Chapter 1
The Greenie's Arrival
A/N: Hi! This FF is going to be sad, but rest assured, everyone remains alive in the other alternate universe. :)
It's a strange feeling, lying on something soft, with a pillow underneath a weary head in the hard life of the Glade. The light brown, cotton sheets bundle around a young boy in his mid-teens, who draws a blanket tighter to his thin frame.
His sandy, blond hair is in a mess of knots, but it doesn't bother him. In thirty seconds comes the Wake Up, and then another grueling day to farm…and then he has to welcome the next Greenie. Finally, someone else Chuck can bother with his chatter.
The loud, rhythmic bang of metal clashing startles the boy, and he shoots up to a sitting position, revealing dark, brown eyes. He is in the Homestead, of course, but why? He always sleeps outside.
The weather in the Glade never changes, being warm and sunny. The boy mutters something about how he must have slept walk again, and swings his legs over the left side of the bed.
Once his bare feet come in contact with the floor, a dull ache slips its way into his ankle. He rolls his eyes, fed up with his constant limp from that incident with the Griever that nearly killed him.
The clash of metal erupts again, and he stands up, covering his ears.
He exits the empty room, throwing the door open. The sound comes from the stairs below, from someone with a death wish.
"Alright, now which bloody Shank—" The boy is interrupted by more loud bangs as a muscular, African American shows up, smashing two pot lids against each other.
"Newt, why aren't you out eating? Wake Up was ten minutes ago!" the dark-skinned boy exclaims.
"What time is it?" the nettled blond replies calmly, "Alby, I'm right on time. Why are you messing with two of Frypan's lids? He's gonna kill you."
Alby's brows furrow in confusion.
"Newt, look. I know losing Frypan was hard. I'm sorry, but we need to move on. Besides, these are my lids for the Wake Up, remember?"
"Hang on," Newt says, and raises his pale hands, "Don't you go, and play a bloody prank on me. Frypan wouldn't let ya use those. I wake up early. Let's just go."
He moves past Alby, and descends the unstable, creaking stairs with the leader right at his heels.
Newt exits the building, and heads to an unoccupied picnic table where a plate of potatoes, and green beans are. He attacks the food as his friend plops down across from him.
"What do ya think?" Alby asks.
"About what?" Newt responds while shoveling a heap of greens in his mouth.
Like order, the boy also makes sure to get the proper nutrition for his body.
"The Greenie."
Newt shrugs. "Nothing. Let's just hope he isn't another Slopper. We need a Builder, or Track-Hoe."
"Speaking of which, that machete yesterday was a little too close to your head, wasn't it?"
Newt finishes his food, and takes a swing of his water.
"What brick?" he asks, certain he wasn't involved with the Runners recently. He didn't miss being one of them either.
"Ya know? The machete Chuck took from Gally as a prank. The Shank did not like that. Kid's lucky the Runner didn't throw him the Slammer," Alby says.
"No, I wish I had seen that. Gally must've been ticked, but what's a Builder doing with a machete anyway?" Newt replies as he clears the table, bringing the plate to Jack who is wearing an apron.
"Wait, since when did you cook?"
Jack looks from Newt to Alby, appearing to be confused. "He's the replacement," the latter tells him.
"What? But why?" Newt asks, "Everyone loves Frypan's cooking."
"Are you seriously asking me that? A dead guy can't work," Jack mutters, and walks away.
Newt rolls his eyes again. What is it with everyone this morning? He heads for the gardens, and spots Zart with the Track-Hoes sweating, working their butts off. "Morning," he says as he passes the guy.
"Morning," Zart responds. "Slicers run out of helpers again? I got Gary available over there."
"Ya think I'd know?"
"You are the Keeper, aren't you?"
"Yeah, I cut little pigs every day, and you're a Bagger watching to make sure I'm not breaking any rules," Newt responds, throwing as much sarcasm as possible into the comment.
Before he can walk away, the boy grabs him by the shoulder, and squeezes.
"Sorry," he mutters, and returns to work, "Chris said no one can take a day off."
"When did Chris ever tell us what to do?" Newt asks, "Thanks, but I don't need a day off."
Zart exchanges glances with a brunette girl. Wait, a girl? Newt does a double take, and points at her. "Is she our Greenie?"
"Huh? Me?" the girl asks, tucking a strand of curly, brown hair behind her ear.
"Newt, I've been here for three shuck months."
"No, I've never seen a girl in the Glade before. What's your name?"
"Emily. You okay?" the girl says, her brown eyes darting back and forth, looking anywhere but the cute blond.
"Yeah. How'd you know my name?" Newt asks.
"Uh, you're the one who's the Greenie that survived in the Maze two weeks ago. Who doesn't know you?"
"Okay, I've had enough of this bloody prank. Who is this girl?" Newt grabs her by the arm, and pulls her off the soil onto the grass.
Emily wrenches away, and glares daggers at the boy.
"Newt, come on. Are you sure you're okay?" Gary asks, stepping between the two.
"Look, I know it's hard. I'm sorry. Just go back with the Slicers. They need ya." He punches Newt's arm.
"Quit your bloody prank and explain," Newt snaps, frustrated they won't admit it. "What is your bloody problem?"
"Whoa! Hey, please. What prank?" Gary responds.
"Just tell me before I run out of patience. Ya Shanks aren't funny."
"What prank?" Emily asks.
As the last word leaves her mouth, the Newbie alarm goes off, startling everyone except the conversation can continue, everyone heads to the Box, anticipating the next Greenie.
"I bet he'll be one ugly Shank," Minho whispers to Newt as the blond pushes past the boys.
"Hey," Alby says, motioning to Newt, "You wanna do the honors?"
"Thanks ma'am." Newt responds, and grabs the rope his friend hands him. He throws it down. "Climb up, Greenie. We don't bite."
Everyone waits a few seconds, wondering, but there is no movement on the other end.
"Greenie? Ya there?" No response. Newt mutters something, and hands the end of the rope to Alby.
"I'm getting the Shank. Maybe he's asleep." He climbs down with ease, and limps toward a figure in grey and brown huddled in the corner of the Box, his back facing the blond.
Newt steps on something sticky as he shakes the boy gently.
"Hey, Greenie. Wake up."
No response. He rolls the kid on his side, and promptly backs away.
"What the—"
A/N: Please review, and have a fantastic day/night!