Trials Together (Book One): The Maze Runner

Chapter 27

The Gathering ended a while later, all the Keepers subdued as they went off to persuade their groups.

Newt and Sonya came over to them, a hint of victory in both their eyes.

"They all agreed to go, but some other shanks are gonna try their chances here." Newt told them, Thomas was elated, now their plan just had to work.

"Alby?" He asked, the leader was one of the most important people to have on their side. Thomas was quite sure Harriet would follow them, but if he wouldn't go far more people would have doubts.

"Harriet said she'll make sure of it, drag him by the ear if she has to." Sonya smiled, but there was no joy in it. Any other time the image would have been funny, but now it was just another source of apprehension.

"Anywhere's better than this place." Aris still had an arm around Rachel but they both looked determined, Thomas became aware that at some point he had let go of Teresa's hand.

Arguments were breaking out across the Glade, the Keepers trying to convince people, some shook their heads and left, but most seemed to at least consider.

"So what's next?" Rachel asked, all her fear from before had evaporated, Thomas didn't want to be any Griever that was in her way.

Newt took a deep breath. "Figure out who's going, who's staying. Get ready. Food, weapons, all that. Then we go. Thomas, I'd put you in charge since it was your idea, but it's going to be hard enough to get people on our side without making the Greenie our leader—no offense. So just lay low, okay? We'll leave the code business to you four—you can handle that from the background."

Thomas was more than fine with lying low—finding that computer station and punching in the code was more than enough responsibility for him. Even with that much on his shoulders he had to fight the rising flood of panic he felt. "You sure make it sound easy," he finally said, trying his best to lighten up the situation. Or at least sound like he was.

Newt folded his arms again, looked at him closely. "Like you said—stay here, one shank'll die tonight. Go, one shank'll die. What's the difference?" He pointed at Thomas. "If you're right."

Thomas knew he was right, this was the only way to escape. He just wished that he could keep his friends alive.

The next few hours were frantic.

Most of the Gladers ended up agreeing to go—even more than Thomas would've guessed. Even Alby decided to make the run, after a 'long talk' with Harriet behind the Homestead. Though no one admitted it, Thomas bet most of them were banking on the theory that only one person would be killed by the Grievers, and they figured their chances of not being the unlucky sap were decent.

Those who decided to stay in the Glade were few but adamant and loud. They mainly walked around sulking, trying to tell others how stupid they were. Eventually, they gave up and kept their distance.

As for Thomas and the rest of those committed to the escape, there was a ton of work to be done.

Backpacks were handed out and stuffed full of supplies. Food, water, bandages, spare weapons. The Medis even took Grief Serum, the four of them working like a well-oiled machine, Thomas doubted they would need it but the stuff could have other uses.

Minho and Miyoko went to the Cliff, taking ivy ropes and rocks to test the invisible Griever Hole one last time. They planned to set up guidelines so no one missed the Hole and tumbled into the abyss. Thomas wished no one had mentioned that possibility.

They had to hope the creatures would keep to their normal schedule and not come out during daytime hours. They waited until night, and as it got darker people became fidgety, more panicked.

The Runners came back safe and sound, lightening the mood slightly.

Thomas helped Newt distribute the weapons, and even more innovative ones were created in their desperation to be prepared for the Grievers. Wooden poles were carved into spears or wrapped in barbwire; the knives were sharpened and fastened with twine to the ends of sturdy branches hacked from trees in the woods; chunks of broken glass were duct-taped to shovels. By the end of the day, the Gladers had turned into a small army. A very pathetic, ill-prepared army, Thomas thought, but an army all the same.

After they were done helping, only waiting for night to fall, Thomas collected Rachel, Teresa and Aris and took them behind the Deadheads to strategise.

"We have to be the ones to do it," Thomas said as they leaned their backs against craggy trees, the once-green leaves already starting to turn gray from the lack of artificial sunlight. "That way if we get separated, we can be in contact and still help each other."

Teresa had grabbed a stick and was peeling off the bark. "But we need backup in case something happens to us."

"We'll do that." Rachel spoke up for the first time in a while, Thomas was incredibly grateful towards his friend. Aris stood with her, nodding in agreement.

"Not much to the plan, then." Teresa yawned, as if life were completely normal.
"Not much at all. Fight the Grievers, punch in the code, escape through the door. Then we deal with the Creators—whatever it takes."
"Six code words, who knows how many Grievers." Teresa broke the stick in half.

"Grievers can't be invincible. Enough of us jump on one, stabbing." Aris gestured with his knife, Rachel leapt back.

"You almost got me with that, I'm not risking death till we're past those Doors." She scolded halfheartedly.

There was to be one last meal before they all went into the Maze, Thomas found Chuck and Flo and dragged them to sit with him and Teresa. Rachel and Aris were already halfway through their plates.

"So ... Thomas," Chuck said through a huge bite of mashed potatoes. "Who am I nicknamed after?"

Thomas couldn't help shaking his head—here they were, about to embark on probably the most dangerous task of their lives, and Chuck was curious where he'd gotten his nickname. "I don't know, Darwin, maybe? The dude who figured out evolution."

"And me?" Flo had been quiet as usual, Chuck did almost all of the talking for the pair.

"Florence Nightingale, nurse from the Crimean War." Rachel suggested, drinking her whole glass of water in one gulp. How could they remember a generalized view of history but not their own parents?

"Remember what I promised." Thomas repeated to the younger pair, he really hoped he could keep it. Seventy Gladers were going to make the run, assuming no one chickened out at the last minute, even if dozens of Grievers attacked and his person-a-day theory was wrong.

Not person-a-day, pair-a-day, Thomas suddenly remembered, that could mean that in sacrificing himself he may well sacrifice Rachel. That he just couldn't do, he started to hope that maybe he was wrong, the Creators would reprogram the monsters.

Just don't take my friends. Thomas begged any higher power there was, from the Creators to Zeus. Rachel, Teresa, Aris, Chuck, Flo, he looked between all of them, thought of all the other Gladers who didn't deserve death. You can take me, but not them, not yet.