Disclaimer: I don't own any characters from the Maze Runner series nor any recognizable storylines from the novels/movies. I only own my character(s) and basic plot of this story. This is rated T for language and mature scenes.
present day
He jerked away from her finally, unable to stand the sight of her any longer and she exhaled slowly, shakily, her stomach churning and threatening spill whatever was left of its contents.
"Look, no one said anything about dying," Thomas spoke up for the first time, still kneeling near Alby's body. Amy stared at him through half-lidded eyes, having trouble making out the features on his face with how dark it was growing around them. "We're going to take this one step at a time. If I can help it, no one here is dying tonight."
Amy swallowed thickly and rolled her head upward, staring at the vast sky above. There were no stars, though for some reason she really wished there were. She hadn't seen them in so long. She needed some sort of semblance that not all surrounding her was evil. She needed some evidence of purity or good that could cleanse her soul from the darkness threatening to smother it. She felt like a caged animal.
Minho scoffed, shaking his head. "Stupid, the both of you."
"Are you just going to give up?" Thomas demanded, climbing to his feet. "Just lay down and die? Offer yourself up to the Grievers without so much as a fight?"
Minho looked weary and tired as he leaned against the wall opposite Amy. "There's just three of us, man. Not even that's enough against one of those bastards. The second those doors closed we were dead."
"Yeah, so you've said," Thomas spat, throwing his arms up in the air. "But we're still alive now, aren't we?" The light of the moon cast an eerie glow over their features and Amy shivered, trying not to feel spooked. "I like to think we get a say in our own lives. So unless you want to be a coward, maybe you can try to help keep us breathing."
Minho wiped a hand down his face, glancing up at the night sky much like Amy had. She wondered if he was thinking the same thing she was, about the stars.
"What's wrong with Alby?" she finally asked.
Minho didn't look at her but he still answered.
"Griever got him," he said and she winced, heart squeezing painfully behind her ribcage. "I did what I had to do before he started Changing."
"Let's start with him then," Thomas said, quickly grabbing onto one of Alby's limp arms and hoisting it over his shoulder. "We can't exactly run around with him in the maze with Grievers on our tails. He's just dead weight, he'll hold us back."
"What exactly do you expect us to do?" Minho retorted with a bit of snark.
"We hide him," Thomas said, determined. "Put him somewhere safe where the Grievers can't get to him. That way we can come back for him in the morning."
Minho gestured around them with attitude as if to say, "Look around, slinthead."
"Where do you suppose we hide him?" Amy asked carefully, seeing as how Minho didn't dignify Thomas with an actual response.
Thomas quickly motioned Minho forward, signaling to Alby's other side and with a roll of his eyes Minho came to help lift him up.
"Let's go find somewhere," Thomas announced once they were both standing. He gazed over at Amy and tilted his head, silently asking her to follow them and with a deep breath she pushed away from the wall.
Amy wasn't sure how long they walked.
Time seemed to have no meaning in the maze and the further they got from the entrance the more uneasy she felt. There was a voice whispering in the back of her head that they'd never find their way back. Minho may know the maze backwards and forwards in the daylight but at night it was another thing entirely. She tried engraining into her mind every twist and turn they took as Thomas looked for a gully in the walls that the Grievers couldn't reach. Right, right, left, right, left, left.
She tried not thinking about the Grievers but after so long of hearing nothing but their own erratic breaths and uneven footsteps she couldn't help but wonder where they were. Every movement her eyes could perceive would stiffen her shoulders. The darkness made her feel on edge and disoriented and the shadows that licked at the edges of her vision nearly rendered her catatonic. She wasn't sure if the shadows were even there or if they were just figments of her imagination due to her paranoia.
Every now and then the hushed whispers of Thomas and Minho would reach her ears. She assumed with her lack of visibility that her other senses would heighten but even in the dark she strained to hear their words. Their tones were harsh and Amy figured them butting heads was the least of her worries so she trailed along after them in silence.
At one point Minho whispered loud enough to where Amy could hear him that they were venturing too far from the doors and needed to circle back. They were inching closer to the section of the maze that was going to open up for the night and Amy didn't question him on it. She was quick to turn on her heels and march back the way they came, only to be halted by Thomas.
