CHAPTER 18:
WARNING: MENTION OF ASSAULT
"Okay, slim it, all of you." Adira said, discreetly rubbing her temples as the boys settled down for the much anticipated Gathering. They'd all known it was going to take place- a violation of the sacred laws of the Glade would not go amiss. But her headache was becoming almost unbearable with the noise and she wanted to get out of the stuffy hall as soon as she could.
"I declare that this Gathering has started." she said, her pointed gaze falling onto Gally, who religiously avoided her eyes, "About this shank here, who broke the rules. Don't go into the Maze, if you ain't a shuck Runner. Our third rule."
There was silence. She paused, licking her lips.
"He needs a punishment, ain't no way he'll be let off for breaking the rules. They're there for a reason, to keep us safe. Suggestions, Keepers."
Frank, predictably, raised his hand first and Adira nodded at him to speak.
"He ran in the Maze and he broke the rules, and the most important one too. He needs the highest form of punishment there is."
She swallowed. The boys had talked about this before, the highest form of punishment. Nick had suggested it, surprisingly and the boys had uneasily agreed to it- a Banishing.
"What are you suggesting?" she asked, "A Banishment?"
"Yes."
She pursed her lips but refrained from commenting, "Frypan?"
"He went through the- what's it called? Oh yeah, the Changing, I think that's punishment enough. Slammer, two weeks. He did wrong, but there ain't no need for a Banishing."
She nodded, grateful for Fry's conciseness, "Billy."
"Banishment." he said, his voice dripping with excitement, "He deserves it."
"Calvin?"
"Slammer, two weeks." He didn't elaborate and he didn't need to either. He was an Original, there was still the bond between the boys who had surged up together through the Box Hole panicked and confused.
"Clint?"
"Slammer two weeks. I saw what he went through with the Changing." he shook his head grimly, "Ain't no more needed."
"Winston."
He looked uneasy, "Rules are rules, right? But a Banishing…the Changing's enough and the shank saw a Griever too! But we have to follow the rules... Banishing, sorry Gally."
"Minho?"
"Slammer, two weeks. Maybe rest off with a meal too." he grinned impishly at Adira's direction and she subtly grinned at his teasing. He'd only added the reduction of a meal a day to annoy Gally.
"Newt?"
"Slammer two weeks. Order's important but he got through the Changing. 'Sides, it was the Creators."
"We don't know that." Frank inputted but Newt shook his head.
"He's had punishment enough. S'all, Ad."
"Slammer two weeks it is then. This Gathering is over, what happens here stays in here. No hard feelings leave this room."
Billy and Frank looked put out but their murmurs were lost as the rowdy boys started up conversations with each other again, the silence quickly depleting. Gally stayed stock still, pale, in the centre of the room, before Calvin approached him, murmured a quick few words in his ear and dragged the Keeper of Builders off.
"Done." Newt sighed, "That's one thing outta the way."
"Surprisingly quick." she muttered, Gatherings always put her in a bad mood. "Where's Minho?"
Newt shrugged, "Dunno. Maybe the Map room?"
She nodded thoughtfully, "Probably looking at those…Outer sections."
"You don't like it do you? This Outer section thing."
She smiled at Newt, "You know me too well."
He laughed, before throwing his arm around her shoulders, "I didn't like it at first either, y'know? And you're more careful than all of us, anyway, so I knew you'd be cautious."
"It's the right thing to do, right? Letting him run it?"
"I don't know." Newt said simply, "But he's the Keeper and he knows the Maze better than both of us combined. Trust his judgement."
"I do." she said , laughing a little, "Just worried."
"You're always bloody worried about something or the other, it's why we're all alive right now." Newt replied, rolling his eyes.
"I don't know if that's a compliment or not." she said bluntly.
"Take it or leave it." Newt grinned playfully, "Come have dinner with me in the Kitchens, I'm bloody starving."
"Lead the way." she said, laughing as Newt hooked his harm through hers and escorted her "like a proper gentleman should". His words, not hers.
"Ready, m'lady?"
