Long-ass AN. Skip to line break if you don't want to read it.

First of all, I am now sharing this account. I, Goodgirl275, did not write this. My friend is the true author and all credit must be given to where it is due. So, she gets all of the comments and any PMs we may receive.

Next, she has several chapters written, but to prevent spamming the website, and to get as many readers as possible, we will stagger the updates. Yes.

Finally, ... ... ... I got nothing. Please enjoy.

PS - disclaimer applies to all chapters.


Ellie woke up with a gasp. She sat bolt upright and stared into pure darkness. At first she wasn't sure whether her eyes were really open. Beneath her hands she could feel cold metal, and a loud grinding noise came from seemingly everywhere. The metal underneath her lurched upwards, and she was thrown back onto her elbows.

She didn't know where she was.

She hardly knew who she was.

She couldn't remember anything except her name. Well, she knew she was a girl, but how vague is that? She knew the world was out there. She could imagine listening to music on a palmphone, watching a musical or a play, taking strolls down a road. Loving a book. Hating a book. Having a cliché crush on the popular kid in school. Watching a movie. Daydreaming in class when you were supposed to be paying attention.

More things joined in with the stream of thoughts of things that were supposed to be normal.

But none of it seemed familiar.

And, from what she remembered, being trapped in a pitch-black metal elevator wasn't normal.

The thought occurred to her that she might have been blind. There wasn't the slightest light source to be detected. She waved her hand in front of her face. Nothing.

The elevator hadn't stopped going up, but it hadn't lurched since the first one. Ellie got unsteadily to her feet, expecting the box to throw her off balance. Mercifully, it allowed her to stay upright. She extended her right arm as far as she could and couldn't feel a wall. She moved slowly, sliding her feet along the ground carefully. She was wearing shoes—that was good. Her fingers touched metal. Her head instinctively turned to look for it, but she still couldn't see.

A sudden claustrophobia clutched her. She wanted to scream for help, but she doubted any would come.

Was this a gas chamber? Was she inhaling toxic gases right now without knowing? Why couldn't she remember anything? Possibilities raced through her head, getting less and less possible as they went.

The chamber jolted still, and Ellie fell forward, but caught herself. She pushed herself up. Her upward journey seemed to have stopped. How long would she stay here? Forever?

Better not be bloody forever, she thought, surprising herself. Noises were coming from above her—voices? They got closer until they were right on top of her.

"Save me," she pleaded to them, barely a whisper.

A loud groaning of metal followed, and a line of light appeared in the roof of the box. She held up a hand to shield her eyes until they could adjust. Glancing up, she saw silhouettes lining the roof of the open box. The voices had died down into a stunned silence.

"A girl," said someone—a boy—quietly. Then louder, "It's a shuck girl."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ellie demanded, unsure of what the word shuck meant. She took a few steps forward. Her eyes were adjusting slowly. She took her hand away from her eyes cautiously.

Mutterings were coming from places she couldn't see, up where the other people were, passing around that she was a girl. The murmurs started getting louder and more confused.

"A girl?"

"Why'd they send us a girl?"

"Why now? Why not ever before?"

"What's her name?"

"What's she look like?"

"Is she trustworthy?"

"Stuff it!" someone called over the crowd, shutting everyone right up. (There's the man in charge, Ellie thought.) "Alby, throw her the rope."

"Yeah, yeah," came an irritated voice.

The rope came down swiftly. It was tied in a loop at the end, making Ellie first think that they intended to hang her. But it came down further, and she saw she was instead supposed to put her foot in the loop. She did, and was quickly hauled up. An asian kid grabbed her arm when she was near the edge and pulled her up.

She caught her balance and looked around. She was in the middle of a square of overgrown stone blocks. In front of her was the box in the ground she'd come out of.

A group of forty teenagers gathered around her, but none very near her, avoiding her like she was the plague. All staring at her like she was an alien. All teenage boys. Why teenagers? Ellie thought. Past them, green grass spread around in a huge area.

A farm was in one of the corners, surrounded by pens of animals. Another corner held something big that looked like a garden, and spanned out a long way. In another corner was a small forest.

Beyond that, the horizon had been cut off by huge slabs of gray. She turned around, and saw that she'd come straight from one box into another box. Walls of stone stretched impossibly up to the sky on all four sides. Comparatively thin openings stretched all the way to the top of each of them.

She stood, turning to look at each of the four walls in awe. These walls were huge, and looked like they'd been there for centuries. Vines spotted them in places. Past the openings she could only see more stone walls. Trapped again.

"Bloody hell," she breathed, staring over the boys' heads at the monumental stone slabs.

"Sounds like Newt," someone said, the same accent as everyone else she'd heard except herself. She pulled her attention back to the boys. Some of them had gotten over the shock that she was a girl, and were inspecting her critically. Fighting her nervousness and the rising panic in her throat, she rotated to scan each of their faces. All of them were wearing normal t-shirts, jeans, and shoes, which was comforting, in a way. Not really.

One boy, who looked about eighteen, was standing nearer to her than the rest. His frowning eyes were dark, searching her for something she didn't understand. His skin was tan, and he looked kind of Native American. His hair was in braids, one resting on either side of his neck. His arms were folded firmly. He was heavily muscled and good looking.

"What's your name?" he asked, offering the slightest hint of a smile.

Ellie eyed him cautiously. "Ellie," she said after a pause. "Who're you?"

"Nick," he said, and although he still had an air of uncertainty, he was practically dripping confidence, the authority coming back into his voice. "Welcome to the Glade, Ellie." He stuck out his hand to shake hands, glancing around at the other boys. "You're the first girl here. Ever."

"Well, aren't I special," Ellie said with a trace of sarcasm, shaking his hand. The Glade, she thought, trying to piece together everything. Nothing made sense about this. Despite Nick's friendly confidence, she was still scared and confused, and the terrifying sense of claustrophobia hadn't gone away. A million questions bubbled up in her throat, threatening to choke her.

"You got a lot of questions," Nick said, cutting her off. "We all did when we first came up. First, no, the rest of us can't remember anything either." He started counting on his fingers. "Second, no, we don't know who sent us here or why. Third, we don't know where this place is, but it's home and we call it the Glade. This is where your new life is gonna begin." He'd taken two of those questions right out of Ellie mouth.

He said the last one with a hint of finality, but someone called out, "You forgot 'Is this a prison?'"

"And 'Who are all of you?'" Another boy called.

"Right, right," Nick said, cutting them off. "We're the Gladers. You'll get to know all of us as time goes on. And, if this is a prison," he glanced around, almost fondly, at the walls, "then I'd say it's a pretty nice one." He stared around at the Gladers around him, daring them to say anything else. "Anything else I missed?"

"Are we counting when Frypan asked where the grub was?" The asian kid who had helped Ellie out of the Box had spoken up. A few scattered laughs and smiles swept through the Gladers, and he seemed pleased with himself.

"Bet Fry'd like a girl in the kitchens with 'im," someone else called, prompting more laughs. Ellie lips tightened. Of course a group of boys would make a sexist joke.

"You're hilarious," Nick said flatly, sending a look out across the Gladers that shut them all up. "Now, Ben, where are you?"

"Here," said a kid who had muscled arms. He was short and stocky, and had short blonde hair and a friendly smile. He pushed through a couple of boys, avoiding a black boy who was still staring intensely at Ellie, and joined Nick's side.

"Ben's the newest Greenbean apart from you, Ellie," Nick said, putting a hand on Ben's shoulder. "He's gonna show you around for the rest of today until I give you the Tour tomorrow. Try and slim all questions until you understand the kind of answers we'll give." Nick's thin smile was gone. "Right now, I'm calling a Gathering, effective immediately. Alby, go get Henry and Newt, will you?"

