Griever Tamer|| The Maze Runner¹/ Minho

|C.27|

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Blake had decided to go visit Thomas that next day. The Homestead crawled with people, repairing damaged on walls and even the stairs. Blake passed busy Med-jacks who were swarming in and out of Thomas's room. She wondered if they did the same when she got stung. When Blake got to the room she was greeted by Teresa, who was sitting by Thomas's side.

"Oh. Hello, Blake," she smiled, standing from her chair.

"How's he doing," Blake asked, walking over to get a closer look. Thomas looked terrible. Skin sickly white with dark green veins popping out of his arms and neck. Black circles hung under his eyes like a shadow.

"Best he can be doing, or at least that's what the idiots are telling me. He screams and mumbles a lot. We put him into the Slammer last night to keep him safe from the Grievers."

"Do you know who they took?"

"Not sure the guy's name, but they only took one person. The Grievers went through the house like it was nothing. You made them tough," Teresa said, eyes fastened on Thomas.

Blake couldn't figure out where she had known Teresa from, or why she cast a bad vibe off to Blake. "Well, I guess tough was the goal when creating them."

Teresa's blue eyes stuck on her for a moment, seeming like she was trying to freeze Blake in the ice blue color. "I'm guessing Newt told you about the code."

"Yeah, anything new on that?"

Teresa shook her head. "Same words. Same order."

Blake's eyes wandered to Thomas. "Hope he remembers something useful."

"As do I."

"Mind if I have a moment alone with him?"

Teresa's eyes stumbled on Thomas, worry filling them. She nodded and walked to the door, looking back just before she left. Blake sat in the chair next to Thomas's side. She didn't know why she waited-it was like she thought her presence would wake the boy up.

It didn't. But something did happen. Another flashback filled Blake's head.

Blake was really young, maybe around the age of six. She sat next to a woman. A really sick woman. Blake could tell the women used to be pretty, that her blond hair wasn't always thin and matted. She wished she could remember the women's blue eyes without the look of madness and despair.

"Are you going to get better?" Blake asked the women, who was looking down at her nails which were bitten to the skin.

"No. I just hope that others will be stronger than me to wait for a cure, but I can't wait any longer. I'm sorry." The woman had a tone of bitterness to her voice. Angry at the words she was telling Blake.

"What's going to happen to you, Mommy?" Blake asked, a kind of squeak filling her small voice.

Her mother shook her head, trying to shake a thought out of it. She looked like she had a bug in her hair. Blake's mother tapped her foot repeatedly against the floor-like she was trying to distract herself.

"Don't worry about me. Remember to take care of your siblings. George might act brave, but he is hurting. I need you to take care of them." The last words were more soothing like a gentle whisper.

"I will, Mommy."

"Good. One last thing," her mother's face grew more serious. "Don't let them take you or your siblings."

"Who, Mommy?"

"Wicked."

+++

Blake didn't tell anyone about the flashback. She wanted to figure this out on her own, and everyone was too busy worrying about everything else, she didn't want to add extra weight to that.

Wicked. The note, the Beetle Blade, her tattoo, what her mother told her. It all had something to do with Wicked. Who were they? Why didn't her mother want them to find her? Why did she keep seeing and hearing that word? What was so special about them?

Questions only pounded in her head.

"Are you okay?" Hawk asked, waving his hand in front of her eyes.

"Uh, yeah. Why?"

He gave her a look. "You keep zoning out."

Blake crossed her arms looking like a little kid. "No, I haven't."

"Then what have I been talking about?"

"About the destruction the Grievers did. How your hand hurts from smacking nails into a board. Complaining, complaining. Blah, blah, blah."

"Well, you would be complaining too if your hand felt like it was going to fall off," Hawk groaned, rolling his eyes and leaning against the wall.

"Don't see me complaining about my feet hurting from being a nail-brain Runner," Blake mumbled, biting into her apple.

Hawk rolled his eyes playfully. "Sorry, the other Builders are a bunch of old grumps. If you complain to them; they'll throw you right to the Grievers."

"Why don't you become a Runner? Help us figure our way out of this place."

Hawk looked at Blake, different looks playing across his face. He finally set on one, giving Blake a sad smile. "I'm a big baby when it comes to those things. I couldn't run from a Griever if it was for the life of me. Plus, the whole Maze is too complex for my shuck head, probably get lost after the first turn. The only thing I'm good at is with these babies," Hawk says, holding his big hands up. "I have never really been good at anything else."

She shrugs. "Sometimes, you push beyond limits to do something you never knew was capable."

Hawk chuckled, showing deep dimples. "Never heard someone sound so smart, probably cause I'm surrounded by idiots all day long. You were probably a genius before all this. Too bad that intelligence didn't come back."

Blake gave him a playful push but smiled too.
"Thanks by the way for standing up to those ding-dong Builders for me."

"You know me always saving a damsel in distress," Hawk says, an arrogant smile playing across his boyish face.

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I love Hawk so much. Hehe. I feel that their relationship is refreshing, and I love how he
can make her happy despite what's going on. I hoping to write more chapters like this, not just with Hawk, but with other characters, too.