Ashes to Ashes (Newt, Maze Runner)

5: Sacrifice

I couldn't help but recall the previous night in the Slammer, with great annoyance at the lack of respect the boys had given me. For at that moment I lay restlessly in a rather hard bed at the Homestead. Really, it was a peaceful night. But perhaps too peaceful.

Everyone, no doubt, was terrified out of their wits for what came tomorrow.

And yes, me included. My cursed mind would never settle, as images of Grievers - the horrifying beasts I had only heard of - attacked me.

My fantasy (or nightmare, would probably be more fitting) grew ever more traumatizing, as a boy came to my rescue. Newt. Perhaps it was the reality of it that struck me; it was only upon seeing him that began to get my heart to pump drastically. Was it only my self-given ignorance that blinded me from what was staring me right in my face?

I cared about him...

——-

With the light of the morning awoke my awful fear. It was like a sickness, biting at my stomach, making standing up without doubling over a task.

Without another choice, I begrudgingly opened my eyes to the new day.

"Lois and Newt gather the weapons!" Minho said. A perfectly normal sentence, I reminded myself, for even when there was no spite in his tone, it coursed its way through my veins. "And before you ask, everyone's doing their part, Lois. You're not sitting back this time, whether you like it or not."

This time, he had the spite and bitterness. Keeping my face emotionless was a harder task than you may assume. However, Newt and I headed to the Homestead without a word.

"Don't worry about Minho. He can be a shank sometimes," Newt commented as we gathered the weapons.

"Why do you think everyone hates me?" I whined, though more to myself than him.

"Well... They've been here longer, and had to work harder. But you know - I don't hate you."

I smiled then, a genuine and sincere smile. I know I said it before but - Newt was really the only one in the Glade who could bring this happiness on to my (admittedly) bitter face.  And yet, I wondered if this feeling only stretched out into the limits of the Glade...

With weapons gathered and people organized, we stood at the entrance of the Maze. My first, and last, time standing here since I was brought back by Thomas and Minho. 

"You don't know what's going to happen once we leave. You could die here," Thomas stated rather morbidly. His expression was grim, but inside I thought that all he was trying to do was be the hero. Like when he took me from the Maze? And acted so kind? I saw then that all it was was a scam to get people to believe in him.

With that, he turned his back to the Gladers for the final time.

With that, we ran into the unknown.

We ran and ran. It was hard to say how long- hours on end at least. I felt like my insides had had enough, and were finally about to give up, like every breath was to be my last, and every step would bring me closer to my death. Unfortunately, the only person who seemed to struggle as much as me was a fat child looking about three years younger than me. Chuck, wasn't it?

Finally, finally, we had reached the edge of the cliff. What looked to be a dead end. I felt a hand slip in mine, tell me it was going to me okay. Or was that just my imagination, my willpower saying I can go on? 

A shrill noise awoke me from my contemplation, sending icy fear down my spine. A Griever... Two, three, more... My heart began to race faster than my running earlier. Faster than even my zooming thoughts, that began to cloud up with denial. I couldn't die, not here, not so horribly.

Alby then stepped forward... What was he doing? How could he be so stupid? Newt seemed to have the same reaction, though he acted upon it. "Alby... What are you bloody doing?"

Without a response, Alby left his friend, torn to shreds. It was too gruesome to watch, and even worse to think that what if that was me?

Within seconds, however, the Grievers turned on us. And Alby's sacrifice didn't mean anything anymore.