It's late in the afternoon as Minho dashes through the doors of the Maze. The boy looks around, while still running, and moves to Alby.
"Hey," Alby greets his friend cheerfully. "You're early today."
Minho puts his hands on his knees and tries to catch his breath; he has been running the whole day. "It is... Newt," he finally pants.
"What do you mean? What happened?" Alby asks anxiously. "Come on," Minho says. "We have to hurry." He grabs Albys arm and pulls him into the Maze.
The boys have been running for at least ten minutes as Minho suddenly stops; Alby almost crashes into him. It takes him a moment before he realizes that the Runners at the end of the corridor are standing at something. No, not something. Someone. Alby reconizes the blond hair and the long legs immediately; it's Newt, just like Minho said. Alby runs to the small circle of people. "What happened?" he shouts. The boy on the ground answers.
"It was a bloody Griever," Newt growls. "One of those thing attacked me. I fled, fell over something and hurt my ankle. I know, I'm a coward, I'm a slinthead, and I can't walk."
Minho curses on the background. "We have to get out of here. The doors will close in ten minutes.""Just bloody leave me here," Newt says.
Alby frowns. Newt is quite often in a bad mood, but he never wanted to be eaten by Grievers before.
Minho shakes his head. "Forget it, shank. We're gonna take you with us, want it or not."
Alby lifts Newt until their heads are on the same height. "Man, you're heavy," he puffs. "Minho, help me." The other boy almost immediately appears next to him; it's almost frightening how fast that shank is.
They both draw one of Newt's arms around their shoulders. Then they carefully start to run; the little group of Runners follows them.
Minho – who is wearing a watch – tells them that they only have one minute left to get in the Glade. The group runs into the last corridor. The other Gladers are standing in the opening. Alby sighs relieved; they're almost there.
At that moment, the doors start to close.