Chapter Seven

Through crimson stars and silent stars and tumbling nebulas like oceans set on fire, through empires of glass and civilizations of pure thought and a whole terrible wonderful universe of impossibilities. You see these eyes? They're old eyes. And one thing I can tell you, Alex - monsters are real. ~ The Doctor

I swiftly grabbed my bag from the floor, heaving the thing onto my poor shoulder. I noticed the device lying on the floor not that far away. A comet, that is what it looked like, with a small tail leading up to it. Strange, it looked like it had been dragged away…

"Clarke, you coming?" Newt called from further in the tree line.

"Yeah," I replied. No time to think, I grabbed the device from the ground and stuffed it into my trouser pocket. Who knows when I needed next?

A few chunks of my hair caught itself on the bag as it slipped from my shoulder. I groaned in frustration as I replaced the bag and tried to untangle from wherever it latched itself on. And to make matters worse, the Creators had conveniently not provided a hairbrush anywhere (that I know of) in the Glade. One option sparked in my mind, steal a fork from Frypan's kitchen. I'm sure he won't mind.

Catching up to Newt, leaning on a tree, we walked in silence towards the dimly lit Glade. Every now and again, he would point out a tree root or a stone that my clumsy feet tried to avoid. Once entering the Glade, I noticed the sky had lightened from its dark colour. I could clearly tell that it was early morning, the sky still dark with a splash of green from where the sun started to rise, or if there was one. Distracted, a hand guided me away from where I was about to step, where I tripped over my feet and grabbed his arm to stop myself from suddenly falling over.

I giggled, then straightened myself. If Newt hadn't been there, then I would have stepped on the poor hunched figure on the floor, and probably created a huge mess of things. I whispered a quieted thank you before we both carried on with our mission.

We carefully stepped over sleeping figures, cocooned within their warm sleeping bags. A few snored as we passed. We made to the opposite side of the Glade, where two figures laid against a tree. From the smaller of the two, I noticed a cluster of curls sprouting from the top. That was Chuck, so the person next to him was the new Greenbean.

Newt motioned for me to stay where I was as he went over and shook the shoulders of the Greenie. The Greenie's eyes snapped open, trying to focus on the person that woke him up. His mouth parted to speak when Newt quickly slapped a hand over it, making sure it stayed shut. The Greenie's eyes widened with him struggling to free himself.

"Shh, Greenie. Don't wanna be wakin' Chuckie, now, do we?"

Greenie nodded his head in agreement, his eyes relaxing into trying to say 'yes'. Newt finally removed his hand from the Greenie's mouth, and then leaned back on his heels.

"Come on Greenie," Newt whispered as he stood. He reached down and helped Greenie to his feet. "Gonna show you somethin' before wake up."

"Okay," he simply said, ready to follow. Greenie quickly leaned over and slipped his worn boots on. "Where are we going?"

"Just follow me. And stay close."

Newt indicated for me to approach, and we both snuck our way through the tightly strewn pack of sleeping bodies. I snuck a glance behind me, seeing, with each time, Greenie tripping over. An earning sharp cry of pain came from behind us. I turned to see a sleeping body punch Greenie in the calf. He must have stepped on someone.

"Sorry," the boy whispered, ignoring my stifled giggles and a dirty look from Newt.

Once we left the lawn area of sleeping Glades and stepped onto the hard grey stone of the courtyard floor, Newt broke out into a deep run heading straight for the western wall. I followed quickly behind, trying to keep up with his pace. My bag jingled beside me, dragging my shoulder down with every step.

Jeez, what on earth was stuffed in there?

I stopped for a second, readjusting the weight of the bag on my shoulder. I, again, glanced behind me to see Greenie hesitated for a second, pondering what on earth was going on, but quickly snapped out of it and ran after us.

The light dim in the Glade, but dark shadows loomed as we approached the wall. I stopped beside Newt, the Greenie not that far behind us. We had stopped right next to the massive walls that towered over us like a skyscraper. This was the closest I had gotten to these damn things since the first time I turned up here, running for my escape. I shifted on my feet, feeling uneasy standing there waiting for something to happen.

"What are those?" Greenie whispered loudly, his voice sounding a tad shaky. I followed his eye line, spotting a pair of twinkling red lights, which held an undercurrent of a warning toward us. No more of them beetle blades, I thought while my hand hovered over my trouser pocket where my device sat, my fingers ready to snap it out in case any of those things decided launched at my face, again.

