This one was fun to write!
Thanks as always for the wonderful reviews, I love reading them so much!
We have one more chapter left of Phase 1 and then we're onto the next leg of the journey, I hope I do it justice.
As always, leave me a comment, review, favourite, and you'll make my day!
Much love- me xxx
CHAPTER 32:
"You're back."
Thomas and Minho were met with a tired looking Adira, her hands planted on her hips, her gaze trained on the grey mess of concrete behind them as if she could see the exit. The bandages across her head had disappeared and a gash across her arm had been added to her growing collection of injuries, oozing blood slowly, but healing too.
"Did the Grievers come by last night?" Thomas asked, almost frantically as he pushed back his hair, face paler with exhaustion from being out for almost a full day.
"Took a shank. Luke." she said, nodding. Thomas didn't look surprised but his face coalesced into sadness and she was struck by the emotion on his face. Hearing the news of someone's death put her on edge, yes, but she was so used to it that she felt nothing at that point. Another thing the Creators had stolen from her. "Find anything?"
"The Walls didn't even move." Minho said tiredly and her face tightened at the growing vexation in his voice. "They're shucking playing with us, Ad."
There was unmistakable anger in his voice and he shook his head in irritation, his jaw flexing and she knew he was upset. Three years, everything had gone to klunk and still they had no answers and the burden lay on his shoulders as heavy as it had always been, if not any heavier. She was the Leader, yes, but she didn't bear the load of being an answer. Minho left, his muscles tense and Thomas looked vaguely concerned, but mostly disbelieving.
"He's been running for as long as I can remember." she started quietly and Thomas' gaze shifted to her, "Never takes a break and if he does it's only cos he's mortally injured. An inch away from death."
Thomas looked upset for a brief moment but waited for her to continue, "You gotta understand, Thomas, that there's points where you're sick of looking at the same shuck corridors, sick of doing the same thing again and again but not having an option. "
"It's hard enough as it is, running that thing." she looked at the invisible trail Minho had made as he'd left to the Deadheads, "It's even harder when you bear all the weight. Even worse when you watch everyone drop like flies around you."
Thomas looked remorseful but he didn't say anything. She noticed the dullness in his face, knew he was starting to realise what the Maze really was.
"Don't be too hard on him. He hasn't lost hope. There's been points where we've all lost it, yes, but it comes back." Shrugging, she slapped his back, "The Maze is shucked. But we'll get out, simple as. Not because we want to, but because we have to."
The grey sky served as a reminder for their dwindling food supplies and their stolen independence and Thomas nodded, albeit a little bleakly, but it was good enough for her. He didn't seem like the type to give her a wide grin, pretend he was fine.
"So, we've got all the letters?" Thomas asked, breaking the silence, "From the Maze maps, I mean."
"Yeah." Adira nodded, "Go down to the store room, Newt and the Greenie are still there. I'll go get Minho."
Thomas nodded, walking off to the room where the Maps where, his gait slower than usual, clearly tired out from staying in the Maze overnight. Sighing, she headed off into the Deadheads, following the general direction Minho had left in. She found him standing next to their wall of names, his fingers tracing over the rough letters someone had carved. It was her name.
"Min?"
He turned and she was surprised to see he looked normal, pensive even, as if he hadn't just left full of anger.
"You think we're getting out of here now?" he asked suddenly and she chose her words wisely.
"I do." she replied, stepping forward, "We're onto something here. So shucking close."
Minho looked at her steadily as if he was trying to figure out whether she was lying or not, before he blew out a breath, grinning a little.
"You sound so weirdly optimistic. Where's my favourite realist gone?" he chuckled and she smiled, pushing forward and wrapping her arms around his torso. His arms came down around her and she felt her heart rate slowing to beat at the same pace as his own.
"I am optimistic," she defended, "Just, very deep down."
"Very, very deep down." Minho agreed before pausing slightly, "Sorry for whining like a shuck baby."
"No one blames you." she muttered, "It's fine if you get mad sometimes, Min. I get it. Everyone does."
"Yeah, but not now." Minho muttered before his eyes lit up as he remembered something, "You guys got more letters, or?"
"We got a ton of letters." she said, pulling back, "We made words. 'Cept, they don't make sense, but it's progress."
Minho nodded, "Let's check it out then, I wanna see."
