly. "Who-?"
     "I injected the Grieve serum into his arm," I answered while taking a small towel, drenching it in cold water and gave it to Clint, trusting him to now what to do with it. "That's where you were aiming for, right?"
     It took a moment before Clint responded with a little confused sounding "Yes." pressing the cold towel to the bump on his head.
     I shot him a worried look at his delayed response while using the remaining water from the bottle I'd used to cool Clint's towel to start cleaning Gally's wound. Most of the bleeding had stopped, but it was hard to make out anything with all the blood everywhere. "Are you feeling alright? Maybe it's better if you sit down, you hit your head pretty hard. Maybe you have a concussion."
     "No, I'm fine." The brunette responded, voice a bit muffled, making his way over to us. "Colm," He addressed the red headed boy, "Could you please go get Jeff?" Colm did not shoot anything back for a change and left the room. A short silence fell while I concentrated on cleaning the stab wound with Clint's supervision.
     "What'll happen to him next?" I asked, afraid of the answer after what I'd been told earlier that day and the images in the back of my head from the movie.
Clint signed, leaning his head further back, some new tissues shoved up his nose, making him sound a little ridiculous. "He'll be calm for an hour or so... Then the shank'll start screaming again, which is how we know the Changing has started."
     "But he'll be alright?"
     "Eventually."
     "What you mean, eventually? How long is he gonna be like this?" I mentioned towards Gally, his body had started shaking and the green veins seemed to have gotten clearer on his paling skin.
    "Few days, maybe weeks, it's different for every Shank."
     "Oh..." I couldn't really come up with anything better to say staring at the face of the boy in front of me, a weird feeling of dread washing over me, not able to imaging what he'd be going through.
     "But what happened?" Clint now turned to the boy still in the room with us, "How did he get stung?"
     "I don't know,"The guy pulled his hand over his buzz cut, "he wasn't even that far in, but a Griever showed up and stung him anyway."
     "Yeah, but why was he inside the Maze?" Clint started to lose his patience, but the boy just avoided the Med-Jack's eyes.
     "I don't know."
     There was a short conversation after that that my ears did not recognize as I stared at Gally and everything the Griever Sting had done to him.
     "It'll get worse." Clint drew my attention back to him, making me look up.
     "How much?"
     "Like I said, screaming and sweating. His eyes will get red and fall in. It ain't pretty, that's for sure."
     Yet again, all I could bring out was a soft "Oh..." My brain struggling to process all of the information.
     "But you did good, Cally. Maybe one day you could be a Med-Jack."
     "Thanks, Clint." I managed to bring out, not sure if i wanted that, not after what I just witnessed... Then again, knowing that I'd helped when it mattered did leave a sliver of fulfillment inside my chest. Even if it fell away compared to the nausea that made it's way up my throat.
     "Clint!" Again the door shot open, this time I did not jump. Jeff came rushing in, making a B-line for his Keeper, worry in his voice and eyes as he took the guy's face in his hands, examining his nose. "What happened?"
     Clint moved his friend's hands away from his face, "I'm okay, Jeff." Then he turned his attention back to me. "Let us take it from here? You can go for the day, take a moment to process, good that?"
     I nodded, glancing from Gally to Clint and Jeff and to my hands smudged with the blood of the people around me. Suddenly I found myself with the unresistible itch to get it all off of em as soon as possible. "Yeah... good that."
     Clint had not been exasperating when he'd said Gally would start screaming. Oh and how. How this guy would keep his vocal cords after all of this was a mystery to me. I hoped he would stop or I'd at least get somewhat used to his voice ripping through the air, needless to say I didn't. So in a meager attempt to escape not only Gally but also the social obligation of small talk with other Gladers Bark and I took our food and sat down at a picnic table as far from the Homestead as I could.
     Unfortunately for me, my plan of not wanting to hold a conversation with a human being for the rest of the day did not work. Alby ended up joining my table together with Clint and the two guys from before to come and get the full story. He kept on asking questions until he seemed satisfied enough with our answers and left. The two builders followed and lastly Clint ended up heading back up to the Med-Room to join Jeff, apparently from now on there always had to be some Shank with Gally until the Changing ended. Finally leaving me to be with no one but my own thoughts and Bark.
