"You okay, buddy?" She asked, concerned.
Chuck was panting and sweating profusely as he struggled to follow the group. Eleanor had stayed a little bit behind so she could help him along but they had been running for an hour and the little boy was exhausted, his round cheeks tinted red from the effort.
The kid gave a nod but seemed too tired to speak.
She gave him a short smile and focused on her own breathing. She had never been gladder her past self had decided to get in shape. However, no amount of running in the Glade could have prepared her for what running the Maze was like.
It was suffocating, and dark, and mentally challenging; as they simply ran corridor after corridor, only to turn a corner and find yet another identical corridor. Dark grey concrete passed beneath their feet, ivy vines flying past them as the group sprinted with barely any light to guide their way but the small glimmer that managed to seep through the large walls around them.
Maybe, it would have been better if she'd known where she was going but she could only follow the group, not knowing how much longer they had left. And perhaps, it would have also been better if she hadn't been almost sliced in half the previous night. But hey! It's not like she had control over that.
She wondered if the boys who had remained in the Glade were okay. Would the Grievers have gotten there yet? Would they come at all?
They hadn't encountered a single monster since they set foot into the Maze and Eleanor's nerves were on edge, her courage flattering with each step. Every shadow, every foreign sound made her jump and gaze around, expecting a surprise attack from every direction. There had been no sign of danger, however. Although that didn't make her feel any more secure.
She spied as Minho, once again, stole a glance back to check on her. She gave him a thumbs up through the group of boys that separated them, wishing she could be with him upfront, but Chuck needed someone so she stayed there.
At least, if things got dangerous, they'd find their way to eachother. He had promised that.
"Hey, Teresa. How are you doing?" Eleanor questioned.
The Greenie was also having difficulties keeping up with the group but she had a focused look on her face and seemed determined. It was pretty impresive how well she was doing, considering she had been in a coma during most of her time there and, the rest, she had been imprisioned.
"Fine." Her answer came short.
"We're almost there." She lied, although she too wished it was true.
Another glance back to the kid behind her told her he wouldn't last much longer, and they were already falling significantly behind.
"Be right back." She let him know and fastened her pace.
Her body ached but she knew she could take it.
Passing through the Gladers, it took almost a whole minute for her to reach the front, panting.
"How much longer?" She questioned and felt embarrassed for sounding out of breath.
They rounded another corner of the never ending labyrinth.
"I don't think Chuck can keep up for much longer." She added.
"Not much." Informed Thomas.
Minho regarded her with worry. "Only a few minutes."
She nodded to him and slowed her pace once more, falling behind.
"Alright?" Newt asked as he passed her.
He was surprisingly ahead in the group, cosidering he supported a limp. But his pace seemed almost as fast as most of the runners.
"Yeah." She breathed out. "You?"
She remembered that the blonde had confessed to her how hard it was for him to go back to that place.
He nodded. Eleanor threw him what she hoped was and encouraging smile and squeezed his shoulder as she slowed down. She fell behind once again to reach her friends in the back.
Embarrassment crept up on her again. She wasn't doing as well as Newt and she felt irrationaly jealous. She shook that feeling off, it wasn't a competition. There were more importanting things happening than her feeling weak, as she tended to do.
"Almost there." She spoke as soon as she was within hearing distance. "Only a few more minutes."
Teresa sighed in relief but did not say anything, keeping her focus.
Chuck looked just about ready to pass out.
"C'mon buddy." She tried to encourage him. "You can do it."
She fell into step beside him, even if it meant falling even farther behind from the group. Her side hurt and her lungs were screaming.
Red appeared in her line of vision and she looked down to find a stain on her shirt. She breathed deeply, trying to calm herself.
She had pushed herself and wounded her pride and had idiotically reopened one of her cuts. She could also tell she was reaching her limit. Although, she knew deep down she was not to blame, she still felt the hot sense of shame. She hoped no one would notice.
But she had to check the damage.
She lifted her shirt slowly and peaked down. She had bled through her bandages and into her shirt, even she knew that wasn't a good sign. She had ignored it before but then and there, she could very clearly feel the stinging friction of cloth against open skin.
A wave of dizziness made her tear her gaze away. She wished with all her might Thomas and Minho had been honest because she didn't think she could last much longer.
Like an answer to her prayer, the group started to slow down until they finally came to a stop.
Eleanor tried to overcome the nausea and steady her breathing but there was no time to waste. They hadn't come across a single Griever on the whole way there and she didn't know if that was a good sign or a bad sign. But she was willing to bet on the latter.
In which case, she didn't want to go on without all her friends by her side.
