"Uh, guys, are you sure this is a good idea?"

The Greenie inquires, a worried look dabbling his face. Chuck playfully slaps his shoulder, "It'll be fun!"

I disdainfully shake my head, scoffing as I reach for the door handle. Here is where the runners sleep. If one of them is a killer, hopefully, there might be some clues in here.

The Newbie shuffles from foot to foot, fumbling with his hands, "I think we would go, the sign says runners only."

My gaze rises to the sign above the door. 'Runners only' is deeply engraved in the wood.

Chuck smirks, "It'll be fine, loosen up a bit, Greenie. We're not gonna get caught."

"Famous last words," the new guy mumbles, hesitantly following as I enter the room.

Stagnant air combined with musty sweat fills the large room. Several rugged beds are scattered around the floor. Small tables are stationed at the side of each bed. A stream of light pours in through an open window at the other side, revealing speckles of dust floating in the air.

"See if you can find anything that might be important," I say, heading towards one of the bedside tables.

Chuck begins to rummage through one of the tables. He eagerly pops his head up, holding a bottle of hair spray, "Ha! So that's how Minho gets his hair like that. Do you think he'd mind if I borrowed some?"

"Yes, I think he would, Chuckie. Remember, we're not here to be noisy, or steal hair spray." I respond, rolling my eyes.

The Greenie nervously shuffles beside me, "Um, I think someone's coming."

I pause, "Calm down, no-one is coming, the runners are out right now. Hardly anyone comes in the Homestead, don't worry about it."

My words have no effect on him as he paces back and forth, constantly looking at the door. After a couple of minutes, he moves over beside Chuck while I continue to search.

Someone walks outside the door, sounding through the hallway. We freeze in place. No-one moves a muscle, as if hoping whoever it is will go away. Another minute passes. Suddenly, it creaks again as the person leaves, gradually getting quieter and quieter.

The Greenie sighs with relief, Chuck grabbing his shoulder, "See? Told you we wouldn't get caught!"

I squint at him, "Eh, I'm pretty sure I said that."

"Whatever..." He shrugs.

Instantly, the door flings open. My heart almost jumps out of my chest. Newt saunters in, his eyebrows raised.

Chuck chuckles, "We were just...erm...looking for...uh...the thing..."

Newt's face remains the same, unamused, "Slammer. Now."

"I told you it was a bad idea," the Greenie moans.

Chuck reaches his hands out of the bars of the slammer door, "Do you think we'll still get lunch? I'm starving, is anyone else starving?"

"Now that you mention it..." I groan, the empty pit in my stomach vastly increasing. The thought of sandwiches lightens my mood, "...maybe Fry will bring us a snack."

The new guy crawls over beside Chuck and me, "Guys, are you even listening?"

"Yes, I'm listening. It wasn't that bad of an idea..." I mumble half-heartedly.

"Tanya?" Gally's voice booms through the Glade, echoing around us.

I scurry to the door, poking my hands through the bars, "In here!"

He jogs over to the hatch, furrowing his immense eyebrows, "What are you doing in there?"

He momentarily pauses, his expression turning sour as he notices Chuck and the Greenie, "And what's that slinthead Greenbean doing here?"

I sigh, combing my fingers through my hair, "It's a long story, but we sort of broke in somewhere. I know it sounds bad, but we didn't have a choice, we had to ca-"

"We? You friends with this shank?" He growls.

The Greenie curls his fists, "What is your problem?"

Gally's eyes flare with anger, "I'll tell you my proble-"

"Gally!" I snap, glaring at him, "Calm down! It's no big deal, we'll be out of here soon enough. Now, why were you looking for me?"

He stops for a moment, his bitter scowl softening, "Jeff wants to speak with you, sounded important."

"Why couldn't Jeff just come himself?" I question.

He scratches the back of his neck, his cheeks flushing a bright red, "Uh, yeah, that was, well, he was, uh...busy,"

A slight smirk rises on my face. Eager to change the subject, he continues, "I'm gonna see if them shanks'll let you out of the slammer."

Nodding, I sink back down to the ground as he runs back to the Homestead. The Greenie scrunches his nose, wrinkling his forehead, "You like that guy?"

"He's not that bad once you get to know him, trust me." I sigh, cuddling into a corner of the room.

Chuck's voice reaches a tone higher than I thought was possible, "Wait, you're admitting it? You like Gally?"

I slap my forehead, "You two are the worst, you do realize that, don't you?"

Immediately a joyous smile stretches across the Greenie's face, "Guys! I remember my name! I'm Thomas!"

Thomas leaps to his feet, banging his head into the metal roof above him. A burst of laughter escapes my mouth. Rubbing the top of his head, Thomas winces, reclining back down again.

Chuck snorts as he reaches for his pocket. Pulling out a handful of sandwiches, he breaks it apart. Crumbs drop onto the floor as he passes Thomas and me one each, "Congratulations! I was gonna save this for later, but may as well have them now."

"You've had these the whole time?" I ask, nabbing the sandwich from his hands. Without delay, we begin to devour the sandwiches.

The metal hatch creaks as someone opens the slammer door, "C'mon out you bunch of slintheads."

Minho grabs my hand, hurling me out of the slammer. After getting the others out, he turns to me, "Jeff's in the Homestead so get your sorry butt over there before that Newt keeps you in here another day."

"Nice to see you haven't lost your charm, Minho," I remark.

He smirks whilst beginning to jog away, "See ya around, Shortie,"

"Shortie?" I mumble, my eyes shifting to Chuck, "Maybe he was talking to you..."

"You're resigning as a Keeper?"

Jeff stares into the distance, focusing on nothing in particular, "I can't do it anymore, with the bodies."

"I know that it is hard, but you can't just quit!" I plead.

He shakes his head, "You don't get it, you're new. It's not just random strangers for me, these are my friends. Who do you think was the med-jack before you?"

His words are laced with pain. In a wavering voice, he continues, "I'm sorry, it's just too much."

I nod my head, "I understand."

Clearing his throat, he proceeds, "You'll be informed about your responsibilities and privileges. I've already told some of the others. As of tomorrow, you will be a Keeper."

The words hit me like a ton of bricks. Without hesitation, Jeff walks away. Questions race through my mind. What are my responsibilities? Can I do them?

I exit through the door to the Glade, ambling towards the Deadheads.

After a couple of minutes, I arrive. Branches claw at me as I stumble into the forest. Steadying myself on a tree, I try to relax and think about what this new job will entail.

An exasperated sigh flows from my lungs. I slouch against the tree, running my hand through my hair.

A silent snap of a twig echos through the trees. Birds scamper away from the branches. I dart around. Something lurks behind the darkness of the trees. Adrenaline pumps through my veins, radiating around my body. My eyes search in all directions, but still, nothing.

I lean my back against the tree, dreading to look behind it. I twist around, jumping in front of the tree. No-one is there. A flood of relief overwhelms me.

A glint of metal flashes before my eyes. Instantly, a sharp object tears at my flesh, crimson blood oozing from my stomach. Blood streams through my fingers as I fall backwards. Everything begins fading into black...