Tired of Running

38|| a final attack

// my shadow grows taller,
   along with my fears;
and my friends shrink smaller,
as night grows near \\

    •
    The gladers all stood in the open.  Newt, Minho, Harper and Thomas had called a gathering.  They needed to go through the griever hole, and they needed to do it soon.
"Your brains are shucked!" One of the older boys crossed his arms, shaking his head, a look of disbelief on his face.  Alby silenced them as even more voices broke out; all talking over each other, "How do we even know it's safe?"
"Harper went down it."  Gasps and whispers spread through the group; all looking at Harper in amazement. 

"Shame the bravest glader here is a shuck girl..." Minho smirked, receiving several annoyed remarks.  "Listen!  HEY!"  Alby once again established quiet, "We've been here for three years.  If this.. If there's any way this could be a way out, why wouldn't we try it?"
Clint spoke up, "Uh, because we go where the grievers live!  We wouldn't even make it far enough to get out!" 
Thomas considered this, tilting his head.
"Maybe..." He nodded, "But I would rather die trying than spend the rest of my life in here."
Harper smirked, looking at her brother with pride; he was more like her than she thought.

"The grievers will get us either way."
Newt looked at the boy in disgust,
"They will keep coming back...
Every night..  Just like Gally said."
"You really believe that?"  Jeff looked at him,
"He was stung... 
He didn't know what he was saying."
Harper's patience had run out and her temper burned short, "Look around, shuck face.
It's night.  Do you see those doors closing?"
Jeff met her eyes; his face turning sad, he looked down.  Alby nodded, confident that the point had been made, "We leave in two days.
Prepare yourselves..."
The gathering disbanded, the boys gathering things for the long terror filled night that was once again upon them.  Minho handed out weapons as Harper made sure people were getting into hiding.  Newt and Thomas stood by her side, each grasping their own chosen tools.

"Okay, I say we—"
"GRIEVER!"  Winston had ran across the field, making a dash for the cornfield.  Teresa, Chuck and Frypan were following.  "Shuck..."
Harper looked around, processing her best options, "MINHO!"  She screamed, looking toward the maze doors.  This time there wasn't a griever.  There were three.  Minho went pale, squeezing his spear with white knuckles.
"RUN!"  The grievers had heard this command, screaming and shrieking.  They thrashed their tails out, splitting directions, determined and set for blood.  A scream sounded, meaning someone had been found.  Harper turned, looking over her shoulder.  They were in the cornfield.  And they had Chuck.
"CHUCK!"  She immediately reversed, setting her pace towards the grievers.  Newt and Minho followed, as Thomas ran for more weapons.  Teresa was stabbing at the griever, trying desperately to force it to release Chuck.
The griever roared, sending Teresa back with it's tail.  Chuck screamed, terror in the boy's eyes.  Thomas had thrown a lantern at it, causing the griever to erupt in flame.  Chuck flew, landing near Teresa as the creature lashed out, flailing, trying to escape the flame.

Alerted by their partner's terror, the other two grievers had changed their course.  Many of the older boys had abandoned their hiding and were now standing side by side; weapons raised. The third griever had sent a group flying with a whip of it's tail. Griever two was cornered; being jabbed and stabbed from all directions. With a lash of it's arm, it impaled a boy. With it's tail it stung; another leg killed another boy. The creature gave one final shutter before collapsing; never to move again.

The uninjured rushed to the injured's aid, while the second group was fighting the third griever.
"SHUCK, DUCK!"
Before the boy responded, he was cut into two.
Harper screamed; she didn't even know his name... Two more boys fell dead, but Harper kept her focus on stabbing the griever. Newt and Minho were protecting others while fighting. Harper glanced to her left, checking on Thomas.

The split distraction was all it took. The tail of the griever stabbed right into the skin below Harper's collar bone. She screamed; a pain like a spreading fire tore through her body, consuming her veins and nerves. Collapsing to the ground, she gasped for air. Her panic rose, warning her that she couldn't breathe. She gasped, flailing around trying to reach someone. Three voices shouted her name at once, all three abandoning their positions.

The griever seemed satisfied with his mark and spun around, scarcely missing Newt with it's tail. Newt and Minho both dropped to the ground beside her. Her eyes had rolled to the back of her head and she was twitching.
"SHUCK! Shuck shuck shuck shuck..."
Newt had tears in his eyes, putting a hand on each shoulder, trying to steady her. Minho stared, wide eyed; something broke behind his chest. She was unconscious but not dead.
"GET THE SERUM!"
Thomas just stared, shocked, scared, horrified.
"THE SHUCK SERUM SOMEONE GET THE SHUCKING SERUM NOW!" Minho's voice had never sounded more broken, nor more angry. Winston had run off, followed by Teresa.

~~~

Newt, Minho, Thomas, Winston, Chuck and Teresa all stayed around the bed Harper lay in. She had received the serum but she wasn't waking up. It had been hours. The sun was rising, but she remained motionless. Chuck had fallen asleep on the floor, his back propped against the wall. Teresa had passed out on the ground, curled up in a small ball. Winston sat across the room, a tired, hopeless look on his face. Everyone just watched her.
Thomas, Minho or Newt hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. All three of them stayed in the same spots they were in right now. Minho kept pacing, hand on his chin, looking at Harper with dark eyes. Thomas clenched and unclenched his fists, rubbed his hands together and tried steadying his breathing. Newt had sat on the end of her bed all night, her hand in his. He hadn't been able to stop crying; his heart felt weighed down by concrete— his heart felt empty.