She grabbed Chuck, who was crouched down, panting. Then, gestured to a winded Teresa to follow her. They made their way to the front.
The Gladers waited in complete silence as Thomas and Minho shared a look. They stood next to the corner that separated them from where, she guessed, their destination was.
For a couple of seconds all Eleanor could hear was her own laboured breathing as she tried to slow it down.
"Do you hear that?" She heard Minho say. The horrified look on his face made her stomach clench.
The older boy took a few steps and proceeded to peak around the concrete edge.
"Oh no." She saw, more than heard, his lips whisper as he quickly retreated, his back against the stone wall.
And suddenly, she heard it too.
Grievers.
But they sounded stronger, like they were getting closer, or coming to life.
Eleanor gasped in fear. There were many of them, the noises were unlike any she had heard before.
"There's twelve of them, maybe more." Minho informed the silent group that could only stare back at him, mirroring his horror. "They're... like- waiting for us."
Fear ran through them all like an electric current. Chuck held onto Eleanor for support. The girl could barely process what she was feeling. She had been so tired just a few seconds ago, and then, she was alive with terror. Her body buzzed, making her yearn to run far, to escape. But she couldn't move.
"Well," Newt dared to speak. He had made it to the front of the group. "We knew we'd have to fight."
He was holding his spear tightly, but the tremor in his voice and the twinkle in his gaze gave away just how scared he really was. The Gladers got a hold of their weapons like their life depended on it, because it did. Eleanor grabbed her big rusty knife.
The blonde was right. They had known they'd have to fight, but it was one thing to talk about it and another to actually run face first into a group full of killing machines.
Eleanor felt more scared than she had ever felt in her life, but this time, it wasn't for her own safety. Had they just dragged all these kids with them to be slaughtered and killed for nothing? Or could the way out really be there, through the gathered Grievers?
"Okay," Thomas started. He looked very nervous and Eleanor's faith in the plan flattered even more. "Okay... maybe they have already taken someone from the Glade, right? Why else would they just be sitting there-"
A loud whirring from behind cut him off. The kids spun around to find about six Grievers thudding through the corridor, spikes at the ready, stealy arms moving around. They were ready to attack.
A scream died in Eleanor's throat. They were doomed. She felt Chuck's fingers digging deeper into her arm.
Her mind raced as she unconciously took steps backwards. She wasn't the only one. The group seemed to have tightened and were moving slowly, turning the corner. Eleanor saw the the famous Cliff they had been looking for appear and, just like that, they were surrounded.
The Grievers advanced slowly from either side as the terrified teenagers continued to move away from them. Soon enough, the group had almost reached the edge and the monstruous machines had formed a united front surrounding them.
Why aren't they attacking?
Eleanor had the sudden realization that the plan had been a really bad idea. Seeing the Cliff behind her, she could tell the possibility of Thomas being right was so farfetched that there was no way it was true. How could there be hidden any type of invisible hole or doorway? It seemed completely impossible.
There was no way out. The Grievers kept advancing slowly. She guessed the monsters wouldn't attack, not when they could just corner them and make them fall to a certain death.
And just like that, they had ran out of space. The Gladers in the very back stopped before they could fall down and the whole group came to a halt.
To everyone's surprise, the Grievers stopped too.
Eleanor thought her heart would jump out of her chest, her heartbeats pounded in her ears. She was going to die. There seemed no possible way to get out of the situation. The group buzzed with anticipation.
Should they fight? Try to get through the barrier of Grievers?
No one dared to move.
The young girl could feel the buzz of adrenaline cursing through the bodies surrounding her. She inched closer to Minho until their arms touched. She needed to feel him there. Chuck continued to hold her arm.
She could somehow feel the tension in the group growing and growing-
Unconciously, she stole a glance towards Newt who was on the other side of Thomas. Their eyes met for a second, sharing the horror of the situation.
Suddenly, the bubble popped. Someone yelled from the front of the group, like a battle cry, and Eleanor saw a figure leap towards the wall of Grievers who had stood staring back at them, unmoving.
For a moment, a couple of them fell back from the weight of the boy as he came at them, spear pointed. She held her breath as it seemed, for a second, that he had actually done the monsters some harm.
That small sense of hope was shattered as a sharp-speared arm burst through the boy's torso, lifting him a few feet in the air.
Eleanor's gasp got lost in the screams as Will's face, painted with terrifying agony, appeared in their line of sigh.
Whiring erupted all around as the Griever's sprung into life. Leaving no time to process what was happening, the battle started.
