Newt and Zart are busy whacking away at a tree stump that's been in the way for a while, with Thomas and Chuck watching. Well, Thomas is watching; Chuck had been helping, but now he's getting his hand bandaged by Ash due to a small mishap.
And Thomas, of course, is asking a million questions.
"Okay, but why would Alby go in the Maze?" he asks. "He's not a runner!"
"Things are different now," Newt responds, grunting with the effort of his physical task. The chopping sounds, between him and Zart, are nearly rhythmic. "Alby went to retrace Ben's footsteps before sundown- look, are you gonna help?"
Ash snorts at the irritated tone, glancing up from Chuck's hand to see the blond boy pointing to his own handiwork. Thomas seems to ignore the obvious call to action, his mind on one track and one track only.
"Oh, so he's gonna go back to where Ben was just stung-"
"Alby knows what he's doing," Ash interrupts, and Newt points to her with his eyebrows raised, though he doesn't look away from Thomas.
"Exactly," he agrees. "He knows better than any of us."
That seems to shut the Greenie up, if only for a moment. Ash sighs as he opens his mouth again.
"What does that even mean?"
Newt stops what he's doing once more, glancing between the three at the log. Ash just shrugs at him, tying off Chuck's bandage. With a sigh, the de facto leader relents to a small break to explain.
"It's like you've heard, yeah?" he starts. "Every month, the Box comes up with a new arrival. But someone had to be first. Someone had to spend a whole month in the Glade, alone. And that was Alby."
"It couldn't have been easy," Ash sighs, shuddering to herself at the thought of being in his shoes.
"Yeah, and when those other boys started coming up, one after the other," Newt continues, "he saw the truth. And he learned that the most important thing is that we all have each other… because we're all in this together." Newt glances back to Zart, who is still shoveling dirt out of the way so they can have better access to the roots, and gets back to work.
Ash starts humming quietly to herself as Thomas finally gets up and helps. With a smile, she gives some encouragement as he takes a swing with his own machete.
Chuck has started working on his own little carving again, and shows her the progress he's made. Before she can react, she hears a yelp of pain from the builder's station, and rolls her eyes.
"My work is never done," she says, and waves to the others as she takes her leave.
By the time she gets there, Jeff is already taking care of it; just a splinter, albeit a large one. Gally's snickering to himself about it, and only stops as rain begins to fall.
Ash quickly steps under the protection of the thatched awning as the drops get heavier. Soon enough, it's pouring, and almost everyone has to stop what they're doing to take shelter. Across the way, she can see Chuck and Thomas making a run for the homestead. Newt's not far behind them, but his limp is slowing him down. At the builder's station with her, now stuck until the weather clears, are Gally, Jeff, and three other builders.
To pass the time, Ash pulls out a strand of string that had frayed from her hammock, and starts winding and unwinding it around her fingers. Jeff leans against the builders' work table, while they start cleaning up their supplies. Gally keeps an eye on the rain, signature scowl in place.
"Think they're okay out there?" Jeff asks, and Ash nods.
"Minho runs in the rain all the time," she says, avoiding the main concern. Setting her string down for the time being, she sticks her hand out into the rain, and wrinkles her nose. "Cold… ugh."
"Not as cold as the shower block," Gally points out, and some of the others laugh. She meets his eyes briefly, but quickly turns her gaze toward the Maze doors.
The rain ends up lasting almost three hours, and by the time it's gone, everyone is too restless to work. No one can keep their eyes off the doors, and eventually they all gravitate toward them. The air is thick and muggy from the rain.
Shifting from one foot to the other, Ash chews on her nails one at a time as they continue to wait. And wait. And wait.
And wait.
There's less than ten minutes to go, and there's still no sign of Alby or Minho. The light is starting to fade as the sun begins to dip below the tops of the walls.
Five minutes left. No one speaks.
Four minutes.
Three minutes.
The door begins to rumble, preparing to close.
" , guys," Thomas speaks up, "can't we send someone after them?"
"It's against the rules," Gally replies, not taking his eyes off the far end of the corridor. "Either they make it back, or they don't."
"We can't risk losing anyone else," Newt adds quietly.
A deep groan echoes from within the Maze, a warm gust of wind hitting their faces. Some of those in front shield themselves with their arms.
The doors begin to move.
Whispers break out, everyone's worries rising exponentially. There still isn't any sign-
"There!" Thomas shouts, pointing. Indeed, those in front can see Minho and Alby round the corner, but something's wrong. One of them is dragging the other along; Alby's unconscious… or worse.
Ash holds her breath, not joining in as everyone begins shouting encouragement. Minho has to adjust the way he's pulling the other boy, but he's running out of time. The doors are half-way closed, and they're still too far away.
The others' encouragement changes to pleading, begging Minho to drop Alby and run. Of course he'd never, but that doesn't stop the others from suggesting it.
"They're not gonna make it," Newt says, horrified, and Ash puts her hand on his arm.
As the Gladers' view into the Maze dwindles with every passing second, so does their hope. Even if Minho were to leave Alby behind now, he still wouldn't make it out in time. Ash's gentle hand starts to squeeze as movement catches the corner of her eye. Before anyone can stop him, Thomas bolts forward, squeezing himself between the concrete doors.
He seems to just barely make it to the other side before getting squished to death, but those he left behind have no way to know for sure until morning.