"Right," said the black kid.

"Newt might not be able to move," someone said as the black kid—who must've been Alby—turned to leave. "Henry says his leg's still messed up pretty bad."

"Then we'll have the shuck Gathering 'round his shuck bed," Alby shot at the kid. "We ain't never had a girl here before in the year we've been here. This could be groundbreaking."

"Alby's right," Nick said, calmly still in control. "Creators had to send her here for a reason. Someone go get Siggy, tell him we're gathering in Newt's room."

"You wanna take Fry away from his kitchen this close to dinnertime?"

"Yes. No questions. Do it. Now." Nick turned and walked away. Some other people broke away, too.

Ellie looked helplessly at Ben, who had watched the proceedings with interest. He noticed her stare and turned back to her. His smile returned.

"That's the first Gathering that's been called since I got here," he said with muted excitement. "But I dunno what the big fuss's about. The Creators had to send us a girl sometime, right?" He realized Ellie had no idea what he was talking about. "Sorry, Greenie," he said. "Guess you don't know most of those words. After a month here you kinda get used to stuff being thrown around like that. Creators are what we call the people who send us up. Someone had to build this place, you know?"

"Yeah, well, why would anyone build this place, is what I wanna know. And why send a bunch of teenagers with amnesia up here?"

"Maybe we're all war prisoners, memories wiped so we won't fight back."

"Maybe," Ellie said, running a hand through her hair in frustration. "I wouldn't know. What did they mean, a 'Gathering'?"

"Ugh," Ben groaned. "You don't ask easy questions. Gatherings are like group meetings for all the Keepers to talk about important or weird stuff that's happened. And Keepers, Keepers are like," he struggled to find a good job description. "Keepers are like the leaders of different jobs. Like, you heard Newt mentioned? He's Keeper of the Runners. Or he was, before he fell and broke his leg. No—shuck, sorry. Bad example. You don't know what Runners are, do you?"

Ben wasn't very good at explaining things. But, he seemed like the only one who would at least try to explain, so Ellie just made herself be patient and listened.

Ben sighed and gathered his thoughts, running a hand through his hair and messing it up, only to smooth it down again like he'd done that a million times. "Okay. You heard Frypan mentioned, right? He's Keeper of the Cooks. Meaning, he's the best of the best of them. So, he's in charge of them, got it?"

"Yeah…" Ellie said. "What are Runners, though? Apart from being people who run a lot."

Ben sighed. "Look, Nick'll explain everything to you tomorrow. Trust me, he's good at explaining things. I'm just here to get you situated—get you a bed, some food, and all that."

"Shuck that," said a voice behind her. A hand clapped down on her left shoulder, startling her. The asian teen who had helped her out of the box was there, grinning. "I'm a Runner, I'll tell her." Before Ben could say anything, he introduced himself. "I'm Minho." He took his hand off her shoulder so he could shake her hand.

"Ellie," she said, in a daze of confusion, taking his hand.

"So I heard," he agreed. He glanced at his watch. "Good, we can just make it. Come on, follow me."

He turned and started jogging quickly towards one of the walls. Ellie glanced at Ben, and they followed, trying to keep up to Minho's speed. Ellie noticed a wooden building on the corner of the square she'd previously overlooked. A couple kids were walking towards it and going in. Minho had slowed down, and was now doing an awkward side-gallop so he could point at it.

"That's the Homestead. Med-jacks tend to people in there, and the Gatherings are held in there." He turned and started running normally again.

"Where are we going?" Ellie asked Ben, who was running level with her.

"Every night, the walls close," Ben said. "Minho's excited about showing Greenies."

"What?"

"Yeah, that's what I said. Those big openings? They close every night, open every morning, like doors." Seeing Ellie look of disbelief, he added, "I'm not even kidding."

Minho had stopped. They were still a safe distance from the…doors. He waited for Ellie and Ben to catch up, and pointed out to the passageway beyond the walls.

"Out there," he said, looking Ellie dead in the eyes. "Out there is a maze. The biggest you've ever seen. Walls just as tall as the ones you see right in here. It's endless."

Ellie stared out into the passage beyond the walls, speechless. Why a maze? What was the point of sticking a bunch of teenagers in the middle of a maze?

"You asked what Runners were," Minho continued. "Runners go out there every day and try to solve the Maze. Runners have gotta be fast, strong, clever—not to brag, of course—they gotta remember their way out."

The words seem to lag as they traveled to Ellie brain. Something connected.

"Um—Alby said you guys had been here…almost a year…?"

"Yep." Minho stared out into the Maze. "Almost a year, and no one's solved it. Here, look. It's about to happen, in three, two, one—"

A earsplitting grinding noise started coming from the wall. Rock against rock, sparks flying, the gap in the wall started closing. Ellie threw her hands over her ears, but after realizing Ben and Minho hadn't done the same, she took them away and looked around. The other three openings were closing, too. Spikes on the closing side of the doors were going into slots for them on the stationary parts. Ellie shook her head. Impossible. How could that amount of stone move, seemingly on its own?

The grinding seemed to take forever. Sparks were flying from the ground under the huge doors. When the noise finally ceased, the path through to the Maze had vanished.

Minho turned to her. "And that," he jerked his thumb at the door, "is why being a Runner is very dangerous and not recommended."

"No one survives a night in the Maze," Ben said, and it sounded like a quote.

Minho nodded. "Right."

Ellie was speechless. She shook her head. This was too much. "I…I need a bit," she said finally.

"Come with me, I'll get you a bed," Ben said. "Then I'll leave you alone for however long you want."

"Thanks," Ellie said.

Ellie sat perfectly still in the sleeping bag Ben had set up for her. She was in a small lawn with a single, tiny tree in it. Lots of Gladers chose to sleep there, apparently. She was staring up at the darkened sky, as she had been doing for an hour. Ben had come to offer her dinner, but she'd rejected the idea. Her stomach was a tense, tangled mess of nervousness, confusion, and anxiety. It felt like she'd never relax again, and she couldn't even imagine eating right about now.

She'd been trying to make sense of everything. The walls, the Maze, the elevator she'd arrived in. The kids here acted like this whole thing was the most normal thing in the world. Except Ben. He seemingly understood how confusing everything was.

A clicking, scuttling noise near her made her turn her head. A red light was in the grass a few feet from her, pointing into her eyes. Frowning, she got up on an elbow for a better look. A silver cylindrical thing sat in the grass, staring at her. It looked like a silver, metal centipede. Something was written across its back. Squinting, Ellie could make out W.I.C.K.E.D. spelled out on it.

"Oh, good," she murmured sarcastically to herself. "It gets better." The thing clicked and zipped away into the grass. An apathy washed over her. She knew she should probably be afraid of this little centipede thing, but suddenly she just didn't care. After today, nothing could faze her anymore.

A deep sadness entered her heart. Were they meant to stay in this place forever? She sighed.

"It's not as bad as it seems," Ben's voice interrupted her inner thoughts. He was dragging his own sleeping bag over to her. He dropped it a respectful distance from her. "I went through what you're going through, too."

He lay down. "Don't worry, really. There are friends here. I'll be your friend. Minho's a bother sometimes, but he's not so bad. Nick's usually a bit more cheerful than you saw today."

"Anyone know what they talked about in the Gathering?" Ellie asked.

"Not yet. Nick might tell you tomorrow, though, since you were the subject."

"That'd be nice."

"I hope you're not always this down in the dumps," Ben said, and even though Ellie couldn't see him, she could sense a smile in his voice.

