A Way Back - The Maze Runner (♡Newt) UNDER EDITING/REWRITE

Chapter 79

Cally's pov

 Even though we were all running to most certain doom, I would be lying if I said I wasn't enjoying one last run through the Maze.
     Ezra and I had started with a bit of a backlog due to Bark, but it didn't take long before my twin and I had caught up to the others. He may not have the best physical condition, but my brother still was faster than most of the other Gladers. He had told me to stay close to him, but as the adrenaline rushed through my blood with every beat of my heart and the wind blew against my hot skin, I was done holding back. I started to sprint, maneuvering past the other Gladers, ignoring their annoyed groans and eye rolls.
     It didn't take long before I saw the leaders of our group. Newt had fallen behind, which didn't surprise me. His limp may not have been visible when he started running, but that didn't mean that it wasn't there anymore. Minho was leading us now, running through the corridors of the Maze. Concentrated on his task, making sure they all took the right turns at the right moments. Getting lost was no option today.
     I could see Thomas closely behind Minho, Teresa at his side, and Chuck at hers. He had taken him under his wing, Teresa told me before we left that Thomas and her were going to take Chuck with them through the Griever Hole, taking the gamble that it would be safer to take him there than let him stay and fight. Nobody knew about this except for us, even Chuck wasn't aware of this yet. At first, I wasn't very happy about the idea that Chuck would go with them and in the process also be out of my sight where I could not protect him, but eventually, I realized it might be the best option. Sure we did not know what was down there, but it couldn't be much worse than the Grievers up here...
     I hope.
     Knowing I shouldn't disturb Minho and break his concentration, I made my way to Newt. "You okay?" I asked, knowing long conversations weren't the best idea with the long run still ahead of us. Newt hadn't noticed my presence until I had asked my question. With a quick turn of his head, he shot me a smile before turning his gaze back to his surroundings. 
     "Bloody amazing," I could hear the sarcasm in his voice, making me chuckle shortly. "You?" He asked after taking some deep breaths. 
     "Couldn't be better." I answered in the same tone as he had. We didn't speak after that, keeping our concentration on running. I stayed by his side to make sure his limp wasn't causing him too much troubl and I would be able to help him if it did. At the same time, I kept an eye on Ezra, who ran a few meters behind us.
     My heart was pounding loudly against my chest. The weeks I had spent just laying around the Glade were starting to get back at me. Sweat dripped down my forehead and stuck my hair to my face and neck. I regretted not putting it in a bun or ponytail, but there was no time to do something about it right now.
     I could see flashes of silver and red between the green ivy on the walls out of the corners of my eyes. Beetle Blades. Of course, They were following us, probably with as much of the little buggers as they could use.
     Just as my breathing was starting to get painful due to the coldness in my throat, everyone abruptly stopped running. Not expecting this, I ran into the person in front of me, but he didn't seem to care. It wasn't hard to notice the fear going through the group, and within a minute, we heard the word that we all were dreading.
     Grievers.
     Newt and I heard a Shank say it at the same time. We exchanged a worried look before making our way to the front, to Minho, Thomas, and the others. 
     "Well, we knew we'd have to fight." Newt stated, he tried to sound un-bothered, but there was this tremble in his voice making clear he was just as scared as we all were. 
     "How many?" I asked at the same time as Alby and Ezra joined us. 
     "At least a dozen. Maybe fifteen." Minho answered, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. Drops of sweat dripping from his forehead. 
     "Maybe they've already taken some kid back at the Glade." Thomas spoke up, saying the terrible thing that everybody was secretly hoping for. "Maybe we can get past them. Why else would they just be sitting-" 
     He jinxed it.
     Loud noises from behind the group interrupted his sentence. The metallic clicking and wheezing from moving Grievers. As if on que, all of us turned our attention to the halls behind us, only to see even more of the metallic monsters. Their slimy bodies pressed against each other as they blocked off the entire way back to the Glade. Terrified, all the Gladers tried to back away from the approaching Grievers.
     Everyone got pressed together, forming a tight group. At the same moment, there was movement not only from in front of us but also from the side.
