Admit Defeat (TMR fic 2)

Chapter 61

(song~)

Newt is shaking me, trying to get me to stand up. I struggle against the noise, my hands pressed to my ears and my eyes closed tightly. It's a screaming, grating, shrieking sound. I hate it. It makes my bones grind and vibrate with the pitch of it.

I stumble to my feet as the sound stops, and I notice what has happened. Pieces of the desert itself all around us have turned over, revealing a black square of ground with a single box centered on each one.

They look like coffins, just too large.

"Those are like the things in the Griever-hole," Minho shouts about the wind that is whipping past, ripping the ribbon from the Safe Haven stick.

"Too dry for Grievers here," Newt answers. "Wonder what they're sending."

The lids of the containers lift open. After a moment of consideration, I grab the Safe Haven stick. It's not much, but by the size of those boxes we'll be fighting something a bit too big for hand-to-hand combat.

A limb, much like a stumpy hand with no fingers, emerges from every single box, hooking on the edge.

I stare at one of them in complete fascination. A monster pulls itself out. I can see it in the storm's darkness because it's glowing. Small lightbulbs adorn it – several on the chest, the shoulders, one on each hand... three are lined up on what I suppose is the head, although it's just a fleshy projection on top of the shoulders.

They're huge and disturbing creatures, but they don't seem that frightening-

Metal claws shoot out of the stumps of their hands. Oh. Those look very sharp.

None of the weapons we have are practical for injuring the monsters. They're clearly tough-skinned and built with primarily bone and muscle. Do they even have vital organs? If they're hybrid creatures of technology and flesh like Grievers, then WICKED chose what weaknesses to give them.

They're all walking towards us, and us Gladers are shaping up into a circle to face them, picking who will fight which monster. The girls with bows are firing arrows into the approaching creatures, trying to injure them.

They don't react.

WICKED would give them a weakness that we can actually fight. They want us to win. The Gladers charge just as I realize. The lightbulbs. It has to be.

I race forward after the others, going to the monster Minho had chosen. Newt follows me, a worried protector.

Minho has a long knife and is trying to get close enough to land some hits without being decapitated by the long claws. I lift the Safe Haven stick and send it forward over him as he attacks. I hit, and one of the lightbulbs breaks.

There's only the slightest glitch in the monster's movements, but I can see it. I'm right.

Newt and Minho realize almost immediately what I'm doing, and Newt and I work to break the lightbulbs with our longer weapons while Minho distracts it. He nearly loses his nose, but thankfully Newt breaks the fourth bulb at the perfect moment and the monster glitches more extremely, its movements stopping for a full moment.

After that, it's easy going.

We take down one, and then another. A girl from Group B had been trying to fight it, but it had slashed through her neck and she was dead on the Scorch.

I accidentally stumble on the dead girl's hand at one point, but I don't look down. I don't allow myself to care.

A Glader screams as the monster he's fighting sends its claws through his stomach in a ripping motion. The boy hits the ground a few moments before he dies, squirming and crying. I'm headed towards the monster. Now that no one is fighting it, it could hurt many more people.

The lightning reaches it first, though.

Just like before, it's like the sky itself tore in two. The flash of light is bad, but the sound is all-encompassing.

My ears ring, and the world has gone completely silent. The wind is still pushing against me, but I can't hear it.

Newt grabs my wrist and starts pulling me away from the monster that had been struck, still smoking on the ground. I follow him and realize that he's taking me towards one of the containers.

Minho is already inside it, and we pile in after him as he pulls the lid shut. The lightning rains down, bolt after bolt. It sounds like a huge piece of ice being launched at a hard surface – heavy and breaking and deadly.

One hits our container. It doesn't hurt us, but we can feel the structure jolt, and see the crack in the top left behind by the blast of energy. My heart is pounding so hard it feels like it will jump out of my chest.

We're almost out of time. We're going to die here.

No.

We will not die. Not on WICKED's terms. I look at my watch, making the screen glow so I can read it. Thirty seconds before our week is up, before we're out of time. Twenty-five.

"Ready?" I say, my voice sounding distant to my still-ringing ears.

"Ready," one of them answers. I can't even tell if it's Newt or Minho speaking.

We throw the top open, and start running back towards where I had taken the stick from. The others are emerging from the containers they had hidden in.

A Berg comes roaring down from the sky, a group of the monsters gathered in a silent wall between us. The final push, the last fight. But now, with hope burning in our veins, we are unstoppable.