The Cost of the Cure

Chapter 10

Looking through the grimy glass, you start to make out figures. The thing is, though, they're not humans. They're huge, bulky, slimy, monstrous things. The blood drains from your face as the sun glints off a sort of metal appendage snaking from one of their bodies. Somehow, it's a part of them. There's needles, saws, pincers...

One of them screeches up to you in a rolling blur of motion, their fatty flesh suctioning to the glass. You jump back, a scream building in your throat as you suck in a deep breath.

"Wha- wa-" you stammer, trying to gain control of your voice and breathing. "Was that a- a Griever?"

He nods. "Nasty little buggers, aren't they?"

You shudder, wondering how Newt escaped with only a broken leg. You doubt he wants to talk about it, though.

"How many are there?" you ask. "Have any ever gotten in here?"

"No bloody idea. But, they've never come into the Glade. As long as you're here, you're safe."

"How do the Runners survive out there?" you whisper. "They're crazy."

Your eyes widen, realizing your mistake as your cheeks flush with heat. "Sorry, I didn't mean... I-"

He grins, an almost boyish look coming over his face, a stark contrast to his usual serious, tired look. "No offense taken. Any sane person would be scared out there, too. And, they're usually not out there during the day. The only thing you can count on though, is them being out there and hunting at night. If the Runners don't make it before the Doors close, they're dead. No one's ever survived a night in the Maze."

You open your mouth to ask what the Maze even is other than outside the Glade, but Newt interrupts you, a teasing light gleaming in his eyes.

"Tour," he says.