     I did feel for Clint, his nose had stopped bleeding and I could see they had done something about the bridge, but it still looked crooked and purple. Maybe if the swelling went away it will look normal again and more importantly, fully functioning.
     A slap on my shoulder made me jump, barely keeping balance before falling off the bench. "Calm down, Greenie, it's just me." Minho took place on the empty space beside me on the bench while Newt did the same in front of me. "A little on edge, aren't we, Shank?"
     "Yeah, I guess..." I mumbled, resting my chin in my hand while looking down at my plate, poking my fork in some peas.
     "So," Minho continued, although I wished he would just leave me be. "you saved Gally's butt today, Greenbean? Good on you."
     "I guess so." Another scream from the Med room made me crimp into myself, covering one ear with my hand on instinct.
     "The screaming is horrible, but ya did a good job, Cals. You're allowed to be proud of y'self." Newt chimed in after Gally's scream had died down again.
     I glanced up to see the blond boy smiling at me, he seemed genuine enough, but I couldn't bring myself to smile back. "Thanks, Newt. It's just... Gally... he looked so.... and now the screaming..." My attention went to my hands, the moment I'd left the Med-Room I scrubbed the blood off of them until my skin turned raw. Even so I could still feel an echo of it where the smudges had been. "I don't really feel good about any of it." I said through a deep sign, rubbing my hands before leaning my head back on one of them. The other reaching to pet Bark who lay beside me on the bench, head on my lap.
     "No matter how you feel about it, Clint was happy with you today." Minho continued, unintentionally getting on my last nerve.
     "Can you just shut up!" Immediately after snapping at him I regretted not being able to keep my emotions under control. I cleared my throat, rubbing my arm. "Sorry- just, please?"
     "I just tried to give ya a compliment." Minho scoffed, leaning back in his seat. "You could've just thanked me. You thanked that shank," he gestured to Newt, loudly dropping his hand on the table. "Why not me?"
     "Because he's nice, and you're a pain in the ass." I responded, only half joking.
    Another scoff came from the Keeper of the Runners, "Really? What did I ever do to you?"
     "This morning?" I started with disbelieve pointing at the guy with my fork, "you chased me around and then dropped me to the ground!"
     Minho shrugged as if he's already forgotten about the whole thing and I was annoying him by bringing it up. "You asked for it when you stole my food."
     "Do I need to remind you that that was my revenge for yesterday, Pretty boy? I didn't ask for anything. Except for you idiots to stop with the horrible pick up lines."
     "Newt," Minho turned to his friend, "Tell the Greenie she is being unreasonable and petty."
     "Really? Can't think of a comeback yourself? You know what? Fine," I also turned to the Glade's Second-in-command, crossing my arms over my chest. "Spill it, what do you think?"
     Newt's eyes switched from his friend to me, "Ya wanne know what I think?" He asked, mouth half full, swallowing his food down before continuing. "You're both bloody Slintheads."
     A little taken back I looked over to Minho, who send me an equally annoyed look back before both turning to Newt.
     "What do you even know?" I shot back at the same time Minho went with an just as defensive "Nobody asked you."
     "Yeah," I huffed, "keep your unwanted opinion to yourself, Newton."
     "'Slintheads,'" Minhio mocked, "You are the bugging Slinthead, shuck face."
     Newt glared at us, not even a hint of amusement shining through. "See what I mean?" He asked the question directed at Bark, who had stuck up her head during our discussion to get a better look at what the commotion was about. "Slintheads."
     Bark huffed, somehow sounding annoyed, moving her head up and down ones as if to agree with the guy. I couldn't help but let out an offended gasp, hurt by her betrayal. "Well, shit. Don't sugarcoat it." I'd expected it from Newt, but not from my little girlfriend.
     Minho was the first one to laugh, quickly followed by Newt and me. The discussion forgotten, just like the unsettled feeling that had been weighting on me since seeing Gally being dragged into the Med-Room.

~.~.~