Thomas couldn't believe what they were supposed to get through. Newt shouted something and a path was made through the crowd of Gladers.

The enormity of the situation suddenly hit him, they had to get through the Grievers, punch in the code, and hopefully stop the monsters before too many Gladers died. Aris and Rachel had promised to act as physical bodyguards, and Thomas found himself both loving and hating them for it.

"Ready!" Minho yelled, pulling Thomas from his thoughts. "Now!" The boy ran forward, weapon raised, followed by other Gladers, boys and girls running at the monsters.

Thomas held Teresa's hand as he watched them pass, heard the sounds of metal against metal and Grievers whirring, a few screams of pain already.

Chuck ran past, Thomas reached out and grabbed his arm, he couldn't see Flo anywhere and there was little he could do about it, despite the pang in his chest.

"You're with us. Hold Teresa's other hand. Let's go." Thomas instructed, he hoped that enough Grievers were distracted by the mass of Gladers that they would not be a main target.

A narrow aisle was forming in the middle of the corridor, Thomas tried hard not to look at the Gladers faces, see who was ready to sacrifice themselves.

"Now!" Thomas shouted.

He sprinted ahead, pulling Teresa behind him, Teresa pulling Chuck behind her, running at full speed, spears and knives cocked for battle, forward into the bloody, scream-filled hallway of stone. Toward the Cliff.

War raged around them. Gladers fought, panic-induced adrenaline driving them on. The sounds echoing off the walls were a cacophony of terror—human screams, metal clashing against metal, motors roaring, the haunted shrieks of the Grievers, saws spinning, claws clasping, yells for help. All was a blur, bloody and gray and flashes of steel; Thomas tried not to look left or right, only ahead, through the narrow gap formed by the Gladers.

Thomas didn't dare to look back to see if Rachel and Aris were behind them, but straining his ears he thought he could hear their shoes slap the stone.

We're here, keep going. Rachel said in his mind, perhaps having somehow sensed his concern.

Something stabbed Thomas's leg, Teresa shrieking in surprised pain at the same moment, they kept running, it was all they could really do.

It was only about 150 metres to the Cliff, but they felt like an eternity. Thomas was so focused on running that he barely stopped in time to avoid an endless fall, arms pulling him back.

Don't fall now, or I will kill you in the afterlife. Rachel warned, Thomas had long ago realised that these threats were almost a sign of affection from her.

The ivy ropes marked the Griever Hole clearly, they had to jump, Thomas hesitated for a moment.

No time to waste, it's a massacre back there. Aris told him glancing over his shoulder, turning back with a look of terror.

"Okay, Teresa first." Thomas looked at her, her expression was one of grim determination.

To his surprise, she didn't hesitate. After squeezing Thomas's hand, then Chuck's shoulder, she leaped off the edge, immediately stiffening her legs, with her arms by her sides. Thomas held his breath until she slipped into the spot between the cut-off ivy ropes and disappeared. It looked as if she'd been erased from existence with one quick swipe.

"Whoa!" Chuck yelled, the slightest hint of his old self breaking through.
"Whoa is right," Thomas said. "You're next."
Before the boy could argue, Thomas grabbed him under his arms, squeezed Chuck's torso. "Push off with your legs and I'll give you a lift. Ready? One, two, three!" He grunted with effort, heaved him over toward the Hole.

Chuck screamed as he flew through the air, and he almost missed the target, but his feet went through; then his stomach and arms slammed against the sides of the invisible hole before he disappeared inside. The boy's bravery solidified something in Thomas's heart. He loved the kid. He loved him as if they had the same mom.

"Get going." Rachel pushed Thomas gently. "We're right behind you."

Thomas tightened the straps on his backpack, held his makeshift fighting spear tightly in his right fist. The sounds behind him were awful, horrible—he felt guilty for not helping. Just do your part, he told himself.

Steeling his nerves, he tapped his spear against the stone ground, then planted his left foot on the very edge of the Cliff and jumped, catapulting up and into the twilight air. He pulled the spear close to his torso, pointed his toes downward, stiffened his body.

Then he hit the Hole.

A line of icy cold shot across Thomas's skin as he entered the Griever Hole, starting from his toes and continuing up his whole body, as if he'd jumped through a flat plane of freezing water. The world went even darker around him as his feet thumped to a landing on a slippery surface, then shot out from under him; he fell backward into Teresa's arms. She and Chuck helped him stand. It was a miracle Thomas hadn't stabbed someone's eye out with his spear.

The Griever Hole would've been pitch-black if not for the beam of Teresa's flashlight cutting through the darkness. As Thomas got his bearings, he realized they were standing in a ten-foot-high stone cylinder. It was damp, and covered in shiny, grimy oil, and it stretched out in front of them for dozens of yards before it faded into darkness. Thomas peered up at the Hole through which they'd come—it looked like a square window into a deep, starless space.

