Infinite (Newt fanfiction)

Chapter 37

The Glade was in a frenzy.

Every single Glader that could be spared was preparing to leave. Carving spears, sharpening their axes and knives. This was really happening. They were going to leave in a day. Thomas claimed he could remember how to get out, and everyone was counting on it.

But the doors didn't close.

Everyone waited. Ten minutes passed. Twenty. The gaping doors remained open and instead the other three opened. Screaming and yelling was all that was heard in the Glade.

Grievers. They were coming for everyone.

"Alright everybody hide!" Thomas shouted.

People took off in multiple directions and Grievers invaded the Glade. Boys who held torches or lanterns were taken or stung first.

Isabelle breathed heavily and her fingers dug into Newts palm. They sat in the Homestead, listening. Others were there with them, like Minho, Winston, and Frypan. They were all waiting to be killed.

"We need to do something!" Isabelle whispered urgently. A boy screamed in the distance but his cry was cut short and Isabelle cringed.

"We can't! They'll kill us!" Newt hissed back.

"Well I'm not going to be waiting like sitting ducks when they do!" Isabelle stared fiercely at the front door when the sound of a Griever got near.

It passed the Homestead and everyone breathed an audible sigh of relief.

"Stay here if you want," Isabelle stated. "but I'm going to fight back."

Frypan stood along with Minho.

"Bloody insane," Newt muttered and stood too. He'd fight with her even if it meant getting killed in the process.

Isabelle slid silently out of the Homestead and the boys followed behind her. She crouched low and sprinted to the nearest building. The med-jacks hut. Minho and Frypan diverted to the builders hut where the spears were stored.

Newt put a hand on her shoulder. "What now?"

"We wait," Isabelle breathed. She stared intently at the wandering Grievers.

"For what?" To be murdered? Did Isabelle even have a plan? Probably not.

"This," Isabelle said louder and moved forward. She caught a spear Minho equipped her with and spun around to throw Newt one. He caught his too and looked at the end. He definitely liked hiding more.

They all crouched by the side of the hut, breathing heavily with hearts pounding.

"HELP ME!" Someone shouted. It was a younger voice and Isabelle froze. Chuck.

Isabelle peered into the Glade for her brother. There. She saw him hanging onto the roof of the Gathering Place and a fire was kindled inside her.

Without warning, she sprinted across the Glade, narrowing avoiding a thrashing Griever who hadn't noticed her. She tried to stay on her toes, silent and fast in the dark.

She gripped her spear tighter and stopped at the base of the prying Griever. It'd have to try a lot harder to take Chuck from her.

She thrust her spear into the fleshy part of its stomach, hoping that would be the end of it. Of course it wasn't.

The Griever wailed and let go of Chuck. He fell back into the Gathering Place and Isabelle breathed a sigh of relief for a moment. But now the creature was on her and the three boys that had came up behind her.

And man, was that Griever pissed.

It retracted its arm and traded it for a long pointed needle. Isabelle moved out of the way just in time for the Griever to strike the ground instead.

She heard Newt yell as he chucked his spear forward, hitting the Griever in its mouth. Frypan and Minho threw theirs too, all of them burying deep into the Grievers flesh.

The Griever gave one last cry and swipe at Isabelle before it fell backwards. The Grievers round, fleshy body burst open and a tinted green slime splattered on Isabelle's cheek.

She wanted to puke. The smell was vile and made her stomach churn. She turned to face Newt who had a horrified expression on his face.

"Dare you to kiss her cheek," Minho smirked.

Newt rolled his eyes and stepped up to Isabelle. "Are you alright?"

"Perfect," Isabelle breathed shallowly. She wiped the slime off her cheek and onto the ground. It helped the smell, at least.

Another boy cried out. Isabelle whipped to attention as did the rest. It was Tyler, one of the Track-Hoes. Isabelle sprinted forward, but she panicked. She'd never make it! The Griever was already to the Maze doors. If it went any further, Tyler would be lost.

Isabelle shouted at the Griever and threw rocks, but it paid no attention. Without spears, the attempt would be useless anyways. She kept running until she was at the entrance of the Maze. She stopped and watched the Griever turn the first corner into a long path. Tyler was gone. The other a Grievers had already left or been killed, and all that was left was fire, destruction, and broken hearts.

Isabelle sunk to her knees and fought the tears that threatened to spill out. Newt finally caught up with her and kneeled next to her.

"What happened, are you okay?"

"I didn't want anyone else to die," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

Newts eyes softened and he put his arms around her. He held her close and rocked her back and forth. The tears spilled out of her eyes and for the first time, she doubted if she could actually do this. Survive. Fight back. Wouldn't it just be easier to give up? Let the Grievers have her?

"You can't save everyone," Newt murmured and she burrowed her head in the crook of his neck.

"Why not?" She knew it was a silly question to ask.

Newt thought for a moment before answering. "Because not everyone is meant to be saved."

It was a simple sentence to Newt, but to Isabelle, it changed everything.