She lead the way through the blackened trunks of the trees, walking slower than usual for his benefit as they crossed the Glade and dipped down through the doorway of the store room.
"FLOAT, CATCH, BLEED, DEATH, STIFF and PUSH." Adira read aloud, effectively announcing their presence in the room and explaining the new codes to Minho. Thomas was staring hard at the papers, his face white and she could make out Newt's worried gaze trained on her brother with startling intensity. She was surprised her twin hadn't felt it.
"What's that meant to mean?" Minho grumbled, "It doesn't make sense."
Thomas made a noise but otherwise said nothing.
"Good there, Tommy?" Newt asked, voice light but eyes boring into the younger boy.
"Y-yeah, just tired." Thomas said and she narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. Teresa was staring intently at Thomas but he shook his head.
"Both of you, nap." Adira instructed suddenly, pointing at Thomas and Minho, "You need your energy."
Minho shrugged- he wouldn't complain- and Thomas followed the Keeper, face still pale but she didn't stop him, watching as they disappeared into the Med Hut.
"Slim it." Newt called out tersely and the murmurs that had been sounding through the Homestead quietened as the boys settled down for sleep, their fear tangible. Adira paused as she found Nico's face peering out at her, terror painted clearly on his features. Bending down, she patted his hair away from his eyes.
"Slim it and sleep." she said, not unkindly and Nico seemed to draw strength from her curt words, closing his eyes like a child and trying his best to escape reality.
"Everyone's in." Newt said and she nodded.
"Let's head up then."
They climbed up the stairs and she inspected the boarding job the Builders had done in her room- thanks to Gally, they'd had to redo it, better and stronger. Thomas was against the bed frame and Minho was waiting on the bed, his figure tense.
"You're back soon." Thomas commented.
She nodded, "Finished checking up on everyone."
Newt shook his head, "There's practically no point. Shuck Grievers will still take a shank."
Minho nodded, agreeing, "We have to get out but we can't just sit on our butts. I don't know maybe we should fight them?"
She rolled her eyes, "Yeah, that would work if everyone here was a Runner. Half these shuckfaces haven't even seen one properly. They'd freeze up."
"Not to mention, we'll probably get more of us killed by fighting 'em." Newt cut in and Minho shrugged, frustration evident in the set of his shoulders.
"What choice do we have?" he muttered, "All wait here, watch 'em take everyone away? Then what?"
Silence lasted after his question and Thomas settled to go to sleep, fear overtaking his body every time he remembered what he was going to do, the crazy idea that could cost him his life. But he had to. Hearing the Leader talk about the Maze, running it every day without fail, he knew he had to do this. Minho, Adira, Newt, all the Runners, they'd given up so much and he could do the same.
"Sleep." Adira commanded and Thomas noted the way Minho pulled her into his side, his eyes soft and gentle, different to how they usually were with the Gladers. He didn't know what the pair were. A couple? It seemed plausible, the way they acted around each other and the way they could basically read each other's mind. It was clear to see they kept the other going, a strange dynamic that had them challenging each other. He wondered how he understood that.
The hours ticked by, his muscles coiling tighter and tighter as each hour passed, face paling, stomach churning. Weirdly, he felt ashamed for being scared. Minho never showed a crack of fear usually, bold and uncaring nearly always and he wanted to emulate that brazenness too.
Then again, the Keeper wasn't planning to basically commit suicide.
The familiar, eerie ticking of the Grievers sounded through the Glade and the boys awakened, the thick tension cascading like a blanket pulled over them, cutting their air short. Adira woke up quickly, jumping off the bed and shushing any boys who dared make a noise, gently pressing herself to the opposite wall.
"They're coming." Minho whispered in her ear and she glanced at him. He was staring straight ahead, blank faced, fixated on the arrival of possible death. Squeezing his hand, she waited tensely, barely breathing as the ticking abruptly halted. The Griever was going to attack. Despite the knife clenched in her fist, she knew that their meagre weaponry was nothing against the robot monsters and at most, would buy them a spare few seconds. Those crucial few moments were of worth in the Maze, but here, there was nowhere to run. Again, the feeling of suffocation descended- she wanted to bolt, right out into the Glade through to the Maze. Sitting here felt wrong.