     The Grievers were walking to us from every possible direction, spikes extended, weirdly colored lights roaming the walls and shining on the children in the middle. We were trapped, no way out. Not anymore.  Subconsciously, I had reached for Newt's hand, and he had grabbed it as tight as he could. Normally, this would have calmed me down, but it had barely any effect on me this time. Fear was trying to take over my body entirely. It felt like a cold hand tightly squeezing shut my throat, and I was fighting for breath as best as I could.
     They had trapped us, the Grievers had known we were coming, and they just waited, giving us a false sense of control. Or, better said, the Developers knew we were coming and had ordered the Grievers to set this trap.
     Out of nowhere, the Grievers stopped walking towards us. Instead, they just stood there. Waiting. Only for what? The Gladers had started to huddle even closer together. This resulted in me getting pressed between Newt and Ezra. I could feel the slight tremble in Newt's body, or maybe it was Ezra's, or maybe even my own. I really couldn't tell at this point.
     "Got any ideas?" I heard Thomas ask Newt. He was pressed against Newt's other side.
     "No," Newt replied. "I don't understand what they're bloody waiting for." The tremble I felt before was slightly audible through his voice, and I squeezed his hand in an attempt to calm him down. 
     "We shouldn't have come," Alby spoke up. His voice sounded hollow, haunted. Like it had done before when he spoke about the world behind those walls. If I wasn't already scared for my life, his voice and words would have scared me.
     "Well," Thomas started. "We would be no better off in the Homestead. Hate to say it, but if one of us dies, that's better than all of us." The boy's words seemed to echo in my head. The Grievers had indeed only taken one of us each night up until now. Maybe that was what they were waiting for. Someone to come forward, one person they could take with them. Thomas was right. One person dying would be so much better than all of us.
     I looked at Newt, who was still holding my hand in his. He was looking at the Grievers behind us, fear written all over him, just as in everyone else's. Then my eyes fell on Minho and Ezra, my brothers, they didn't deserve to die. None of them did. Chuck, Thomas, Teresa, Alby. Everyone around me, even the Shanks I didn't know the names of nor ever spoke to. I wanted them to live.
     For the second time that day I was not sure what came over me, but I had made my decision. It was a stupid one, but still.
     Without a word, I slid my hand out of Newt's hold.  He didn't seem to think anything about it at first, just like no one seemed to notice me while I slowly had made my way out of the tight group. Determined, I walked towards the Grievers that stood between us and the Cliff. 
     "Cally?" I heard Newt's voice from behind me, but I didn't look back. 
     "It's okay," I said loud enough for the people closest to hear. 
     Before I knew it, Newt blocked my way, and two sets of hands grasped both of my wrists, jerking me back to the safety of the group.
     "No fucking way," Ezra bit at me, clearly angry at me for only thinking about it. He had grabbed a hold on my left wrist, while Minho had grabbed my right one. I glanced down at my restrained hands, before looking up at the three Gladers.
     "Someone needs to go," I stated, surprising myself with how calm I sounded. "I'm okay with going." While I said those words, Ezra's grip on my wrist tightened.
     "I would rather die than letting you scarifies yourself." Newt spoke, the tremble in his voice was entirely gone.
     I wanted to sigh and roll my eyes, but something in Newt's eyes made me stop. I knew I couldn't lose him, just as I couldn't lose Ezra or Minho or Chuck, but as I looked into his eyes I saw that he couldn't lose me either. I opened my mouth to say something, but my eyes saw movement behind the blonde boy, forcing me to shift my eyes from Newt to it. 
     "Alby," I whispered, shock and worry taking over my features again. This seemed enough for Newt and Ezra to shift their attention from me to him. While everyone's attention had been with me, we hadn't noticed him walking away from us. He was too far already for someone to fetch him. 
     "Get back here!" Newt yelled to his friend. Alby didn't respond, instead he ran. He ran to the Grievers that stood between us and the Cliff at full speed.
     "Alby!" Newt screamed at him, hoping he would hear him and turn back around. But he didn't, Alby charged at the creatures and jumped into the slimy body of the one closest to him. Immediately six other Grievers jumped on top of him, making it almost impossible to see our friend struggling inside the mixture of slime, grey skin and metal.
     The moment Alby had jumped, Newt started running, wanting to help his friend. Another wave of fear came over me as I realized what he was doing. I pulled my wrist away from Ezra and Minho before jolted forward- grabbing his arm. 