"Look at this," he whisper-shouted and she turned to where his free arm was pointing upward.
She squinted as she tried following its direction and upon closer inspection she recognized a free-hanging vine dangling a few feet above their heads against the wall. He carefully removed himself from underneath Alby's arm and Minho huffed at the extra weight he had to support.
Thomas inspected the vine, trying to discern where it was coming from. As quietly as he could, he pulled the moss, digging into it to find the other end of the vine.
Amy dared to glance behind her, though her observations were quickly rendered useless as she couldn't see anything anyway. She turned her back to the wall adjacent from where Thomas was standing, feeling more comfortable knowing there was something solid behind her rather than open air.
Out of nowhere, a horrible groan echoed throughout the maze, startling the three of them as they jumped.
After hearing nothing for so long the loudness made their ears ring. The groan was followed by shifting concrete, walls graveling against one another with metallic clangs that pierced the air.
"The maze is changing," Minho said, gripping Alby tighter. "The next sector is opening. We don't have much time."
Thomas had halted his movements in fear of the horrible sound but after hearing Minho's warning he continued peeling the moss away with fervor.
"Here," he finally said, grabbing hold of the other end of the vine. He tugged on it and the end that dangled above them swayed a little. "We use this as a pulley."
He dug the toe of his shoes into the moss at his feet and propelled himself upward to grab the vine. He pulled Minho and Alby forward and took hold of Alby around his chest, quickly replacing his arms with the vine and wrapping it tight around the boy's torso. Careful to not crush his ribs, Thomas secured the vine in a knot and tugged on it roughly a few times to test its strength. It didn't budge.
He sat Alby on the ground and took hold of the vine's other end. He grabbed the other end of the vine, gazing down at Alby before gripping the rope tightly and squaring his knees. When nothing happened he turned to look at Minho and Amy, who were both staring blankly right back at him. Thomas rolled his eyes.
"Help me," he stressed with a flare of annoyance and something finally clicked, jumping them into action as they grabbed onto the rope as well.
The roaring of the maze had become white noise to their ears to the point that they hadn't even noticed it anymore until suddenly the noise came to an abrupt end and it was unnervingly quiet once more. They paused, sparing each other nervous looks, before they combined their strength and pulled hard.
Alby was carefully lifted from the ground, rising a few inches every couple of seconds. Amy was stood in the middle of the two as she had less upper body strength than they did and she felt Minho peek his head around the corner as they continued to pull with all their might.
He was shaking like a leaf. From the exertion or something else, she couldn't tell. But upon looking back into his face, whatever he saw down the path had him rooted to the spot, eyes wide and glossed over with fear.
"Keep pulling," Thomas hissed over his shoulder and she blinked herself out of her stupor, feeling faint, and gritted her teeth as she yanked harder on the vine. Her hands were starting to cramp up and sweat. Alby was a couple of feet off the ground now, hanging precariously above their heads. The vine held true and kept him in place. Thomas huffed and pulled a little more, Amy following in his wake but she felt Minho fall limp behind her.
"Oh god," he whispered shakily, voice having risen an octave higher. He inched closer to her, his stuttering breath fanning over her neck in hot puffs and his fingers relinquished their hold on the vine in order to grip her waist tightly instead.
"Minho," she breathed, too afraid to say anything else. He was still watching around the corner, pursing his lips as his chin fluttered and trembled at the sight he was met with.
His eyes widened further and the sound of metal rang in her ears, thumping dully on the ground below and echoing off the walls with a hint of malice. The foreboding stilled her as the rumbling of the thing's footfalls grew louder and all the strength she'd mustered left her. Thomas undoubtedly heard it too and he kept a steady hand on the vine to keep Alby from plummeting to the ground.
Gasping, she felt Minho's lips at her ears and he uttered just loud enough to where she and Thomas could hear him, "Run."
Minho grabbed one of Amy's hands off the vine.
"But it's not secure—" Thomas started, only to sputter and struggle with the weight of holding Alby up by himself as Amy was heaved away.
