Murder In The Maze (Maze Runner Fanfiction)

Chapter 11: Suspect #1

"Hey, Greenie!  You're just in time!"

     A gentle smile beams across Jeff's face from eye to eye.  Newt remains seated on the edge of one of the closer hospital beds, Jeff lingering over him, tightly clenching something in his right hand, and a vial of something in his left.  Dust swirls through the air, catching the back of my throat as I approach them.  

     "In time for what?"  I ask, leaning over the foot of the bed.  Newt turns his head towards me, his jaw gripped firmly.  A deep gash penetrates his upper left forearm.  Pools of blood trickle over the bed beneath him, seeping through the white sheets.  

     "Training," Jeff remarks, tossing a bandage towards me from his right hand.  I rush towards Jeff, promptly unravelling the bandage.

     Newt turns, shifting his gaze towards me, "About time ya show'd up, Greenbie."  Jeff ambles towards the medicine table, tossing the vial down.  

     "I already cleaned it, all you gotta do is wrap it up."  He adds, pointing towards Newt's wound.  Reluctantly, I step closer, leaning down on one knee.

     Crimson blood streams down over his arm, red streaks rolling onto the cotton white sheets beneath him, "What do I do?"

     Jeff peers over me, ruffling up his sleeves, "Start at his hand, then work your way down to the elbow.  Second one this week had Winston in a couple of days ago, them slicers are always cutting themselves."

     I rest the beginning of the bandage on Newt's palm, "What happened?"

     Wrapping it around, I pull the bandage around the gash, securing it tightly.  Newt winces, tensing his arm.  "Sorry..."  I mutter, loosening my grip slightly.

     "It's fine.  Cut it earlier, on one of 'em shrubs by the garden."  He remarks, relaxing his arm as I continue, "You ok?  That looks like it hurts."

     "Shrubs?" I look back down at the wound.

     The bleeding subsides a little as I tie it off, securing a knot.  Newt shrugs, turning his eyes to the window, "Had better days."  Jeff leans over, his eyes fixed on Newt's arm, darting back and forth across the bandage, "Not too bad, a bit tight but, does the job."

     I lean back on my feet, pushing myself up from the ground, and walk towards the table.  Newt grunts as he hobbles to the door, "Thanks for helping, Greenie, you're gonna be catchin' up on Jeff before ya know it."

     I smirk, grabbing some medical supplies from the table, first a bandage, then a small vial of alcohol.  I reach my hand into the bag, something strange irritating my hand.  Without hesitation, I peer into the bag, spotting a piece of frayed rope.

     My mind drifts back to only a couple of days earlier, Wyck.  My stomach turns at the image of him seared into my head.  A loud thud snaps me back, the sound of the door slamming behind Newt.

     I reach for the rope, gripping it tightly, and bolt out through the door, "Wait!"  I shout, stomping off into the Glade.  The midday sun beats across Newt's face as he ruffles his brows, "What's it now, Tammie?"

     Tugging the rope from my bag, I hold it up for him to see, "I, uh, don't suppose you'd know where this came from?"

     "The greenhouse, why ya want to know?"  He replies, squinting his eyes suspiciously.  I stuff the rope back into my pouch, "It's a long story."

     The door creaks as I enter the greenhouse.  A musty smell fills the room, broken shafts extending above me with light flooding in through the gaps, the warm air tickling my skin.  Dirt clings to rusty tools scattered across a wooden table at the right of the small room.  I reach for a coil of rope hanging over the table from a hook clutched to the wall, just the same as the one used on Wyck.

"What are you doin' here?"

     Gally bursts in through the door, flailing his hands into the air.  I speedily jolt the rope behind me, turning to face him, "I could ask you the same thing."  

     "I asked you a question, shank."  He grunts, stepping closer, looming above me.  Raising my eyebrows, I flick my ginger hair out of my face, "So did I, you first."

     Gally huffs in annoyance, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips, "Fine, I'm getting some tools.  Your turn, Greenie."  I pull out the rope from behind my back, "I found rope like this, the other day, with Wyck, thought I might be able to figure out where it came from.  Gotta start somewhere."

     "If you're talking about what I think you're talking about..." I cup my face into my hands, interrupting him before he can continue, "Not this again, Gally."  

     His eyes widen into saucers as he crosses his arms, "You don't think you're gonna find anything, right?"

       "Not if I don't look,"  I smirk, shifting back to table.  "Fine..."  Gally mumbles beneath his breath.  I scan my eyes across the area, a red stain of blood lies smeared on the table.  I dab my fingers over it, no blood transferring to my hand, it must not be that recent.  Why would there be blood in here?  

     "Find anything?"  Gally scoffs, annoyance riddling his tone.  I toss the bundle of rope back over the hook, "Yes, actually, I did, blood by the looks of it."  

     Gally casts his eyes over, a sudden look of anger falling over him, "Stupid shanks, they know I just finished fixing that!  It's not even been a week!"  He says, pointing to the table.

     "Who?" I ask.  "The slicers, who else?  It ain't like the entire Glade works with dead animals, Greenie.  If they think they ca-"  Promptly, I interject him, "What if it wasn't animal blood?"  He huffs once again, "What are you talkin' about?"

     My heart throbs as the pieces fall into place.  "Jeff!"  I shout, flailing my hands into the air.  "What?"  Gally blurts, his face still devoid of expression, "Only one other person could have cut themselves sometime after you fixed it,  Jeff mentioned it earlier!"

     With that, I burst out the door, knowing exactly where I'm headed.