     "Let go!" Newt yelled without even bothering to look at me, trying to jerk his arm away.
     "Are you crazy!" I yelled back. "There's nothing you can do!" Newt was still trying to get away from me. I knew I wasn't strong enough to keep this up for long, Newt was stronger than me, but that didn't mean I was going to give up.
     Two more Grievers broke lose from their place in the formation to jump on Alby's body that was laying on the stone ground. It was hard to see, but Alby moved, he was still alive, even though he was bleeding heavily and missed multiple limps already. Apparently, Newt had seen it too. 
     "He's alive," He whispered, more to himself than to anyone else before he pulled lose from my hands. Swiftly I jumped in front of him, pushing against his chest to block his way, just as he had done to me only a minute ago. Newt didn't look at me while he struggled to get to his friend, but I wasn't going to let him.
     He managed to push me away once, getting me to stumble back a few feet, but before he could go any further I threw my hands around him. Hugging his arms against his sides while planting my feet in the stone ground beneath me as good as I could.
     I felt him struggle, push against me in an attempt to walk forward, but eventually he gave up. Newt stopped trying to get away, instead he wrapped his arms around my waist the best he could with me still restraining them and buried his face in the crook of my neck. One, muffled sob escaped his lips, so I hugged him a little tighter.
     "It's going to be okay," I whispered only loud enough for him to hear. I felt him squeeze me back for a short moment before he pulled back, holding me on armlength while staring at the spot Alby had disappeared once and for all. 
     "I can't believe it," Newt whispered. "I can't believe he just did that." The pain I felt for the loss of our leader and friend was nothing compared to the pain I could hear in Newt's voice. I was happy I hadn't seen what happened to him in the end, my stomach already felt like it had been tight in a knot, forcing all of it's content back up my throat, I don't think I would've been able to swallow it back down if I'd seen more. 
     Minho was the first one to snap out of the shocked state everyone seemed to be in. He walked closer to us, squeezing Newt's shoulder and for a moment I was angry at him. Angry for not helping me stop Newt. Angry that he had helped stopping me, but not Alby.
     "We can't waist what he did." Minho spoke before turning to Thomas. "We'll fight 'em if we have to, make a path to the Cliff for you and Teresa. Get in the Hole and do your thing-- we'll hold them off until you scream for us to follow. "
     Even though Newt had let go of me for the most part, only still holding one of my hands, I could feel him tense up at Minho's words. If it was because he was scared to fight, or angry because of the way he was talking about our dead friend wasn't clear to me.
     Thomas nodded to Minho. "Hopefully they'll go dormant for a while. We only need a minute or so to punch in the code." 
     I could feel Newt tense up even more before he let go of my hand, murmuring while he rubbed his eyes. "How can you guys be so heartless?" I had never heard this much disgust in his voice as he spoke with right now. 
     "What do you want, Newt?" Minho said, clearly not taking the insult. "Should we all dress up and have a funeral?" Newt didn't respond, he just stared at the point where the Grievers were. Their bodies smudged with the bright red stains of Alby's blood.
     My stomach turned when I realized the monsters were eating his remains. Not able to look at it anymore, I looked away, but Newt was still staring at it. "Alby didn't wanne go back to his old life. He fucking sacrificed himself for us-- and they aren't attacking, so maybe it worked. We would be heartless if we wasted it." Even though I didn't want to, I had to admit that Minho was right. Alby had done this for us and if we didn't do something with this opportunity right now, it would be dishonest to Alby. Newt seemed to realize something similar, only he just shrugged, closing his eyes for the image in front of him.  
     "Listen up!" Minho spoke to the entire group of Gladers, getting their attention. "Number one priority is to protect Thomas and Teresa. Get them to the Cliff and the Hole so--" 
     Minho got cut off by the sounds of moving Grievers. The monsters seemed to be done with Alby and now all of them had turned themselves to the rest of us. Lights shining on our skin, spikes popping in and out of their bodies while they reformed back to their old formation. All at once, the Grievers started to march to us from every direction. Their big grey bodies covered every inch of the halls, blocking off everything. All of their pins, needles and other metal instruments were aimed at us. Set to kill.
     Despite all of it, there was only one thing I could think of, something that made all of this even worse.
     Alby's sacrifice had been for nothing.