Amy gasped and tried prying her fingers from Minho's grasp but he kept an iron-tight grip on her hand and ran, forcing them down the path furthest from Thomas with a look of hysteria in his eyes.
"What about Thomas!" she cried but Minho didn't answer her.
Instead he veered to the left and shoved them down another pathway, only to halt suddenly and pull Amy into him against the wall with his hand over her mouth, muffling her yelp into his palm.
Amy tried to calm her breathing, feeling the rise and fall of Minho's chest against her back as she leaned into him, unable to stop the tremors from rushing through her body. She could feel her throat closing up as pangs of fear shot through her gut and straight up into her heart. She couldn't remember ever feeling this scared, in her current life or past. She assumed intense fear of that magnitude was something the brain or the body could remember, like muscle memory. But this terror was shocking her nervous system, like bolts of electricity coursing through her veins, and she almost couldn't keep herself upright.
In this moment she was thankful that Minho was holding her because otherwise her knees probably would've buckled.
The dull clanging of the metallic legs echoed off the walls and down into their passageway, tricking them into believing it was closer than it actually was. At least they certainly hoped. Amy was relieved that she didn't hear Thomas' screams, or possibly Alby's, and she eased her mind into trusting that he found somewhere to hide before the monster crossed his path.
Her relief was only fleeting though for the mechanical footsteps were ringing louder in her ears and she realized with horror that the creature had turned down the pathway they'd just ran down and was headed straight for them. There was no way the Griever would miss them; not even the faded, neutral colors of their clothing could conceal them from its unnatural eyesight. Amy had no doubt that they were remarkable hunters, especially at night.
Minho slowly removed his hand from her mouth and she tried to steady her breath as he carefully lifted a foot, quietly stepping further down the passage. He kept a steely grip on her hand, their sweat mixing together and leaving their hands wet and hot, and tugged her along with him. Amy's wide eyes followed the vague movement of their feet on the ground, ever mindful of the soft crackles of their shoes below them and wincing every time a small rock or gravel obstructed their path.
The moon was high and bright and provided just enough light that if Amy squinted she could make out the hazy silhouette of a shadow reflecting off the ground as the monster approached from behind. It was misshapen and grotesque, made of odd angles and not at all symmetrical, and Amy was horrifyingly fascinated by it. Minho had to tug a bit harder on her hand to snap her out of her daze and when she came to, she sincerely hoped the only image of the Griever she'd see tonight would be that shadow.
She collided gently with Minho's shoulder, realizing that he'd come to a stop. She couldn't bring herself to tear her gaze from the shadow that grew larger, reflecting along the mossy wall of the maze and revealing its sheer size, but as Minho began to pull her with him again, she understood that they were turning down another path.
Just before she turned fully, something glinted and sparkled at the end of the passageway. And the second she rounded the corner, out of the thing's sight, she realized it was a leg.
Amy could hardly walk straight as her body shook. It was hard for her to swallow but she forced the saliva back down her throat so she could breathe. The needles in her stomach were unrelenting and she was starting to get a headache.
She idly wondered if it were possible to actually be scared to death.
Minho stopped in his tracks, tilting his head every which way to listen for any signs of the Griever. Amy wasn't much help, unable to hear over the blood pumping in her ears, but when Minho's shoulders relaxed she exhaled a bit.
"What about Thomas?" she whispered. The thick silence that surrounded them weighed heavy in the air and made her voice seem a lot louder than it actually was.
Even though every fiber of her being screamed to stay put, to not go out in the open and try to remain unnoticed, she couldn't bear the thought of abandoning Thomas. Not after he ran in with her, not after the mutual understanding that crossed between them right before signing their lives away to the maze. Her fear was threatening to eat away at her until there was nothing left, but the guilt would finish her off way before that fear ever could.
Minho dug his fingers into her palm, squeezing slightly and leaving indents in the skin from his nails that stung.
"Shut up," he hissed, clenching his jaw. She could still see the slight anger etched into the creases of his face and she figured he would probably continue to resent her for a while for running into the maze after him.
"We can't just leave him," she whisper-snapped, unable to stop herself. "He was willing to come in here for you. Making him go about this place on his own is a pretty poor way to repay him."
