Complete silence filled the room, as if the world had been frozen. Every member of the council stared at Minho. Thomas sat stunned, waiting for the Runner to say he'd been kidding.
Gally finally stood up thawing everything out. "That some bullshit!" He faced Newt and pointed back at Minho who had taken his seat again. "He should be kicked off the council for saying something so stupid." However, some Keepers seemed to actually agree with Minho's suggestion—like Frypan, who clapped to drown out Gally, clamoring to take a vote. Other didn't. Winston shook his head adamantly, saying something that Thomas couldn't quite make out. When everyone started talking at once, Thomas put his head in his hands to wait it out, terrified and awed at the same time. Minho has to be joking, Thomas thought. According to Newt it takes forever just to become a Runner let alone the Keeper.
Finally Newt put his pad down and stepped out from the semicircle, screaming at people to shut up. Thomas simply watched them, continuing to fight with silence. At first no one seemed to here or notice Newt at all. But, gradually, order was restored and everyone sat down.
"Bloody hell! I've never seen many shanks acting wee babies! We are adults around here and we will act like it." He walked from end to end of the curved row of sitting Keepers looking at each of them as he spoke. "Are we clear?"
Silence swept across them once more. Thomas expected more outburst, but was surprised when everyone nodded their consent. "Good that." Newt took his seat, putting his pad in his lap. He scratched out a few lines then looked a Minho. "That's some pretty serious klunk. You're have to talk that up."
Thomas was eager to hear the response.
Minho looked irritated, but started defending himself. "Look. I'm the only Runner in this group and the only other person who's even been in the Maze is Newt.
Gally interrupted. "Not if you count—"
"I don't," Minho sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You don't know what it's like to be out there. The only reason you got stung is because you broke the same rule you're blaming Thomas for. That's called hypocrisy." Galley scowled, wrinkling up that disgusting nose. "Anyway. I've never seen anything like it. He didn't panic out there. He didn't wine and cry. He never even seemed scared."
"Think about how we all were when we first showed up, huddled in corners not trusting anybody. Two days—two days after this guy gets here, he steps out into the Maze to save two guys he hardly knows. Plenty of people told him, even showed him what it was like out there and still he went, only caring that two people needed help." He took a deep breath, seeming to blow some of his irritation away with the exhale. He paused as if thinking about where he wanted to go with his monologue. But Newt interrupted.
"Okay. I think you made your point. I'm writing it down," he said scratching away at his notepad. Gally looked murderous. He jumped to his feet.
"You're only agreeing with Minho and defending Thomas because you're fucking him." There were multiple sharp inhales then a hush crossed the room. You could've heard a pin drop. That blow hurt. Even though he and Newt hadn't made it that far, Thomas knew that everyone was thinking that. He knew everyone presumed Newt would show favoritism because he and Thomas were together romantically. Newt looked furious.
"Get out," he said. His voice was so small it was almost a whisper.
"No!" Gally argued on, fuming. "I'm just saying what everyone else is afraid to. Thomas just got lucky!"
"No!" Minho argued, speaking up again. "What just you said was way out of line! And he didn't get lucky! I've been here over three years and I've never seen anything like that. You're nothing but a sissy who has never, not once, asked to be a Runner, or even tried out for it. You don't have the right to talk about things you don't understand. Just shut up!" Gally looked ready to pop. He stepped up to Minho putting his finger in Minho's face.
"Say one more thing like that and I'll break your fucking neck," he growled through clenched teeth. "Right here in front of everybody." Minho scowled and shoved Gally in the face. Thomas watched the Glader crashed down into his chair tipping it backwards and cracking it into pieces. Newt and Winston were instantly on their feet holding Minho back as Galley scrambled to his feet, though he made no move toward Minho. He simply stood there with his chest out heaving breaths.
"Don't ever threaten me again," Minho growled back.
