Hello there fellow Gladers, new chapter for you all. Hope you like it, sorry it's a bit short.

Comments appreciated! Each one brightens up my day, I get excited when the email comes through!

See ya next time,

queenofthetear x

Chapter Twenty-Two

There are no secrets that time does not reveal. ~ Jean Racine

Forty-five minutes passed since Rory had last spoken. The continual crackling echoing through the corridor died down not too long ago, leaving a silence where the wind whistled through. I strained to hear the dreaded moaning or whirring drifting around the corners. Silence. It was as if everything ceased to exist when the sun came up, the life in the Maze crawling back to their holes for the day, waiting to catch the next lot of poor unfortunate souls that found themselves stranded here in the night. Which would have been me if I didn't get a move on.

Long enough had passed on waiting for these people to turn up, every second I wasted sitting in this spot was a second longer I would be spending another in the Maze – another I knew I wouldn't survive. Tracing my hands up the side of the wall, I could feel the rough surface of it. Not a bloody ivy vine in reaching distance. Bloody useless. Bloody useless vines. I hate shuffling, it hurts.

After several moments of grunting, pulling and some rock climbing, I eventually able to stand on one foot, leaning against the wall. There were no vines close enough for me to reach, not for a good few metres both sides. It was like the plants had retracted back from themselves and created a barrier between me and themselves. Very strange, very strange indeed.

Standing on one foot, I debated which way was the best to get back to the Glade, to my bed. Left or right. Right or left. It was down to a flip of a coin.

"Which way is it?" I growled in frustration, glancing around for a screen to appear again. I didn't want to choose, I didn't want to pick wrong and end up spending another night in the Maze. For once, I wanted someone else decide what I did, let them chose my fate for me.

"Fine then," I grumbled to no one in particular, and made my decision.

Left it would because I said so and it would lead to the Glade. Tracing my hands across the bare, rough wall, I shuffled along the wall, lifting my bad leg in the air. The continuous motion of hopping to the nearest vines brought back a dull throbbing pain. Little movements of any kind seemed to strengthen the sting, bringing back the intense torture that I had briefly forgotten. The ankle and I didn't have a very good relationship. Okay, blaming the ankle maybe an overstatement. My legs are a bloody nuisance. When I get out of this Maze, and I will, I am demanding new legs. If WICKED can erase memories and build repulsive creatures, then what is to say that they can replace my legs with better ones that actually do what their supposed to do – not fucking break.

I paused for a second, catching my breath as I leant against the wall. It was hard work trying to move across the wall with nothing to help. The vines were close, but not close enough. I needed them now before I collapsed from exhaustion. I let a hiss escape then carried on with my task.

Faster, I had to move faster. No way was I going to spend another night in the Maze. But, the more I tried quicken my pace, the further away the Glade seemed to be – where everything that felt familiar lay.

Well then, travel faster if you want to get back to familiar, my mind told me. Oh why is my mind so patronising? I'll request a new one as well.

I sucked a large gulp of air, brushing my hair out of my face and took to shuffling again across the wall.

I'm gonna make it, gonna make it, circled through my head.

I crawled along the wall as far as I could before I decided to stretch out one of my arms. My fingertips brushed the closest vines, not being able to fully grasp it. A tiny bit closer and I would be able to clasp it. I readjusted my body, so that I could slowly move closer to the vines. It took me a few attempts, but eventually my hand caught onto the green shrubbery.

Next came the difficult part, pulling myself along without hurting my bad leg and possibly trying to fall over. Inch by inch, I dragged myself to new vines, using the little strength that I had. Finally, I made it after what seemed like forever.

I was tired beyond believe, every part of my body shook from the exhaustion, my muscles fatigued. When I got back, I could sleep the rest of the week away, or month, or year.

"Clarke!" a voice shouted behind me. I twisted my head to see down the end of the corridor, seeing two figures looking like they had been dragged through hell and back. My eyes were failing me, everything blurring into one that I couldn't quite identify the one who called my name. But, I recognised the voice, the annoying sound … of … Greenie.

"Thomas?" I called back, hoping that I had guessed right. Instead of replying, both figures seemed to sprint in my direction. Hallucinations were the one thing I didn't need right now; two figures running towards me but never making it. They would just keep on running until I realised that they weren't real in the first place. I turned my head away and waited for the shouts to disappear.

A tremor erupted through my arms, sending my muscles into a spasm. It became difficult to hold on to the vine, so I slipped, crashing into the wall. I grunted in pain, my arms straining under the weight of holding up my body. I tried to grip the vine tighter, cursing Thomas and the other for not hurrying up, but they only slipped further.