Minho turned to face her, eyes narrowed and face scrunched as if he tasted something sour. He looked about ready to hit her again or shake her until some sense rattled loose in her brain but instead he only grabbed her hand tighter.
"Come on," he muttered and together they ran down the far end of the passage, expanding the distance between them and the Griever and Amy was not complaining.
They jogged for a while, every now and then coming up on a crossroads and scurrying down other pathways. Amy trusted Minho's judgment and reassured herself that he knew where he was going. She hoped that his intentions were to find Thomas but even Amy knew how big the maze was. If Thomas had managed to venture deep enough into its chasm, it wasn't likely they'd ever cross his path again.
Amy studied Minho's tactic as they ran, keeping note of every passage he avoided and learned that he was steering clear of the west side. Her only guess was that it housed the sector that had just opened up and they had a better chance of going unnoticed the further they strayed from it.
She lost track of time again. Every so often Minho would slow to a steady pace so they could regain their breath. Her lungs felt like they were on fire, not having exerted so much physical energy at one time. She wasn't out of shape – if anything, she was in better shape now than when she first entered the Glade – but she wasn't a Runner either. Her body had been toned and molded to fit that of a Builder. She wasn't accustomed to all the cardio.
Her tongue and throat were running dry, burning as she breathed heavily, and Minho let her have a sip of what was left in his canteen. They needed all the water they could spare and though she desperately wished to swallow the rest whole, she resisted and allowed him to pocket the canteen again with a few sips to spare.
They rarely spoke. There was the occasional "come on" from Minho after their breaks, fearing to stay in one place for too long. Amy was beginning to feel tired, the day's events wearing her thin. She desperately wished for some kind of noise to keep her from zoning out. Every time they stopped her eyes felt heavy and sore, but even if for some unfathomable reason Minho suggested they sit down and rest, she knew sleep would not come to her. Not in this place.
The moon was vast and illuminating overhead when she finally got her wish.
They'd been running down a long passageway on the south east side somewhere close to the doors when they heard the shriek. It was that familiar, gut-wrenching howl that stopped them in their tracks even when they weren't in the maze.
A Griever.
It was close by and it was not happy.
The metallic thuds of its footfalls were constant. Clearly the thing was running. The whining noises echoed around them, bouncing off the walls and disorienting them as to which direction it was coming from. And then there was a very human scream.
"Thomas," Amy breathed, horror gripping like claws at her throat and threatening to choke the life out of her.
Minho raced forward, following his instincts, and Amy was quick to tail him, ignoring the voice in her head that screamed for her to turn around and run as far away as she could. It was like nails on a chalkboard as the onslaught of shrieks continued, howling and reverberating. The further they ran, the louder it got and soon they reached another crossroads.
Minho made to turn down one of the passages when his body slammed into another. He quickly caught the both of them, keeping them from falling, and Amy skidded to a stop.
Thomas was sweating and dirty, panting, eyes wide with panic. Amy didn't have time to ask if he was okay or throw her arms around him or whatever her brain wanted her to do because the ground trembled beneath her and her eyes caught sight of a sickly large figure at the end of the pathway, stomping with a purpose right towards them with a guttural snarl.
Amy didn't know how to describe it. Half robotic and half organic, the thing clobbered its way between the walls of the maze with spider-like movements. Its legs easily supported its large, bulbous torso and ran with a speed clearly programmed to pursue and destroy its prey.
"GO!" Minho thrust Amy in front of him and pushed her forward, forcing her to run ahead. She blindly reached a hand behind her as she obeyed, feeling sick and terrified, and a hand quickly reached hers and squeezed.
She felt as though she were pulling both Minho and Thomas along as she ran as fast as her tired legs would carry her. The beast had slammed into one of the far walls like thunder but had quickly regained its composure and stormed after them. Its massive footfalls echoed and followed in their wake, catching up to them with ease and taunting them as they ran as if to say, "You cannot outrun me."
