A Way Back - The Maze Runner (♡Newt)

Chapter 80

Cally's pov

"Somehow I've to go through that!" Thomas told Minho, grabbing the Keeper's arm while nodding towards the big wall of approaching Grievers. Newt and Minho exchanged a long glance, not saying anything. I was getting more and more anxious with every passing second, seeing the three groups of monsters coming at us from all sides. I knew we would have to fight, but with the battle only seconds away, I regretted my decision to come. 
     "They're coming!" Teresa yelled. "We have to do something!"
     This got the two to decide. "You lead," Newt told Minho, his voice almost a whisper. "Make a bloody path for Tommy and the girl. Do it."
     Minho nodded once, his face hardening with a new kind of determination before he turned to the rest of the Gladers. "We head straight to the Cliff! Fight through the middle , push the shuckin' things against the walls. What matters most is getting Thomas and Teresa to the Griever Hole!"
     I listened to Minho's instructions, but my gaze was with the approaching Grievers. The wall of grey skin and metal pins, spikes and blades they formed was only a few meters away. A hand grabbed mine, I looked up expecting to see Newt, but instead I saw Ezra. "Stay together." He whispered only loud enough for me to hear. 
     "Together." I answered with a half forced smile. I tightened my other hand around the pitchfork that served as my weapon. I had wrapped barbed wire around the metal and slammed nails into it where the wood started. The pocket knife I had when I came here was bound to my belt just in case. Ezra's weapon was a shovel, the metal parts were broken, creating sharp spikes at the top. I knew our weapons were nothing compared to the murder machines we were up against, but it was better than nothing. 
     "Ready!" Minho yelled, sticking a barbwire-wrapped club into the air, together with a long silver knife. My heart was pounding against my chest when Minho pointed at the Grievers with his knife, "Now!" Without any hesitation, Minho ran to the Grievers. Newt followed immediately with Ezra and me on their heels. In no time, all the Gladers were running at the living grey wall, weapons raised in the air and screaming our battle cries. 
     I had never felt this much adrenaline rush through my body, it made the fear I had felt a few seconds ago disappear. Minho and Newt were the first ones to attack one of the slugs, two other Gladers jumped in to help while Ezra and I attacked the Griever on the other side of them, trying to push them apart and create an opening for Thomas, Teresa and Chuck. I jammed my pitchfork into the slimy body of the Griever, it led out a high pitched screech, but it didn't seem to do much damage. The creature tried to slam me aside with one of his metal legs, but Ezra used his shovel to block it. Quickly I pulled the fork out of it's body, disgusted by the sound and slimy yellow substance that leaked out of the wound. If it wasn't for the adrenaline I would've puked, realizing the yellow substance must be its blood, but there wasn't any time for hesitation. The Griever raised one of his other arms, one with a big blade attached to it. The creature was about to stab it into my twin's back, so I did what he had done for me, I blocked it. The blade hit between two of my pitchfork's pins, slashing through the barbwire with ease. Quickly I turned the fork, forcing the creature's blade to hit the ground with full force. Sparks flew as the blade scraped over the stones, getting stuck inside of it. Ezra was still trying to keep the Griever's other arm away from me, which gave me the opportunity to charge again, this time I stabbed it higher. Another screech came from it, but it still didn't seem to be mortally wounded. Before I could do anything else, there was a flash of metal in the corner of my eyes and the next thing I know I was flying through the air, landing on my back. The impact blew all the air out of my lungs. Groaning, I pushed myself from the ground, my pitchfork was still stuck in the Griever's side. Forgetting to draw my knife, I ran back to my brother and the Griever, I was almost there when Brandon charged at the creature. He jumped on top of it, lifted his wooden spear above his head before stabbing it through the Griever's skull. The creature didn't screech this time, but it screamed. A moment later, it collapsed to the ground. Dead. 
     "You killed it!" I yelled at Brandon with more enthusiasm I thought I would ever say something like that. Brandon looked down at the creature beneath him with a trace of disbelieve in his eyes. That disbelieve quickly turned into pride as he jumped up and pulled his spear out of the Griever's head.
     "Minho!" I yelled to my friend while retrieving my own weapon, he had just ordered a group of guys to help Thomas, Teresa and Chuck. He turned to look at us, eyes widening once he saw the dead creature, "go for the head!" Minho nodded once before he turned back to the Shanks closest to him and started to make sure everyone knew how to kill the monsters. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Teresa jump through the Grieve Hole, followed by Chuck and Thomas. 
     "Cally!" With a jerk I turned back around. Ezra was backing away from one of the other Grievers, knowing that he wouldn't be able to fight it on his own. Determined, I joined my brother's side. I wasn't the only one who joined him, one of his Builder friends had come as well. I had never met him, but we exchanged one quick look before we got ready to attack the creature. 
     It went fast, very fast. I was the first to charge, but before I could even get close enough to the Griever to hit it with my pitchfork, another one collided with my side. Again, I got launched through the air, this time only stopping because I hit a wall. A faint buzzing echoed through my ears and my vision got blurry. Pain shot from my head, which had hit the wall, through my spine to my arms and legs, which I had landed on. Blood seeped down my neck, my arms and one of my legs, but I didn't have time to see how bad the damage was. I could hear someone scream my name faintly, but I was too disorientated to recognize the voice or where it had come from. The buzzing in my ears started to fade, making place for another, way more terrifying sound.