Screams erupted like an exploding volcano as a metal leg tore through the wood in their room- they clearly had the worst luck in the Homestead and the boys scrambled away from the vile appendage as quickly as they could, wielding their weapons optimistically.
"Tommy! What're ya doing, shank?" Newt yelled as Thomas sprinted forward, jumping down the stairs, fast, running out into the openness of the Glade. Before she could think, she was on her feet, following his sprint with fear pounding through her soul. Thomas was waving at the biomechanical creatures and she scowled, fighting past the sea of boys, trying to save her brother from the monsters' venomous hold.
The Grievers were hissing at him, their entire gruesome luggage tensing as she saw a familiar looking spike like mechanism start to retract, aiming for her twin. Then it struck forward.
"No, dammit!" she seethed when Thomas swayed on the spot, stung, just as someone pushed her hard so she could break through the barricade of boys and wood. Someone's feet were pounding beside hers, but she didn't check, knowing instinctually it was Minho. The Grievers were close, but few were retreating and she worked fast, lugging Thomas' body across the ground, already noticing the eerie spread of black veins creeping up his neck. Minho was cautiously holding out a knife, before he grabbed Thomas' feet.
"Run!"
The sprint back was panicked, sloppy and rabid with fear as they burst through the entrance of the Homestead, rushing up the stairs with no break as they laid Thomas on the bed, Newt jumping up and helping them bind him down. The awed stares of the boys dissipated as Clint entered the room with a syringe in his hand, scowling ferociously at the whispers.
"Stung." the Med Jack said loudly, ripping off Thomas' shirt and giving Adira a confused look. She hadn't realised she'd let loose a few tears until then. Clint shoved the syringe with the neon blue liquid into a black vein. "Serum in but we'll wait and see."
Then he was gone, rewrapping someone's bandages as Jeff followed, muttering winced apologies on behalf of his unapologetic and overworked Keeper. Wiping the tears roughly from her face, she bent down to Thomas' level, staring at his closed eyes and the crease on his forehead.
He was an absolute idiot. But she knew exactly why he'd done it. It had better be worth it.
Sighing she brought herself up, standing.
"Monitor him. Call me when he wakes up." she said and her voice sounded hoarse, unlike her own. Newt nodded, but there was silence.
Thomas' head was pounding hard as consciousness returned, lifting its oppressive qualities from his eyelids, spinning a bright, blurry image in front of him. Groaning, he lifted himself up, head swaying from not only pain, but information. He knew things. Being Stung had worked.
It had worked too well.
He'd committed the act so he could help them find a way out, but he got to know more about a very specific girl in the Glade. And it wasn't the one Newt kept addressing as his "girlfriend".
Light blue eyes entered his vision, painfully familiar, invoking all the feelings that had been suppressed by the memory block WICKED had inflicted on him. The anger swelled in his throat as he took in her face, the worried eyes, the hollowness in her cheeks and the same exhaustion lacing everyone's profiles. To think he could've gone years without knowing who she was to him, staying distant, unable to protect and love her as an older brother should.
Unable to help himself, he pulled the Leader into his arms, just about managing to keep his tears at bay as she reciprocated; clearly, she'd known all along.
"You're my sister." he gasped out, quietly and she nodded, smiling against his shoulder. WICKED had screwed up their top candidate big time. If putting him into a Maze with death machines didn't do it, adding his sister into the equation definitely did.
"Hey brother." she replied thickly, pulling back, "Glad to see that you remember."
Thomas ran a hand through his hair, "I can't believe you didn't tell me Ad."
The nickname felt comfortable on his tongue and he fumed at WICKED internally, hateful that they'd stolen their bond as siblings so callously. He knew why, vaguely, but it didn't make it any better.
"Sorry?" she said, phrasing it as a question before shrugging, "I didn't want to overwhelm you, I guess."
Thomas looked at her face, truly taking in every feature of her- sharp, high cheekbones, her distinctive light eyes, the tanned skin, brown-blonde hair. He wondered if he looked like her.
"I'm the older twin." he said suddenly, smirking as her face turned into horror.
"No way." she gasped out, "I am 100% older."
Even as the words came out, she knew it was untrue. Thomas chuckled at her expression, before his face morphed into seriousness and she straightened.
"What?" she practically demanded before adding on, "You're a shuckface for getting Stung by the way."