"Of course, good sir." she replied, attempting at a British accent and failing spectacularly. They laughed loudly, sobering as they walked into the crowded Kitchens, furtive glances of admiration, envy, confusion and curiosity thrown their way. At least, her way. Newt was friendly with everyone, he was a familiar face; her, not so much. She really needed an aspirin.
"Oh, Minho's here too." Newt grinned down at her, "Let's go get the grub already."
They sat down heavily, Newt next to her, both opposite Minho, who'd reverted into one of his many moods; brooding, intimidating, don't-shucking-come-near-me-unless-you-want-death was his current one. She'd seen him come out of the Runners Hut with a sour expression- his anger was definitely to do with the Maze.
"Eat up Minho." Newt said, his voice low, "You'll need it, if you're running into the Outer sections tomorrow."
Minho glanced at Newt, before nodding, "Yeah, shank. Don't worry 'bout me."
Adira bit her lip, feeling more than useless, "S'alright, Min. We'll make it, we'll find a way out."
Minho moved his gaze from his bowl of stew to her face, his eyes hollow. It was worse than she thought, he was not okay at all. She'd grown accustomed to him hiding every single bit of himself but seeing him so…hopeless, it truly made her heart ache. She had a sudden urge to take his hand in hers. Might as well.
She gripped his hand tightly, feeling the warmth seep into her own skin as she offered him her full support- emotionally and physically. He was most definitely surprised but he took her comfort like a suffocating man drew in air, gripping back just as hard. Newt looked, weirdly, completely unsurprised with her actions, but she didn't dwell on it.
"There's a lot more to run." he said lowly, his muscles tense, "What if there is no way out? We'd have run for nothing."
"There is a way out, come on Minho." she encouraged, "There is, hidden somewhere."
"She's right, shank." Newt said seriously, "Don't…Don't lose hope. We'll make it out."
Minho gave Newt a long, level gaze, heavy with sadness and understanding before nodding sharply and shrugging, a small smirk decorating his lips, "Duh, I'm the shuck Keeper, course we'll make it out."
"Night boys." Adira wished, stifling her yawn with her hands.
Fry nodded back, smiling whilst Newt saluted her with a grin. Minho was probably already snoring- he'd gone to bed earlier than usual.
Her bed was her damn life, she thought as she sunk into the warm, soft abyss- soft was a slight overstatement, but still, it was better than the hammocks most of the boys slept on.
Sleep came quickly, but of course, the nightmares followed closely too- they were basically a package deal at this point.
"I don't know where anyone is." she shrugged, squinting slightly so she could see her friends through the haze of dirt that was kicked up in the air. "There's no one around."
"That doesn't make sense." Minho muttered, "This is where everyone's meant to be at."
"Right?" Newt added, "You think they're all dead too? The Flares could 'a gotten them as well."
Minho shook his head uncertainly, "I don't know…"
"The Scorch was meant to be where everyone comes together, it's where resources are meant to be." Adira said, "I don't see a damn thing so far."
Newt nodded jerkily, "How about shelter for now? I don't see an answer popping up in front of us anytime soon."
They agreed, grudgingly, scouting out a dismantled building, dusty and abandoned, not a sign of life anywhere.
She felt unsettled, so did the other two, their caution peaking, paranoia settling in as they closed their eyes in hopes of sleep. Heart finally settling to a normal pace, Adira let sleep slip in, needing the rest desperately.
Hands, cold and slimy, unfamiliar to the touch, covered her mouth, squeezing tightly; a warning- stay silent or you're dead. She could do nothing as it dragged her, squeezing hard as she struggled to breathe, watching with rising panic as she was moved away from her sleeping friends.
Her eyes flew open and she tried to inhale deep gulps of air, belatedly realising that she couldn't, because someone's hands were covering her face. Was this still a dream? Panic like nothing she had felt before, rose up her throat, threatening to overwhelm her at any minute.
"Keep shucking still, girlie." a voice whispered in her ear, "Don't make a sound."
Frank.
His clammy hands were secured tightly over her and she still hadn't moved, not a single finger, terrified as he slipped a blade underneath her throat.
