Losing Hope

Twenty Four

The Gladers were very silent, grouped around the main doors to the Maze. I stood in the back with Chuck, not really wanting to be in the front row for this. The faint complains from Ben started filling the air, getting louder with each step he took. Minho was dragging him along, an unreadable expression on his face. His sadness and anger had been replace by his usual hard, closed attitude. I turned to look at the other boys.

The Keeper were standing in a semi-circle around the opening, holding up long wooden poles with a flat tip. The others gathered between them and the walls, holding shorter, spears-like poles. Newt was staring at the two walking boys with a frown, standing a few feet away from Alby.

The closer Ben got, the deeper my heart sunk in my chest. He looked so sick, his pale skin making his veins almost completely visible to us. His breathing was ragged as he repeatedly pleaded for us to listen to him.

"Please, Minho! Alby!" he complained, walking past the row of boys and into the semi-circle. Minho pushed him to his knees, dropping the bag of food he had been carrying along with the sick boy. The Gladers around held down their spears as to keep Ben from trying to get away. Minho cut off the ropes that were holding Ben's arms behind his head, and he fell on the ground, whining and growling. His eyes were wild, and an image of the other sick boy, Jack, came to my mind. I shook it away.

I heard steps from behind me and turned around, only to see the Greenie coming towards us. He looked confused, not fully grasping what was about to happen. I turned my attention back to Ben, who was now sobbing and coughing in the middle of the Gladers. A thick, dark liquid fell from his mouth as he coughed, and I felt a lump rise in my throat.

"No, no please don't, please don't, please don't do it," Ben begged as Minho stood in front of the doors, looking at him. He waited for Alby's order, and when our leader nodded, Minho threw the bag into the Maze, just as the doors' mechanics started roaring. There was the familiar gush of wind, and Alby shouted over the deafening sounds for the boys to put down their poles . The Keepers held them down towards Ben, who looked back at them helplessly before standing up.

Thomas walked forward and I followed him, but turned around when I noticed Chuck wasn't between us anymore. The kid looked up at me sadly, before walking away and back to the dining area. I watched him walk away, before turning my attention back to Ben. The boys were now pushing him in the Maze and Thomas was walking towards the middle to get a better view. I tried to hold him back but he shook my hand away from his shoulder, too curious about what was happening.

I followed him and froze once I got a clear view of Ben. They kept pushing until he had no other choice than to backtrack into the Maze if he didn't wanted to be crushed by the closing doors. The boys rose their poles back as the last booming sound of the door echoed through the Glade, signaling that Ben was officially stuck out there for the night. I couldn't look away from the doors, my breathing heavy as my brain tried to process what I had just seen.

I looked at Minho, who was standing right next to the wall. He was looking straight in front of him, his expression somewhere between pain and anger. Alby turned to face us and my eyes fell on Newt, who had his eyes closed, leaning his head on the pole he was holding. He bit his lip and looked up, his eyes scanning the crowd until they fell on me. I looked away from him, not really wanting him to see how disturbed the whole thing had made me. Alby spoke up.

"I know what you're all thinking. Thinking that what we just did there was wrong. You thought Ben was your friend. He was. He was my friend too," he said, looking sadly at the ground. He looked back up, pointing at the doors behind him. "But that was not Ben! Okay? There's nothing more we could've done for him," he added loudly, staring at each and every one of us, his gaze lingering on Thomas, then on me. "He belongs to the Maze now. I don't wanna hear another word about it," he finished, before walking away from the doors, walking straight between Thomas and I. He sent a glare to Thomas and I frowned, turning to see him walk towards the Homestead.

I felt an arm wrap around my shoulder and drag me along, away from the doors, and I knew it was Newt. "You okay?" he asked me, and I shrugged.

"I guess. You?" I asked back, my voice quieter than I intended. He shrugged too, looking in front of him.

"Not my first banishing. I guess I'm kinda used to it," he whispered, and I nodded.

"What about Minho?" I asked, and we shared a look, before looking behind us. Minho was standing close to the doors, his hand resting on one of them, looking sadly at the ground. My heart shrank, and I wanted nothing more than to hug him until he told me to shuck away. He looked up and noticed that Thomas, who was still standing in the same spot we had been, was looking at him. He straightened up, pulled his harness back in place, and walked away, staring at Thomas as he left.

His eyes fell on Newt and I, but he looked away quickly, his face emotionless, as he walked towards the Runner's hut. I made a move to follow him, but Newt held me back, his arm still around me. "Trust me, we should leave him alone for a moment," he told me, and I nodded, letting him take me to the other boys.

That evening, Newt and I went to sit with Chuck and Thomas, as I insisted to see how the kid was feeling. Chuck was strangely calm, though, but Thomas seemed nervous, looking at the doors every now and then as we made small talk. After a while, Newt left to see if Minho was alright and I was left with the two boys. I caught a few boys staring at us and chatting together, but I ignored them, listening to whatever story Chuck was telling Thomas. When the kid realized that Thomas wasn't really paying attention, he leaned back into his hammock, staring at the sky. I exchanged a look with Thomas, then stood up, stretching a bit.

"Well, I guess I should go to bed," I whispered, and Chuck nodded.

"Do you think he might make it?" Thomas asked, and Chuck and I looked at him.

"Huh?" I asked, at the same time as Chuck asked "Ben?"

Thomas looked up at both of us. "No," Chuck declared, and I stared at him. "No one survives a night in the Maze. We just gotta forget about him," he added, before turning on his side and closing his eyes. I felt sad that this little boy had to handle all of this, mentally cursing the people who thought it was alright to put a little kid like him in this kind of place.

Thomas looked at me, and I gave him a sad look, shrugging. He stared back at the doors, and I turned away, walking to the Homestead to try and get some early sleep, although I highly doubted I would sleep well.

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~Laue