"I did it-"
"We all bloody know why you did it." Newt said, his voice calm and steady, "Much as I don't want cut your moment short, you might want to hurry and explain. You've been out for three days and we're at the edge now. Ain't gonna hold out for much longer."
Thomas swallowed, "We need a Gathering. Quick."
Newt shrugged, turning to Adira, "Yeah?"
She nodded, "Fine. We'll do it now."
Newt didn't look surprised at her haste, nodding as he turned out of the door, ready to call all the Keepers into the lower floor of the Homestead for the meeting. Thomas' nervousness made itself known, his heartbeat quickening.
"Tom?" Teresa's voice bloomed as she entered the room, her face contorted into an expression of extreme relief.
"Teresa." Thomas greeted back, not seeing the irritation in his sister's face, instead offering a sheepish half shrug, "I'm back."
"You idiot." Teresa breathed, her bright blue eyes reproachful, "You should've said something."
Thomas rolled his eyes, "And you'd have let me go out?"
She pursed her lips as Thomas pushed back his hair, frowning. "We did this, Teresa. We're the bad guys here."
The black haired girl stayed silent and Thomas talked on, the words rushed as the enormity of his past person's actions crashed onto him. To think he created the trap, designed it to be a testing ground for lab rats crushed his already low self-esteem. Barely knowing who he was had been tough and to find out he'd created a hell hole didn't help his image.
"We were helping the Creators make this place, we designed the entire thing so that we could get something. I don't remember what it was, but we did this."
Teresa's face was blank, "Oh."
"Oh?" Thomas asked incredulously, "We've killed people, Teresa."
She looked up at his guilt ridden face, "The one thing I know, Tom, is that WICKED is good. There's a reason behind everything they did. Remember that."
Thomas shook his head, opening his mouth to speak but his sister cut in, her voice cold and devoid of emotion, "The Gathering's starting Thomas."
He nodded, making his way off the bed and Adira softened as he walked up to her, blinking hard to rid himself of dizziness.
"Good there shank?" she asked, smiling lightly.
Thomas grimaced but shot her a cheesy thumbs up, "Never felt better. Not like I got Stung three days ago."
Adira gave him a dead look, "And whose fault was that?"
"Ouch." he muttered, "Way to rub it in."
"Truth hurts." she said, pushing open the door to the Gathering hall, "And I have a feeling the truth you're about to spill is going to shucking kill."
Thomas didn't reply, seating himself down promptly as the Keepers stared at the old Greenie, his face all too familiar to them. Thomas was glad for Frypan's small nod of encouragement, but it dropped into guilt for what he was going to say.
"We'll get on with it, ain't time for any formalities." Adira announced loudly, her face unconcerned, "Thomas?"
He swallowed roughly, nodding as he took the metaphorical stage.
"I…remember things." he started, "From being Stung, I mean. And there's a lot. It's a long story, but I know things that can get us outta here."
No one spoke but there wasn't any doubt in anyone's faces, purely curiosity, "The Maze…it's unsolvable, it's a test, an experiment, a puzzle. We can't solve it that way. But there's a reason we're in here, WICKED wants the survivors for something."
Adira was listening intently and Minho looked vaguely confused while Newt was sitting back in his chair, frowning. Chatter erupted, consternation painted over people's faces and Adira slammed her hand down violently against wood to shut them up.
Thomas sighed, "WICKED is…this organisation and they're trying to stop the world from ending. And they needed us, I don't know why, but they recruited children that had high intelligence. They gave us shelter, schooling, all of that, for a while, and they gave us names that weren't ours. Like nicknames, I guess. My name; Thomas- for Thomas Edison. Newt- Isaac Newton. Sigmund Freud, Winston Churchill. I don't know why though."
Newt leaned forward, "My real name's not Newt?"
Thomas shook his head, "No. We were all tagged, I don't know why. Anyway, they analysed us, followed our brains, made notes for something. Then they wiped our memories and shoved us all up into here, taking more brain scans."
"Why?" Winston asked before rolling his eyes and pointing an accusatory finger at Thomas, "This makes about as much sense as klunk."
"Slim it." Adira commanded, "Continue Thomas."
"The Maze can't be solved." he repeated and there was outbreak again. Minho looked angry, shaking his head and Frypan was pursing his lips in disappointment. Even Adira was frowning, unable to comprehend that there wasn't some trick hidden in the Maze that would take them home. It felt like the day Minho had told her the Maze wasn't solvable by running it.
