"So when did you- you know- fall in love with her?" Thomas smirked, knowing he had him right where I wanted him, with his head in Fionaland.
"Woah," Newt defeated with his hands up, "What?"
"I may be slow to getting to know things around here, but...
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"Come on, this way!" Thomas shouted, taking us down a turn that put all the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. He peeked around the final corner, the one that led to the exit. Face instantly grew paler, even with the exhaustion from running for so long.
"Is it a Griever?" Chuck asked the question we all wanted to know.
"Yeah."
"Shit." Chuck swore, running his hands up and down his backpack straps.
"You take this, Chuck." Minho handled the youngest boy his things, "Stay behind us."
"It's okay," Teresa assured him, "Stick with me."
Thomas focused back on me, I nodded at him. Giving him my full support. "Once we're through, it will activate and the door will open. We stay close, we stick together... we get through this. We get out now... or we die trying."
"Ready?" I whispered yelled to all of them.
"All right. Let's go!" Thomas yelled, jumping back into a full sprint. Diving straight into the grievers territory and we did the only rational thing we could think of- Follow right behind him. The Griever found us in seconds. It's flesh and metal even more disgusting than I could have imagined. I thought this creature smelled bad when it was dead but it must have smelt like rotting fish and stale metal all the time. The entire room reeked of it. Our battle cries were answered with a rawr ten times the size as it marched with all the speed of it's six legs.
I hated my brain sometimes, but before I decided if I wanted to know the odds of thirteen kids attacking one Griever, I knew the answer. There was less than 2% of surviving the sight of one, attacking it seemed like a deathwish. In my head, some of us were already dead.
Everyone with a spear had it pointed at either the griever's chest or head. Any damage inflicted was a gained bonus for us.
Thomas took a step forward, "Push it!"
I jabbed the beast and ducked under its swirling tail. It realized attacking us as whole wasn't working to its full benefit and changed its gears to attack us individually. It's metal claw spun, picking Mike straight out of the center of us, chucking his body against the wall. I had to wish he died on impact so he wouldn't have to experience the drop into hundreds of feet of darkness below.
I found a new kind of hatred for the griever in that moment, pushing it with my spear and getting close enough to actually stab it's oozing skin with my machete. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the key go flying through the air, rolling to a point where it was dangerously close to the edge.
"Teresa!" I scrambled, since she had the one job of keeping it safe. Without that, we all die. A zero percent survival rate.
Chuck took his little legs as fast as they could as we dove the griever to the edge. Chuck dove, his arm reaching over the side of the concrete to catch the device. I could turn my whole attention back to the beast. Seeing it panic as it used its claws every effort to stay away from falling to its death. We all breathlessly watched it fall. The instant relief washed over all of us at once.