Amy screamed, a raw and gravely sound that felt as though it tore blood from her throat. She pressed onward, turning down random corridors, unknowing if the next turn would be their last as the Griever caught up to them. Or they reached a dead end. Minho seemed to sense her worry regarding this as through the hysteria he would occasionally steer her one way or the other by reaching forward and pushing her shoulder in a certain direction, proving that a few times she would have had them cornered.
It was amazing how much the human body could endure and push its own limits. Just when the roar of the Griever seemed a little too close for comfort, she managed to run even faster. It had gotten to the point where she could no longer feel her legs, numb from running so long and so far. Her head was pounding as she tried grasping at the last strands of the oxygen she had left in her lungs.
And what happened next was almost cliché in a way. At least, she felt like it was.
She tripped.
After her legs exceeded their own capacity and beyond, she shouldn't have been surprised that her luck had run dry. One minute she was lightning and the next she was slamming into the earth knee first with a yelp.
The way the vibrations of the ground traveled up her leg and into her gut, she realized that she must have taken some sort of damage. Her knee was probably cut up pretty bad, if it wasn't dislocated, but her mind wasn't able to register any pain. She wasn't sure if that comforted her or not.
Minho yelled, bounding over her out of reflex before quickly turning around and kneeling to hoist her up. Her leg didn't seem to want to cooperate, her foot and ankle tingling as she tried pressing her weight on it.
The Griever roared with delight, quickly gaining on them and seemingly unaffected by the chase, and Amy cried out as Minho wrapped his arms around her and tugged. For a few seconds her mind went blank. It was one thing to hear them roar and gurgle from the safety of the Glade, to hear their snarls echoing in your subconscious as you tried to sleep, or the tremble in your spine when stories of the Grievers were told around a blazing fire.
But it was another thing entirely to see the monster clambering after you, hideous mouth slobbering and watering, and realizing that you were about to be its chew toy.
The sounds and the stories were nothing compared to the feeling of death's breath on your face.
Thomas raced back to them and attempted to help Amy stand but Minho growled at him.
"Keep going!" he shouted, voice straining.
With a yell he hefted her up and placed her back in front of him and they were running again. Amy's leg was a bit more responsive this time and she was able to force the injury to the back of her mind as she picked up speed once more. When Minho thought she was stable enough, he let go of her waist and instead returned his hand to one of hers and they ran side by side.
As Thomas dashed down a different passageway, there was another loud groan. It didn't match the Griever but instead the sound they'd heard earlier. The shifting of concrete, the rumbling of the walls and ground as the maze moved unnaturally, disturbing the air. Thomas paused and Minho and Amy were unable to slow their momentum as they darted past him.
"Come on!" Minho screamed over his shoulder. The walls on either side of them began to close in as the earth below shook and Amy's heart leapt into her throat. She tried glancing over her shoulder and was able to catch Thomas standing at the end of the passageway as if he were waiting for something.
"Thomas!" she yelled hoarsely. She could vaguely hear him shouting something in return, though his eyes weren't facing them but instead the thing that was after them. He waved his arms tauntingly before finally following them through the small pathway.
The Griever took the bait, snarling at Thomas and snapping at his head, so close that Amy was sure the next time she blinked Thomas would be gone. Her and Minho slammed into solid concrete, escaping the ever-closing walls and watching with baited breath as Thomas raced after them, the Griever still hot on his trail and waving it's bulging head about wildly with a fury that settled heavily in the pit of Amy's stomach.
With a cry, Thomas burst through the walls just as they were about to close and the creature tried jumping the length but the walls were unforgiving. They closed as far as they could, trapping the beast within with a sickening crunch and squelch.
Panting harshly, Amy collapsed onto the ground and Minho slid down the wall with her.
Her mind was racing so fast that her thoughts were unable to catch up with it. She realized that she was alive, still breathing, and unreasonably so because the Griever should have gotten them. She also realized how much pain her body was in from all the exertion; how unbelievably tired she was, how sore her lungs were, how much her head throbbed and how sweaty she was.
With hardly any energy left, she slumped against Minho's side and he rested his head on top of hers as they tried to return their breathing to normal. Thomas was leaning against the wall near Minho, eyes wide and disbelieving as he stared at the remnants of the creature, its shimmering silver legs partially sticking through the open slot in the walls.
