The Maze In Her Heart (Newt, Minho ::The Maze Runner.) ✔

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE: Things Impossibly Get Worse.

MARIE

The plan is simple. 

We're going to sleep through tonight, and if what Gally says is true, we're going to sit tight and hope that the Griever doesn't pick us. And if any of them try to lay a hand on one of us, we'll fight like hell. Lamar doesn't play, and when I was watching him show his sword fighting techniques to a terrified George, I had no doubt that one more night in this place wouldn't be so bad. 

In the morning, if the others had gotten the weapons, we'll gear up and set off. The others are busy, and to occupy my time and settle my fear soaked nerves, I decided to take a long walk around the Glade. There were many places I hadn't discovered yet.

Maybe I should take a nice warm shower.. I think until I realize that the shower will need warm water to use and that Frypan is using that water. I guess it can wait. Hopefully outside the Maze there will be working showers.

Outside the Maze.

Fear expands in my chest. I've never been so afraid and nervous, but Minnie doesn't look scared, and if she is, she doesn't show it. 

Words can't even express how much I admire my sister- from running willingly into the Maze all the time, to being able to keep a level head through all this chaos, being surrounded by boys as well... It made me wonder if there was anything I could do to be more like her. 

I see a pile of knapsacks by the Maze walls, all filled to the brim. I make my way over slowly, running my hand along the walls, searching the little name tags. I see mine. 

Marie, it reads, with a little heart colored red. I wonder who did it, and I turn over the tag. The signature on the back of it makes me smile. Minnie and Newt, both in different types of chicken scratch. I smirk and walk a little bit more down the line, and check the tags. All were personalized, and sure enough, when I see Minho's sack, it has a heart too, and the back only reads Minnie.

I see a familiar head bobbing across the glade, attached to a lean body. 

George, and he looks annoyed. 

He has a bucket of water, and under his armpit is a bar of un-used soap. He sets down the bucket a few feet away and stares at me. "Wish to wash up? Newt requested I bring you a bucket of warm water to wash up, with some soap." 

I take the soap and smell it through the thin plastic covering. It smells like almonds and coco butter. I look back at George, who was holding the bucket with a strained smile on his face. The nail was still in his ear.

"Thanks George." I smile, taking the bucket. I drop the soap inside it and the plastic crinkles slightly. George nods and walks off back to the Homestead, pink hair flying around his face and the wind picks up. 

Man, this is gonna feel so good.

I walk towards to clean stalls and shut the door.

After my shower, I'm dressed in a new outfit, which I ended up having to make out of my resources on free time. I had clumsily cut off the sleeves of one of Newt's spare shirts, and had to also cut off the length of a pair of his jeans. With no girls clothing around here, you had to improvise, and nobody could deny that. Nobody stared when I wore Newt's clothes, and nobody stared when Minnie was wearing Minho's old runner get ups, that he had long grown out of.

I walk into the Homestead, busying my hands by twiddling my thumbs. In the corner, a few Gladers are conversing, holding flasks of water and drinking every now and then. Frypan stumbles out of the kitchen holding a mixing spoon, his apron even dirtier than before. he rushes back in as if he forgot what he came out for. Minho runs down the stairs into the crowd of Gladers in front of me, coming out to the left, racing towards the den. I don't see Thomas, but Sammantha is milling around gracefully, her long dainty legs giving her an advantage as she trots around the boys, arms full of supplies. Minnie comes down the steps looking winded, Lamar and Gorge closely following her. They both take a turn towards the kitchens and they disappear in the crowd. Finally, I see Newt's blonde hair in the crowd. He doesn't notice me, in fact, he looks slightly annoyed.

His shirt is tied around his waist again and his arms shine with sweat. I notice he's barefooted, the wooden creaking under his feet. He brushes his hair from his eyes. His jaw clenches as there's a loud commotion from the den. 

I take a step forward, reaching out for him. "Newt? What's wrong?" Had something happened? Some new development that nobody knew about? But something told me nothing had happened that I thought- that something far more gut-wrenchingly horrible had happened.

I swoop into the crowd, brushing into people. Chuck is sitting in the middle of the den, looking healthy and plump, like every child should. I glance around to see horrified looks on other peoples faces, and don't notice what's wrong- until Newt stumbles back, running right into me.

I blush as I find myself staring at his grim face. He's hasn't moved, only looking surprised, shocked, and angry.

"What's wrong?" I say as I hear Chuck scream. My anger is forgotten as I look over Newt's shoulder as the young boy. I see Minho hunched over him, then looking up, eyes squeezed shut in concentration.

"We need that stuff we used on you. Right. Bloody. Now." he says.

"What?!" I scream, the Gladers turning to look at me. Newt wraps an arm around me but I'm still facing him, my hands outstretched. "No, stop! Where's the Griever?"

"Chuck got stung right outside the Maze walls, filling those bloody bags! Now come on, we can't waste any time!" He says, pushing me forward. I resist. 

Chuck grimaces in pain, his face pale and strained. I need to help my friend.

"Marie! I swear on everything!" he says angrily, before swooping me up and swinging me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. 

The last thing I was able to see as Newt rushed me from the Homestead was Chuck lifting his shirt, and revealing a perfect puncture in the middle of his round stomach.