They quickly cleared away from directly underneath the Hole, it was a second or two before Rachel fell through, appearing like a supernatural apparition. Thomas moved to catch her but she hardly needed it, was back on her feet much quicker than he had been.

A few more seconds and Aris fell through the ceiling of the strange chamber, nowhere near as put together as Rachel had been. Thomas felt relieved for a moment. They were all safe, but it wasn't yet over.

"The computer's over there." Teresa pointed her flashlight at a square of grimy glass set above a keyboard, their escape on a silver platter, not that it had been easy.

Rachel and Aris had already positioned themselves to guard the Hole, fight off any Grievers that fell through.

Teresa stepped up to the keyboard and started typing, her fingers flew across it, likely muscle memory. Thomas made to stand next to her, glancing over her at the screen. Chuck was nearby, clutching his spear tightly.

A loud bang from above and behind them cut her off, made Thomas jump. He spun around to see a Griever plop through the Griever Hole. The thing had retracted its spikes and arms to enter—when it landed with a squishy thump, a dozen sharp and nasty objects popped back out, looking deadlier than ever.

Aris and Rachel had sprang away as the creature entered, but were now converging upon it, stabbing their weapons into its moist flesh, holding it off.

Thomas moved to help them but was stopped by Rachel's telepathic voice. You stay there, we've got this.

As she spoke she stabbed her spear hard into its moist flesh, at the same time a clawed arm reached for the shaft, to snap it, but the force of Rachel's attack caused the whole arm to be ripped from its socket, crashing to the floor.

See. Thomas could imagine her smile.

The Griever let out a long, piercing shriek, an awful sound.

Looks like we can beat these things. Aris had moved to stand with Rachel, the two of them having broken another appendage from the monster's body.

It won't let me enter the last word! Teresa regained Thomas's attention, he turned to see her frantically typing 'push' over and over, but it would not appear on the screen as the other five words had done.

It's dead. Rachel announced grimly, Thomas didn't dare to look what they meant, he just prayed another didn't get through.

Two more, what's keeping you? Aris demanded, Thomas heard the whirrs of Grievers, far too close for comfort.

"Maybe you should just push that button," Chuck said.

Thomas was so surprised by the random statement that he turned away from the Grievers, looked at the boy. Chuck was pointing at a spot near the floor, right underneath the screen and keyboard.

Three black letters were printed above it: Kill the Maze. Somehow Thomas was reminded of the words sprayed above Teresa and Aris's heads in the Box, a lifetime ago.

Teresa didn't hesitate, pushing the button with unnecessary strength, the sounds of the Grievers stopped instantly. Another, impossible sound: a door opening.

Thomas turned and saw that the attacking Grievers had shut down completely, lights off, appendages withdrawn, the distant sounds of battle absent.

Aris and Rachel were stood, panting, still clutching their weapons, the Griever they had killed lay in a pool of yellow liquid, it looked almost like fuel.

They had done it, killed the maze.

Chuck had scooted away from the Grievers, bumping into Teresa—she held him tightly, squeezing him in a fierce hug.

"You did it, Chuck," Teresa said. "We were so worried about the stupid code words, we didn't think to look around for something to push—the last word, the last piece of the puzzle."

Thomas laughed again, in disbelief that such a thing could be possible so soon after what they'd gone through. "She's right, Chuck—you saved us, man! I knew we needed you!" Thomas scrambled to his feet and joined the other two in a group hug, almost delirious. "Chuck's a shucking hero!"

Thomas turned, embraced Rachel, then Aris, the two of them hugged each other. Thomas felt nothing in that moment but pure joy.

"What about the others?" Teresa said with a nod toward the Griever Hole. Thomas felt his elation wither, and he stepped back and turned toward the Hole.

As if in answer to her question, someone fell through the black square—it was Minho, looking as if he'd been scratched or stabbed on ninety percent of his body.
"Minho!" Thomas shouted, filled with relief. "Are you okay? What about everybody else?"

Minho stumbled toward the curved wall of the tunnel, then leaned there, gulping big breaths. "We lost a ton of people…. It's a mess of blood up there … then they all just shut down." He paused, taking in a really deep breath and letting it go in a rush of air. "You did it. I can't believe it actually worked."

More Gladers started to fall through the Hole, those at the bottom catching them, shouts of victory filled the air, friends hugging each other.

Thomas looked around, there were about twenty boys left, and thirty girls. Some he recognised; Newt, Sonya, Harriet, but others were still unknown to him.

They were all covered in Griever sludge and human blood, minor wounds and clothes torn.

Only half of the Gladers that had ran at the Grievers had come through the Hole, the rest had to be dead.

"You know what?" Minho said, standing up a little taller. "Half might've died, but half of us shucking lived. And nobody got stung—just like Thomas thought. We've gotta get out of here."

"That we do." Thomas had no idea how Harriet was still standing, deep cuts covered her body, some of the worst he had seen.

Rachel pointed down the long tunnel and the group slowly started to make their way down, no one knew what came next, but in that moment Thomas was hopeful.