"Hush, or you'll be dead." he snarled sadistically, "Wouldn't want that would we? The Glorious Leader, fought through so much, only to die in her bedroom."
She'd never admit it, but the nickname Minho sometimes used had been funny, endearing even, but hearing it from Frank made her want to throw up there and then. No way was this actually happening to her, no way. The blade pressed against her throat, tighter, forcing to hear her acknowledgment. Panic gave way to rage. No way was she going to die by the hands of the slimy boy, no way in hell. She'd fight her way out of this- if she could go head to head with a Griever, she could do it with a boy who was useless at pretty much anything.
Nothing moved but her elbow, striking him straight in the groin, rendering his blade and his grip on her useless. He collapsed, bringing her down with him so she landed on top of him heavily. Breaking away from his grip, she kicked him in the side for good measure- better safe than sorry. Pulling the blade away from his hand, she wasn't ready for him to recover and grip her free wrist, jerking her downwards and forcing her onto hard floor. She threw the knife against the opposite wall, making sure it made a noise. Minho was in that room.
"You really thought you could get away." he grinned maliciously, "Stupid."
His hand forced its way up her shirt and she grunted in pure disgust, moving restlessly underneath him. Annoyance overtook the boy and he smacked her head harshly, growling at her but she didn't cease her kicking, finally managing to move enough so that her arm was loose enough to twist his invading hand.
He grimaced, unable to stop a cry from escaping through his lips and she seized the opportunity to slip out from beneath him, wriggling out and scrambling up to her feet, ready to race out into the corridor. She was tiring and quickly- help was needed as soon as possible.
Cold dread lanced her heart as Frank's fingers wrapped callously around her ankle, like a parasitical vine, pulling her down with a dull thud. He crawled on top of her again, smirking as if he'd won something, as his hand crept up her shirt again. He didn't have the knife, but there was no saying whether he's strangle her if she screamed, but what other option did she have?
She was drained now, as he ripped the thin, cotton material away from her body, taking away her dignity, her honour and the innocence of the gift that Newt had bestowed upon her. Her throat closing up, she cried out, "Help!"
Frank froze, before punching her in the stomach, leaving her winded and bruised. Her heart fell as no sound came from the corridor. She was done for.
"Stay still." he smiled, his face sickeningly close to hers, "Otherwise it'll hurt more."
She stared at his smirking, ugly face, a dam breaking in her as she felt the rage, the anger of violation build up behind her face. No way was she going to go down without a fight. She spat at his face, smiling with satisfaction as he stopped moving with shock, his eyes clouding over in anger.
The door slammed open at that precise moment and she could've cried with happiness at the sight of Minho at the doorway, his large, looming figure easily discernible in the grim darkness of night.
"What the shuck is going on?" he thundered, as he walked into the room, eyes ablaze. She almost felt bad for Frank. His hands scrambled up her chest, groping her harshly- she could feel the bruises forming.
She didn't feel bad at all.
Frank scrambled away from her and she picked herself up, staggering to her feet as she found the handle of the knife she had thrown earlier. Minho's eyes found hers as he quietly took in her bruised, half-naked state, before pulling Frank up by the front of his shirt and dragging him out of the room without a word.
She sat on her bed, her hands trembling as the adrenaline started wearing away, leaving her pained and paranoid. She had nearly been raped. Raped. By someone else in the Glade. She shut her eyes, depositing the knife onto her side, holding her head in her hands as she bent over and tried to process what had just happened.
"You're okay." a soft voice said, above her. Newt. Again, with his supersonic hearing. "You're okay, Ad, I'm here."
She felt the bed dip beside her and she almost flinched at the movement, heart pounding, tears swimming in her eyes. She blinked hard twice, before facing a worried looking Newt.
"Where's Minho?" she asked, her voice raspy and hoarse as she crossed her arms across her chest for warmth and modesty.
"He's taken Frank to the Slammer." Newt said softly, before frowning gently at the goosebumps on her arms, "Want my shirt? Shuckface ripped it, honestly -"
She stopped him, as he was already pulling away the fabric, "No, don't worry, Newt, it's okay."