The moon is high in the sky, its fullness illuminating the group of teenagers spread around near the doors. Some are curled up in the grass, some slumped against the wall, some sprawled in the middle of the dirt.
Except for Ash. She's still awake, wide awake, playing with her piece of string. She's turned it into a large loop, having tied the two ends together, and she weaves it around her fingers to create different shapes.
The time passes surprisingly quickly this way, her back against the cold concrete, and Chuck's head in her lap. Her rear end went numb a long time ago, maybe an hour into their new waiting session. Her attention is drawn away from her activity when she hears one of the closer boys shifting around in his sleep.
With a small sigh, she looks down to Chuck. Nellie had joined the group only after the doors had closed- never a fan of the sound of their movement- and is now curled into Chuck's side. Ash goes back to her string, biting her tongue as she tries to remember the different formations.
As the sun begins to rise once more, the familiar deep rumbling of the Maze awakens the rest of the group. Chuck is the first one to his feet, scrambling up so quickly that it spooks the dog at his side. She whines and runs off toward the animal pen as the doors begin to open. Newt helps Ash to her feet before they join Chuck at the front and center once more.
They wait until the doors are fully open, greeting them with the familiar, empty corridor, and then Newt speaks.
"Told ya, Chuck," he says softly, almost reluctantly. "They're not coming back."
The others behind them start to turn away, to make their way back toward the homestead, but Ash stays at Chuck's side when he still hesitates. She puts her arm around his shoulders and sighs.
Zart turns back to look at them, then does a double take. "No way!" Others nearby pause and look back. Ash and Chuck turn to look back into the Maze.
Coming around the corner is not one, not two, but three figures. One is being dragged between the other two, but the fact remains that all three of the Gladers trapped overnight have returned despite all odds.
Chuck cheers, almost in a gloating sort of way, as the trio approaches.
The rest of the Gladers come back, and as soon as they're out of the Maze, some rush forward to help take Alby. Frypan, Newt, and Clint help lay him gently on the ground, and Ash jumps into action.
She starts with his pulse, which is strong and steady under her fingers, then his breathing. It's uneven, but there. He's got some scrapes and bruises, especially along his arms, and there's a nasty looking cut on his chin.
Then there's the bloody hole in his shirt, right over his heart, and she frowns. That can't be good, she thinks.
"You saw a griever?" Chuck asks, sounding a bit too excited.
Thomas sounds out of breath as he confirms it.
Minho scoffs. "He didn't just see it," he says, looking first to Thomas, and then to the rest of them. "He killed it."
Ash instructs the boys to take Alby to the medjack hut, and Clint and Jeff take over to get him there. Newt calls the keepers to the gathering house for a meeting.
"Not until I've checked these two over," Ash says first, before Minho and Thomas can even get up from where they'd collapsed to their knees. "I'll make it quick, okay?"
"I'm fine," Minho says. "Couple scratches, that's it."
"Yeah, same here," Thomas adds.
Narrowing her eyes and glancing between the two, she relents. The boys get back to their feet, and Newt leads the way to the gathering house, built into one corner of the Glade. Gally's waiting for them already with the other keepers, his usual resting face giving way to a true anger the others rarely see except when a major rule has been broken. Most of the other Gladers are there, too curious and too many to be kept out.
Inside, Minho practically collapses onto a bench on the lowest level, ignoring everyone who tries to ask him about what happened. Ash sits next to him, patting his shoulder, as Newt goes to take the floor.
Gally beats him to it.
"Things are changing," he says loudly, catching everyone's attention. The chatter dies down. "There's no denying that… first, Ben gets stung in broad daylight, and then Alby. And now our Greenie here has taken it upon himself to go into the Maze- which is a clear violation of our rules here."
He almost sounds like he's been practicing this speech. Ash's leg starts bouncing as she glances around at her fellow keepers, wracking her brain for the right words to say, for the right moment to say them.
"Yeah, but he saved Alby's life," Frypan says, and the builder turns to look at him.
"Did he?" he asks skeptically. "For three years, we have coexisted with these things, and now-" he turns and points an accusatory finger at Thomas, sitting in the very back corner. "You've killed one of them! Who knows what that could mean for us?"
"Well what d'you suggest we do?" Newt asks, looking like he already knows the answer. Ash certainly does.
"He has to be punished," Gally says, as though it's the most obvious thing in the world. The other Gladers take up in protest, until Newt calls for Minho to speak.
"I think…" Minho takes a breath to prepare himself. "In all the time we've been here, no one's ever killed a griever before." He stands up and joins the others. "When I turned tail and ran, this dumb shank stayed behind to help Alby. Look, I dunno if he's brave or stupid, but whatever it is, we need more of it. I say we make him a runner."
Ash bites back a grin as she glances between those standing, and the boy in question sitting behind them. Chuck starts chanting Thomas's name in favor of the suggestion, but goes quiet when no one else joins in. The rest of the Gladers are having mixed reactions; Frypan looks like he thinks Minho is the craziest shank in the world, and Newt's face… well, she tries not to laugh.
Gally, on the other hand, looks murderous.
"If you wanna throw the newbie a parade, that's fine," he shouts, and the din dies down again as Ash holds her breath for the next few moments to come. "Go ahead! But if there is one thing I know about the Maze, it's that you do not-"
He's interrupted by a familiar but unexpected sound; the Box alarm.
The Box is back.