'I must be in hell,' was my first thought when my mind finally regained enough self-awareness to realize it could still function. My body ached terribly and was wreaked with pain, enough to make me question whether or not I was alive or dead. I touched one of the painful places with my hand and winced, feeling some sort of oozing liquid coming from the area. Blood.
Groaning, I forced my heavy eyes open. The area would have been totally black if not for the square of sky hovering about three meters above. The first thing I noticed was the lifeless body of a Griever perched right on top of me.
At first, the fact I was lying under a Griever didn't register with my mind. I had to lie there for about two minutes, staring at it, for the information to fully compute. For some reason, I didn't feel any particular fear. Sure I was unnerved that I was right underneath the thing that had spent the previous fifteen minutes trying to kill me, that was understandable. It's just that I seemed to be suffering from a sort of emotional numbness that prevented me from really understanding what was going on. It was probably the near death experience and the fact that I should probably be dead.
Carefully, I removed myself from the slimy mass of flesh that had half-melded to my body in whatever amount of time I had remained in contact with it. It took a lot of effort and each movement was painful, but eventually I got myself into a standing position and used the small amount of light the square above me offered to study my immediate surroundings.
I appeared to be standing in a three meter high stone cylinder. It was damp, and covered in shiny, grimy oil, and it stretched out in front of me for as far as the small amount of light would let me see. I glanced back at the Griever, which lay directly under the square of sky, and began to study it more closely.
It looked even more grotesque up close, with a body that resembled a gigantic slug, sparsely covered in hair and glistening with slime similar to that which covered the walls of the cylinder. It had no head or tail that I could see, but was just over a meter long and a meter thick.
All over the Griever's body, sharp metal spikes poked through its flesh, all varying in size. Several mechanical arms stuck out here and there, each apparently serving a different purpose. Some had a couple of half broken, barely flickering lights attached to them. Others had long, scary looking needles and another had a three-fingered claw that was covered in blood. 'That's mine,' I thought, remembering my wounds. I glanced down at them worriedly, but I didn't feel particularly light headed yet so I guess I was alright. They didn't feel like they were bleeding profusely and I'd probably last a few more hours before things could get serious. Hopefully I'd have time to return to the Glade before the sun set.
However, I had more important things to do. Since the Griever was with me, I must have never left the Maze. Minho never mentioned a place like this, so it must be an unsearched area. If it could serve as a way out, I needed to discover everything I could about it before returning.
I searched my most recent memories as I turned away from the Griever to explore the darkness of the tunnel before me. The last thing I remembered was falling off the Cliff and grabbing on to the Griever… I looked down at my hand and clasped tightly in my fist was what appeared to be a handle, the kind you'd see on a switch. 'I must've broken it off by accident,' I thought, studying it for a moment before tossing it away. I had no idea what happened to us, but I guess I'd eventually figure it out if I explored the tunnel.
Feeling along the stone wall with my hands, I hobbled blindly into the darkness. Eventually, I hit the end of the tunnel. My path was blocked by another stone wall. I explored it with my hands, feeling for any sort of door. After a few minutes of searching, my fingers brushed against what felt like glass and a dim green light flickered on from a small square of grimy glass that seemed to be a screen. With this light, I noticed a keyboard beneath it, set into the wall and angled out enough for someone to type on it with ease. Further below the keyboard, a few inches above the floor, a small red button was set into the wall. Several words flickered through my mind at the sight of the keyboard, though, the most frequent being 'password'.
"I need to enter a code," I muttered and cracked my knuckled. "It's time to play the guessing game."
I tapped away at the keyboard, thinking of every possible password it might be. Eventually, I gave up on guessing the password and instead began to test my limits. I quickly discovered several things. First, the computer would only accept letters, not numbers or symbols. Second, the computer accepted a total of five letters at a time. After entering five letters, the previously typed letters would disappear. After typing five sets of five letters the computer wouldn't allow me to type any more letters. At first, this made me confused and I wondered if I broke it. Then I tried pressing the button. Nothing happened, but I was allowed to type letters into the computer again.
'Five sets of five letters,' I thought as I finally drew myself from the computer, satisfied that I'd gathered everything I could. 'That's the code we need to find, with that we can escape.' Excitement was building in my heart now, I might have just discovered more in twenty minutes than any Glader had in a year…well maybe not but it was still a pretty good achievement.
Deciding it was time to tend to my wounds; I ripped strips of clothing from my sleeves and wrapped them tightly around the more serious injuries on my arms and legs, applying as much pressure to them as I could. I tried to ignore the stabbing pain in my back from where the Griever had cut me, it seemed to be my most serious wound from the amount of pain I felt from it, but it was in an area that I couldn't reach and I'd just have to hope it wasn't deadly. I glanced at the Griever's dead body and grinned, despite the chill it sent through my body. "Thanks for trying to kill me," I said quietly. "Otherwise I'd never be here." I looked up at the square, then back down at the Griever. "I'm not sorry about this next bit, just saying." I picked up my bag, which had been lying pitifully to one side looking tattered and beaten, and slung it over my shoulders, careful of my back injury. Then I took a step towards the source of both my fear and my anger.
Gripping the creature's motionless limbs, I hoisted myself up onto its body, gaining as much height as I could. Then, using its body as a really big stool, I took a steady breath and pushed myself through the square hole. I immediately regretted this decision and knew I probably should have only poked my head through first to get a good look at what lay on the other side, but what was done was done and now I was going to deal with the consequences.