"Yeah, thanks, I hope I'm not, too."

"There you go, there's some attitude. That's good. Now go to sleep, okay? Tomorrow everything starts fresh for you."

"I'll try."

Ben shook her awake in the morning.

"Wake up call, Greenie. It's breakfast time."

"My name's not Greenie," Ellie said irritably, but she wiped the sleep away from her eyes anyway.

"Call it a rite of passage," Ben said, pulling her up. "Everyone called me Greenie, too."

"Fine," Ellie decided. "What do I call everyone in return?"

"I dunno. Shanks, I guess. Call them whatever you want, though. They probably won't care."

They walked towards the kitchens, where Frypan gave them each a plate of eggs and bacon that Ellie took gratefully. Not eating dinner last night had been a mistake.

"So you're the girl we called a Gathering on," Frypan commented as he handed her the metal cup of water. The word that came to mind when Ellie tried to describe the guy was fluffy. He was a fluffy guy.

"I don't see another," Ellie replied affirmatively.

"Don't worry, not much was said," Frypan said reassuringly. "What was said, Nick will fill you in. Enjoy the Tour." He smiled, and Ellie smiled back as she followed Ben to a picnic table near the Homestead.

Ellie was sure she had never tasted anything as good as the food Frypan had given her. She chowed down and her food disappeared almost as quickly as Ben's did.

Ben was talking as she finished her bacon.

"This building's called the Homestead," he announced. "Not sure if I already told you that. But the Builders—that's my job—are adding onto it. We're trying to make another couple rooms on the back. Some kids sleep in there, so we wanted to give them some more room."

Ben was cut off by the doors opening loudly. Ellie stood, watching the one she had the best view of. Someone was standing just inside the doors, and as soon as they could get through, they squeezed through the gap and sprinted out of sight. A Runner.

"There's one less Runner now Newt's been injured." Ben had to speak louder than usual to be heard over the doors.

"How'd this Newt guy get hurt, anyway?" Ellie asked, a little to quietly for Ben to hear her very well. He just shrugged.

The doors opened all the way, and Ben pointed Nick out, crossing past the elevator towards her. "Here comes our honored leader."

"Stuff it, Ben," Nick called out, from far enough away that it was impressive that he'd heard Ben's comment. He got closer and gently smacked Ben upside the head, like he didn't quite want to hurt him. "Ready for your Tour, Ellie?"

"Sure," Ellie said.

"Good."

Nick started walking at a brisk pace. Ellie exchanged a nervous look with Ben, and hurried to catch up. "Come on then. We'll start with the rules. We haven't got many rules around here. Number one: Never, ever, go outside the walls. You have to be a Runner to do that, but we only need as many Runners as we have doors. Rule number two: Never, ever hurt another Glader. There's few enough people to trust, we can't go ruining that with petty fights. Rule number three: Always do your part unless you are physically incapable. I 'spect you've heard the name Newt thrown around recently?"

"I thought you were talking about the salamander," Ellie joked, unsure of how Nick would respond.

Nick smiled. "Good to see you've got a sense of humor, Greenie. Nah. Newt was the best Runner we had, but he fell off trying to climb the walls. Says he was running from a Griever."

"Woah, wait—" Ellie focus snapped to that last word. "A Griever?"

"Yes, Greenbean, a Griever. Nasty shanks, them. Whoever stuck us here figured we weren't quite badly-off enough, so they decided to trap us here with some kind of half-metal, half-slug monster. If you ever see one, you'd better hope you can run fast, 'cause if you can't, you'll either get torn apart or stung." Nick folded his arms. "But I digress. I just meant to say that this Newt you've been hearing about got himself hurt, so he can't do any jobs right about now."

'Not as bad as it seems,' Ben had said.

"Anyway, you got the rules down, Greenie?"

"Sure, yeah." But what had Nick meant by stung?

"Good. Now we can move on to the rest. That," Nick pointed to the elevator in the ground as they moved towards it, "we call the Box. Every week, supplies come up—water, some food, some extra clothes, whatever we need. Sometimes we even send down requests. They don't always come up, but we do get the occasional celebratory cake."

That sounded like a joke. Ellie narrowed her eyes at Nick. Was that a joke?

"Once a month, every month, we get a new Greenbean, like you are. We know they're coming when this big, loud, shucking alarm goes off everywhere. We only got guys up until you came."

They were standing over the Box at this point. Nick seemed to be waiting for Ellie questions.

"Have you guys tried going back down in it?"

"Of course," Nick said, almost offended. "That's one of the first things we tried. It won't go down with someone in it." He swung his hands together. "So. Deadheads, Gardens, Homestead, Bloodhouse." He pointed in each direction of the four sections. "Homestead, you've already seen. Little house over there. A few of us sleep in there, but not many. Med-jacks have a room there they tend to people in."

"Med-jacks," Ellie muttered. "Doctors, right?"

"Yep, just without the PHD. Homestead's where the Gatherings are held. Around the back," he flicked his hand to illustrate his words, "we've got a jail. We call it the Slammer. Someone breaks a rule, they spend some time in there, or they get Banished."

"Banished…into the Maze…?"

"Yes," Nick's face changed. A moment of the deepest sadness Ellie was sure she would ever see weighed him down. "We've only ever had to do it once. Pray to whatever deity you like that it never happens again. To you, or anyone else."

Ellie imagined what it would be like to be banished from the Glade. Forced to leave, watching the doors close from the outside. A vivid image came to her—standing on the rock floor of the Maze looking back into the Glade, seeing friends disappear behind a huge wall.

No one survives a night in the Maze.

She gulped. "I think I'll just follow the rules, thanks."

"Good choice, Greenie." Nick shook himself out of the memory and turned to the Gardens. "Gardens. Pretty self-explanatory. The Creators pump water in there, since it never, ever rains here. The Track-hoes work in the garden."

About half of the Gladers words were self-explanatory, and the other half were almost completely confusing. Why not just call them gardeners?

Nick had turned to the farmhouse. "We call that the Bloodhouse. It's where we raise animals—cows, sheep, pigs, the usual. The Slicers work over in there, raising them, cutting them up for Siggy. Do you like blood, Greenie?"

Ellie shrugged. "I can't remember being overly fond."

"Well, if it turns out you do, you'll love being a Slicer." Nick turned to the last corner of the Glade, face solemn. Ellie followed his gaze. "Out over there is the Deadheads. That's where the graveyard is."

The graveyard?! "How many…" Ellie couldn't make herself ask it.

"How many kids are there in there?" Nick finished for her. "Six. Most of them were original Gladers. One was just a Greenie who couldn't take it…" Nick trailed off. "Poor shank," he muttered.

Ellie suddenly felt a sorrow for a kid she'd never even known, didn't even know the name of. She glanced around at the Glade, all the kids milling around doing their jobs. As terrible being trapped here was, Ellie was sure she'd always be a firm believer that anyplace was better than dead. Nick shook himself and kept on with the Tour.

"You'll get an up-close look at all the areas starting tomorrow. Greenbeans spend the first few weeks giving all the jobs a try, seeing which one fits them best. Jobs are: Builders, Bricknicks, Baggers, Cooks, Track-hoes, Med-jacks, Slicers, and Sloppers. I 'spect you've heard a few of those titles mentioned. You're gonna spend a day working for each of the Keepers, doing whatever they tell you to do, figuring out which one you're best at. You get to choose which one you wanna try first. Take a good, long think about it. We're in no rush."

"What about Runners?" Ellie asked.