"Just get out Gally!" Newt screamed, clearly still furious from Gally's earlier statement. Finally Gally back away, stumbling toward the exit, furious, eyes burning with hatred. Thomas has the sickening thought that Galley looked like someone about to commit murder. He stopped at the door, glaring at Thomas through squinted eyes. He spoke with quiet determination. "You are an embarrassing leader, he told Newt. Then he spoke to the room at whole. Anyone who stays here and follows him is a fool." This time he spoke directly to Thomas.
"And you. Whatever you came here for, I swear on my life I am going to stop it. I will kill you if I have to. Things are going to change." And with that, he turned and slammed the door behind him.
Thomas sat frozen in his chair, a sickness growing in his stomach like an infestation. He'd been through the whole gamut of emotions since he'd arrived in the Glade. Fear, lust, love, sadness, even joy. But this was something completely new—to hear a person say they hate you so much they want to kill you.
It's official, Thomas thought. Gally's crazy. He's completely insane. But that thought only increased his worries. Insane people could be capable of anything.
The council members stood, or sat in silence, seemingly as shocked as Thomas at what they'd just seen. Newt and Winston finally let go of Minho. All three of them sullenly walked to their chairs and sat down. "He's finally whacked for good," Minho sighed.
"Well you're not the saint in the room! Bloody hell! What were you thinking?" Minho squinched up his eyes and cocked his head back, as if he were baffled by Newt's question.
"The fuck? He threaten to break my neck. And kill Thomas! Ben had an excuse. This guy's just crazy! He is mentally whacked and you'd better send someone right now to throw his ass in the Slammer."
And that did it.
"May I say something now?" Thomas asked, his frustration raising the level of his voice. "I'm tired of you guys talking about me like I'm not here."
"Go ahead," Newt said, with a light wave us his arm. "This meeting can't be any more fucked up."
Thomas quickly gathered his scattered thought, clutching around in his disoriented brain. "I don't know what I did wrong. I simply saw two guys struggling to get back in here. To not help them because of some rule seemed, well… stupid."
Newt sighed. "Here what I think. You broke the Number One Commandment. For that you get another day in the Slammer. I also suggest we elect you a Runner, effective immediately. You proved more in one night than most trainees do in weeks. But as for Keeper," Newt glared at Minho, "Gally was right, that's bloody ridiculous."
The comment hurt Thomas's feelings, especially coming from Newt, even though it true. He looked to Minho for his reaction. He didn't look surprised, but he argued all the same.
"Why? He's the best have—I swear it. The best should be Keeper."
"Fine," Newt responded. "If that's true, we'll make the change later. Let's give it a month and see how this pans out." Minho shrugged in agreement. Thomas quietly sighed in relief. He was elated. He still wanted to be Runner—despite what he'd just gone through in the Maze—but becoming a Runner right away did seem a little ridiculous.
Thomas watched and listened as everyone chimed in their approval, filling Thomas with relief and a sense of pride.
Winston was the only one to say no.
"You're outnumbered so we don't need your approval but what's eating at you?" Newt asked him.
His eyes darted between everyone before he explained. "Well… Gally has been through the Changing. That means he has memories. He's says Thomas looks familiar. Why would he lie? I just think we shouldn't totally ignore what Gally said. I don't think he would make it all up. Sorry, Thomas."
"Fair enough." Newt turned back to Thomas. "Tomorrow. Sunrise to sunset. Slammer. After that you begin Runner Training."
And with that, it sank in. Thomas was going to be a Runner. The meeting was dismissed and everyone but Newt and Minho exited the room in a hurry. Minho walked over and punched Thomas's arm. Thomas punched him back. "Keeper? You want me to be Keeper?"
Minho faked and evil grin. "It worked didn't it? Aim high, hit low. Thank me later."
Newt looked up from where he'd been jotting on the notepad. "You clever bastard," he said with a smile. A knock on the door snatched all of their attentions. Chuck stood in the doorway looking as if he'd just been chased by a Griever. Thomas felt the grin slip from his face.
"What's wrong," Newt asked, rising from his seat, stepping over to the homestead door.
"The Med-Jacks sent me. Alby thrashing around acting crazy. He keeps saying that he needs to talk to someone." Chuck looked directly at Thomas. "He keeps asking for him."