They hadn't waited as long to light the fire as they usually did. As soon as the first few stars appeared above them, Alby instructed the fire to be lit and the party to begin. Frypan rationed out small portions of food alongside Gally's special brew, a drink that even the oldest Gladers were still getting used to. Everyone seemed to loosen up, dividing into their groups, filling the night with loud laughter.
Cleo had found a comfortable spot beside the fire hanging out with Alby and Chuck, telling stories to the younger boy and laughing at his reactions. After Chuck had sucked himself into his little whittling project and Alby had moved on to talk to a couple other boys, Cleo excused herself. Just a little way away, sitting with their backs to the party, she found Newt and Greenie.
"Here. Put some hair on your chest." Newt handed over the jar of brown liquid over to his friend, who inspected it nervously.
Cleo watched with amusement as he took a long sip and then proceeded to spit it back out in front of him, choking and passing it back to Newt.
"What is that?" He coughed.
Newt laughed, taking another sip, "I don't even know. It's Gally's recipe. It's a trade secret."
"It definitely has an acquired taste." Cleo decided to join in then, plopping down beside Newt. He passed her the drink, which she took happily.
"Yeah, well, he's still an asshole." The Greenie grumbled, not trying to hide his hard feelings towards said Glader.
Newt and Cleo exchanged a look. He wasn't completely wrong. But while Gally could be an asshole, he was doing the right thing. If the Greenie had gone into the Maze, he would have been dead. In a totally dickish way, Gally was doing newbie here a favor.
"He saved your life today," Newt reasoned, "Trust me. The Maze is a dangerous place."
"We're trapped here, aren't we?" Greenie breathed, and a weight settled over the other two.
"For the moment," Newt agreed, taking back the drink, "But you see those guys? There, by the fire?" The trio turned to peer over the log, finding the group Newt was pointing at. They were sitting quietly to themselves, enjoying their own drinks and dinner. The boys were talking very animatedly with one another, while Minho sat quietly between them, scooping at his dinner plate. His eyes were cast out towards the rest of the crowd, taking it all in. Surveying.
"Those are the runners," He continued, "That guy in the middle there, that's Minho. He's the Keeper of the Runners. Every morning, when those doors open, they run the Maze, mapping it, memorizing it, trying to find a way out."
Cleo looked over at the Greenie, only to find him staring at her already, "How long have they been looking?"
The trio turned back around, relaxing against the log once again.
"Three years." Newt breathed.
"And they haven't found anything?"
Cleo chuckled at his incessant questions, "It's a lot easier said than done."
They sat silently for a moment, each staring at the large walls in front of them. In the dark, they looked almost daunting. Big, black masses that cornered them into the Glade, like the cage that had brought them up here in the first place. But they weren't meant to keep them inside. That's what Cleo told herself anyway. No, they were there to protect them from what lie just beyond them, hidden within the Maze. So, while they appeared terrifying, they gave Cleo the comfort and safety she needed. As if knowing the three were talking about it, the Maze began to move, shifting and changing like it did every night.
"Listen," Newt made sure to get the Greenie's attention, "Hear that? It's the Maze, changing. It changes every night."
Greenie shook his head in disbelief, "How is that even possible?"
"You can ask the people who put us in here, if you ever meet the bastards," Newt joked back, "Listen, the truth is, the runners are the only ones who really know what's out here. They are the strongest and the fastest of us all. And it's a good thing, too, because if they don't make it back before those doors close, then they are stuck out there for the night," He sighed, looking at Cleo briefly, "And no one has ever survived a night in the maze."
"What happens to them?" Greenie pushed.
Cleo elbowed Newt's side, signaling that it was enough for tonight. Too many questions could get them in trouble. And with how things were going with Greenie, maybe giving him too much information at once wasn't the best idea. But damn, he asked a hell of a lot of questions.
Newt either ignored her or didn't feel her protest, pushing himself up closer to the log, "Well, we call them Grievers."
Cleo threw her head back, rolling her eyes, and lifted the drink from Newt once again to take another long swig.
"Of course, no one's ever seen one and lived to tell about it," Newt continued, "But they're out there."
Greenie swallowed, looking back towards the Maze. Having enough, Cleo took it into her own hands to change the subject.
"Right, that's enough," She slapped a hand down on Newt's leg and pushed herself up, "Come on," she moved around him, extending a hand out to the Greenie, "You're supposed to be the guest of honor."
He shook his head in protest, looking to Newt for help. When the boy gave him none, he returned to shaking his head up at the girl. She didn't budge, leaning down to grab his arm and yank him up, "No! No, come on. Let me show you around. Come on."
With a wave to Newt, she dragged Greenie away and back towards the party.
They weaved themselves through the groups of boys, dodging flailing limbs and clumsy steps backwards. Cleo had let go of Greenie once they had reached the others but he made a point to stay at her side as she guided him.
"And there we've got the builders," She pointed to the three boys off to the side, talking amongst themselves, "They're very good with their hands," A smile spread across her face as she tapped her temple, "But not a lot going on upstairs."