"It's not easy to become a Runner," Nick said. "And even if it were, I don't know why you'd want to be one. Basically, to be a Runner, you have to be nominated by the Keepers and voted on."

"Right," Ellie said. She wasn't sure why she'd asked. "Umm, I guess I'll try Track-hoes first…"

"Sure," Nick agreed. "You'll like Zart. The rest of today, you wander around, see the sights, and all that. Tomorrow you start working as one of the Track-hoes."

"Got it," Ellie affirmed. "So now it's like a self-guided Tour."

"Something like that. Just don't go in the Maze."

"Good advice, that."

Nick nodded and left her to her own devices. Ellie looked around. Where to first? Her eyes settled on the Homestead, the building she'd never actually been in. Maybe it was time to check it out. Feeling much less secure now that Nick was gone, she folded her arms protectively across herself and set out towards the Homestead.

It was a ramshackle old house. Little windows in the side let her see in. Flickering electric lights did a bad job of lighting it up. Ellie pushed the door open and entered. The air was stale. A rickety staircase led up to another level. A three-legged table stood without any decoration. The place seemed deserted, until footsteps above her broke the quiet. Muffled angry voices came from upstairs, until someone yelled, "Fine!"

Feet stomped loudly down the stairs, until a thin boy with tangled, shoulder-length black hair came into sight. He wore a dark brown t-shirt and very dark jeans. Getting off the staircase, he glared back up onto the second level as if he wanted to kill someone up there. Seeing Ellie, his furious gaze was redirected at her.

"What do you want?" he snarled. Ellie took an involuntary step back.

"Nothing, I was only looking around—"

"Shut your trap!" the kid exploded. "I've had enough of Newt's shuck whining to ever hear that klunk accent ever again!" He stood there, breathing heavily, nostrils flared.

"Sorry, I'm sorry," Ellie apologized rapidly, beginning to get scared of this guy. He snorted and stalked out of the room to a hallway beyond, and disappeared. Ellie stood, some amount of adrenaline making her twitchy, trying to figure out why that kid was so angry. She breathed and swallowed, trying to calm herself down, when the kid reappeared where he had disappeared.

Fear gave way to angry determination. On her second day here, she would not let everyone know they could pick on the new girl. She wouldn't.

"Sorry about that," the kid, surprising her, even though he was still speaking somewhat grumpily. "I've got a temper. Wasn't trying to scare you." He looked more closely at her. "Though, you don't look very scared to me. I'm Edward. I wouldn't blame you for not wanting to shake my hand." He offered a thin smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Don't worry," Ellie said icily. "If you don't like the sound of my voice then I won't have a hard time making sure you don't hear it."

Edward's creepy smile widened a little bit. "Get excited for Med-Jack day, Greenie. You get a whole day to spend around me."

"Looking forward to it already," Ellie said sarcastically. Edward's smile suddenly became drastically more genuine. He put his hand on the railing of the stairway.

"Nice to get a Greenie with some guts for once," he said, and sprinted back up the stairs.

Ellie wanted to know what was up on the second level, but if Edward was up there, she sure as hell didn't want to see. She couldn't get out of the Homestead fast enough. Edward's weird multiple personalities freaked her out. She felt bad for anyone the Med-jacks had to tend to if he was always that unpredictable.

She had time to check out the Slammer and the animals in the pens near the Bloodhouse before lunch. She ate on her own, since Ben was nowhere to be found. She saw Edward eating calmly with another boy with fairly long dark brown hair. Maybe that kid was the one who could calm him down.

She found herself getting lonely. Ben seemed to be her only real friend at the moment, and if he were nowhere to be found, she was pretty much shucked.

Shucked? She caught herself using the Glader term. Well, she resigned herself, When in Rome…

She tried to recall something about Rome, but couldn't. It was just a name in an expression to her.

She sat and watched as people came to eat and left quickly, back to their jobs. She supposed she should go continue her explorations. She figured she might as well go see the graveyard in the Deadheads. It sounded depressing, but she decided she might as well.

She was heading into the woods when she saw two guys dragging some kind of carcass into the Deadheads. One guy with platinum blonde hair waved at her with a friendly smile on his face, as if he totally didn't mind that he was dragging the remains of a pig behind him.

"Afternoon, Greenie," he called, and something in the way he said the name made it not seem quite so derogatory.

"Hi," said Ellie, intrigued. "What are you doing?"

He grinned, but didn't stop the pair's progress into the woods. "Looked up to the sky earlier today and thought to myself, 'Today would be a fine day for burying a dead pig in the Deadheads.' Nah. We're called Baggers, Greenie. We bury bodies and guard the Slammer, depending on what's gotta be done."

His right hand was holding onto the pig, so he offered his left for her to shake. "My name's Billy. This talkative shank's called Jackson." He nodded to his partner as he shook Ellie hand.

"I'm Ellie. Mind if I tag along?"

"You that bored already? Nick shoulda started you with your first Keeper today, if that's the case."

"I figure if I have to spend a day at each of the jobs, I might as well learn about all of them."

"Fair enough. Tag along, if you want, but you gotta help with the digging."

Ellie shrugged. "Might as well."

Billy flashed his smile again. He seemed really friendly. "Alright! So what do you think of the Glade so far?"

"It's nice. Scary, what with the Maze and the Grievers, and all that, but everyone seems pretty nice. Except Edward."

"Ah, Edward," Billy sounded like this was nothing new. "He's not so bad, as long as you catch him around Henry. Henry's a nice guy, real serious with the Med-jack job. He and Edward take jabs at each other constantly, but they love each other really. They've been best friends since they got here. One right after the other."

"Yeah, well, lucky me, I caught Edward when he was by himself."

"Bad timing, Greenbean."

Ellie helped Jackson and Billy bury the pig near the wall, far into the Deadheads, and accompanied them back. Billy was nice enough to spend the rest of the day with her ("Friends are real important in this place, and it's hard enough for Greenies to find many good ones in their first month," he said.). It turned out Baggers didn't have to do much when there was no one in the Slammer and they'd already buried whatever poor animal had snuffed it that day.

The Runners got back a few minutes before the walls closed and sprinted into a small concrete building, closing a heavy door behind them. Billy explained that it was called the Map Room, and the Runners gathered there every day when they got back, so they could compare information.

Ben joined them for dinner—pulled pork and beans.

"How was your day?" he asked, sitting down at the four-sided picnic table with them.

"It was good," Billy interrupted teasingly, earning a look of mock-disapproval from Ellie.

"Not you," Ben said, but clearly he liked Billy, too.

"It wasn't bad," Ellie said. "A bit boring, but not bad."

"Better than my first day was. I swear Edward almost killed me when I checked the Homestead out."

"That makes two of us," Ellie agreed.

"Good," Ben grinned. "Nice to know I'm not the only guy that shank hates."

"Just call him Edward because I'd ward him off in a second if I could," Ellie muttered, surprising herself. Ben and Billy laughed out loud, mostly from surprise.

"Wow, get wrecked," Billy laughed.

"I can honestly say I was not expecting you to say something like that," Ben agreed.

"Mind if I join you shanks?" a voice said, cutting them off. Their heads turned to see Minho scooting in on the bench without waiting for an answer.

"Doesn't look like we have a choice," Billy said, grinning.

"Nope. How's the Tour, Greenie? I take it you avoided being talked to death."

"I'm still here, aren't I?"

"Good, shank. You can make it through Nick's speech, you can make it through anything."

Ellie tried to smirk, but it turned into a smile. "Is that including or excluding the Maze?"

Minho snorted. "Be my guest, give it a try."

"Don't give it a try!" Billy contradicted instantly. "Most definitely do not give it a try."