Amy chanced a brief glance at Minho and upon feeling her eyes on him, he returned her gaze. His skin was glistening with sweat and he pulled her close to him, arm slung around her shoulder and squeezing her. All his anger seemed to be forgotten for now, apparently just thankful they were both alive.
Thomas' voice eventually broke the silence.
"How's your leg?"
Surprised, Amy lifted her leg a bit to get a good look. There was a deep gash along her knee, both wet and dried blood coating the angry red skin that was exposed through the tear in her pants along with tiny pieces of rock and debris. The wound was still unnervingly numb but at the moment she didn't have it in her to care.
"It got tore up good," Minho noted, peering down at it with her. "Hopefully it's not infected."
"I'm glad we're not infected," Amy pointedly said, coughing a bit.
"You're telling me," Thomas muttered. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing a bit.
Whilst Amy and Minho needed to sit down and relax in order to deal with the events that had just taken place, Thomas apparently couldn't stop moving. He was thinking too much, like he couldn't contain his own thoughts. Amy had a feeling she probably didn't want to know what he was thinking about.
"Hey," Minho called, nodding at Thomas. The boy stopped and stared expectantly down at him. "Nice job with the Griever," he tilted his head towards the carcass. "It was smart."
Thomas seemed surprised by Minho's compliment but Minho's expression gave nothing away as he turned to face the opposite wall. Amy smiled a little to herself, glad they seemed to have formed some sort of camaraderie.
Amy's weariness was returning to her. She was reminded of how long it had been since she'd gotten any sleep. The moon was beginning its descent in the night sky and soon it would be painted in shades of pink and gold, welcoming a new dawn. The three of them remained silent but alert, resting their aching joints. Thomas eventually gave in and took a seat as well, leaning his head back against the wall with his fingers tangled in his hair. Minho was absently rubbing soft circles on the exposed skin of her shoulder and as her mind wandered, she became entranced by it.
Her mind kept gravitating back to the chase. The moisture of the Griever's sticky warm breath caressing her neck, the sound of its mechanical legs thumping in harmony with the beat of her heart, its guttural roars resonating in her ears and quaking in her gut. How did a creature like that even exist? Part machine with living tissue. It sounded like something out of a science fiction novel, not that she could ever remember reading one. It defied all the laws of nature. She had a feeling that if technology had advanced into extreme robotics she would know. It would seem natural to her. But something told her things like this didn't exist – shouldn't exist. It baffled her. She was left with even more questions and less answers. It was maddening.
The worst part was she had this strange, ominous feeling that the Grievers were made for the maze. And in essence, made for them.
But that couldn't be possible, right?
Amy didn't know what to believe anymore and that frightened her more than anything.
"We should start heading back," Minho's tired voice startled her out of her thoughts. Amy turned to face him, eyes watering from not blinking in her daze, and he scratched his head before removing his arm from around her shoulders. "You good to stand?"
She wasn't sure but she nodded anyway. Minho took her elbow and helped pull her to her feet and she forced the wince off her face as she applied pressure to her left leg. At least she finally felt something in her knee. She bit her lip, inwardly wishing the numbness would return.
"We're east of the doors," said Minho, brushing off his pants and readjusting his straps. He let Thomas and Amy borrow his canteen and they finished off the water. "Let's go get Alby and then head for the entrance. It should be opening in an hour or so."
Despite how her leg protested at the movement, she jogged alongside them and matched their stride, too wary to linger. The maze hadn't made any sudden noises ever since the incident with the Griever, which Amy assumed meant that it was going back to sleep for another day. But they couldn't afford to take any chances. They'd stayed too long by the Griever's body but rest had been inevitable and no certain amount of time could have prepared them for running through the maze again.
They traveled for the better part of an hour. Amy's mind was hazy from lack of sleep. She wasn't able to focus much on where they went, only that she needed to follow the person in front of her. She had to force back the part of her that wanted to lay down and just cease to exist.
The sky was transitioning from a deep blue to a pale grey as the sun began its peek over the horizon when they approached the clearing near Alby's body. Much to their relief he hadn't been tampered with and continued to hang high above the ground where they'd left him, still unconscious.