"See? It's been three years but you're still fighting. You can't accept that there isn't a way to solve the Maze, this is what WICKED wants. It wants the survivors, the strongest."
He paused, stringing his thoughts together into words, "Everything here is meant to produce a reaction from us. Grievers, wall changes, the sky turning grey. Everything's here for a reason, and everything happens for a reason too."
"Even poor shanks dying?" Frypan asked, George flashing through his mind. No one here deserved death, no matter what noble cause it was for.
"Even deaths." Thomas replied grimly, "I don't exactly know why, but that's what everything in here is."
"So how are we getting out of here?" Minho asked, frustration clear in his voice.
"I'm getting there." Thomas said, heaving in a breath, "The code. It's in the wall movements, we know that."
Adira's eyes narrowed.
"I did it, didn't I? I coded it that way." Thomas said, his voice sharp, "I was there with the Creators."
Newt looked dumbfounded and Adira cut in her voice sharp with something he couldn't tell, "Explain."
"Teresa and I, we're different. The Creators used us, there's a reason everyone recognises me." Thomas stopped for a brief moment, "I helped design the Maze."
"You're sixteen." Adira said, "There's no way you built that."
"I know what I remembered." Thomas contradicted, "And I'm telling you, me and Teresa designed the thing. Not that we wanted to, the Creators forced us."
"I didn't want to do it." he reiterated cautiously, "And I'm sorry. But I'm here, just as killable as the rest of you. But the Creators are getting tired. They're not getting enough. So, now they're throwing a bunch of variables at us and we have to get out. I'm sorry."
"Slim it, Tommy." Newt said, "Everyone's mad at the buggin' Creators, not a sixteen year old Greenie."
"How are we meant to get outta here, if the Maze isn't solvable?" Billy asked indignantly.
There was silence and Thomas pursed his lips, "You're right, it isn't solvable. There's a way out of the Maze though."
Minho's frown softened slightly. "Spit it out then shank."
Thomas looked down, "It's the Griever Hole, Minho. That's our ticket outta here."
The Asian Keeper's jaw dropped- a first in the Glade- but unlike everyone else, there was a vague sense of pride on his countenance and Thomas couldn't help but feel relieved as a smile crept onto his face. He rubbed his eyes, erasing the dredges of sleep left behind from his short three day coma, before addressing the claims issuing forth from the Keepers like the water from a burst dam. Even amiable Zart looked disastrously mistrustful and he felt his heart sink in dismay.
"That's bloody suicide!" Newt grumbled, his lips flattened into a disapproving line. Winston was standing up, vehemently shaking his head along with Billy who was physically snarling at Thomas.
"Gally was shucking right," he said, "This guy is a shuck spy or whatever."
Frypan stood up frowning, "I don't know about the rest of ya but hanging out with a bunch of Grievers doesn't sound like an action plan to me. What's better about that idea than waiting back here?"
Minho shook his head, "I'm with Thomas. Sounds crazy, but it's all we have left. Otherwise, what, Frypan? Gonna wait for a Griever to come stab ya in the back?"
Frypan pursed his lips at Minho's mocking tone but he didn't reply. If there was anyone Frypan was willing to listen to other than the Leaders, it was the Keeper of the Runners. He knew Minho's opinion had significant weight and his arguments were impressive enough to shut every shank up.
"Come on." the Runner snorted, "You're sissies if you'd rather wait for them to kill ya instead of going down fighting."
Newt interrupted, the redness of his ears highlighting his irritation, "All's looking bloody happy and lovely, Tommy, 'part from how we're fighting those shuck monsters. They Sting people! We'll all get stung and then what's the plan?"
"They're not gonna sting anyone. Not anymore."
"Glad to know you have all the inside info." Newt said sarcastically, "I'll need some evidence for that claim there."
He groaned, "That's why the Grievers only come and take one of us every day. It's not about the Stinging anymore, Newt, it's about getting outta here now."
"And we're back to square one." Billy said testily, "How are we getting out of here?"
"I have an idea." Thomas said, slightly apprehensively.
Minho whistled from the back, "Get ready shuckfaces. Knowing this shank, we're probably not gonna like it."