"Calm down, Mom, I'm only kidding. Greenie's got some sense, she's not gonna go waltzing on into the Maze just 'cause I said something."

"Give me some credit," Ellie said, jokingly offended. Billy rolled his eyes.

"So who're you with tomorrow?" Minho asked, stuffing a bite of pork and beans into his mouth.

"The Track-hoes," Ellie said, the term feeling extra-foreign on her tongue.

("Fitting," Minho muttered, too quietly for Ellie to hear.)

"You'll like Zart," Ben assured her.

"He's a nice dude," Billy agreed.

Turned out, Ellie didn't like the Keeper as much as everyone had told her. Zart was quiet, and even though he was friendly when he did speak, it seemed to Ellie as if he just didn't want to talk to anyone ever. It's not like she disliked him, just that she felt awkward and uncomfortable around him.

The other Track-hoes were introduced to her: Han, Skippy, Justin, Rick, and Stephen. Han, Skippy, and Rick had been original Gladers. Stephen had been the Greenie before Ben, and Justin, sometime before that. Han and Skippy seemed to be best friends, because Skippy seemed to love gardening, while Han seemed like he was only putting up with the job because it meant he'd get to hang out with Skippy. Justin was basically unreadable, seeming not to care that she was a girl or if she joined them as a Track-hoe or not. Rick folded his arms and looked her up and down like he was giving her a threat-assessment. Stephen was nice, almost always sniggering to himself about something or another that he'd found funny, and he was the guy Ellie ended up spending most of the day with.

Zart had them all working on expanding the garden, weeding and planting new areas. Stephen and Ellie, being the newest, got to do most of the weeding. They spent the hours before lunch hunched over, yanking up roots and occasionally throwing them at each other while Zart wasn't looking.

After lunch, Zart put them to work hoeing the ground to soften it.

"Surprised no one's made a hoe joke yet?" Stephen asked teasingly, chopping up a chunk of earth.

"Now that you mention it," Ellie replied, "Yeah, I am."

"Alright, I'll be the first," Stephen said, straightening up and grinning. He pointed to Ellie footprint in the ground behind her and said, "Hey, look, that's your track, hoe."

"I'll beat you up."

"No, please don't."

"Don't worry," Ellie smiled, Stephen's joke not having offended her in the slightest. "Nick told me I can't hurt other Gladers. So you're safe for now…" She paused for a second, then added, "Man-hoe."

Stephen sputtered a laugh.

"Oh!" Ellie said, a huge pun-grin spreading across her face. "If we're humans, I guess you could say we're…Hoe mo sapiens."

"Why," Stephen asked, looking up to the sky dramatically and trying really hard not to smile. Ellie chuckled evilly.

When Nick came to collect her at the end of the day, Ellie had already decided that she didn't want to be a Track-hoe, even if Stephen was nice. She was pretty sure her calling didn't involve pulling weeds or making the inevitable hoe jokes. It was boring and irritating. Always thinking the weeds were finished and then finding a million more was frustration incarnate.

"You have the next two weeks to figure out what you're good at, don't worry," Nick said. But, you are gonna have to try this one again next week. All Greenies have to do it. If after that, you still don't like it, it's ruled out for you. No big deal."

"Alright," Ellie agreed. "What's tomorrow?"

Nick grinned. "I tend to recommend the Greenies start off with the jobs that are the most stressful. Like Slicers, Builders. Med-jacks, if you're squeamish."

"Slicers, then. It'll bring a whole new meaning to the word 'bloody,' won't it?"

Nick smiled like he was already so done with her jokes. "Alright, I'll let Winston know he'll be in charge of you."

"Cool," Ellie muttered, going to get dinner and join Ben at the picnic table as Nick left. Frypan had made some kind of chicken curry and rice.

"Turns out, Zart wasn't as lovable as you implied," Ellie told Ben as she sat.

"Really?" Ben said.

"Not very talkative, is he?"

"Guess not. But he's nice."

"I was getting more of the stay away from me I'm busy vibe."

"Maybe he just doesn't like you."

"Thanks."

"Hey," Ben said, raising his hands to show he meant no harm. "You can't make friends with everyone here."

"I can bloody try," Ellie insisted, sitting back stubbornly.

"Alright, if you want," Ben relented.

Minho appeared, looking just the slightest bit rattled. "What's up, shanks? How's day three of Glade life, Greenbean?"

"Just fine," Ellie said. "How's day I-don't-know of the Maze, shank?"

Minho gave her a smirk. "Ask me how the Maze was when I come back yellin' how I found the way out, Greenie. 'Til then, the answer will always be that it sucked."

"Right then," Ellie said, raising an eyebrow. "Tomorrow I promise not to give a klunk how your day was."

Minho snickered. "You sound dumb using Glader words."

"Right," Ellie said, trying to be unfazed. "But you sound dumb using any words."

Minho choked on his curry as Ben burst out laughing. Ellie laughed at the comical, offended look on Minho's face. Ben was almost falling off the bench, he was laughing so hard.

Minho rolled his eyes in resignation, but Ellie could see that he was amused, too.

"Fine, I set myself up for that," he muttered, and Ellie gave a huge grin.

"Yes, you did," she agreed.

"Okay, shuckface, remind me to never ever let you get away with anything ever again."

"Why on earth would I remind you of that?"

"Someone finally manage to tell you off, Minho?" called someone from the Homestead entrance. Ellie grinned over at the kid Nick had called Alby, who was smirking at Minho, doing an exceptional job of hiding any smile he might've had.

Minho gave Ellie a look. "You're gonna ruin my reputation," he said, almost pouting.

Ellie shrugged, keeping her eyes on her curry, because if she looked at him she knew she would burst into laughter. "If that's the only accomplishment I make while I'm in this place, I will still consider myself a success."

Under the table, Ben offered her a fist-bump, and she accepted. Her day had just gotten remarkably better.

Nick brought her to Winston the next day, who was apparently in charge of three Slicers: Fred, Mark, and Chad.

Winston, for his part, was a little freaky in his eagerness to cut up animals, but Ellie suspected that he was so eager just so he could earn respect and prove to people he wasn't afraid of blood.

Fred was unsettling in that he walked very quietly and always appeared when you didn't expect him. When Ellie tried talking to him, though, he seemed shy but nice. Mark and Chad constantly harped at each other for whatever the other was doing wrong, and tended to complain about anything they could think of if there was nothing to criticize.

There was a black labrador in the Bloodhouse that started following Ellie around as soon as she let him sniff her hand. No one had given him a name, but he'd been there for as long as the original Gladers. They just called him 'Dog.'

Winston started her milking the cows, which she did with more than a few reservations. With Fred instructing her, and Dog wagging his tail by her side, she managed. Then, she and Fred gave slop to the pigs and fed grain to the chickens and turkeys. Fred didn't talk much, but Ellie got the feeling that he was cleverer than anyone knew. Dog seemed to take after him, because he was quiet through the whole day.

"Don't you ever bark?" Ellie asked the dog quietly when Fred had left temporarily. "You're the quietest dog ever. Come on. Speak. Woof. Bark. No? Nothing?" She scratched behind his ears and he wagged his tail happily. Fred came back, and she suggested as a joke that they name the dog Bark.

Fred smiled. "I actually thought of that earlier," he said quietly.

"And didn't tell anyone?"

"No, of course not."

Ellie shrugged.

It turned out that Fred had come to show her to Winston, who was about to chop up a cow.

"Watch closely," he said, and began. Fred stood, unblinking, as Winston sawed through the cow's flesh. Ellie folded her arms and tried not to feel particularly squeamish, but her stomach did turn a bit when Winston's knife caught on a bone and he cursed to himself.

