Injured Feet & Rickety Hearts {Book 1 Completed}

//Chapter 73//

I looked down at my hands, people have sacrificed everything to get out of a place they never wanted to be in. If this works, I can save everyone, if it doesn't, if I die then I know that I did it trying.

I was tired, not of this battle, but of the death, I can't see anymore of my friends die. My death won't change that. But my risk might. If I try this, and it worked, I could save lives, if it didn't. Then this griever will probably kill me. But I can't watch all these grievers kill my friends one by one knowing that I didn't try.

I took the knife tightly in hand and jogged, as much as my dazed body could. My vision was trying to fix itself and my hearing was starting to come back, but I didn't like what I could hear. Men screaming in agony, grievers wailing and the sound of whirring as they ran around the maze attacking my friends.

It's not like I liked what I saw when my vision came back either. People getting throw around, shovels and knives being used to fight back a supernatural monster that was probably being controlled by sick people behind a control panel.

I moved 10 more feet. Further and further before I started running. I didn't think, I just hoped. All I wanted was for everyone to be ok, but that desire was already long gone, people had died. With the hope that somehow this will work, I threw myself in front of Newt, the small space the griever allowed I filled. Standing almost half a foot from a monster.

Newt screamed, but I didn't move. He reached out for me, but I pushed his attempts away, I tried to calm Newt, like somehow, I knew this would work. Even though I don't know if it will. I was counting on the mercy of a group of killers.

Because somehow, I thought that was smart.

The griever smelt like rotten meat and stagnant water. It reminded me of the forgotten, abandoned land and lost life. It smelt like death. The smell suited it. And I thought Barks breath was bad. I wondered where the creature's eyes were, or if it ran purely on hearing, but I wouldn't want to test that theory out.

The griever jumped back from me slightly, expecting me to attack it straight away. But when I didn't It squealed right at me, its needle-sharp teeth seeming pointless with all its other weapons. It opened its grubby mouth to scream at me once more, but it didn't strike, my heart was racing, expecting the monster to just kill me slowly. Maybe it was taking it's time. Maybe it was shocked at my bravery.

Newt grappled with my arms, desperate to move me before the creature finally decided to stab me or eat me, but I held my ground, standing between the griever and Newt. Every time his hand grabbed me and tried to pull me back I fought him, every time he tried to get in front of me, I blocked him off. I wasn't letting him win.

I was going to protect him, all the times he has saved my life, I wanted to return the favour. I had too. I just had to. I needed to do this more for my own mind.

"What are you doing?!"

Newt begged and I took a step forward, somehow mustering the courage to stand almost nose to nose with the monster, I nearly through up with how putrid the smell was, I hadn't been this close to one, where I could feel its slimy skin against my nose. I thought I was gonna hurl. If it's going to kill me, now would be the time it would do it... But... my hopes were answered. The creature stood back and tried to get around me. It tried to side step me rather than tackle me. Newt's hands stilled on my arms as he too saw the witchery.

Thomas was right, his memories were right! The grievers can't kill me, they won't.

I pulled my knife out and held it up to cut the griever off from going around me, it growled and snarled like some sort of reptile, the groaning of its machinery parts making my stomach churn. I had bad memories of those sounds, and this was no better. It reached out to get me with some sort of shearing mechanism, but I just swatted it away quickly. It didn't try to stop me.