Adira shot Minho a withering glare, turning back to her ballsy brother. "The idea?"
"We have to sacrifice one person. Then everyone runs through the Griever Hole and we run for our shuck lives once we shove the code in."
"You're insane!" Billy yelled, firing up, "This shank's crazy!"
"Calm yourself Billy." Newt said, rolling his eyes.
"Well, who?" Winston piped up, "If we're really gonna do this, who's sacrificing themselves?"
Thomas' tongue darted out to wet his lip, his throat feeling dry, "Thought it was obvious. Me."
Adira almost burst out laughing at the determination in her brother's eyes as if he really, genuinely thought she was really going to let him die after just establishing a connection between them. It wasn't fair.
"Get your shuck butt outside." she said, pulling him along as he started protesting. She needed to talk to him privately and understand him better. There had to be a way around the sacrifice theory he'd come up with and if not, she'd be damned if he would die in front of her.
"What?" he cried as they stepped out of the Homestead.
"You're going a step too far." she said stoutly, "We're listening to ya Thomas. The Griever Hole is the way out. There's no need to throw in sacrifices, like we're some kinda cult."
"I'm not making this up." he said, stubbornness lining his tone, "I want to do this."
"Okay." she said, rolling her eyes, "What about me? We literally just reunited. I'm not a selfish person, Thomas, and I'm willing to give up a lot for the Gladers but there's a line and you're crossing it. You're my brother and I'm not going to pass the vote on my sibling's death."
"I put you guys in here anyway!" Thomas groaned, "I'm just trying to make amends here!"
Her gaze softened, "You don't need to die to do that shuckface."
Thomas looked unconvinced but she didn't bother trying to speak anymore. "I'm going back in to convince everyone that your shuck crazy butt is right and we've all gotta get real friendly with seeing Grievers."
There was a look of shock on his face and he nodded jerkily. "O-oh okay."
She gave him a rare smile, "We'll leave today. Today night. Hopefully then the Grievers will be outside the Griever Hole. I'm not waiting any longer."
He straightened, "Thanks, Ad."
She nodded, walking back inside to be met with absolute chaos. It would a long process, getting the riled up Keepers to listen to her.
Sighing, she planted her feet squarely, opening her chest and crossing her arms assertively, ready to defend her blood.
"So, everyone said yes?" Thomas asked, confused with the turn of events. Either the Keepers hated Thomas and didn't want to show him they were really on his side of things while he was in the room or Adira was really good at persuading them. Ultimately, they were on board and willing to fight. Thomas' heart swelled with a combination of nerves and excitement.
Adira nodded, kicking a stone before she sat beside him on the log, her face blank, eyes narrowed as she ignored the Gladers' screams of protest against their Keepers. The news wouldn't be going down well with anyone. She swallowed down a wave of random dizziness, mentally noting to eat more food at dinner.
"Just to clarify, this is shucking insane." she sighed, "But I'm on your side."
Thomas slung his arm around her shoulder, "This is long overdue, but I'm sorry for messing up your pretty little civilisation."
She smiled, slapping his back, "Nah. We like you shucking everything up."
Thomas rolled his eyes at her before blowing out a breath, "I'm scared."
She gave an unladylike snort, but there was no humour in her voice as she spoke, "Same. Shucking terrified."
"We don't really have a choice." Thomas said, trying to convince himself that everything would go smoothly, "It's either do or die."
"Damn straight." his sister replied strongly, "Like Minho said, if we're going down, we're going down fighting."
Thomas raised his gaze to the infinity of grey above them, feeling her conviction seep into him too, solidifying his willpower and determination. He wondered how she didn't hate him in that moment, after knowing he'd condemned them all to the Maze.
"Not everyone's going to come along are they?" he asked and Adira shook her head.
"Some people think it's complete klunk. What's to do? If they don't want to come, then fine, but neither of us is really winning to be honest." she shrugged.
Thomas nodded, "We have to get ready for it. We're going tonight."
Adira didn't respond, only pulling her arms over her knees, staring at the pandemonium their lives were becoming. Three years and things were about to change completely, irreversibly. She didn't know what to feel.
"When I first came here, I didn't expect anyone else to come along." she started, "I thought I was doomed to be alone for the rest of my shuck life."