     *Click* *Click* *Click* *wheeze* *Click* *Click* 
     Ignoring the protests my body gave me, I shot up, just in time to see the Griever charging one of its needles at me. Without thinking I rolled to the left, just in time to dodge the needle. It slammed against the stone floor, little sparks flying up. Frantically I looked around me, I could see my pitchfork, but didn't see Ezra anywhere, or anyone else I knew. The people I did see were engaged in their own battles, I had to do this alone. I grabbed my pitchfork, jumping up from the ground. The Griever had been able to recover itself. Standing on it's metal legs, blocking my way from everything and everyone. For some time, the Griever and I didn't move, we just looked at each other, both seeming to be analyzing their opponent. I could hear my own heartbeat, the blood rushing threw my ears, accompanying the faint buzz that was still there. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the red light and metallic glimmer of a Beetle Blade between the ivy on the wall behind me. Of course they were watching. 
     The Griever was the first to move. It launched itself forward, I had just enough time to jump aside. The creature's plump body collided with the wall, but it didn't matter. The Griever just stuck it's pins in the wall and pulled itself up.
     Seeing my opportunity, I tried to stab my pitchfork in it's head, but the Griever seemed to have anticipated my course of action. Before I could hit it, the creature sliced at my makeshift weapon with one of it's blades. Wooden splinters flew through the air as the knife went straight through the wood, breaking it in two, leaving me with a stick in my hands. Some of the wood that had been flying around hit me in the face and arms, leaving splinters.
     The Griever lashed out at my head, I jumped out of the way, but tripped over a something metal, making me drop the stick. The Griever let itself fall to the ground again, it's legs forcing little part of rocks and sand to shoot away while its body crushed my stick.
     Not able to stand up, I tried to crawl backwards. Panic taking over every part of my body when I hit something big and slimy. A dead Griever lay on the ground behind me and it was blocking the way. Not knowing what to do, I grabbed my pocket knife. It was small, too small to do actual damage to the creature that was now looming over me. I was making myself as small as possible, trying to avoid getting crushed by the Griever's body while it came closer. Instead of launching itself at me as it had done to Alby, this one seemed to enjoy toying with my fear. It slowly brought it's head closed to my face, I could smell it's disgusting breath while it's mucus dripping on me. I lashed out with my tiny knife, it cut the Griever's throat, getting stuck in it in the process. The creature  pulled it's head back with a loud roar. Apparently I had hit where it hurt. Desperately, I reached for the head of my pitchfork. It had hit the dead Griever just like I had done, but multiple feet to my left. I still couldn't get up, The Griever was too close, it now seemed to be growling at me. It's yellow blood gargling in it's throat, making it drip out of the wound even faster.
     I was still trying to get what was left of my pitchfork, stretching my arm and fingers as far out as I could, but it was impossible for me to see where it was exactly, the monster was blocking my line of sight. Just as I was about to give up, except my fait, my fingers brushed over something metal. Not caring about the barbwire that impaled my skin, I grabbed the head of the pitchfork. The Griever, who was opening it's mouth for a final attack, didn't notice a thing until I used all of my strength to stab the fork into its mouth.
     The creature screamed, but I ignored it as I pushed it further, feeling the metal pins break through the Griever's skull and impale it's brains. After a fit of jolts, the Creature's body gave away and finally died. The creatures lifeless body collapsing on top of my lower body and legs. I wanted to roll it away and get up, but one of it's metal legs had somehow entangled with a big chunk of my hair, pinning my head to the ground. It wouldn't have been so big of a deal, if yet another Griever hadn't noticed I was still alive. This one moved way faster than the other one I had just killed. This one didn't seem to have the need to play around with me, it was going in for the kill.
     A new wave of panic came over me. I needed to get away and fast. I started to pull on my hair, but it didn't seem to work. Then, my eyes fell on the hand grip of my pocket knife, sticking out of the dead Griever on top of me. I grabbed it and sliced through my hair, it hurt, but worked. My head was free and I shot straight. I glanced back, the Griever was still running at me, only a few meters away. I tried to push the Griever off of my legs, but it was too heavy for me on my own. The next thing I tried was to get the head of my pitchfork out of the Griever's skull. I jerked and pulled as much as I could, unfortunately, it was stuck as well. With no other choice, I turned to the approaching Griever, sticking out my small knife in front of me with closed eyes. My hands were sweating as I clenched on to the small weapon. My heart was pounding against my chest as if it was trying to escape my body and get away from the monster without me. 
     I realized this was it. I was going to die. The Griever was coming for me and I couldn't protect myself. The only thing I still had left was my pocket knife, nothing else. I couldn't safe myself with that small metal thing, and there was no one else that could safe me. Thomas and Teresa probably hadn't made it, or at least not in time for me. But that was okay. As long as the others made it. Ezra, Newt, Minho, Chuck and all the others. Especially them though. As long as they were still alive and made it through it would've been worth it. 
     Still too scared to open my eyes, I squeezed my hands even tighter around my knife. My body shaking. I could feel the mixture of my own blood and sweat with the mucus and yellow blood from the Grievers drip down my skin. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down, and as I breathed out, I opened my eyes and accepted my fate.