Before Her

Jane 15

Jane
I stare into the maze, wondering when Newt and the other runners would be back. The sun was setting fast, shooting vibrant colours across the glade's sky. Many gladers had gone back to their jobs, finishing up for the day. The other runners, the med-jacks, keepers, Alby and I had set up camp outside the maze entrance that Newt, Ed and Jace had gone in. The sun was close to halfway.

Gladers everywhere did everything they could. Frypan had cooked up a storm, there were plates of food, put on a table next to the maze along with maybe a hundred bottles of water. Med-jacks had set up a table right outside the maze as well, first aid kits almost every direction you looked, and stretchers for each runner, just in case. Gladers were already being divided into swat teams, different jobs passed to different people as soon as the runners got back. Minho and Alby took charge of the gladers, giving each other pep talks, and making wild gestures along with glader sign language that only the runners and the keepers understood. I marvelled at how well they were keeping everything under control. How well organised they were and how everyone seemed so calm. It was impossible for me to sit still.

I went around, helping everywhere I could. Med-jacks ran around fussing everywhere, making sure everything was clean and following orders that Andrew or Alby had yelled at them. The sun was half set, three tall, muscular boys, stood at the front of the entrance to the maze, waiting to enter the minute Alby gave the signal. He held up three fingers and nodded once. In a heartbeat, they were in the maze, disappearing down the same lane that Newt, Ed and Jace had gone.

Hope was what kept me sane, hope was what kept me from screaming from the frustration and stress, knowing that someone might be dead and that we had sent a few others on a suicide mission to find that person.

The sun was going down too quickly, it was too fast. They needed more time. Most gladers had finished their jobs and we're now crowding around us, the med-jacks, cooks, and runners, waiting for a miracle.

And then it came. Our miracle, loud, distance voices, all shouting, yelling, screaming.
Blonde, brown and black hair, blurring as they ran towards us. First came the three boys who hadn't gone in long ago, then came Jace, Ed... and Newt. It took a few seconds for me to realise, as they cleared into view, that he was carrying someone. He'd hauled someone onto his right shoulder and was running for dear life.

Cheers erupted around the glade, along with Alby jumping into action and barking orders for everyone, and telling the rest to move back so that the runners had space. Immediately after the each runner stampede into the glade they were bombarded with gladers, cooks handing water and med-jacks immediately checking for injuries. I waited for Newt who was the last into the maze. Tears streaked his eyes, deepening the circles around his eyes. He ran into the glade and flopped the boy he'd been carrying onto the closest stretcher, before collapsing into the next one. Med-jacks swarmed around them, Andrew somehow managed to push through and yell at people to start taking them into the infirmary.

Before they took him away, I managed to steal a glimpse of him, skinny blonde haired boy, and even though his eyes were closed I knew what colour they were, they were green. He was the shy boy who'd given me a pink flower this morning, before running off. I had placed it on top of my pile of clothes in the corner of Newt's bedroom.  I didn't even get the chance to ask for his name.

~~~

None of the runners who went in to find the boy were badly injured, according to Ed and Jace, they had found him on the floor, close to the end of the maze, left alone in a pool of blood. His shirt was ripped and his supplies were gone. He was breathing very, very slowly. Andrew and the others were desperately trying to keep him alive, though I overheard some of the other med-jacks, he had a very small chance of staying alive.

Newt wasn't injured either, he was just really exhausted since he'd already been "sick", and had carried the boy all the way back to the glade. Running with someone the same weight as you knowing you might not make it back in time and being drunk the previous night had really exhausted him. After the med-jacks had made sure he had no injuries, they'd put him back on the stretcher and carried him into his room.

I stayed in the room, looking after Newt as he thrashed and screamed and cried in his sleep. The colour drained from his face, sweat beading his forehead. I constantly tucked him in, pulling the covers over him as he kicked them off again and again. I tried, I tried to put him out of his misery, his nightmare, his fears, but no matter how many times I tried, he wouldn't listen, wouldn't wake up. He kept thrashing until he couldn't anymore, arms refusing to move anymore, crying until his pillow was soaked with salted tears, screaming until no sound came out at all.

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