ACT I SCENE XXXV
HERMIONE

CASSANDRA STARTED, not realising that she had fallen asleep. They were still in the Maze. She didn't know how long she had been out for but the light had gotten brighter; shining like a large lamp high above them. Minho was crouched in front of her and she felt his hand on her shoulder. He smirked, eyes darting around her face.

"Nice haircut."

She reached up and ran her fingers through her locks, coming up short. Grasping the ends in her hand, she looked down and found her long hair was gone. She stared with wide horrified eyes as she remembered what happened to it.

"Holy crap."

Minho snickered again at her reaction, then helped her up to stand and she swept her gaze around them.

The Cliff looked like an endless fall into an abyss from where they were perched. Thomas was asking Minho questions about it, his usual inquisitive self intact from the terrors of the night before. Although it'd been dark, they had definitely seen the Grievers disappearing as they went over the edge of the Cliff.

One of the boys used to have a theory that things would just disappear down the chasm, but Minho proved it wrong again by chucking a rock into it. The piece of granite continued to fall until they lost sight of it.

"Then what do you think happened?" Thomas asked.

Minho shrugged. "Maybe they're magic. My head hurts too much to think about it."

Thomas started then as if he just remembered something and told them that they had to go back to get Alby. Cassandra and Minho looked at him as if he had just gone insane. From their expressions, he quickly explained himself; that he'd tied Alby with vines and hoisted him up the wall.

Cassandra snorted. "You did what with what?"

"No way he's still alive, dude..." Minho looked down dejectedly.

"How do you know that? Come on," Thomas urged as he started down the corridor with a small limp.

"Because no one's ever made it..." Minho trailed off then looked up and exchanged a glance with her. She could see the gears turning in his head and looked back with wide eyes at the sudden realisation.

Alby had only been stung once and he hadn't been mauled by a Griever. Assuming that he was still fine hanging out on the wall and hadn't been eaten by anything while they were running around the Maze. He could actually still be alive.

Minho got up and followed after Thomas, looking like he'd just had an epiphany. She followed after them down the corridor, her thoughts racing. Nobody had ever survived a night out in the Maze because the Grievers had always gotten to them first. They didn't know whether being stung actually killed a person or just left them in agony until they got a Serum. Maybe it was just some kind of debilitating poison.

They picked up their pace, turning down every corner with renewed vigour. It was still a slow walk though, as their bodies ached too much to go any faster than they already were. Thomas continued asking questions, taking advantage of Minho's talkativeness while Cassandra trailed along behind them. She wanted nothing more than to just crawl into a bed and sleep for an entire week.

They turned the last corner that led to the Glade when Thomas faltered. She looked up to find a group of boys outside the Doors, it seemed they had organised a search party for them. Newt was in the lead and he was already limping over as soon as he caught sight of their bedraggled figures. Her eyes lit up happily to see him but the boy was not reciprocating her enthusiasm.

"Newton!" she greeted the boy with a delighted beam.

"What happened?" he demanded almost angrily. "How in the bloody hell are you all still alive?"

"Oh, it's great to see you too, Newton," Cassandra said sarcastically. "Nah, don't worry about us. Only almost got killed by Grievers. Muscles hurt like shuck and haven't slept for a day, but is all peachy."

"Yeah, we missed you too, buddy," Minho added.

The blonde gave them a look that could freeze the blood in their veins rock solid. Thomas waved his hand in the air impatiently and walked forwards. "We'll explain later. We need to get Alby."

Newt's face went pale at the mention of his old friend. "What do you mean? He's alive?"

"Just come here."

He glanced back at Minho and Cassandra with a perplexed expression. Thomas craned his neck to look for the hiding spot he had strung Alby at, then stopped and pointed. They followed the direction his index finger indicated and barely saw the older boy's face peeking out of the dense leaves that covered the wall. Cassandra would have whistled if she knew how.

"I'll be shucked..." she chuckled. "You actually did it."

"Is he... alive?" Newt asked, aghast.

"I don't know... was when I left him up there," Thomas replied tiredly as he rubbed an eye.

"When you left him..." Newt shook his head in disbelief. He had apparently had enough of all the absurdities. Everything that ever happened since she arrived in the Glade was just absurd. Newt told them to get their butts inside to get checked by the Med-jacks and an explanation ready once they were all rested up.

Cassandra had no desire to protest. She was so exhausted, she had no idea how she was still able to stand upright let alone move any one of her limbs. Thomas looked like he wanted to make sure that the de facto leader was really still breathing but Minho grabbed him forcefully and dragged him back into the Glade.

"We need sleep. And bandages. Now," he said with no room for argument.

She barely registered the stares of the other Gladers as they passed by, as if the three of them were living ghosts. Maybe they were. She didn't know anymore, her brain had finally shut down all its thought processes.

Clint was there to greet them at the Homestead, looking positively livid. She vaguely remembered pushing past him as she made her mad dash across the Glade and into the Maze. And just after recovering from a fever the night before as well. He wouldn't stop lecturing them about self-preservation but none of them really listened.

Everything was starting to blur together. There was a lot of groaning involved as the Med-jacks patched them up, force-fed them some food and water, then pushed them into rooms to rest. She shared a room with Minho since the last one was meant for Alby and they curled up on the narrow bed before immediately falling into a deep sleep.

The gun was heavy and felt out of place in her tiny palms. She fumbled with it and unlocked the safety catch on its side. Her hands shook as she slowly raised it in front of her.

"Hurry, Soyun, shoot him!"

Her father was holding down another man to the ground. He had the squirming man's arms locked behind the back and held his head to the dirt. A younger boy sat on the man's legs, trying hard to keep them down.

She didn't recognise the man, didn't know him. Half his face was covered in painful pus-filled sores that oozed a thick yellow liquid down the sides. The man's eyes were bloodshot and wild with murderous frenzy as he gnashed his teeth together. Her heart thumped painfully against her small chest, as if it was on the verge of giving up altogether.

"Soyun!" her father called to her before lowering his voice coaxingly. "It's okay, sweetheart, it's okay. You can do it. Just aim and pull the trigger. Just like how I taught you."

The number one rule, and the only thing that had kept them alive, was following her father's orders. She had learnt that a moment's hesitation could cost them their lives. So, she held the gun up and aimed it at the writhing man as he moaned like a wounded beast. Her finger trembled against the trigger and there was a loud bang.

The recoil sent her reeling backwards. There was a moment of silence, then she heard her father mumble a well done. The gun clattered for a second on the hard ground before lying still once more. She looked up at what she had done, at the life she had just taken in a blink of an eye, but the man's face had changed.

Her father stared up at her unblinkingly, a gaping hole between his eyes.

And a scream pierced through the air.