Good That

Thomas' POV

Newt's shout rang throughout the Maze. Tommy. My name echoed off the high walls like a wail produced by an unseen ghost. Minho looked up in worry. He looked terribly scared. "We're shucked, man," Minho said earnestly, and ran off, leaving me and Alby behind. I was disgusted. I thought I could trust him. Turns out I was wrong. I looked around me. Little beetle blades lighted up the maze. I grasped a vine and pulled, it fell down but didn't break. I pulled myself up. Then I remembered Alby. I couldn't just leave him there, he was the leader. I knotted the vine around my waist and hoisted him up a little. That shank was heavy. I strained and pulled and pushed him, working with the vines. We were a quarter way up when I heard a click and a whir. That sound came again and again. I shivered and turned around. A griever shrieked around the corner and I gulped. There was no time to inch further up. The griever rolled towards the wall where I was hiding and sat there. Newt said no one had survived a night in the maze. My mind went to him, and sadness filled me. If I died, I wanted him to be my last thought. I jumped toward the griever and ran, keeping a mental image of a smiling Newt in my head. The griever came after me and I dodged, running by a corner. Unfortunately, I'd never been there before so I was lost. More grievers awaited me. I looked for a way out when a hand pulled me into a little alley. It was Minho. He held a finger to his lips and explained his plan. I nodded, and I followed him. My heart almost stopped when I saw a sky. "Don't get too exited, it's just the cliff," Minho warned me. I inched closer to the wide gap. Then I saw what he had meant; it was an exit, but there was no floor. Just air. The clicks and whir wrenched me back to reality. I turned to face the jelly monstrosities. "Wait," Minho instructed. Adrenaline rushed through my veins as I waited. They got closer. And closer. Still, Minho wouldn't budge. I was starting to worry and I put Newt's picture in my head. The way his eyes looked when he smiled at you, the type a person could drown in. The way his face wrinkled up cutely when he laughed. The warmth of his skin from the time we hugged by the corner. The slightly salty taste of his lips. I was so immersed in the memory of our recent kisses that I almost missed Minho's signal. I dove to the right, and he dove to the left. The grievers rolled by and I helped Minho kick the last one off. I was breathless. Minho and I staggered to the spot in the wall where Alby lay untouched. We cut his vines and sat hunched for the rest of the night, on guard.

We awoke to the screeching of the opening doors. We were alive. Newt slipped through the opening as soon as he could, a devastated look on his face, tears in his eyes. I slowly came out of the vines and dropped behind him. His head turned abruptly, and I saw the joy and disbelief in his eyes. I pulled him into my arms and stroked his back. "Tommy I thought you were dead," Newt confessed, caressing my head, tears of joy running down his eyes. "Don't worry," I smiled, cupping his cheek in my hand. He smiled back uncertainly, so I pulled him closer and kissed him on the forehead. "Really, I'm okay," I assured him. Newt nodded once, smiled the smile I loved, and pulled me into a kiss. I kept stroking his back as he clutched my hair as if his life depended on it. Minho poked me, and I returned back to reality. "I'm sorry Newt but we have to get the grief serum for Alby," Minho explained, calling the med-jacks over. Me and Newt held firmly to the other's hand as we walked behind the stretcher. Minho seems not to mind, which relieved me. The med-jacks connected Alby to an IV with the grief serum and his body grew rigid. Newt squeezed my hand so his knuckles went white, as if he was bracing himself. Alby's scream shattered the air, and I knew why.