Without A Choice // The Maze Runner [Book 1]

SEVEN

It had been a week since Alby, the Runners and I, eventually, had been going back into the Maze to find the spot where Ben had been stung in hopes of finding a clue of why a Griever was out in broad daylight.

My mind had been fogged that day after being paralyzed in fear of standing in front of a Griever so I couldn't remember clearly where I had stood when I saw the Griever.

I was running next to Minho and looked around me, trying to find anything that could be useful. I looked up the walls and didn't see where I was going. My foot stepped on a rock and my ankle twisted the wrong way. I let out a pained yell and sunk to the floor. The Runners stopped and Minho kneeled down in front of me. 

"You gotta watch where you're going, you know?" he said with a grin. "You okay? Can you stand?" he asked then. I nodded and took his arm as support. As soon as I tried to put pressure on my twisted ankle, I let out a hiss. I bit down on my teeth and pushed through. 

"George, get her to the med-jacks. I think her ankle might be broken," Alby ordered George, one of the Runners. George nodded and I wrapped my arm around his neck for support. 

I hopped back to the Glade on one foot. Luckily, we had been relatively close to the entrance and I didn't have to walk that far. George took me to the med-jacks shack and called for Clint, the keeper.

"She twisted her ankle while running, Alby thinks it could be broken," George informed him. Clint nodded and took my arm from him. He took me to the examination room where he sat me down. 

"I feel so stupid. I should've seen where I was going," I huffed as I sat on the bed.

"It happens to the best of us. The Slicers cut themselves by accident all the time. I accidentally dropped a glass jar on my foot last week, it needed five stitches," Clint chatted. He always made everyone feel at ease with him, that was one of his many talents. 

"Well, Alby was wrong. It's not broken, only twisted. Cool it three times a day and no running for at least a few days." Clint pushed himself off of the ground after examining my ankle. I sighed deeply. "I'm sorry, Leah." He patted my shoulder and helped me off the bed. He handed me a pair of crutches and I hobbled outside with them.

I retreated to the Slicers and stopped by the pen of the sheep. I squatted down next to the fence and two curious sheep approached me. I pet their noses and they blew air at me in return.

"Shouldn't you be out, running?" a voice spoke up behind me. It was Thomas.

"Yeah, I wish. I twisted my ankle. I won't be running for a while," I huffed. He sat down beside me and fiddled with some grass.

"About earlier-"

"Nothing happened. We didn't do anything and we won't ever do anything, okay?" I snapped, slightly ruder than I meant to. 

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry for asking," he quietly said.

I got up and hopped away. It was around lunchtime, so I retreated to the kitchen. Frypan was already preparing the lunches of the Gladers. "Hey, Fry," I greeted him and stole a tomato slice from the cutting board. 

"I thought you weren't coming back until later?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, that was the plan until I twisted my ankle because I wasn't looking where I was going," I replied, munching on the tomato slice.

"Typical you," he grinned to himself. I rolled my eyes but laughed anyway. 

I stayed and chatted with Frypan until lunch was ready. I helped by handing out plates until everyone had lunch. We had potatoes, salad, and sausage. I sat down next to Chuck while Newt sat down on the other side of me. 

"You're an idiot for tripping over a pebble, you know?" Gally, who was sitting a few seats away from me, stated with a boyish grin. I looked at him in annoyance. 

"Who told you?" I asked. Gally nodded in Newt's direction. I sighed and looked at my best friend in annoyance. 

"Stop spreading rumours because it wasn't a pebble, it was a fairly big rock. And I didn't trip, I stepped on it," I corrected him wittingly, earning laughs from the other boys. 

***

Halfway through the afternoon of the next day, rain started pouring out of the sky. It was unusual to have rain in the Glade. It happened, it was just unusual. Everyone sought shelter under the pieces of canvas and wood that merged to be our sleeping shack. 

"They should be back by now. What happens if they don't make it?" Thomas asked.

Minho and Alby had gone into the Maze this morning, but the doors were about to close and they weren't back yet. An uneasy feeling was sitting on the bottom of my stomach.

"They're gonna make it," I stated, saying this was more to ease myself than to assure Thomas.

"But what happens if they don't?"

"They're gonna make it," Newt repeated my words.

I used to love the rain. I enjoyed the sound it makes as it fell down on our shacks and the way it smells, rain leaves behind this unique scent after the grass, soil and plants were watered by the downpour.

But right now, I wished the rain would stop. All I cared about was getting my friends back.

The rain stopped eventually and everyone gathered around the entrance to the Maze. There had been no signs of Minho nor Alby. The doors started rattling and the infamous gush of wind came in our direction, sending shivers down my spine. Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized what was about to happen. Two of my friends were going to be locked inside the Maze. And no one ever survived a night in the Maze.

The doors started moving in the direction of one another. "Oh no," I heard Chuck say and I clasped my hands over my mouth.

"There!" Thomas suddenly called out. I looked up and saw Minho and Alby rushing for the doors. 

"Something's wrong," Newt said. He was right. Minho had to drag Alby along with him. 

"Come on, Minho, you can do it!" Chuck bellowed. The crowd roared to encourage Minho to keep running, but deep down, everyone knew he was never going to make it.

Then, the most unexpected thing happened. Thomas thrust forward and sprinted through the gap between the almost shut doors. 

"Thomas, no!" Newt and I tried to stop him, but he was already gone.