Hunt Me Down

Ben of the Builders

"Has anyone tried climbing to the top?" Thomas asked, continuing his stream of hypotheses on how to escape the Maze.

I rolled my eyes, a basket on one arm as I picked ripe fruits off the vine. Newt stood nearby, leaning against the wooden frame the vines hung on while the Keeper of the Track-Hoes, Zart, tended to the lower plants. Thomas had been spit firing ideas for a while and we had humored him, listening to the end before refuting him, but our patience was getting thinner by the comment.

"Tried it. The ivy doesn't go all the way to the top," Newt sounded beyond bored, "And besides, where are you gonna go from there?"

"And what about the Box? You know, next time it comes up-" Thomas didn't even finish when Zart piped up from below.

"No, we tried that. The Box won't go back down with someone in it." He didn't even look up, just kept digging shallow holes in the ground for fertilizer, I almost laughed.

"Okay, what if we-"

"No, we tried it, alright?" Newt interrupted, jaw tense, "Twice."

I wasn't around back then, but I knew about the bodies. How the boys, George and Sean, had been severed in half both times. I'd seen the bones myself, it must have been a gruesome sight and I was thankful I hadn't been there to witness it, though I knew all too well how much those moments haunted those who had been there. How Newt had woken up in panic when he was sick with a fever, shouting and withering, crying because he was brought back to those moments in his nightmares.

"Trust me. Anything you think of, we've already tried," I turned to look at Thomas, absolutely done with his pointless interrogation, "The only way out of here is through the maze," I pointed towards the open doors with a blueberry stained finger.

Thomas groaned and I raised my eyebrow, "you wanna be helpful?" I tossed him a bucket and a shovel, "Here. Go dig us up some more fertilizer."

He looked at me annoyed for a moment before stomping off in the direction of the woods, almost tripping over the wooden frames. I shook my head and went back to my picking. Zart stood up a few moments later.

"Hey, Newt, come help me ground up some dirt in the area we just cleared, we need to plant those strawberries soon."

Newt picked up his shovel and gave me a wink before following Zart to another area of the gardens. I kept up my harvesting in silence. I enjoyed the ease of it, the fresh fruits under a warm sky. It was the most rewarding part of being a Track-Hoe and I for one was very proud of my blueberries. They were practically my babies, I'd been growing and harvesting them myself for two years and the other Track-Hoes knew better than to touch them without my permission. They were by far my favorite plants, my little section of blueberries. The other rack of them were fair game, but even Gally helped take care of my plants.

He'd always come by to make sure the stands were steady. At that moment, my brother walked over. They had finished up the major projects already, his boys disbursed and doing small repairs and improvements here and there. Gally liked to help me out when he wasn't busy, always insisting it was bonding time, but I secretly thought he did it because he enjoyed picking the fruits too. He searched carefully for ripe fruits and sliding them into my basket.

"How's the Greenie doing?" He asked humorously.

"Being a theorist," I laughed, "I thought Newt was going to implode from annoyance!"

"Oh really? Where'd you send the kid off to anyways?"

"Thomas? I sent him to dig up some more fertilizer, keep him from just standing around." We moved a bit further, setting down one fruit basket to grab a fresh one to pick apples off of the two trees we had.

Gally was considerably taller than me and was able to get the ripe apples I couldn't reach. It was nice spending time with him, these little moments were my favorites.

The peace was broken as a yell was heard from the woods. Gally and I looked up to see Thomas racing out of the trees at top speed, waving his arms and yelling. For a moment, I couldn't figure out for why. Then I saw Ben behind him. Ben lunged forward, attacking Thomas and forcing him to the ground. I dropped my basket and followed Gally as we ran over to help.

Ben was screaming, pinning Thomas down and trying to choke him. Newt came up from behind the Builder and swung the shovel in his hand, knocking Ben off of the Greenie. Gally, Adam, Alby and I held him down as he struggled. Thomas made it to his feet, looking shaken, but otherwise unharmed.

"Calm down, Ben!" I wrestled his arm down, trying to keep him from going after Thomas again or anyone else for that matter.

Instead of calming down, he withered in our grasp, a continuous stream of "No!" falling from his lips. He seemed distraught and out of his mind, showing off the symptoms we all knew too well. He looked up at me with desperate eyes.

"I saw him," He muttered and I furrowed my eyebrows, "Please, please."

"All right," Newt said after checking that Thomas was safe, "Lift his shirt."

Ben began to struggle with more vigor, screaming "No!" louder and louder. I dug my knee into his arm so I could push his shoulder down. Keeping him on the ground was more difficult than we anticipated.

"Lift his shirt!" Newt demanded and someone did, "He's been stung."

Newt was right. A large puncture wound dug into the side of Ben's lower stomach. Dark black and green engorged veins twisted from its epicenter. It was horrible, but I could barely pull my gaze away. Ben had stopped struggling, simply lying limp on the ground now that his secret had been exposed.

"Help me, please. Please," He begged, looking up at us in fear, "Please, just help."

But Ben knew as well as the rest of us that there was nothing we could do, there never was for a Griever Sting.

"Put him in the pit."

Ben tried to throw us off of him desperately, begging and pleading for help. I felt bad, I really did, but I couldn't let him go. He grabbed at one of my arms, nails digging into my left forearm drawing blood. I bit my lip to keep from screaming, trying to adjust my grip to get his nails out of my skin. He dragged them down about an inch before the other's noticed. I let go and sent my right fist into his face. His hand retracted quickly, opting to cradle his nose instead.

"Med-Jacks!" Someone called.

I stood there, cradling my arm as Ben screamed as he was dragged away.

"Please, stop, please! He did this! Please stop! No! No, please! Help me! I'm sorry! PLEASE!"

I didn't know what to think. I knew Ben, I was there when he came out of the Box all scared and confused. He was a good guy, he never meant to hurt me and I knew that. It was difficult to wrap my head around the fact that this wasn't Ben, this was the sting, the venom that turned his veins black and green. It wasn't the first friend we had lost to a Griever Sting, and I knew it wouldn't be the last, still, Ben didn't deserve this. No one did.