Count On Me ➵ Newt [1]

TWENTY-THREE | the changing

▬The Griever started pulling Chuck back up the hole in the roof, the poor boy screaming and shrieking as he flailed around in the air wildly.

"NO!" I rushed forward and curled my hands around Chuck's shirt, pulling him back to me and away from the monstrous Griever. I ignored the tremendous pain in my shoulders as I tugged, determined not to lose my friend - the one friend whom I had always viewed as the younger brother I never had, the one friend who always managed to put a smile on my face no matter how miserable the situation. The other Gladers rushed forward to help, each of them helping me pull Chuck back as the Griever growled in frustration.

"Chuck, don't let go!" Thomas yelled.

"No shit!" The kid yelled back.

I heard a defiant shout from my left and spotted Alby charging the tail with a machete; he started hacking away at the tail bit by bit, metal clanging against metal, until it finally broke. The Griever shrieked in pain and frustration as the upper half of its tail shot back up the hole in the roof, the stinger dropping. Chuck fell to the ground, eyes wide with terror.

"Thanks, Alby," he whispered, glancing up at the leader, who stood staring after the retreating shadow of the Griever, breathing heavily. 

Alby nodded grimly in response, hand still clutching his machete.

"You okay?" I asked Chuck, checking him over frantically as my Med-jack instincts kicked in. "Did you get stung?"

"No, I'm fine," he muttered, trembling.

Suddenly, the whirring and haunted moans returned, filling the air dauntingly, and a giant shadow loomed over the Homestead. Before anyone could do anything a Griever tail shot out of nowhere and snatched up Alby, pulling him away from us. Thomas yelled out and caught hold of his shirt right before he got dragged out of the broken building and he held on, hands curling into fists with strain.

"Thomas, get them out of here," Alby said, his eyes filled with a hopeless void, and with one final tug, the Griever managed to wrench him away from Thomas' grip. Alby disappeared into the night gloom, taking away with him the piercing Griever shrieks.

Thomas yelled up a storm of protests and ran towards the door - we called out to him to stop but he burst outside, leaving us no choice but to follow him. 

I glanced around the Glade in stunned silence as I stepped through the door, clutching my now throbbing shoulder. Everything was on fire, the flames crackling menacingly as smoke curled into the starless sky. The fresh, happy green and sturdy browns I was so used to seeing around the Glade was replaced by ominous black and reds of the trampled buildings and dead farm animals. Everywhere I looked, it was a bloody disaster.

"Where is everybody?" Jack asked, staring around him with wide eyes.

"Who's that over there?" Franklin asked, squinting through the smoky haze. 

Several figures loomed out of the darkness, their faces silhouetted in the flickering fires behind them, their paces quick and hasty. As they neared us, I realized that it was Gally and some of his closest friends. He strode forward, never slowing, and before anyone could stop him he reared back a fist and punched Thomas. 

The new girl - Teresa - rushed to his side as he fell to the ground, eyes wide with shock and pain. The other Gladers held Gally back, pushing him away from him.

"This is all you, Thomas!" He yelled, glaring down at him with a relentless accusatory glare. "Huh? Look around!"

"Back up, Gally, this is not Thomas' fault!" Minho fumed, shoving him back.