Fog In the Memory • TMR Book 1

Chapter 7

We begin at the Box, which is closed at the moment- double metal doors lay flat on the ground and are covered in cracked, white paint. The day has brightened considerably since this morning, and yet I still can't find a sun anywhere in the sky. Alby points down to the doors.

"This is the Box, as you probably know, where we get our newbies -like you- and our supplies. We get a newbie once a month, and we get our supplies once a week. Oh, speaking of which," Alby says, pulling out a box. "This came up the same time you did so I can only assume it's for you."

I peek inside the hot pink box he hands me, seeing tank tops, sports bras, period supplies, and other feminine things. I blush and give Alby a sheepish grin, thanking him.

"Now, we don't know jack about the Box," he continues, "We don't know where it comes from, how it gets here, or who's in charge of it. The shanks that sent us here didn't tell us squat. Got most everything here that we need to survive. Tried to send a slinthead back down once- Box wouldn't budge until we took the kid out. Glade's cut into four sections. Gardens, Bloodhouse, Homestead, and Deadheads. You got all that?"

I repeat the locations multiple times in my head, ensuring I know what they are, then give Alby a nod. His eyelids flutter a bit before continuing as he gives a certain look like he'd rather be anywhere but with me at the moment. 

He points to each corner of the Glade, explaining, "Gardens- where we grow crops; water is pumped through underground pipes. Never rains here, but I've never questioned it since we still get water. Bloodhouse- where we raise and slaughter animals. Homestead- it's twice as big than when we first got here since we just keep building onto it."

My head spins, swarming to grasp onto all of this information Alby's just thrown at me as he points to the last corner. "Call that the Deadheads. Graveyard's further in the back in the thicker part of the woods. You'll spend the next week or so working for our different job Keepers until we know what you're best at. Slopper, Bricknick, Bagger, Track-hoe, Builder, Runner- somethin'll stick, always does. Come on over here."

I follow him as the two of use walk to the South Doors, near the Bloodhouse, where Alby describes, "Back there's where the Slicers work. Nasty stuff if you ask me; but if you like blood, then this is the job for you."

My stomach churns at the thought and I quickly shake my head as I feel color start to drain from my face; I jog catching up to Alby who immediately resumes the Tour. "Out there's the Maze. Two years I've been here, and ain't none been here longer. Two years we've tried to solve this thing, and no luck. Walls change every night, as if Mapping it is hard enough."

Two years? Alby's been here TWO YEARS? How in the world is he still sane? And wait- the walls move? How do you- My thoughts are interrupted by Alby's voice.

"Rule Number One-ain't nobody, nobody, allowed outside those walls except for the Runners. Break rule one and I'll be the one to kill ya instead of the Grievers. Got that Greenie?" Alby orders.

I nod, grumbling internally about how I haven't been here in the Glade all that long and yet Alby's constantly and unknowingly interrupting my train of thought.

*****

Now that the Tour is over, I'm with Chuck and even though our introductions weren't the best, I've actually warmed up to him. We're sitting under "our" tree chatting, when thought hits me.

"Hey Chuck?"

"Hmm?"

"Have y'all tried other ways to get out of here besides through the Maze?" I ask, hopeful.

The young boy rolls onto his side and looks at me, eventually saying, "Yep. Tried climbing down after the Box goes leaves, riding back down in the Box, and probably anything else you can think of. Oh, and I heard that before I got here, the Gladers tried making a rope and this kid volunteered to follow the Box down the hole. He got about halfway down and was then cut in half."

"No way, I don't believe that for a second," I smile, rolling my eyes.

"Oh ya smart one? I've seen the bones sliced in half; they're kept in a box. I'm not lying here Greenie," Chuck frowns.

I lay down on my back, staring up at the sky through the tree, thinking about everything that has happened these past two days. Boy, has it been a roller coaster.