The pain needed to end, the full force of it again returning, spiking hot rods electrifying my nerve endings. Oh, I wish I wasn't so helpless. I could have found them quicker and not been near death. Unable to bear the pain much longer, I let the vine go and crashed to the ground, my ankle masking the pain of the concrete ground colliding with my body.

"Greenie, help me get her up," Minho ordered as he and Thomas grabbed my shoulder, hoisted me from the floor into a sitting position against the wall. I gritted my teeth the whole time, hissing in pain with each small movement. "What happened 'ere, Clarke? Actually, why are you 'ere, and what the shuckin' hell is wrong with ya leg?"

"Fell … great height … avoiding Griever." I pointed to the sky. "Chased me … me up … wall. Tried gettin' … away. Fell … so far. And broke it." I tapped the vines lightly, a weak smile on my face.

"Broke what, your leg?"

"No." I shook my head furiously. "My ankle."

"And, somehow you've wrapped it up?" Minho asked, puzzlement clearly written across his face.

"Yep," I said. "Why … is that … hard to believe?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno, maybe the reason that there isn't anything to fix it with. What you use for supports?"

"Thin metal spikes."

"Where are those spikes from?" Minho pushed, his arms crossed around his chest.

"A Griever," I mumbled.

"A, what?"

"Griever." I said through gritted teeth.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"And what? It just gave them to you?"

"No!" I snapped.

"Then, what?" Minho retorted, his voice increasing.

I paused for a second, contemplating the answer that I should give him while not exposing the whole truth. Just after Rory went silent on the line, a small phrase was uttered down it, just audible for my ears alone to hear. Tell the others about this, and you'll never leave this Maze alive. The small, but powerful, threat scared me to the bones, and I intended to keep that promise, for all of our sakes.

"I'm not sure," I said bluntly. "It all just seems blank. I don't even think I was awake."

"So, what you are saying is that the Griever was just magically dead when you unblanked. It didn't touch you nor try to kill you."

"Dead." I narrowed my eyes. "Why is that so hard to believe?"

Minho scoffed and threw his hands up into the air. He didn't reply.

"Is it because I'm a girl?" I pushed, my voice now rising. "You know, I can do whatever you can do, and do it ten times better. So, whatever did happen, the Griever died and I didn't."

There was no response from either boys. Gotcha.

"Fine, it died," Minho finally said. "One thing is botherin' me, though. Why on earth are you in the Maze?"

"Thought I do a little sight-seeing," I joked. Wrong idea.

"Try again?"

"Dragged in." I carefully said, testing what truths I could use. Nothing happened as I uttered the words, so being pulled in was a viable option.

"Why?"

"Don't know."

"You're lying. I can see it."

"Am not!"

"You are!"

"Guys!" Thomas shouted, causing the argument cease to exist. I looked up to Thomas, who stood further away from us, seeing his bloodshot eyes and tear stains that marked his face. Minho joined him in that aspect (even with the tears, but they were more faint and harder to see). Whatever happened to them mustn't been a pleasant business. "We're wasting time. We need to get out of here now if we want to get back to the Glade."

"I don't say this often, but Greenie … sorry … I mean, Thomas you're right. And with this lump it may slow us down." Minho said as he rose from his kneeling position, running his hand through his hair. "Can you walk in any way?"

"No," I softly replied.

"So, how have you been moving round the Maze?"

"Grabbing vines and shuffling. It's harder than it looks."

"My, my. And I thought couldn't get any harder in ways to survive the night here in the Maze." Minho muttered to himself, gazing up to the now light blue sky. "Thomas, we're going to have to carry her. You strong enough yet?"

"Yeah, I can do it."

"Good that." Minho nodded. "We're gonna have to pick her up gently. Right, give me your arm, and the other to Thomas." I stretched out my arms to Minho and Thomas. They both grabbed them and hooked them over their heads. "Now, Tom, be careful. We don't want to cause any more damage than there already is."

Slowly and gently, Minho and Thomas lifted me from the ground, trying as hard as possible not to cause any pain. I yelped a few times from the pressure placed onto my bad leg. They apologised at the speed of light, easing off and carried on with helping me up. It didn't take long until I was fully standing again on two feet, this time with people to support me. It felt better to be able to relieve the pain, not so much relying on others.

"We're up, and would you look at that, you weren't as heavy as I thought," Minho laughed beside me, wheezing slightly as he adjusted my weight onto his. Thomas eyed Minho, copying his exact movements, adjusting himself to spread the weight between both of them. "Alright there, Thomas?"

"Yeah, ready to go," Thomas replied enthusiastically.

"Okay you two," Minho started with a stern voice. "We ain't that far away from the Glade. Luckily, we are closer than we think. But we're gonna to have to work as a team to get there. Got that. Means no stopping until we cross the doors."

"Good that," I mumbled as the three of us took our steps back towards familiarity.