Burn; TMR ➵ Thomas

Seventeen | ✓

Amelia kept a steady pace as she ran with the other Gladers along the stone pathways. She ran behind Minho and Thomas, who both lead the way to what she hoped was paradise and not another hell.

Minho slowed at a corner, then stopped, holding up a hand to tell the others to do the same. He turned with a look of horror on his face.

"Did you hear that?" he whispered. He crept ahead and peaked around the sharp edge of the stone. Minho jerked back. Then everyone heard it. Griever sounds. It was as if they were hiding, waiting and now coming back to life.

"How many?" Amelia asked.

"Maybe fifteen? They're just waiting for us," Minho replied. The icy chill of fear bit her harder than ever.

Thomas turned to give Chuck the machinery they had gotten from a Griever when she had made him a Runner. He told the young Glader to stay behind them.

"It's okay. You'll stick with me," Teresa reassured the young boy. Amelia felt someone grip her wrist, she turned to see Thomas.

"Stay close and safe," he told her. She smiled in return, rubbing his knuckles in reassurance.

"Maybe they've already taken a kid back at the Glade. Why else would they be just sitting—" Amelia was cut off by a loud noise behind her. She spun to see more Grievers moving down the corridor towards them.

Spikes flaring, metal arms groping, coming from the direction of the Glade. Thomas was just about to say something when he heard sounds from the other end of the long alley — he looked to see yet more Grievers. The enemy was on all sides, blocking them off completely.

They were surrounded. No one said a word. She trembled as she was pressed between Thomas and Newt. Her heart was palpitating wildly. The only sounds she heard were the eerie moans and whirrs of machinery coming from the Grievers. Their disgusting bodies heaved in and out with mechanical wheezes of breath.

"Any ideas?" she looked over at Thomas who shook his head.

"I don't understand what they're bloody waiting for," Newt's voice was just the tiniest bit shaky.

"We shouldn't have come," it felt weird to hear Alby's voice again, he'd been so quiet, especially with the hollow echo the Maze walls created.

"It's like their waiting for someone to sacrifice themselves," Amelia eyed one of the machines, revolted by their moist skin. A long moment passed before Alby replied.

"Maybe I should..." He trailed off. Amelia snapped her head towards him.

"Oh, hell no," she muttered, grabbing a hold of his bicep before he could even think about walking towards the creatures.

"Like you said, they might be waiting for someone to sacrifice themselves." His features softened after seeing the heartbroken look on Amelia's face. After all, he was her first friend in the Glade. He was there for her through almost everything. "It was nice meeting you."

Before she could respond, Alby took off running. He headed straight for the pack of Grievers between the group and their exit.

"Alby!" she and Newt screamed in unison. Alby had already made it to the monsters, jumping on top of one. Amelia moved away from Newt and Thomas, almost running after Alby before five or six Grievers had burst to life and attacked their leader.

Thomas reached out and grabbed her by the arms before she could go any further. She collapsed in his arms, a few tears coming out as she watched her friend being ripped apart.

"We can't waste what he did," Minho squeezed her shoulder. "We'll fight 'em if we have to, we'll keep them off until you scream for us to follow.".

Amelia was still on the floor. Not wanting to accept what had happened. She kept staring at the spot where the Grievers seemed to be feeding on him beneath them. She saw a smear of bright red on one of the creature's bodies. Her stomach turned and she darted her eyes onto the floor.

Newt helped her to stand again, but she still felt numb. Minho started telling the group something but was cut off by the sounds of Grievers reviving to life.

The creatures on both sides of their group seemed to have noticed them again. Spikes were popping in and out of their blubbery skin; their bodies shuddered and pulsed.

"It failed. Alby's sacrifice failed."

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"We shucking fight," Amelia brandished her machete. The group looked at her. "We ain't gonna let Alby's death happen for nothing."

Her voice was hoarse, small tear stains were visible on her cheeks.

"We get through that hole and live the lives we've always wanted outside of this hell."

The Grievers steadily charged towards them. The group readied their weapons before charging towards the hole. Only with long, sharp sticks, weapons like machetes and daggers, the small group of Gladers attacked. Chuck and Teresa ran to the hole with the machine.

A Griever got a hold of one of them and threw him over the edge. The group finally managed to get one killed. Another two appeared and ran after Teresa and Chuck.

Everything was a blur. The walls opened for Teresa and Chuck. Amelia was with the rest of the group fighting Grievers with nothing but a machete. She felt something slice her arm and her leg, but she thought nothing about it as she fought for her life.

Teresa yelled over the sound of machinery and shouts of the Gladers for the code, eight numbers. Minho started shouting the sequence until a Griever fell on top of him.

Almost biting Minho's face off, Amelia saw Jeff run out in the corner of her eye. The dark-skinned Med-jack stabbed the creature with his weapon, freeing Minho from the Griever's grasp. Unfortunately, the Med-jack's bravery costed him his life.

Minho yelled out the last few numbers as they fended off the Grievers. Amelia turned to see that the hologram where Teresa had entered the numbers in turned green. The walls above the Grievers crushed them one by one. The last Griever charged itself towards the group. With one last effort, Amelia threw a wooden stick at the creature, causing it to fall and get crushed.

The disgusting goo was the last thing she saw before her sight became dark.

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The book's almost done! Woohoo! Still unsure if I should write that sequel though.