Beyond Life

Chapter 7 : Griever!?

Newt's P.O.V.
(Same timeline as Cat's point of view, reliving what happened before she meets Rose)

I rolled over for the second time that morning, using a hand to shield my eyes from the bright sun already high in the sky. I sat up slowly, glancing down at where Cat had been the first time I woke up. She wasn't there but I didn't panic, remembering clearly that she'd stood and walked off with Thomas.
They were both sitting a few yards away, talking quietly, heads close together so they could hear each other, presumably without waking me up again.
While I watched them they suddenly both tensed looking into the field behind them. Thomas had his hand on his boot, ready to grab his knife and Cat looked... My sleep deprived brain searched for a word close enough to the expression on her delicate face..- frightened.
I frowned, taking out my own knife and standing up, pain shooting up my right leg as I put weight on it.
It wasn't an unusual feeling to me, having lived with my limp for over two years, but it still hurt as badly as it had the first time I stood on it.
I had become accustomed to it though, learning to deal with it.
As I walked over I heard Cat ask what it was.
"Griever." Thomas said, his eyes full of fear.
My chest tightened, constricting in faint fear. Grievers had killed so many of our friends.. I had always assumed them to be a maze exclusive monster, it had never occurred to me, to any of us, that they might be out there in the real world. Uncontrolled and having no limitations to their actions.
Our eyes connected and my hand tightened around my knife, glancing at Cat who looked at us both, confused.
"What the heck, is a griever?" She asked. I stared at her in shock for a moment then remembered, she had never been in the maze. She had been forgotten about by most of the staff members, never placed in a group.
She was locked into a room and told it was for her protection. Nobody had ever told her the truth which was that she wasn't needed. Just a mistake, an extra person they didn't want nor need.
I looked into her green eyes and couldn't help feeling sorry for her. Sure being in the maze had sucked, and the fact that we were just pawns in a game to WICKED was worse but I couldn't imagine knowing that my life literally had no meaning to anyone.
'Not anymore.' I said in my head ferociously. Now she had me.
And Thomas, a voice in my head told me, tones of jealousy shadowing my logic, making something out of nothing. There was really nothing to be jealous about when Cat didn't belong to anybody. She was her own person and I certainly would never want to change that, not in any way. Besides, our relationship was purely platonic, nothing more nothing less.
Keep telling yourself that buddy.
Thomas explained in hushed tones about grievers.
Her eyes widened and her skin paled.
The familiar chilling sound of whirring and metallic clicks finally reached my ears, making me turn my head in the direction it was coming from.
And there it was across the field, the gigantic creature with spider-like legs and pincers rearing up in the air, clearly aggravated.
Cat gasped and stood, backing away, right towards me and before I could warn her she crashed into my chest.

Cat's P.O.V.

Newt grunted as I backed into him. I whipped around, tripping in the process and falling against him.
He caught my elbows and held me up.
I looked up into his eyes and found them full of concern and some other emotion I couldn't put my finger on.
"I uh.." I stumbled over my words, unsure what to say. "Sorry?" I finally offered.
Newt smiled and helped me stand properly, keeping a hand on my arm.
Any other time I would have pushed it off and told him to keep his hands to himself in a joking tone but this time it comforted me.
He knew more about the monster approaching us and I trusted him to tell us what to do, he had been second in command in the maze and that can't have been for nothing.
Thomas was looking at Newt, waiting for him to do just that, clearly in the baby of it after the maze, despite having only been there a short amount of time.
"Right." Newt ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair and squeezed my arm gently. "Bloody hell. Alright. We can run or we can fight."
Thomas gave Newt a look, his eyes dropping briefly to Newt's right leg.
"Newt, you can't run." Newt nodded, looking miserable but stubborn at the same time.
"But you two can." Looking up at him I saw the fierce determination that fought the guilt and hopelessness in his eyes. If we stayed and fought and died he would blame himself because we didn't run, because of him.
But if we left, he knew he would die. He refused to look at me and I put my hand over the hand he had on my arm.
"Newt, we aren't leaving you." Thomas and I said at the same time.
I flashed Thomas a smile, grateful that he wasn't a person who was just going to let Newt sacrifice himself for us and dropped my hand off Newt's.
A strong wind had started up whilst we talked, and the griever sounds carried to us louder, amplified by the wind rushing in our direction.
We all turned and watched the griever with anxious expressions set in our exhausted faces.
Thomas turned and put his hand on Newt's shoulder. They shared a look that I doubted I would ever fully understand and then, as if they had just had a full conversation without my knowing Newt was pulling me over to the trees with determined purpose.
"Newt what -" he pushed me towards a tree and quickly whispered "climb greenbean." Whilst looking back over his shoulder.
It seemed logical to me, being high up and out of reach of the ugly monstrosity's dangerous sharp pincers; yet something stopped me. I turned back around to face Newt, confusion swirling through me.
"What about yo-" he turned and put a finger against my lips, shushing me.
"Thomas and I are going to fight the griever. If one or both of us die or are stung I need you to be safe from both us and the griever."
What was he on about! Whatever being stung meant, anything in the same sentence as dying couldn't be good.
"Newt no!" I gasped, swivelling to look at Thomas, astounded that he agreed to this as well.
If Newt couldn't run then he would hardly be able to fight!
Newt groaned and grabbed my face, forcing me to turn my head back towards him look him in the eyes.
"Yes! Because I care about you bloody hell! I can't let you get hurt!" His voice raised an octave and all I could do was gape at him silently, not knowing what to say.
What did he mean, he cared about me? As in had feelings for me or just cared for like.. My mind searched for a word that seemed suitable.. Like a sister.
I couldn't decide how I felt, about either option right now because the Griever noises were growing louder and the look of panic on Newt's face was enough to convince me that I didn't want to be standing here much longer.
"NEWT! ALITTLE HELP!" Thomas yelped as the griever approached him. He danced out of the way of one of its sharp legs.
Newt glanced over at him then looked back at me, letting go of my face.
"Please Cat." He whispered before taking off after Thomas and the griever, sliding out his knife.