Newt stood a couple of feet in front of the thick curtain of ivy on the wall. "When you bloody need to know, you'll know Greenie."

"Do you know?" he turned to ask me.

"When you bloody need to know, you'll know Greenie." I mimicked Newt, crossing my arms over to add emphasis.

He huffed at my response. "Well, it's kind of stupid to send me to a place where nothing makes sense and not answer my questions." The Greenie paused, unsure what to say next. "Shank," he added.

Newt broke out in a laugh, ringing through a small section of the Glade. This was quickly cut off when the bag fell from my shoulder. I bent down to pick it up, sighing that I had to throw it back upon my shoulder.

"Oh, leave that where it is," Newt said. He motioned for us to step forward towards the wall. "I like you. Greenie. Now shut it and let me show somethin'."

He stepped forward and dug his hands into the thick ivy, spreading several vines away from the wall to reveal a dust-covered window, spanning two feet wide. No light perplexed the surface at the moment, only painting a dark black across the screen.

"What're you looking for?" Greenie asked.

"Hold your undies, boy. One'll be comin' along soon enough."

Newt crooked his head to me and rolled his eyes. I smirked at the response, blissfully unaware that the Greenie was studying the motion.

A minute passed, then two more. Several more. Greenie fidgeted on his feet, knocking them together across the dirt. He wasn't a patient type of person.

A shuffling sound came beside me and I glanced up to see the Greenie standing by my shoulder, words forming on his mouth.

"I'm Thomas," he whispered in my ear. I fully turned to face the Greenie, to study him (like Chuck did). Greenie was tall, at least another head on me. His messy dark brown hair contemplated his dark brown eyes, with the even darker bags under them. The old life forgotten must had been tough if he was carrying the burden into the Maze. He wore a light blue that seemed to fit snugly round his body.

I could have gone on, but a waiting light appeared in his eyes, expecting a reply.

Sticking out my hand, I answered. "Name's Clarke."

"Clarke?"

"Yeah, problem?"

"No, it's just …" He paused for a minute, his face scrunching up in a ball as if he was trying to remember something. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" I pushed, raising my eyebrow. What is wrong with this kid? Did he remember something important? Greenie involuntarily took a step back, showing he wasn't sure what to do.

"I can't … remember," Greenie stuttered.

"Of course," I half-laughed, shaking my head. "You can't remember."

I eyed him for a second before I continued to stare through the black window. Greenie once again shuffled to my side, not talking for a full two minutes.

"Why did you go … erm … punch someone yesterday?"

If looks could kill, then mine did. Greenie took that step back again, a worried expression creasing his face. One more condescending thing that sprouted from his mouth, he would no longer have one.

"Remember Clarke, rule two." Newt either read my mind, or he had eyes in the back of his head. Not once had he even glanced in our direction, his eyes focused on the dark window.

Rule number two, don't harm another Glader – or something along them lines.

"I wasn't gonna hurt him, only shake him up a bit," I muttered, relieved that Newt interrupted, what could have been, a messy situation.

Not wanting to discuss the problems with me anymore, I left Greenie to join Newt in his staring game with darkness. I studied his intent face, his eyes trying to search for something or just waiting. My eyes drifted from his face to the window, where the darkness sucked in the light. I unwillingly shivered staring into the darkness, the nightmare still raw. A nightmare, that all it was, a figment of my creative imagination.

An eerie light flashed through the window, casting a wavering spectrum of colour on my body and face. A smile cracked my lips as a fuzzy memory leaked in; me running towards a bright blue sea, hand intertwined with a young girl. Her face crinkled in delight, the wind whipping at our faces, blowing through her dark long hair. She stumbled as we ran faster, but she squealed for as to go as fast as the wind will take us! And so we did.

Once our bare feet splashed into the cold water, we both shrieked and giggled in delight. Bounding around, running away from the waves. We, both, were having the time of our lives. We, both, had the time of our lives. For as soon as the memory appeared, it drifted away with the whipping wind. Till, eventually, all that was left were the bright sparkling blue eyes that shone in delight.

My eyes snapped up once the memory faded, stopping the tears from falling. No one here would see me cry. No one.