She leaned back on her palms, squinting slightly, "So when the first batch of boys came up, it was a shock. I was happy. Saw Newt first," she smiled gently, "then it was Minho."
"I felt bad, obviously, for wanting them to be there." she continued, "But I was so shucking happy I wasn't alone anymore. That first month…" she trailed off, yanking shrivelled grass out of the ground, "it was rough. No one to talk to, no one to help, no one to cry to."
She blew the blades of grass away, before turning squarely to her brother, "The point is, the moment the boys came up here, I knew I'd never be alone again. We've got each other and that's something we can always count on."
Turning back, she caught sight of Clint embracing Jeff and she smiled a little, "The Creators took a lot, Thomas. They've done some klunk. But they cannot break our spirit. So be scared, but know we've got your back."
Thomas was shocked into silence for a moment before he spoke again, slightly hesitantly.
"How was it? When you got here?"
"I cried." she said bluntly, "But I got myself together and the first few days…were fine, I guess. Then I stepped out. Into the Maze."
Thomas didn't say anything, scared he'd break her from her thinking.
"That's when things got bad. It was hard enough not knowing who I was and why there was no one around, but when I saw the Griever-"
She stopped, sucking in a sharp breath and he turned to see her eyes were glassy, "I almost died that day. Couldn't step out for three days, I was so scared. But I had to."
"I'm sorry." he said heavily.
"No, don't be." Adira laughed, sniffing twice, "I remembered you. And it kept me going. I wanted to find a way out to see you."
Thomas stood up, grinning slightly, a faint quirk of his lips that resembled her own small smile. "And now, I'm here."
She rolled her eyes, standing too, "Hurrah."
"Ha ha." he deadpanned, "Very funny."
Newt walked up to the pair of siblings, subconsciously marvelling at their ability to seamlessly bond again, acting as if they'd known each other forever, though from Adira's fragments of memories, they'd been separated early on in life, reunited with the cold watch of WICKED scientists on their backs. He didn't want to cut their moment short, but with time pressing on forwards, there wasn't much choice.
"We got the weapons ready, Ad." Newt said and the Leader nodded, her face turning serious, "Go get your knife, I've got mine."
He ran the tip of his finger over his blade, the same one she'd gifted him the responsibility of ages ago. It was one of his most prized possessions, not only because of its practicality but because of the meaning behind it.
"Yessir." she said, somehow making the atmosphere light hearted despite the fear dampening the Glade, pressing into the pores of their skin. "Has Frypan started making meals?"
"Yup. Shank's bloody on it." Newt said, "Everyone's scared outta their minds, but I'll give it to 'em, they're going for it hard. No slacking, everyone's serious."
She gave a satisfied nod, "Don't need any klunkheads with us."
"No." Newt said, grinning a little before it vanished, "I'll take my leave. Tommy, your lovely little girlfriend is coming to say hi."
Adira automatically frowned and she wiped the expression away, "I'll go now, Thomas. Don't stay talkin' too long. Get weapons, get ready and eat."
Thomas nodded, looking vaguely distracted and she turned away, walking briskly with Newt.
"So we've got everything? Everyone who's coming has a weapon?" she asked and Newt nodded.
"And extras." he said, dipping his head towards makeshift spears tipped with sharp glass and she breathed out tensely. They weren't military style bombs or grenades but they'd have to make do with their primitive instruments of death.
"What do you think?" she asked, "You think this is it?"
Newt looked pensive for a moment and he answered slowly, putting his machete in its place on his back, "I think so. But if it isn't then I don't really bloody care at this point. We'll die either way."
"Cheery." she said flatly, before raking her fingers through her messy hair- she couldn't remember the last time she washed it and grabbing her knife, "I guess we should stock up on food. Eat dinner and then prepare for a lovely night."
Newt nodded, gently manoeuvring her towards the Kitchens, not liking the hollowness of her words and the exhaustion in her features. She needed food quickly if she was going to survive the night.
"Hey Fry." she greeted despite the thick blanket of tension and the cook gave her a jerky smile.
"Hello Adira, food for you. And you Newt, wouldn't forget ya." he said, a flash of his normal self shining through the unfamiliar exterior of hardened determination and fear. She appreciated his attempts but the anticipation that kept him restless was too obvious for it to be worth anything.
"Thanks, Fry." she said emphatically, knowing well that it could be the last time she'd see him. Sitting down at a table, she waited for Newt to join her.