Greenie nodded along with her, smiling back at her subtly before she moved them on to the next group.
"And then we've got Winston. He's the Keeper of the Slicers," Her attention turned quickly to the two boys walking past them, "And we've got two Med-Jacks, Clint and Jeff."
Both boys waved as their names were called respectively, giving the new kid a nod before continuing on their way.
Cleo elbowed him, leaning in to add, "They spend most of their time bandaging up the Slicers."
Greenie wasn't paying attention though, his eyes drifting to the runners sitting by themselves. Cleo could tell what he was thinking before he could even say anything and shook her head. Elbowing him once again in the side, she gave him a pointed look.
"You don't want to be a runner," When he opened his mouth to protest, she continued on, "Besides, you gotta get chosen."
His eyebrows furrowed together and he turned to face her completely.
"Chosen by who?"
Before an answer could be given, Greenie was shoved forward, almost tackling Cleo to the ground. She steadied her footing, grabbing onto him to keep him from falling as well and tried to see who had shoved him. Another kid, Jack or Jake, she couldn't remember, was stumbling to the side, waving an apology as Gally stepped up.
"What do you say, Greenie?" He tempted, pushing the sleeves of his shirt up further. Cleo let go of the Greenie, stepping back in line beside Chuck, a small smile playing on her lips.
"Wanna see what you're made of?"
Cleo could deny the amusement she got out of watching Gally pick on kids he knew had no chance against him. She found it a little morbid, her thinking it was fun, but it only solidified the image she had of Gally in her head. He presented himself stronger than he was. First sign of real danger and he'd turn tail and run. But tonight, against the newcomer, he was top dog. She didn't hesitate egging on the Greenie along with everyone else, cheering as he obliged and followed Gally into the makeshift ring.
"The rules are simple, Greenie," Gally bounced on his toes, "I try to push you out of the circle, you try to last more than five seconds."
Someone called out for Gally to take it easy, but it seemed to fall on deaf ears. The two boys in the circle stared at each other, neither hiding the emotions they were feeling. While Gally bounced confident, Greenie was practically shaking. Cleo almost hoped Gally would get his ass handed to him. Just once.
Within seconds, Gally had rushed his opponent, shoving him into a couple of boys, who pushed him back and had him on the ground. The boys around them whooped and hollered, high-fiving each other. Greenie laid on the ground for a moment before pushing back up to his feet.
"Come on, Greenie. We're not done yet." Gally teased, pacing like a wild animal in his corner.
"Stop calling me that." Greenie spit back.
The group 'oohed' in response. Chuck latched on to Cleo out of excitement, his smile beaming up at her as he laughed along with the others before becoming engrossed in the fight once again.
"Stop calling you that?" Gally chuckled, "What do you wanna be called? Shank? What do you think, boys?" He turned around to the crowd, "Does he look like a Shank?"
They erupted again in a chorus of agreement, even Cleo, who bit her tongue to stop laughing when the Greenie shot her a glance. She saw the irritation grow in his expression and gasped when he charged Gally, grabbing onto his shoulders. They twisted in each other's arms for a moment before Gally was able to throw him backwards. Greenie tumbled to the ground, rolling at bit.
"You know what? I think I've settled on Shank." Gally triumphed.
He was getting cocky, pointing at members in the crowd, showing off to anyone that cared. Cleo rolled her eyes. Greenie stood back up, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. They looked at one another and she patted her hips. Greenie glanced from her to Gally, before understanding what she meant. Racing forward, he ducked and caught Gally by his sides, locking on tightly. Gally pushed back, having the upper hand in the weight department but Greenie was smarter. Dropping his shoulder, he ducked away from Gally's push, sending the boy to the ground. A gasp rippled through the crowd, all eyes on the newbie.
"Not bad for a Greenie, huh?" The boy stood over Gally triumphantly.
Irritated and slightly embarrassed, Gally rolled over, taking the boy out with his feet. Greenie hit the ground with a hard thud, his head slamming against the sand. The others cringed and sighed. Gally stepped out of the circle, out of breath and clearly the winner. As the crowd began to disperse once again, however, Greenie jumped up.
"Thomas!" He shouted, the group looking at one another.
"I remember my name. I'm Thomas!"
There was a brief moment of silence before Alby called out and they crowded around the Greenie once again. They took turns patting him on the back, Frypan even brought him another cup of the horrible tasting liquid. He took a big gulp from it, either out of excitement or just pure thirst.
But Cleo stayed were she was. Her feet seemed frozen to the ground, immobile as her head wrapped around the name. Thomas. She knew that name. Thomas.
"Good job, Thomas." Gally shook his hand, a sign of some kind of truce, when a sound erupted from within the Maze.
Cleo blinked, noticing Chuck's hand latching onto her own. It wasn't anything new. It had plagued many of their nightmares. But it seemed louder this time. Closer than it had ever been before. The rest of the boys seemed to have noticed as well, quieting down and staring out at the Maze.
