Ashes to Ashes (Newt, Maze Runner)

7: Remember

The Gladers ran by my side, slowing their pace considerably as I stumbled, wincing. Newt eyed me along the way, taking my hand when I fell back. There wasn't much else he could do.

Thomas and Chuck had been there when we entered the Griever hole, and they had been the first ones to brave the slide down a slimy, narrow tunnel. Minho had gone after, the others following suit. Newt smiled, nodding for me to take my turn. I frowned in apprehension.

Stepping into the tunnel, I winced as I tried to fit my body through the narrow hole. The thought of my weight had never crossed my mind before then.

I gasped when I took an involuntary dive down the depths of the tunnel, air rushing against my open wound. For a second I was glad that I wasn't able to hear, but the idea quickly vanished, replaced by sudden nausea. It crept up my stomach, making it nearly impossible not to give in. I held my breath in attempt.

My feet hit the floor at the end of the tunnel. I gasped for air, barely taking in a breath before doubling over, retching and vomiting. It wasn't so much the slide down that made me feel so sick as much as the thought of the Gladers, yelling for help before the Griever's claws ended their life. I shuddered.

Newt was rubbing gentle circles in my back, quite soothing in a way. Minho looked at me amusedly. I stuck out my tongue at him, showing off the dirtiness still on it. He looked away, disgusted with my childish behavior. I smiled in satisfaction.

Looking beside me, I watched as Thomas scooted away, throwing up. I suppose the slide downhill wasn't just terrible for me.

Newt reached for my hand, helping to pull myself up beside him. I leaned onto him, suddenly tired and weak. Retching out my insides didn't help when I had a terribly injured ear. I hung onto him as our small group of Gladers made our way to the entrance of a chamber of some kind.

In front of us stood dark tinted windows, pale and boney figures bustling around inside.

The Creators.

~*~

I watched, apprehension in the air as we waited, not knowing what else there was to do. I wanted to run up to them, demand how they could do this to us. How could they take our lives from us so early on? I wanted to do something. Anything that would relieve the mounting tension in the atmosphere, the hate that built up. I knew all the Gladers were having similar thoughts as I was.

Out of one of the tinted rooms, a plump woman walked out, bringing a boy alongside her. He looked to be younger than Thomas, maybe by a year or so, but I knew I had never seen him before. The woman, on the other hand, shared a look with me that I couldn't forget. Not even if it was my greatest desire to forget her. As I looked at her, my mind alluded to someone else. A petite, brunette child. Her eyes were of a subtle blue, reminding me of the sky. It was myself, no doubt. And there was no doubt that this woman, whoever she was, certainly played a part in my memory.

For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, I felt like I could remember something.

Her mouth moved in words that I couldn't make out. All I could sense was how the boy's tensed behind me, how their jaws clenched in hatred. I supposed that this Creator was giving them more reason to hate her.

Minho walked up to her, shouting, by the looks of it. His eyes were wild, to the point that I could almost see the animal side behind it. I frowned, stepping back. This wasn't something I wanted to be involved in. Minho looked like he was on the verge of getting physical.

He stepped back, his eyes even more wild - if that was possible - when the woman told him her response. Then the boy stepped in. The young man, of whom I didn't recognize. I made out his dark brown hair and green eyes. Not charming or pretty green eyes, like you might imagine, though. The color reminded me almost of a snake.

He shook, violently. Almost to the point he looked like he was vibrating. It was a horrible thing to see, with his snake-green eyes bloodshot, filling with tears as he shook uncontrollably. A dagger being pulled out of his waist-band.

My eyes widened.

No one had time to react before it was hurled at Thomas.

No one but Chuck.

o