"Minho?"
"He's there." Newt said, pointing behind her and she heard a groan.
"I was about to scare her." Minho grumbled, sitting down next to her as he shot Newt a disbelieving glare, "Loosen up a bit, y'know?"
"I'll loosen up after we get outta here." she said, "Moment we're out, I won't know what leader even means."
Minho snorted, shovelling potatoes in his mouth, "You say that, but trust me, you'll be keeping us together. We're the same old lost shanks, Ad. You'll have to tell us what to do."
"Cos you'll listen." she muttered, rolling her eyes. Food wasn't something she wanted, her stomach churning uncomfortably. Minho didn't seem to have the same problem, judging by the way he was eating as if it was his last day on Earth. She pushed the thought out of mind- it would not be his last day, not while she was around.
"Course I will." he said, his voice muffled, "Wouldn't disobey the Wonderful Leader!"
"If you don't slim it, I'll shuck you up before the Grievers get to you." she muttered.
Minho winked, grinning, "Any time you want baby."
Newt choked, she turned a brilliant shade of crimson and Minho laughed at their expressions, shoving his face in his food as if he hadn't said anything. She looked up at her blonde friend only to find him looking everywhere but her, patting his chest violently as he tried to recover.
"Slim it." she gritted out, slapping his hand away from hers and Minho pouted, mirth radiating from his persona, easing the tension in the air. She was excited to run out, hear his feet next to hers, fight Grievers and run away into the potential sunset. Only he could make her excited to run to death.
Thomas decided to make an appearance then and Newt had an excuse to stop his spluttering and stat random conversation, his red cheeks and hurried words eliciting an amused frown from her brother.
"So what's the plan?" Minho asked finally, seemingly finished with embarrassing the klunk out of her. Thomas shot him a bemused look and he shrugged uncaringly, "I had things to do, man. Sometimes, there's other priorities than fighting Grievers."
"If you say so." Thomas replied suspiciously, his eyes darting between his sister's flushed cheeks and Minho's mischievous grin, "Anyway, the basics are; run, fight grievers, punch in code and then run away into eternal glory."
Adira snorted at his deadpan and Newt rolled his eyes.
"I'll watch you skip away like a bloody five year old, yeah?"
Thomas shot the blonde an indignant frown, "Hey! There's nothing wrong with skipping!"
"Dude, we're about to skip to our death beds if we don't get moving soon." Minho snickered, shoving his empty plate forward as a sign of finality.
"You've always been good at cheering us all up, haven't ya?" Newt snarked and Minho sent him a saccharine smile in return.
"Hate to admit it but shuckface actually has a point for once." Adira said, getting to her feet, "We've got to start moving and soon."
They sobered, the fragile cheeriness they'd built dissolving into nothing. Breathing in, she ordered people to start clearing up, heading to the Doors with their weapons and their tangible fear. Nico's frightened eyes didn't leave her mind.
"Ready?" Minho asked, a challenging smirk on his lips.
"Shuck yeah." she mumbled, looking back at the trashed expanse of grassland that had once sustained them. It wasn't bittersweet. She would never miss the place.
The Gladers gathered in front of her, their nervousness manipulating her determination, but she stood strong, blank faced and calm, not betraying a single sign of fear.
"Everyone's got a weapon, shout if you don't." she called out and there was silence, "Then we're ready. Not much to say, 'part from lookout for each other and yourselves."
"Shouldn't there be a pep talk?" Minho asked, quirking up an eyebrow.
"Go on then, shank. Since you're so bloody eager." Newt said and Minho rolled his eyes.
"Be careful." Minho started, his confidence oozing out of him, "Don't die."
Some boys let out strangled noises that resembled laughs.
"Great." Newt muttered, "We're all bloody inspired."
"Look, the Creators have been playing with us for three shuck years but we're finally done. We're fighting back. They took everything from us and we're gonna make them feel pain like we did." Adira cut in, her voice hard and cold with savagery, "I want shucking revenge. And I know all of you do too."
Someone cheered- she thought it was Clint and then more followed, until everyone was a seething mess of limbs, roaring in indignation, enraged by the injustices they had lived by. Jabbing her knife into the air, she led the way into the Maze, the screaming anger following her, challenging the rules they'd built for themselves.