Before long, Newt falls back and taps Minho on the shoulder. "You lead the way now."
He nods and sprints to the front to lead the Gladers.
You run on and on and on. Gladers who aren't accustomed to running gulp in deep breaths of air, but no one stops. Beetle Blades streak by, some keeping pace with you. There seem to be more than ever now. You try not to think of what they might mean, of what may follow, but your mind won't let you. If there's so many watching, then--
The group halts. You're at the alley which leads to the Cliff. You can't see it, but you've been there so many times it's impossible not to know exactly where you are.
Whispers flow from Glader to Glader. Jack, who's in front of you, pales at the news before he turns to you with terror in his eyes.
"A- at least"-- he swallows, trying to regain his voice-- "At least a dozen Grievers. Just waiting for us."
The blood drains from your face. Why would there be a dozen if they're only going to kill one of you. You nod and whisper the message to Newt.
He nods and pushes past the others to the front of the line, you and Alby following.
"Well, we knew we'd have to fight," he says, his voice trembling.
Minho nods, his eyes hardening, but Thomas stops and thinks for a moment. You don't trust yourself to say a single word, sure you'll end up stuttering or your voice coming out an octave too high.
"Maybe they've already taken a kid back at the Glade," Thomas whispers. "Maybe we can get past them-- why else would they just be sitting--"
A roar cuts him off. You whirl around to find Grievers rolling towards you from the Glade, spikes flaring and metal arms groping. Even more Grievers appear on you right and left, surrounding you and the rest of the Gladers.
YOU ARE READING
The Cost of the Cure
FanfictionOne day, you wake up with no memories. You know two things: your name and the fact that you are terrified. You find yourself in a strange place called the Glade. Even though no one else remembers anything at all, you find it harder than ever to brea...