"I tied it down here," Thomas kneeled and unfastened the vine from where it'd been wrapped near the base of the wall. Minho and Amy helped steady the vine and slowly they lowered Alby. Amy untied the vine from around his torso and the two boys were quick to throw an arm each over their shoulders and hoist him up.
They led the way. Minho looked as though he would've preferred having Amy in front but seeing as she didn't know the way back to the doors they had to take the lead. Amy didn't feel uncomfortable taking up the rear of the group, but the walls of the maze still set her on edge no matter what time of day it was. It continued to disorient her and though the fact remained that Minho had run through the maze a hundred times over, it still baffled her as to how he knew which way to go. She couldn't make sense of the winding turns and dead ends. Everything looked the same.
"We're close now," Minho announced a few minutes later. "Just a little bit longer."
Amy gritted her teeth. Her knee was really giving her fits. It felt bruised and the gash was irritated and inflamed. She was beginning to realize that if she didn't get it cleaned and checked out soon, something might go wrong.
A droning gear whirring to life startled her out of her thoughts. Her heart rose and she grinned, recognizing the sound immediately.
It was finally registering to her that they did it. They beat the odds.
They survived a night in the maze, something all Gladers had deemed impossible. They weren't dead, torn to pieces or swallowed by a Griever. They weren't trapped somewhere in the maze's endless abyss. They were alive. All of them.
"Just this way, come on!" Minho said breathlessly.
Together, he and Thomas picked up their pace and Amy was quick to follow. She could hear the uplifting tone of his voice and knew he must've been thinking the same thing. They made it.
The grinding of metal grew louder and suddenly they rounded a familiar corner. Their ears were met with little Chuck's shocked laughed and the Gladers quickly surrounded him on all sides, equal expressions of surprise and disbelief etched onto their faces. It looked as though most of them had camped out by the doors overnight, as a few were still scattered about the area and clambering up to join the crowd.
A head of blonde hair caught Amy's eye and her breath caught in her throat. She'd never been so happy to see that lanky boy in her life. His hair was tousled, clothes wrinkled, with his face pale and eyes swollen and blotched. He looked about as good as she felt and she wondered hauntingly if he had gotten any sleep at all that night; if their screams had kept him awake. She'd be surprised if any of them slept again.
"You crazy shucks," a boy laughed disbelievingly as they finally approached the group. Thomas and Minho collapsed on the ground the second they escaped the edge of the maze and Amy had never been so grateful to see grass in all her life.
Newt quickly closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms fiercely around her, pulling her into his chest as he buried his nose in her hair. Amy cried softly, breathing a sigh of relief as she returned the embrace with equal fervor, digging her fingers into the material of his shirt and squeezing, afraid that if she let go he would disappear.
"You're alive," he whispered, quiet and incredulous. As if he wasn't sure if she was really there. "Bloody hell, you're alive," his voice cracked and he held her closer.
Amy felt her eyes well up, vision blurring as she quietly sobbed. She hadn't realized how much she missed him. Never fully comprehended the fact that she surrendered herself into believing she would never see him again. His arms felt like safe houses, holding her and protecting her from all the evils of the world beyond their sanctuary of the Glade.
"Newt," she uttered softly. She tried bringing herself even closer to him, momentarily forgetting that two beings couldn't occupy the same space. As long as she never had to leave his arms again she'd be fine. She'd be okay.
"… the Griever was trapped between the walls… Thomas did it…"
"Dead?"
"Dead."
"Whoa."
Voices came flooding back to Amy's ears and she realized they were talking about the chase. Minho was telling them about how Thomas had lured the beast between the narrowing walls that crushed it. Most seemed impressed by it and hummed their approval. Thomas accepted the praise with modesty. Then someone asked about the state of Alby.
"He got stung didn't he?" Chuck asked sadly. Minho nodded.
"We've gotta take him to Med-Jack," Minho said. Then there was commotion as everyone tried to lend a hand at lifting up their leader. "He hasn't started Changing yet but it's got to be coming soon. We need to be ready when it does."