"Out there's the Maze," Newt whispered, placing his hand to on the glass. I saw that his eyes were wide as if he was in some sort of trance. "Everything we do – our lives – revolves round the Maze. Every lovin' second of every lovin' day we spend in honour of the Maze, tryin' to solve somethin' that's not shown us it has a bloody solution, ya know? And we want to show ya why it's not be messed with. Show ya why them buggin' walls close shut every night. Show why you two should never, ever find your butts out there."

Newt stepped back, still holding the ivy vines within his hands. He gestured for Greenie, behind us, to take his place next to me and look through the window for himself.

Greenie did, he crossed over and leaned forward until his nose touched the surface of the glass. His eyes widened, a gasp escaping his mouth. Greenie had found something, and I wanted to see it as well. My eyes snapped back to look through the dark window. It took a second for them to focus on the moving object on the other side of the glass, to look past the grime and dust and see what Newt wanted me to see, and what Greenie had found. A breath caught in my throat like an icy wind had blown down there and frozen the air solid.

A large, bulbous creature the size of a cow, but with no distinct shape, twisted and seethed along the ground in the corridor outside. It climbed the opposite wall, then leaped at the thick-glassed window with a loud thud. Greenie shrieked beside me, he gripped my hand in fright. He jerked away from the window, almost tearing my arm out of its socket. Terror swamped his eyes as the thing bounced backwards, leaving the glass undamaged.

Greenie sucked in two large breaths and leaned in once again, never letting go of my hand. He was scared, but brave. Greenie was willing to look once more at the creature, whereas I was only scared for my hand not dropping off.

I surprised myself. Not once was I taken back by the creature. Maybe, because there was a strong window that protected the inside.

As long as I didn't end up out there, then everything would be okay. But, something dawned on me. No matter how much I stared at the hideous creature behind the glass, something at the back of my mind whispered what I had witnessed before was nothing compared to this. And that person to not be afraid of it, meant either she had huge amounts of courage or was just some risk taker. Either way, I knew for certain I wasn't that person anymore.

Odd lights flashed from an unknown source, revealing blurs of silver spikes and glistening flesh. Wicked instruments-tipped appendages protruded from its body like arms: a saw blade, a set of shears, long rods whose purpose could only be guessed.

The creature was horrific mix of animal and machine and seemed to realise it was being observed, seemed to know what lied inside the walls of the Glade, seemed to want to get inside and feast on human flesh.

When the Greenie braved up a bit, he finally let go of my crushed hand and took a step back. He edged in a bit closer to the glass.

I took another step back from the window, no longer wanting to look at the creature looming outside. I joined Newt to where he was stood, a hint of annoyance flickering in his eyes. Soon as I saw it, it disappeared. However, his arms were crossed over his chest, no smile. It felt strange not to see him smile, instead with a scowl. All the time I had been round him, he was either laughing at me or well, mainly, at me.

"What's the matter?" I whispered to him.

"Nothin'," he whispered back, through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, sure." I rolled my eyes. "You look like a cat that has been dragged through a bush, backwards." I laughed, trying to cheer him up. It didn't work, something was bothering him.

"What is that thing?" Greenie asked, oblivious to our small conversation.

"Grievers, we call 'em." Newt answered. "Nasty buggers, eh? Just be glad the Grievers only come out at night. Be thankful for those walls."

Greenie seemed to be in a trance with the thing, watching it's every move. Newt left my side and walked to stand next to him by the window. He looked through it absently. "Now you know what bloody lurks in the Maze. Now you know that this isn't a joke. You've been sent to the Glade, Greenie, and we'll be expectin' ya to survive and help us do what we've been sent here to do."

"And what is that?"

I drifted away from where I was standing and ended up picking up my bag, heaving it onto my other shoulder. The first traces of the invisible sun had crept on us while we were here.

"Find our way out," Newt said behind me. "Solve the buggin' Maze and find our way home."

A couple of hours later, the doors reopened; the ground shaking with each of its rumbling and grumbling until they were finished. Newt left us for the morning outside the Homestead; my guess was the he had to help the Med-jacks with Ben. He seemed to be in a foul mood when he sullenly walked away, hands shoved into his trouser pocket and grumbling as he crashed through the Homestead door. I wanted to follow him and question what was up, but I thought it best to leave him cool down. Better that then have my head bitten off.

I stayed with Greenie (unfortunately) who had taken a seat on a worn, tilted picnic table. He wasn't much of a talker once we both sat down, only grumbling muted words whenever I tried to start a conversation with him. The Grievers might have disturbed him quite a bit.