His eyes fell, "I'm sorry, I left for the loo and a glass of water-"
"It's okay, Newt." she said again, "Really. Thank you for coming along now, at least."
Newt nodded, "He'll pay, Ad. He has to. No way can he get away with something so bloody horrible."
Adira bit her lip, already imagining the judgmental stares, the careful voices, the pity. Her voice trembled as she spoke, but it was filled with certainty and venom "Banishment, Newt. I ain't settling for anything less."
Newt nodded enthusiastically in agreement, his eyes snapping to the doorway as Minho entered again, his concerned eyes falling straight onto Adira.
"Adira." Minho said, practically gasping with concern, kneeling in front of her, "Did he hurt you? Where?"
"Just a couple of punches, Min." she said numbly, "I'll wait till the morning to see Clint."
Minho looked even more worried at her words and he swiftly pulled his shirt off, handing it to her as a silent instruction. Newt smiled a little to her side, before it was gone quickly, eyes darkening as he saw the large, growing bruise on her chest and stomach. His jaw clenched as he looked away.
"He's in the Slammer, so I don't break his shuck face." Minho seethed, "I hope you damaged him good."
"Kicked in the balls twice and the side." she said dryly, "We're gonna have to do another Gathering."
Minho glanced at Newt quickly, "You sure?"
"Yes." she said firmly, "Tomorrow."
They talked for an hour or so, Minho never moving from his kneeling position in front of her, his dark eyes trained on her, watching her every movement, filled with concern she felt undeserving of. He really was a gem. Newt, too, understood her need for physical space and obliged, not comforting her with hugs and soft, feathery kisses on the forehead as he usually did when they had had a heavy talk, instead opting for smiles and light taps. She loved them both with all her heart, appreciated the distraction they provided for her- especially adored the fact that they didn't even need to be told what to do, they just knew.
Adira yawned and Newt seemed to have a private conversation with Minho with his eyes only, before he sighed softly, patting her gently on her arm, "Sleep as well as you can, Ad. I...I'll never be able to understand what you went through, but I'm here to talk, yeah? We both are."
He stood up, relaying his usual friendly smile, his chocolate eyes sad but fiery with anger in the dim dark.
"Thanks Newt." she said in a slightly choked voice, "I might have to take you up on that offer."
"S'what I'm here for, shank." Newt said affectionately, smiling broader, "Goodnight, Ad."
"Night Newt."
Minho stayed, nodding to Newt as acknowledgment, but otherwise didn't move a hair. The soft thud of the door resonated like the susurrations in a library. He moved beside her.
"How are you feeling?" he asked in a low voice, his eyes flicking to her motionless form.
"Great." she said blandly, regretting the blunt sarcasm as she caught the brief look of hurt in Minho's face. "Not really." she sighed.
Minho merely waited for her to continue.
"I mean, everything hurts, obviously. But I…I feel horrible inside, Min." she said, frowning, "I feel…violated, so violated. It wasn't his right to do anything like that without consent but I still think it's my fault and I know it's not, but maybe if I wasn't so…open, or affectionate, he wouldn't have thought he could do something so horrible…"
Minho nodded, before angling himself towards her, "It isn't your fault. Listen to your voice of reason, yeah. You know it isn't your fault."
"I know." she replied, laughing slightly, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. Minho winced visibly at the sight of her crying.
"I wanted to beat his face up until you wouldn't have been able to tell whether he was human or a shucking Griever." he admitted, his voice full of rage.
"You'd have broken the rules." she sniffed, "And you know that's not right."
Minho shrugged, "I didn't kill him cos I knew it would make you mad."
She managed a smile despite the negativity swirling inside her, warm with the feeling of being protected and loved; safe.
"I'm going to take a shower." she announced.
"Want me to come? I- I can stand guard, I mean, not that I'll come in-"
"Got it, Min." she smiled, "And it's fine, you should sleep."
He looked up at her, looking closely before:
"Yeah, no, I'm coming. You can have a good shower in peace, good that shank?"
Her heart practically melted onto the wooden floorboards as his concerned eyes bore into her. Honestly, he was precious. She didn't deserve him.
"Good that."