The consequences were terror and slamming into the side of the Cliff in a very painful manner that probably only made my injuries worse. I yelled out in pain and grabbed wildly for anything to hold on to. My feet dug into the Cliff wall desperately and my fingers dug into dirt and stone slabs. Using all the strength I could muster, I dragged myself up and over the edge and flopped onto my belly in a heaving mess of pain-filled sobs and gasps.
It took me the better part of three minutes to regain my bearings. I looked about myself and realized I was exactly where I had been standing earlier with Gally when we'd faced the two Grievers, except Gally and the other Griever were gone.
Morbid thoughts swarmed my mind, threatening to pull me into despair, but I pushed them all away. "I need to get back to the Glade," I wheezed, crawling to my feet. Somehow, the jump from the square hole to the Cliff had winded me and I had no energy left. I reached into my bag and, to my greatest pleasure, found a single, beaten apple that had been able to survive the fall. The main contents of my bag had been lost, scattered through the skies and off the Cliff most likely. Either that or it was still inside the strange tunnel. I turned to get a better look at where I'd come from, but the sky lay as open and empty before me as usual.
"What on earth," I murmured, amazed. "Is it invisible or something?" I threw a couple of rocks near where I thought I'd come from, but none of them hit their mark. My mind returned briefly to the time Minho told me about the other Glader's theory about how certain things disappeared and suddenly the joke about a magical Griever portal seemed more real in my mind than ever before. "I definitely need to bring Minho back here and we need to find out what that code is," I vowed, taking a bite out of my apple and turning away from the Cliff. I discarded my bag at the base of the Maze wall, taking only a surviving bottle of water with me. It would only be dead weight and an extra pain on my back.
I glanced at my watch and felt my blood turn cold at the sight of what the time was. I'd have to run at full speed if I wanted to make it back to the Glade before the doors shut. I devoured my apple hastily and took a swig of my water, gathering my energy. Then I ran.
Pain coursed through my body at an alarming rate as I ran and I had to grind my teeth to keep from yelling in agony. The rags I'd used as hasty bandages quickly became soaked with blood and after fifteen minutes I began to hear a steady dripping sound, undoubtedly blood from my back falling onto the stone behind me and leaving a trail of blood.
An hour passed and I finally reached Section Six. If I had been at full strength, I'd have probably been back at the Glade by now, safe and laughing with Newt and the others over a terrible joke made by Callum. Instead, my injuries were forcing me down to a slow jog-like stagger that made me look more and more like a wounded dog by the second. I soon began to feel light headed and my heart rate quickened in fear. I stopped myself and leaned against the wall, trying hard to keep my legs steady. I drank the last of my water, savoring the small gasp of energy it gave me, and carefully began removing the rags covering my wounds. They looked terrible, that's all the detail I care to give. The Griever had not been careful with its aim and the marks it left would surely scar.
I wrung each rag clear of blood, creating puddles that splashed with each new rag I squeezed. After getting them as clean as possible and replacing particularly terrible pieces of cloth with new ones, I began to re-bandage my injuries. This time, I ignored my smaller injuries which had already stopped bleeding and focused on the ones that were bleeding most, applying so much pressure it hurt and would probably stop blood circulation to several parts of my body. I didn't really care; I just wanted to make it back to the Glade without collapsing and dying from blood loss.
I only had a short amount of time left before the doors would close. I'd have to be even faster. Using every ounce of strength I had left, every fiber of my being, I propelled myself off the wall and once again staggered through the Maze. The bleeding was miraculously less than before and my head cleared briefly, enough to last me two thirds of the way to the Glade. Then, with only a few corridors left to go, I collapsed.
It had become too much for me.
I was done.
Death was the only thing left for me.
I wouldn't be able to keep Newt's promise.
I'd never see my friends again.
I couldn't tell the others about the exit.
I gave up hope and waited to die.
Then I heard footsteps.
Two sets of them, running in my direction.
I couldn't decipher whose footsteps they were, my mind was already too unfocused to tell, but I could take a pretty good guess.
I lifted my head ever so slightly, just enough to see the end of the corridor ahead.
After mere seconds, Newt and Minho rounded the corner.
They'd come for me.
"Claire!" Newt yelled in horror and sprinted even faster to reach my side. He looked like he wanted to reach out and hug me, but his hands hesitated and his expression twisted at the sight of me. "Oh God…"
"We need to get her back to the Glade," Minho stated shortly, crouching on the other side of me, "NOW."
I didn't hear Newt's reply, but definitely felt a lot of pain as they lifted me and carried me awkwardly down the corridor. The constant jostling and movement made the pain in my back almost unbearable and I was unable to hold back the tears that streaked down my face. I chewed on the neck of my shirt, doing all I could to keep my agony silent. I needed to. I kept my eyes open, trying hard to keep focused. I could only see the sky from the position I was in. It was steadily darkening as evening set in. It would only be a matter of time before the doors closed.
"Leave…me….." I managed to squeeze out, though my words were barely audible.
"Don't you dare start talking that klunk," Newt snapped from somewhere. He sounded angry at my proposal and I couldn't blame him. "Keep quiet and save your energy, you're gonna need it."
I complied and remained silent for the rest of the journey, instead focusing on keeping my breathing steady. It had become a difficult task and each breath felt like an individual stab to my lungs. It made me want to stop breathing, but I knew I had to live. Unfortunately, my ability to focus was waning and something that felt like a cloud of fog was slowly filling my mind, blocking my ability to think. My vision began to grow dark and I thought I heard other people's voices join Newt and Minho's just as my consciousness faded completely.