As the early morning daylight lit up the Glade, I now had the advantage of looking through my bag that was still slung over my shoulder. I pulled it up and over my head, and sent it with a crash on to the table. I flipped the top of the bag open and started to pull out the books again. I counted at least fifteen A4 notebooks stacked messily into the bag. And, with a quick flick, I noticed that there was no order to them. No small number, no small letter. It didn't really make sense.

To reassert my nagging brain, I pulled one of the books out of its position and threw it open.

"What the," I said, as I skimmed through the notebook. I pulled another out. Same again. Another. The exact same. What I thought were all blank notebooks that had randomly come into my possession, were now all filled bursting with intricate patterns, swirls and circles. Over the next few minutes frantically searching through the books, I noticed speckles of blood on a few of the pages. Eventually, these speckles turned into dark red stains.

Blood. My blood. I think.

Putting the books aside, I searched for something else, something more specific.

My hand reached to the bottom, and brushed a dry, flaky substance that coated a section of my bag. More searching came across a small object made of metal. I dragged out the object and discovered that, in my hand, a small knife – something that would be used in an operating theatre. This knife didn't shine with the metal, its brightness was dulled down by blood that coated the thing. Whatever happened with this knife, I knew that I had used it and exactly what on.

I rubbed my written arm, covered under the long sleeve of the shirt I wore. I banished the thought to the back of my mind until a later date.

Tired and hungry, I rose from the worn table to grab breakfast from Frypan. I grabbed my plate, stored on the many shelves lining the outside of the building, and was handed a plate full of eggs, bacon and sausages that steamed in my face. My stomach grumbled in delight at the food. I missed lunch and dinner the previous day, and my stomach was not pleased with what I done. I bet it felt betrayed for all the food I had missed.

"Someone tryin' to start an earthquake over there," Frypan said as a cheesy grin snaked across his face. I rolled my eyes and walked back to where I had left my bag and the Greenie. Sitting down back down, I watched Greenie get up and return to the table. It was a waste for food, he only picked at it with a fork. Something damning was on his mind. He spoke to no one, not even when Chuck came bounding over with a smile. The poor kid had exhausted himself trying to start a conversation with Greenie, who'd refused to respond. It seemed like he wanted to be left alone.

Seeing the kid's sadden eyes, I spoke to him instead. Who needs an arrogant Greenie anyway.

"What you been up to this mornin', Chuck?"

"Nothing much. Got a bit worried when Thomas wasn't there when I woke, but figured Newt must 'ave shown him the Grievers."

"Cool."

Our conversation was cut short when Alby approached us and tapped Greenie on the shoulder. Jarring himself from his thoughts, Greenie looked up to see Alby standing over him, arms folded.

"Ain't you lookin' fresh," Alby said. "Get a nice view out the window this morning? Enjoy the little buggers."

"Much," I grumbled through mouth fulls of food. At this point, I had snuck food from the Greenie's plate while he wasn't looking. Chuck eyed me for the first few grabs, but eventually let it pass. He seemed a person that couldn't hold a secret for long, but was all up for pranks. A strange boy indeed.

"Enough to make me want to learn more about this place," Greenie said, carefully picking his words so that he wouldn't provoke the temper Alby had when he was mad.

Alby nodded. "Me and you, shank. The Tour begins now." He started to move but stopped holding up a finger. "Ain't no questions till the end, you get me? Ain't got time to jaw with you all day."

"But …" Greenie stopped when Alby's eyebrow shot up, he's going to push it isn't he? "But tell me everything – I wanna know everything." I let out a breath of air that I hadn't realised I was holding. This kid wanted to end up as Greenie-splattered meat across the floor, if he asked any more questions.

"I'll tell ya what I wanna tell ya, Geenie. Let's go."

"Can I come?" Chuck's voice squeaked from the table we were sat at.

Alby reached down and pinched the boy's ear.

"Ow!" Chuck shrieked.

"Ain't you got a job, slinthead?" Alby asked. "Lots if sloppin' to do?"

Chuck rolled his eyes, then looked at Greenie. "Have fun."

"What about me, what do I do today?" I piped up. Usually Alby told me at the beginning of the day what I was doing and who I was with, showing me where to go.

"Wait there 'til Newt comes down for ya. He'll tell you what ya doin'."

And with that, he turned on heels and stormed off with Greenie close behind him.