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SAMSON SHUT HIMSELF DOWN FOR THE REST OF THE TREDGE BACK TO THE GLADE. His head hung low as he walked with his feet dragging along the gravel, his mind reeling with all of the memories he'd just been given back during the Changing. He was so disappointed in himself. He'd gone through so much trouble to get the codes and it had all been for nothing.
Thomas and Minho pulled him along, but nobody spoke. Samson could feel their eyes on him every once in a while, but he wouldn't dare meet their gaze. When they finally turned the corner back into the Glade, Chuck and Zart were standing by the entrance in disbelief.
"Yeah!" Chuck cheered, running towards them. The rest of the Gladers all made their way over to the walls and joined in on the applause, their questions flooding out as the Runners came closer. Samson tried to stand on his own, pulling his hands up to his ears to try and block out the chatter from the others as it rang in his ears.
Alby pushed past everyone else and called for the Med-jacks. Newt wasn't far behind. His eyes were sunken in and dark. It was obvious he'd barely slept. Samson scanned the crowd of boys and realized they all looked terrible. A wave of guilt washed over him again. Some of the reason the boys had gotten no sleep was because of him.
"I knew sending you into the Maze wasn't gonna be a good call," Alby sighed.
Jeff and Clark came through the crowd and took Samson from Thomas and Minho. Samson tried to send Clark the best smile he could manage. He'd missed him.
"I'm glad you're alive," Clark whispered.
Samson nodded in response, shutting his eyes. "Get me out of here," he said, so quietly he was sure nobody had heard him. He couldn't be around anyone right now, too afraid he'd hurt someone without thinking. Samson knew the Changing was still affecting him, he could feel it coursing through his veins. He didn't want to end up doing something he'd regret like Ben had.
When he opened his eyes again, Samson was being pushed onto the bed in the Med-jack hut. He let Clark and Jeff rip his already-torn shirt right off of his body and watched them remove the haphazard bandage Minho had wrapped him up with back in the Maze. Without realizing it, he began muttering the three codes to himself, not caring if the Med-jacks thought he was crazy. He felt crazy. He figured that as long as he had those first three codes, there had to be some way the Gladers could figure out the last ones. It couldn't have been that hard.
But then again, they had been in the Maze for two years with zero luck.
Once he was all bandaged up and Jeff had given him a dose of painkillers, Clark sat back in one of the chairs and sighed. He leaned forward and took Samson's hand, but Samson reluctantly pulled back.
"Sorry," he croaked out. "I just...I don't know what the Changing is gonna make me do. I don't wanna risk..."
"No, it's okay, Sam," Clark smiled lightly. "I get it."
