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LEO AND GALLY RAN TO SAMSON'S SIDE, EACH OF THEM TAKING A SHOULDER AND LIFTING HIM OFF OF THE BED. Even though he hadn't even gotten the chance to fall asleep, Samson felt like he had just been abruptly woken up from a nap. He was groggy and disoriented. He tried to plant his feet and walk to lift some weight off of his friends, but when he did, he nearly fell face-first into the floor of the Med-jack hut. Samson caught himself at the last second, his breath hitching in shock. Gally and Leo pulled him back up and the three of them hobbled out of the hut, Samson pressing his hand into his bandages for support.
"What's happening?" Samson asked, his voice cracking.
Gally pushed the door open. The sun was beginning to go down around the Glade, but it was far from peaceful. Gladers ran past them, carrying lanterns and spears in their hands. Samson's eyes fell on the East Doors of the Maze. It was well past curfew for them. They should have closed long ago. But they stood tall and wide open, like a bad omen waiting to happen. Samson gulped. The Creators were up to something.
Thomas, Teresa, and Minho came running out of the Homestead towards them.
"Leo! Samson!" Thomas called from across the field. He stopped in front of the trio and took a moment to catch his breath. "We have a plan, okay? If the Grievers come-"
"They will come. Why do you think the Creators opened the Doors?" Gally spat back.
Thomas rolled his eyes at the Builder. "Gally, we don't have time for this."
Gally turned away from Thomas, glancing over at Leo. "You're right. We gotta get Samson somewhere safer. He's not gonna be able to fight them off when they come, he's still recovering," he took one last look at Thomas and frowned. "Come on, Leo."
Leo shook his head at Thomas, and he backed off, stepping back and heading towards the rest of the Gladers. Gally and Leo hoisted Samson back up on their shoulders and watched Thomas run back to the others.
"Guys--" Samson started. He suddenly found it hard to breathe, and he couldn't tell if it was because of his injury or because he was terrified. Something told Samson that if he encountered a Griever again, he wouldn't just be stung. He'd be killed. Still, he didn't want to burden his friends. "Please, I don't want you risking anything for me."
"Sam, would you shut it?" Gally groaned as he carried him along.
They took him all the way to the Box, stopping just in front of its lid. Samson had to admit, it was a good hiding spot. And it was big. They could fit so many Gladers in there, save so many.
Samson lifted his head. "We've gotta help the others," he croaked out. "Clark..we need to find Clark."
Gally ignored him, and Samson was too tired to pry. Leo and Gally set him down on the grass for a moment and they each took a side of the Box, lifting the lid up. Leo jumped down first and Gally helped Samson pull himself up again, grabbing him by the shoulders. He and Leo worked together to get Samson safely down into the Box. Leo sat him down in the corner and Gally closed the Box over them, enveloping them in complete darkness. Samson laid his head back against the cold wall of the Box and tried not to think about the last time he'd been stuck in this position.
