CHAPTER 7

I pull my hand away from Newt and run toward Minho and Thomas.

'What happened?' I ask frantically.

Minho pants. 'This shuck-face got himself…'

'Stung, yeah I can see that.' I feel panic rising in me. 'Quick, let's get him to Clint.'

'Yeah.'

Newt takes Thomas from Minho, who pauses for a second. I look back at him and say, 'How did this happen?' I don't try to stabilize my voice.

'I don't know. I found him on the floor of the Maze in his Section. I was on my way back for the day when I saw him. I don't know how long he was laying there, but he looked awful when I found him.'

Minho and I catch up with Newt. Thomas' body hangs limp from Newt's arms. If I didn't occasionally see Thomas' chest rise and fall, I'd think he was dead. But he's breathing. He's breathing.

I can't be sure, but I think I hear Thomas mumbling something, so quiet that it's almost like he isn't making sounds at all, just moving his lips.

'Newt, stop,' I say. 'He's trying to tell us something.'

Newt stops walking. I put my ear close to Thomas' mouth.

'I… I had to,' he murmurs weakly. I pull back, surprised.

'What?' Minho asks, looking alarmed. 'What did he say?'

'He said he had to,' I whisper. 'But… what does that mean?'

We walk into the hut. Clint's jaw drops when he sees us, or really, when he sees Thomas. Immediately he scrambles for the Grief Serum.

'Lay him down over here.' Clint gestures to a nearby bed. Newt lays Thomas down carefully. With a sigh, Clint says, 'Okay, here we go.' He takes the Grief Serum and injects it into Thomas' bicep. The result is almost immediate. Thomas' body goes from limp to taught. He groans and begins to shake. Before I know it, he's screaming and seizing uncontrollably. His veins rise to the surface of his skin and turn purple and blue. His face turns ashy gray.

Suddenly I feel desperate. Watching Thomas laying there, screaming in pain, I can't handle it. I turn to Clint. 'What else can be done? Ice? Medicine?'

Clint shakes his head.

'Oh come on, he's in pain. We've gotta do more.' I look at Jeff, pleading for an answer, but he looks away, unable to meet my eyes.

Clint puts his hand on my shoulder. 'Grace. There's nothing else we can do. We give him the Grief Serum, he goes through a few days of pain, and then he recovers.'

Tears well up my eyes as Thomas lets out an ear-splitting shriek. 'But… he's in pain. There's… there's gotta be more we can do.'

'Grace, I need you to listen to me,' Clint says firmly. 'He's in pain, but he's going to live. I know it sucks. But Jeff and I have been doing this for a while. He's not the first Glader to get Stung.' Clint pulls me in for a hug. The tears in my eyes spill and I sob. 'It's okay, Grace. I promise, he'll be fine.'

At first I resist Clint's arms, but I give in, defeated. I dig my face into his shoulder and cry. I feel Jeff place a hand on my shoulder. After a while I pull away and leave the hut. I can't be here anymore. It's selfish, but I can't watch him suffer, not when there is nothing I can do.

I don't go back to my treehouse. I don't go anywhere in particular. I just walk. Anywhere but the hut.

I don't know what to do.

I don't know Thomas.

I've talked to him here once.

And yet… the dream.

I know we have a past. I don't know what that past is, but it was some sort of relationship. We were close.

Maybe that's why when he was writhing in pain I couldn't stand it.

I hate that he's in pain.

I hear a scream from the hut. It's Thomas. I'm far away, but I can still hear him.

I look around. I didn't even realize where I had wandered off to. I realize with a shudder that I'm in the Bloodhouse.

'Gross,' I mutter, looking around. I see bloody, slaughtered animal carcasses and wonder whether I'll ever enjoy Frypan's bacon again.

As if on cue, Frypan walks into the room. 'Grace?' He looks concerned.

'Oh, hey, Frypan.' I feel like I'm intruding. 'Sorry… I didn't mean to…'

Frypan shakes his head. 'Don't worry about it. You saw Thomas?'

I nod, fighting back tears.

'The first time you witness someone go through the Changing is always the hardest. I've been here a year now. It gets less traumatizing, but it's always hard.' Frypan looks at me apologetically. 'Thomas is strong. He'll recover. Shuck it, by next week he'll be back to Running, same as always.'

I nod again. He'll be okay. I know he will. I just… I don't want him to be in pain.

Frypan sits on the floor. He motions for me to sit next to him. We just sit together on the floor of the Bloodhouse for at least half an hour. After a while he stands up, reaches out his hand, and helps me to my feet.

'Now don't take this the wrong way,' Frypan grins, 'but please get out of my Bloodhouse, I've got some dinner to make. Tonight's special: cheeseburgers.'

Laughing, I say goodbye to Frypan and leave the Bloodhouse.

I've barely left the Bloodhouse when I see Newt running toward me.

'Grace,' he pants. All of a sudden I notice it's quiet. Thomas isn't screaming. 'Thomas is calm. No one ever recovers this fast. I… I don't get it.' He shakes his head. 'He's asking for you.'

My heart skips a beat. He's already recovering? He's asking for me?

'Okay,' I say. Newt and I run to the hut.

When we get to the hut I see Clint leaning over Thomas, dabbing his forehead with a wet cloth. I can't tell if the water on his forehead is from the cloth or from sweat. He's still shaking, but he isn't seizing like he was before.

'Thomas…' I whisper.

All of a sudden Thomas stops shaking. He looks at me and gasps. 'Grace.' He tries to sit up, but can't. 'I… remember.' He closes his eyes and mumbles again, 'I remember.'

I can't think. I can't breathe. He remembers?

I step closer. 'Thomas, what do you remember?'

He weakly reaches out and takes my hand.

'I… I remember you. I remember… us. Grace… I love you.'

His arm falls limp.