"What was hell was that?" Thomas breathed, eyes widened slightly in terror.
"That my friend," Gally placed a hand on his shoulder, "Is a Griever."
Seeing the obvious discomfort in his expression, Newt came up on Thomas's other side, "Don't worry, you're safe here with us. Nothing gets through those walls."
Chuck seemed to hear this as well, and while his hand stayed locked with Cleo's, he did loosen his grip, clearing his throat. She smiled down at him, ruffling his hair.
"All right, guys," Alby's voice boomed through the night, "Let's tuck it in for the night."
Boys moaned and groaned but all the same, began cleaning up the mess they had made. Stragglers stayed behind to congratulate Thomas one last time before milling about back to their hammocks.
After sending Chuck off to bed, Cleo started helping Frypan put away dinner scraps. She helped put out the remaining fire and pack up any drinks left over, saving them away for the next bonfire. She wasn't sure if she was happy to see that Thomas had stayed around to help, doing whatever he could to get things cleared away so they could go to bed faster, but she tried to pretend the knot in her stomach was nonexistent. As the remaining kids lumbered back to bed, stifling yawns and rubbing at their eyes, she found herself falling in step beside him.
There wasn't a word spoken between them but it was a comfortable silence. Cleo stared down at her shoes, yawning. Her eye lids were heavy and she couldn't wait to get into her bed. Thomas didn't seem to mind the silence either, yawning himself. When they reached the hammocks, they parted ways.
"Goodnight, Thomas." She smiled, finding it odd to hear the name roll off her own tongue.
He smiled back, "Goodnight -" furrowing his eyebrows together, he tried to remember if she had given her name.
"Cleo." She lended and he gave her a small nod.
"Goodnight, Cleo."
As she crawled into her hammock, she knew sleep was a lost cause. At least, for now. And after dark, there wasn't much to do, except stare at the roof above you and listen to the sounds of the Glade and Maze. It had become almost like a lullaby, listening to the Maze change. She missed it from time to time. Being out there. Running. It had been two years since she had last stepped foot in the Maze, but it felt like only days ago. She absentmindedly rubbed the scar on her wrist, finger tips cold against the tender skin. And then another thought crossed her mind. One that she hoped she would be able to keep at bay. It had weaseled itself inside her mind, marked it's territory and decided it would say a while.
Thomas.
But that was it. There was nothing else for her to go off of. She just replayed the moment she say him in the box over and over again. The moment he leapt up and presented his name to the rest of the Gladers. But nothing that could help ease her mind. Just his name. And his face.
Finally, sleep got the best of her and she curled in on herself, falling asleep to the changing Maze and snoring boys.
"You must be careful, my little bean." The voice she had heard many times in her dreams, had wafted itself into her mind as she slept.
It was nurturing, and it didn't take her long to figure out it was her mother. But while she had heard it many times in her sleep, memorized the tone, she still couldn't put a face to the name. And so, the woman remained faceless, Cleo finding comfort in the voice that floated through out and reassured her, even if it was her own mind playing tricks on her.
But something was different about tonight. While, the dreams usually consisted of visions of the glade or even sometimes just darkness, this dream was tented blue. She felt suspended, light like a feather. And the voice seemed vivid, missing the usually airy tone she had come to associate it with.
"It's too dangerous for you to be acting this way." Her mother scolded.
Then another voice broke through, one she hadn't heard in a long time but knew instantly.
"I can't watch them go through this. Not anymore. They're my friends."
It was her own. Younger, but still her own. The room around her was becoming brighter, too bright. As if the light was rushing towards her, filling the spaces around her.
"Promise me you won't do anything." The familiar echo in her mother's voice seemed further away.
And then, for only a split second, eyes flashed in front of her. Wide, brown eyes, framed by thick lashes. She knew them. She had seen them before. She called out to her mother, heard her reply, though the words fell into the air around her and were lost before they reached her. Then, growing as it neared, came the sound of an alarm. It had been ages since she had heard it. The sound of her new life beginning. The bright light faded into darkness and a pressure rested on her chest.
For a moment she thought she was falling, then came the rising feeling, the alarm still blaring in her ears. And then everything stopped. The suspended feeling returned, but this time it wasn't pleasant. This time, she felt constricted. Her lungs were burning, she could feel her heartbeat slowing. It felt as if she were drowning.
She woke in a cold sweat, gasping for air and gripping at her chest. Around her, boys snored, unaware of their friend's predicament. It was just now dawn, the sunlight barely visible over the Maze walls. Taking in deep breaths, she laid back down, staring up at the roof. The burning feeling had disappeared, but the dream were still vivid in her mind. Her mother, warning her. The eyes. The familiar brown eyes.
So this chapter is a lot longer than the others, but halfway through writing the entire story, I've decided to change things up a bit, so I'm adding and deleting a bunch and this chapter got away from me. I, personally, like this chapter and I hope you guys too. Thank you to everyone who is reading this. As always, enjoy and don't be afraid to leave a comment!