" WHITE BLOOD " T. MAZE RUNNER¹

thirty.

[CHAPTER THIRTY]

~

Eleanor chewed on an apple as she sat at an empty picnic table in the Kitchens. Winston had let her go early that morning, and Frypan was kind enough to give her a pre-lunch snack of a freshly-picked apple. Her eyebrows were pulled together slightly as she watched the figure of Newt wander around the Glade. He had his hands stuffed into the pockets of his trousers, and Eleanor could see the worried look stretched across his features from where she sat as he watched each of the Doors anxiously. Minho and Alby had gone out into the Maze as soon as the Doors opened that morning to find the Griever that the Runner had talked about the day before, and they had yet to return. Eleanor had no idea how long it took to get to the Cliff and back, and she remembered that Minho had told her that the Griever was a couple of miles out into the Maze; she was sure that it took more than an hour to run several miles and back, as well as check out the supposedly dead Griever.

Eleanor looked away from the pacing boy as Thomas and Chuck took a seat at the table in front of her, nearly identical looks of confusion of their faces as they watched Newt. Thomas looked to Eleanor as if she knew what was wrong, though she simply shrugged. She glanced to her left as she saw someone slide into the bench beside her, surprised to see that Newt had given up on his pacing and decided to join them. The blonde boy chewed on his fingernails, something that Eleanor had found was a nervous habit of his, his eyes flickering over each of the Doors anxiously.

Chuck and Thomas exchanged a glance before the shorter boy spoke, his voice low as if he didn't want Newt overhearing him, "What's wrong with him?" he asked, looking between Thomas and Eleanor for an answer.

"I don't know," Thomas replied with a shrug, and the two boys looked to Eleanor for an answer.

The girl shrugged, glancing at the blonde boy out of the corner of her eye. "Hell if I know."

"I can hear every bloody word you guys are saying," Newt suddenly spoke up, his voice laced with annoyance. "No wonder people hate sleepin' next to you shanks."

Eleanor felt as though she had just been scolded for doing something terribly wrong, and she exchanged a guilty glance with Thomas as Newt sighed once more. Chuck seemed to be the only one that wasn't bothered by the boy's remark, and he leaned over Eleanor to get a better look at him. "What's wrong with you?" he asked. "No offense, but you look like klunk."

"Every lovin' thing in the universe," Newt responded with a sigh, running a hand nervously through his hair. His lips were pursed as he stared off into space for a moment, worry evident in his features. Eleanor was about to ask him if he wanted to talk about it, though he continued before she had a chance to do so. "The girl from the Box. Keeps groanin' and saying all kinds of weird stuff, but won't wake up. Med-jacks're doing their best to feed her but she's eatin' less each time. I'm tellin' ya, something's very bad about that whole bloody thing."

No one spoke for a moment, taking in Newt's words as if he had just told them how to escape the Maze. Eleanor realized that she hadn't heard much about the girl from the Box before then, and she wondered if the boys were purposely not telling her things; perhaps it was because she was a girl, and they felt that she would get angry. Whatever the reason was, it angered her quite a bit.

"Shuck it," Newt suddenly muttered, pulling her from her thoughts. "But that's not what really has me buggin'."

"What does?" Chuck asked before Eleanor had a chance to do so.