Wait a minute.

There's a pun I can make out of this.

"I guess you could say…mis-steaks were made," she offered. Fred didn't even hesitate before face-palming at the joke. Winston hardly even seemed to notice as he continued carving it. The guy certainly knew what he was doing. He put a whole new meaning to 'you can't spell slaughter without laughter.'

When Nick came to relieve her at the end of the day, Ellie was more than ready to be away from the slaughterhouse. The dog—she'd started calling him Bark in her head—followed her. Apparently she paid him more attention than anyone else.

"So, what'd you think of Winston?" Nick asked.

"For a guy called Winston, he doesn't wince a ton, does he?"

"Oh, my God, Greenie."

"Sorry, I've been waiting all bloody day for a chance to say that."

"I'm sure you have. You wanna try Builder out tomorrow?"

"Sure, why not. Ben's a Builder, right?"

"Right. Just actually do your work tomorrow and don't spend all day making jokes."

"I punderstand, sir."

Nick sighed.

She sat with Ben at dinner, and was swiftly joined by Minho. Fred appeared next to her quietly at some point and she noticed him with a start. Billy and Stephen smiled and waved to them, even though they didn't sit with her. Han and Skippy made eye contact with her and gave her a nod.

Ben was excited that she was going to be joining the Builders the next day, and honestly, Ellie was pretty happy to spend a day with a guy she already knew. Learning names was easy, but time-consuming. During dinner, while Minho was verbally beating Ben up with sarcasm and sass, her attempts to defend her friend were occasionally interrupted when she saw a face she knew and tried to attach a name to it.

It was only her fourth day, and all the Gladers' faces were familiar, like she'd seen them around before, or they were people she'd once known. She smiled to herself and hummed a quick tune without thinking.

The Builders were so far, the collectively friendliest group of people in the Glade. The Keeper's name was Frankie, a teenager who seemed to have spent all his life working out. He was muscular, with light brown hair swept to the side and tucked behind his ear. He was obviously in charge, but he was always willing to smile. Dave was a little shorter than Ben was, and had short-cropped black hair. He always seemed to want to impress everyone. Alex was a guy who just smirked and didn't seem to care about anything one way or another, but did his job well anyway.

The whole group was putting together another room onto the Homestead with planks of wood. They'd already constructed the frame in the days before, and it was fairly sturdy after having fallen over once. They put it up wall by wall, nailing the planks of wood to the top and bottom of the frame. They talked and laughed the whole day at the inside jokes of the Builders and the outside jokes from Ellie.

It took them about half the day to cover the sides with vertical planks. Ellie high-fived Ben and cheered, "Nailed it!"

Which was met with mostly friendly groans.

The Builders ate lunch together, grinning and proud of themselves. Frankie outlined how they would need to nail some boards on horizontally over the vertical ones, just for sturdiness' sake. He instructed Dave to climb to the top to put the roof on, and for Ellie to pass him boards whenever he asked for them.

The job was quieter after lunch, since they'd all gotten pretty tired. Ellie didn't mind the silence for the most part, but still ended up humming quietly as she went back and forth fetching wood for Dave.

"Hold on," Frankie said suddenly, stopping her. "What are you doing?"

"Passing things to Dave," Ellie said, confused. What had she done? "You said to."

"No, you were humming," Frankie pointed out. Ellie frowned. She had been. What of it? Frankie, seeing the confusion in her face, said, "No one here hums. No one here can remember a tune to hum. You can?"

Ellie swallowed. Could she? Was her memory coming back? She could hum the tune, but the words were hard to remember, and she couldn't remember where she'd learned it, or who'd written the song.

Frankie had folded his arms, a gesture that for him was less defensive and more an indication that he was thinking. "Can you remember the words?"

Ellie shook her head, latching her mind onto the melody she'd been humming. It felt like the words were on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't quite get them out. It was the closest memory she'd had while at the Glade. She forced herself to hum the tune again, focusing on finding the words.

The lyrics came out of nowhere, startling the klunk out of Frankie, who actually took a step backwards. The other Builders had stopped working and were listening in shock. It was a cheerful tune, and Ellie could hear the music echoing in her mind—piano and guitar. She couldn't recall the words before she sang them—no preparing, she just sang the words that felt right, and they came to her and ended up telling a story of lonely lovers.

Ellie stopped singing. Everyone was frowning in awed concentration, trying to figure out what had just happened. She realized she was frowning, too.

"Two years without any music," Frankie finally said, "And then the first girl who ever showed up can remember actual songs. I'm going to tell Nick. You all, keep working on this room."

Ellie looked to Ben uncertainly. The only thing he could do was shrug.

"You've got a pretty voice, though," said Alex, who had disregarded the song and already started hammering the planks again as if nothing had happened.

"Thanks, Alex, you're really comforting," Ellie said, only a little bit sarcastically. Even though it was obviously weird and unexpected that she could remember tunes when no one else could, it was flattering that Alex had given her a compliment.

But still.

Why did she have to be so different?

Obviously, at dinner, she and Ben told Minho. Dave had joined them. No one was really sure if Fred heard, because as usual, no one was quite sure when he'd arrived. Minho asked her to sing for them, and she sang a little more of the song she'd sung earlier, more and more of the words coming back to her. Stephen sat and complimented them on the new room of the Homestead. Ben blushed a little, and Ellie pretended not to notice.

Ellie had only mildly dreaded Med-jack day since meeting Edward. When Nick took her to meet the Keeper, Henry, at the Homestead, Edward was standing behind him, glaring moodily at the ground. Henry was taller than she was, and shook her hand warmly, giving a thin smile. He seemed genuinely nice, but something was thoroughly stressing him out.

Clint was a slim, reedy guy with curly hair. He nodded kindly at her, seeming a little twitchy. When Henry introduced Edward (since the guy didn't seem intent on talking to her again) all he did was blink irritably to show that he'd acknowledged her presence.

On her sixth day in the Glade hearing references of the famous Newt, Ellie finally got to meet him.

Henry opened the door to his room on the second floor of the Homestead. "Med-jacks don't have much to do when no one's hurt or sick. I'm just glad no one else's gotten sick this week. We have our hands full." His forehead was creased with worry.

Ellie walked in.

The Keeper of the Runners was lying on his back in a bed, staring at the ceiling expressionlessly. One of his legs was splinted with wood, and Ellie noted that whoever set it had known what they were doing. She glanced at Henry, who was staring at the splint with a muscle working in his jaw.

"Hey, Newt," Clint said, going to sit beside him in a chair by the bed.

"Hey," said Newt, not making any attempt to move. A pang of some kind of grief hit Ellie harder than she'd expected. The guy just seemed broken, and not just his leg. Ellie sensed a deep sadness from him. She moved around his table so she could see his face. He had blonde hair and dark eyes, skin that was too pale to be normal. He was a good-looking guy. Or he might have been more good-looking if he'd been smiling.

"You finally get to meet the newest Greenie," Clint pushed.

"The girl?" Newt asked, interest pushing in the way of the sadness in his voice.

"The one and only," Ellie affirmed. His head turned and raised a little so he could look at her. He forced a grin.

"Guess this isn't the most impressive way to meet the Newbie."

"Please," Ellie smirked. "Your reputation precedes you."

"Reputation," Newt snorted. "Didn't know I had one of those."

"Are you kidding? People wouldn't shut up about you when I got here." Ellie folded her arms, sensing the slightest bit of pride entering his reluctant smile. People had been right, they did have the same accent.

