Her hands shake, clutching hold of a scalpel from the table. She inches towards the door, pushing against the handle. A soft wind blows through the room as the Greenie bolts out the door; sprinting away from the med-bay. I inch towards the door with a slight limp.
The girl dashes towards a rickety ladder and climbs up the lookout tower near the East Door. A handful of Gladers stare in awe, the rest shouting in panic. A groaning pain shoots up my abdomen as I try to get closer. Clutching onto my side, I push forward, joining the small crowd of Gladers forming at the bottom of the ladder.
Immediately, a small stone rains down on the group, then another and another.
"What's going on? Is that-" Newt inquires, cut off by another stone landing beside him.
I thrust my arms in front, attempting to block the coming rocks. "The Greenie? Yeah..."
Gally's head pops up from the others as he shouts an indistinct phrase. I sneak up beside him, careful to avoid the incoming rocks. As I approach, his words become clear. "Quit throwing those or else-"
A smaller stone thunders down on the group, knocking Gally smack dab on the forehead.
Simultaneously, Thomas pushes through the crowd, scrambling to the base of the wooden tower. Gally retreats into the host of people, nursing his head. Drew, one of the other builders, shades Gally from the incoming rocks with a withered plank of wood.
"Thomas, wait-" I shout to no avail. Thomas hoists himself up the ladder, beginning his climb. The rocks dissipate as Thomas vanishes, reaching the top of the lookout tower. Silence spreads throughout the Gladers.
After a long while, Thomas' voice emerges from the tower, "Just give us a minute, guys."
Gradually, the crowd wears thin, Gladers leaving to return to their jobs. As I turn to leave, Gally approaches, still massaging his forehead.
"You okay?" I ask, pointing to the bruise already beginning to form. "You should put a wet towel on it, might help keep down the redness."
"She hit me..." Gally mumbles as if still in shock. "...with a rock!" He squints, averting his eyes to the tower. "She's crazy!"
"Crazy or no, she might be able to tell us something about the note from the Creators. Maybe Thomas will have more luck getting through to her." I respond.
"Yeah," he growls haphazardly.
"Why don't you come to the med-bay, get that checked out. They might be up there for a while." I state, running my hand through my hair.
Before he can reply, Thomas appears behind him, his face void of expression. He glances to the Deadheads, then back at me.
"What's wrong?" I inquire.
Gally's eyes shift to him, boring into Thomas. "Spit it out, Greenie."
Thomas creases his brow, handing me a crumpled sheet of paper. "The girl, Teresa-"
"She remembers her name already?" I ask, dumbfounded by his statement.
Thomas sighs. "Yeah, uh, she said she found this in the box when she woke up, before the coma."
A word lies hastily written in the middle of the paper, "Newt." The note crinkles as I unfold it, careful not to tear the paper.
Gally peaks his head closer to the note. "What does it say?"
Cursive writing, which is starkly different from the outside of the paper, adorns the inside, creating a small paragraph.
"One more, that was the deal, then you get out, but not before. You almost got caught with the last one, maybe you should have. No more mistakes, no more excuses. Another death, then you will get your freedom."
"Wh..." my voice trails off, disappearing almost entirely as Gally snatches the paper.
His eyes scan the note. After a brief moment, he ruffles his brows. "What does it mean?"
"Who wrote this?" I mutter, somewhat in a trance.
Gally's nostrils flair, his eyes widening. "Nevermind that, look who it's for!"
He shakes his head. "Newt ain't the nicest shank to be around, but I can't believe he'd-"
"Kill someone?" Thomas interjects, predicting the end of Gally's sentence. "Didn't Rick get banished for that?"
"Nick, you slinthead," Gally snaps.
"Someone's trying to frame him," I state, grabbing the note from Gally. "He wouldn't do this, he couldn't."
"Hey, yous!" familiar voice booms across the Glade. Newt limps towards us, his brow creased.
His hands rub together profusely as he approaches. Newt clenches his jaw, pausing before he begins to speak. "You guys seen Minho or Alby knocking about?"
I speedily shove the note in my pocket. "Um, no...why?"
"They're not back yet, from the Maze. They went to check out a dead griever or something of the sort, should've been back two hours ago." Newt responds, his voice wavering ever so slightly. "It's not long 'till the gates close."
Gally opens his mouth as if to speak. Immediately, I shoot him a glare, now is not the time for an interrogation. If Alby and Minho are missing, who knows what might have happened?
He stops, hesitating for a moment before he continues, "No, haven't seen them."
"How long?" Thomas interjects, "Before the gates close I mean."
Newt shrugs while shaking his head. "20 minutes?"
Thomas shifts his gaze to the doors. "Minho will find his way back, right?"
"Always has done," Gally states.
Hanging his head, Newt begins jogging over to another handful of Gladers nearer the East Door, presumably to question them too. Thomas glances to Newt, then back to the doors. "Shouldn't we go and see if they need our help?"
"Minho knows what he's doing, Greenie," Gally assures him, although a part of me doubts whether he is talking to Thomas or himself.
"Even if we wanted to, there's no saying were in there they are, and, with it so close to dusk, chances are we'd be trapped in the Maze. No-one ever survives that, not at night." I respond. "There's nothing we can do."
Thomas nods, a gloom expression resting on his face. After mere seconds, he begins ambling back to the lookout tower.
A small gathering of Gladers surround the East Door, eagerly awaiting Minho and Alby's return. A swelling of heat rises in my chest, worry twisting my stomach. What if something happened? Will they make it back in time, or risk a night out in the Maze? Could they already be dead?
I clench my fists in a feeble effort to silence my mind. "We should, um, probably go over and wait for when they come back..."
Gally nods, already beginning to make his way to the Door. Even with my crutch, it takes a lengthy period to arrive at the door with each step sending a mild pain rippling through my right side.
Murmurs echo through the growing crowd, each Glader staring into the dark corridor. The impending walls smother the dim light above the Maze, drowning out and trace of sunlight remaining in the sky.
A cold chill sweeps through the walls. The only audible voices are those of the Gladers themselves, echoing off the stone. Gloomy shadows rest over the ground, but no sign of Alby or Minho.
The loud crunch of the stone walls clashes as the Doors begin to shut. Suddenly, two shadowed figures appear in the distance, but something is wrong. They're moving too slow.
Shouts erupt from the group, indistinctive from one another. Each passing second the doors grow nearer to closing. One figure is hunched over, dragged up the corridor by the other. The doors draw closer, moments away from closing. There's not enough time.
Newt's voice pierces through the rabble, "Tommy don't-"
Instantly, Thomas bolts through the crowd. Hands reach out to grab him but to no avail. The gap in the gates shrinks smaller and smaller. He rips through the gates, somehow squeezing past the walls.
The shouting stops. Chuck's voice rises from the silence. "Thomas, h-he's gone."