"Yeah, well, I'm hardly a Runner anymore, am I?" He grinned ruefully and let his head fall back onto the bed.

"From what I've heard of the Maze, that should be a good thing, mate," Ellie said.

"Sure, 'cept now I feel like a useless piece of klunk."

"You're not useless," Henry said without hesitating or looking at him—he was checking the splint, and gingerly touching Newt's bare shin.

"You might be a piece of klunk, though," said Edward, who had so far remained silent in the corner.

Newt snorted. "Thanks, Ed, you're real bloody encouraging, you are."

Henry seemed to ignore Edward's comment and looked up at Ellie. "Basically, Ellie, all we're doing today is looking after Newt. We sent a request down the Box for advice on how to fix his leg, but until it comes back up, we're doing the best we can."

"Whatever, Henry. I'd say you did a pretty great job of setting his leg. You're probably the only teen in the shuck world who could do something like that," Edward said aggressively, as if he didn't want to compliment the Med-jack Keeper too directly.

"Thanks, Ed," Henry said, covering a small smile. Somehow Ellie got the feeling that only Edward's compliments could mean anything to him. How cute.

"Right," Ellie said. "What do I do while I'm here?"

"Whatever we tell you to. He's gotten a bit of a fever recently, so the first thing you're gonna do is go get a wet cloth for him."

"And just where do I get one of those?"

"Downstairs. Kitchen. Sink. Fry will help you."

Ellie nodded and left the room.

The newest Greenie came back more quickly than Henry usually did when going on the same mission. She was pretty. Tan skin, brown hair. Newt rolled his eyes at himself. He was sure that every Glader had thought the same bloody thing when they'd seen her first.

Honestly, he was glad that Henry had sent her for a wet cloth, because it felt like his fever was getting worse. The room felt too hot, and he was probably sweating way more than he should. Ellie glanced at Henry, who motioned for her to put the cloth on his head. She did, and he really wasn't prepared for the temperature difference. He was worse than he'd thought.

He winced a little as the cloth touched his forehead, and saw Ellie face change quickly to something like amusement, only to change right back again to serious.

"Saw that," he muttered to her.

"Yeah, I need to be more careful with my facial expressions, don't I?"

Newt tried to stop himself from smiling and nodded. A few seconds passed awkwardly with Ellie holding the cloth on his head. A wave of ridiculous embarrassment came over Newt, and he realized how comically awkward the situation was. He made eye contact with Ellie and they held it for just long enough. Newt barked a laugh, and Ellie joined in.

"Well, this is awkward," he said. Ellie was still laughing a little.

"I won't make it weird if you won't make it weird, 'right?" she grinned at him, letting the cloth flop over his face. She took it off almost as quickly as she'd done it, like she was scared of offending him.

But he was still smiling. It felt weird to smile. He hadn't smiled much, if at all, since he'd gotten back. The thought of that wiped the smile from his face again.

"Still feels weird," Newt said, "It's not like you're my mother."

Ellie barked a laugh of surprise. "Bloody hell, I 'ope not. There's been a lot of surprises in the last few days, but that would be too much to handle."

Henry sighed, down by his leg. Ellie looked over, curious. Newt wished he wouldn't sigh like that. It was very discouraging. Apparently, Ellie felt the same.

"Well, that's an encouraging noise," she said sarcastically. Henry stood up and backed away, folding his arms.

He shrugged. "I don't know what I need to do. I set it, and I keep feeling like I need to check it every day. But it doesn't look like there's any change." Henry made eye contact with Newt, and he could see the worry lines that already marked Henry's face.

"If you want a break, I could always go stab someone in the face and you could care for them, instead," Edward offered. Henry just gave him the most paralyzing look of disapproval Newt was sure he had ever seen.

"Guess that's a no, then," Edward muttered grumpily, receding back into his corner again.

"You're charming," Clint told him.

"Thanks," Edward shot back with a voice dripping with malicious sarcasm. "I wake up everyday hoping to impress you."

"Edward," Henry said, with some kind of warning in his voice.

Edward rolled his shoulders and sighed, and left the room. Ellie shrugged and gave Newt a well okay then look.

Ellie spent the day sitting by Newt, doing like Henry said and…doing whatever Newt said. He was a really cool guy, and she found herself liking him more and more until she considered him one of her best friends in the Glade.

Henry, Edward, and Clint ate lunch outside like they usually did, since Clint insisted it was psychologically good for Henry to take a break. Ellie was tasked with the job of bringing Newt lunch, which she did. When she went back out, she got her own lunch (grilled ham and cheese sandwiches, yay!) and brought it right back to the room to keep Newt company. He'd dragged himself towards the head of the bed and propped himself up on some pillows.

"You don't want to eat outside?" he asked.

"Nah, I can eat outside anytime. Plus, I figure eating alone is kinda…"

"Lonely. Yeah." There were a few seconds of silence.

"So you were Keeper of the Runners, right?"

Something crossed Newt's face—that deeper sadness that she'd seen when she'd first seen him. "Yes," he said. "But I don't imagine I will be for much longer."

"What?"

"My leg, Greenie. Nick's no idiot. I can't be a Runner anymore, not with my leg like this."

"It'll heal," Ellie tried, although she really wasn't sure if that was true. Henry was obviously good at this, but he was still a teenager. Not a doctor. Newt knew that, too.

"No. Even assuming Henry set it right, I'm old enough now that it'll take three, four months to heal properly." Newt sighed. "I'm going to nominate Minho as my replacement for Keeper of the Runners at the next bloody Gathering that isn't a bunch of shanks losing their minds 'cause a girl's showed up at the Glade."

Ellie remembered that Gathering. No one had ever told her what it had been about.

"What was said during that?" she asked. "The last Gathering?"

"No one's told you?" Newt raised an eyebrow.

Ellie gave him a look, like, really, I think the answer to that is bloody obvious, mate.

"No one's told you. It was basically just all the Keepers getting together wondering why a girl's come. Some of us thought you were a sign of freedom, some thought you were just a girl, and that they were sending us girls now, and the rest thought you were a bloody spy from the Creators."

"What did you think?"

"I think there's no way you're a spy, so it's one of the other two. I think we've just got to wait until the next Greenie comes and then we'll see."

Ellie sat back in the chair. "Good, that. Did you know I can actually remember some songs?"

Newt turned his head. "You can sing? Actual songs?"

Ellie shrugged. "I've been humming to myself without thinking since I got here. Frankie noticed yesterday."

"Took everyone that long to notice you doing something' that none of us have been able to do since we got here? And you can remember the words?" Newt had been leaning forward in excitement, but now he flopped back onto the pillows in disbelief. "Seems more and more likely you're supposed to be a sign of freedom."

"Be nice, wouldn't it," Ellie agreed.

"You've got no idea. Are you thinking of staying as a Med-jack?"

"Well," Ellie sighed thoughtfully. She really liked talking to Newt, but… "Don't get me wrong, it's fun to talk to you and such. It just feels like I got nothing to contribute here. I don't know anything about bloody doctoring. According to Nick, I'm s'posed to do my part, right? Don't feel like I'm doing much here."

"Fair enough," Newt said. "I wouldn't want to be stuck around whiny shanks all day, either."

"You're not whining."

"I'm whining on the inside."

"Sure."

It felt wrong to leave and let Newt eat dinner alone, but he assured Ellie that he'd be fine, that everyone needed some alone time now and then, and she smirked at him and told him he must have had enough for a lifetime while he was stuck in his bed.

As soon as she left his room to eat dinner, the smile slipped off Newt's face, and he fell back into his painful thoughts yet again. Yet, somehow, he couldn't recall having to fake any of his smiles that day.

Ellie, for her part, tried all night to decipher his deep sadness, even though a smile was on his face most of the time. There had to be something. She was lying on her back in her sleeping bag when an urgent memory pushed at the walled barrier that kept her from her past and she was struck with deep concern for Newt. Even though she knew he was in good hands.

A beetle blade skittered silently past her hand, unseen.

Her seventh day was spent in the kitchen with the fuzzy Frypan. His fellow cooks, Sid and Joe, were nice, and both seemed like they were older than just teenagers. They did their jobs quietly, occasionally muttering something poetic under their breath when they were sure no one was listening. Frypan told them what they were making, and the three worked together flawlessly.

Nick had woken Ellie up early so she could help them with breakfast. Sid gave her a bunch of eggs and told her to scramble them, which she did without messing up. All day, she wished she could make a that's the way the cookie crumbles pun, but it seemed that deserts were a rarity in the Glade. Something that, if she became a Cook, she would fix.

They made sure there was enough barbecue chicken to go around for the barbecue sandwiches at lunch. Sid made a salad dressing, Joe made beans, Frypan and Ellie cut up the chickens, which was fairly mindless work. They ate together in the kitchen.

Ellie hummed all day, after Frypan told her they didn't mind, it was actually kind of nice. She went from song to song, as one tune reminded her of another. She sang the words quietly as soon as they came to her.

The Box came up again that day, Ellie uncertain of the time when it had gone down. Frypan sent her out to get whatever food supplies was in it. Several loaves of bread, wrapped and filling a wooden box with the word WICKED on it. Cans of beans, packs of frozen meats, a bunch more boxes to drag back to Frypan.

Lamb stew for dinner, and Ben told her in passing that it was really good, but Ellie didn't taste it until she brought a bowl to Newt, and they ate the meal together.

"You know you don't have to go out of your way to eat with me."

"Yes I do."

"No, you don't."

"If I don't, I would beat myself up all night with guilt that I let someone eat alone. Friends are really important in this place." She found herself quoting Billy. "I hate seeing lonely people."

"Nothing I can say will make you leave me alone, can it?"

"Well, you could say that you hate me and everything I love, but I wouldn't believe you."

Newt grinned and looked down at his lamb stew. Ellie felt an accomplished surge of happiness every time she made him smile, every time she chased away that feel of deep grief for just a second.

They talked, and Ellie made him laugh twice more. It made her weirdly happy to see him happy.

"What are you gonna be when you're not a Runner?"

"I guess I'll have to go through the same process Greenies do. I've never been anything but a bloody Runner, so I don't really know."

"Be a Med-jack."

"What? Why?"

"So you can literally describe people as bloody."

"Wow."

Ellie spent the next day as one of the Bricknicks, who just went around patching up holes in the Homestead. There was apparently a few lights in the Homestead that had to be fixed or replaced every couple of days, for some reason. Abe, the Keeper, pointed them out to her, since there wasn't much else to do. They tended just to help the Builders out.

Abe had decided recently, though, that there weren't enough picnic tables in the Glade, so he had his two charges (and Ellie) working on constructing new ones from the boards WICKED had sent up in the Box the day before.

"The Bricknicks' picnics," Ellie called it, met with some smiles and tired acknowledgements of her rhyme.

The biggest difference between Bricknicks and Builders, Ellie decided eventually, was that Bricknicks tended to focus more on precision. Builders built rooms on the Homestead, and Bricknicks made sure they were sound. The picnic tables took a while, but ended up very sturdy, and by the end of the day, two new tables had been constructed and run over with sandpaper.

The sandpaper had been prompted when Nick had come to congratulate them, and promptly gotten a splinter from the first table.

"You've been pricked, Nick," Ellie said, elbowing Martin with a smile on that the Gladers had come to associate with puns. Martin smiled like he was tired already of putting up with her, but then gave in and chuckled at her jokes.

Nick just shook his head at her.

"You've finished your first week, Greenbean. Tomorrow you start the jobs again with Baggers." Nick was telling her later.

"I haven't done Baggers yet," Ellie said, confused.

"Not officially. You helped Billy out the day I gave you the Tour."

"That counts?"

"That counts. Baggers don't do much, unless we've got someone in the Slammer, or if someone's died."

Ellie nodded, wondering how someone would die if they followed the rules and stayed in the Glade. Nick was about to leave when she remembered Newt and called, "Wait, did Newt tell you about—"

"About quitting?" Nick said, interrupting her. He turned, a look of frustrated concentration in his eyes. "Yes. I'd been having Alby run into the Maze to map it this past week. He doesn't like it. The Council's voting on the new Keeper and the new Runner tonight, at dinner. Second Gathering in a week." Nick's face contorted in stern disapproval. "We're having a bad stretch."

"They're voting on the new Runner," Ellie said, sitting with Ben, Fred, Billy and Minho at the usual picnic table. Stephen sat down next to Ben as she said it, and she noticed him squirm slightly, and try too hard not to touch Stephen's arm.

"Guess that means Newt's quitting," Minho said, with a certain amount of disappointment. "We get a new Keeper, too, I assume."

"Correct," Ellie said, wondering if he suspected it would be him.

He had not.

Nick and Alby walked towards them from the Homestead at the end of dinner.

"Hey, we get to find out who's the lucky shank," Minho muttered, nodding to them.

"Congratulations, Minho," Alby said, clapping him on the shoulder as they reached him. Minho's face was curious to confused in two seconds.

Nick folded his arms. "You're the lucky shank, shuckface. Enjoy being Keeper of the Runners, Minho."

Minho was up in a second, face to face with Nick, who was ever so slightly taller. "No. I'm not cut out for being Keeper. Newt's always been Keeper, and I've never wanted that from him."

"Newt seems to think you're up for it."

"He's wrong. Go back in there and vote another shank to be the shuck Keeper."

"Minho," Ellie called, trying to calm him down. "It's not like you have to do anything differently as a Keeper." She glanced at Nick to make sure that was true. Minho hadn't taken his eyes off the leader of the Gladers. Nick's eyebrows twitched and he nodded towards her as if to say, She's got a point, Minho. He didn't break eye contact with Minho, like doing that would be a sign of weakness.

Can't have that, can we, Nicholas? Ellie thought.

"Calm down, dude, this is good," Billy said when Minho didn't sit. "You've been a Runner just as long as Newt had."

"You're a Keeper now, you can go to all the Gatherings and stuff," Ben added.

("He's a keeper," Stephen whispered as a joke to Ben, quietly enough so that Minho couldn't hear it.)

Minho was faltering. He looked down, away from Nick's steady eyes. "Fine," he said grouchily, sitting down. "Who's the new Runner I have to train, then?"

"No one," Nick said, already walking away to tell the new Runner the (bad?) news. "Rick already knows how to run the Maze."

Rick. The Track-hoe who looked at me like he expected me to start attacking people. Ellie looked around the Glade, the Gladers sitting in groups, and located Rick. He was sitting with Han, Skippy, and a few people she hadn't yet met. As she and her group of friends watched, Nick and Alby told Rick what he would be doing for the rest of his Glade career. He frowned, looked around at his friends, shrugged, and nodded like he knew he couldn't get out of it.

"He didn't care when we were making the jobs," Minho said. "He narrowed his job options down to Runner or Track-hoe and said he didn't care which they gave him. Newt decided we had to run with conviction, and if there's one word to describe my running style, it's conviction."

"More like convict," Ellie said, then, as mock-encouragement, "Run like you stole something, Minho."

He snorted. "Thanks."