The Gladers frantically moved around, pushing agaisnt one another, some trying to escape the Grievers, others trying to fight back in anyway that they could.
Eleanor was thrown about, Chuck's hold on her gone and Minho's reasuring presence vanishing.
In complete horror, she grabbed a hold of her weapon with both hands, raising it.
Her surroundings had turned into a blur of moving shapes and indecipherable sounds as she could barely catch glimpses of her fellow Gladers brandishing their weapons against gigantic mechanical arms in desperate attempts to save themselves.
Spears were being snapped around, like useless twigs.
The girl panicked, scanning around for her friends. Before she could locate any of them she caught sight of a Griever coming towards her. As the creature stared back at her she felt unable to move a single muscle.
She was so close to it, she could clearly see every furrow on its viscous skin, she could smell the putrid humid stench that emanated from the creature.
Neither of them moved. Eleanor's heart was beating extremely fast and she had forgotten how to breathe. The Griever, however, still wouldn't move, like it was waiting for her to attack first or it was just curious to see what she would do.
The terrified girl stared back at the creature. Was it not going to attack her?
Eleanor didn't dare to move in any way, afraid to disturb the momentary stillness of the creature. Around them, all sounds had blended together in static background noise.
"Eleanor!"
A scream broke the bubble and the girl whipped her head to the side instinctively. Before she could stop him or even mutter a single syllable to disuade him. Newt had already charged against the creature, a knife on one hand, a spear in the other. The tip of the spear hit the slimy flesh of the creature.
The Griever let out a loud screech and sprung into life. A metal arm swung the boy backwards a few feet. Newt's spear stayed inside the meat of the animal and his knife fell out of his hands as he hit the ground.
Eleanor didn't think twice and was on the move as the monster started to avance on the blonde completely disregarding her presence.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
What do I do?
She could only see the back of the creature as it blocked her view of Newt. Metallic arms, spikes and sharp knifes coming from inside the goey body. It seemed too protected, impenetrable.
Unless...
She heard Newt let out a loud yell and, before she could think about what she was doing, Eleanor had slid across the ground, her skin grating against the concrete.
Once under the creature, she could barely see anything, except the spiky feet of the Griever surrounding her. She wasted no time in figuring out the logistics or even coming up with a plan as she started stabbing her knife inside the creature. Once, twice, three times... With as much force as she could muster.
For a second, it seemed like what she was doing was pointless. The animal didn't even seem to have noticed anything.
Suddenly, all movement ceased.
Then, the sound of a motor shutting off. Even the sounds from outside the creature were muffled and the world was still for a split of second.
Eleanor realised her mistake too late.
The impact was greater than she could have imagined and the air was completely knocked out of her lungs. She couldn't breathe or see anything. The heavy gigantic monster crushing her form completely.
Oh, god.
I'm gonna die.
She tried to squirm, push, move out from below the sufficating weight but she could barely move her fingers, let alone any other part of her body. Her knife, which was still inside the flesh of the Griever was poking her right leg.
She had no air to breathe. She was starting to feel lightheaded.
This is it.
Out of all the possible ways to die, Elenor would have never imagined that would be it. She felt weridly okay with it, though. She was calm. At least she had taken one of those bastards down. She had done something she could feel proud of. Her only hope was that the others would save themselves, would find a way out.
That was her last thought as she felt her aching lungs.
Please, let them survive.
Air.
She could breathe again.
Air reached her lungs as she spluttered and coughed at the new sensation of breathing again.
Was she dead? Was this how being dead felt like?
Her whole body felt numb and... wet?
That wasn't right.
"El, El... C'mon."
She forced herself to open the her heavy eyelids as she felt herself being shaken.
Minho.
She could see him now. His eyes worriedly staring at her from above. His arms were covered in some green liquid.
The girl looked around trying to piece the pieces together.
She could see Newt and Thomas, kneeled next to her, covered in various degrees in the same substance. Newt gave a sigh of relief and she realised he had a nasty cut that was dripping blood through his cheek.
Then, everything made sense. The sounds around her reminded her they were in the middle of a battle. An unmoving body of a Griever laid a few feet from them.
She stared at them in awe. They had pulled her out.
Minho emited a low sound from the back of his throat as he hung his head down. Eleanor could see the tear tracks that adorned his cheeks. And, not caring in the slightless that she was covered in Griever's slime and possibly blood from head to toe, she sprung forward and hugged him with all the strengh she had. The sharp pain in her middle ignored for that moment.
"You saved my life." She stared at the three boys, amazed, as she untangled herself from Minho.
"You saved mine." Said Newt, equally in disbelief.
Something akin to a nervous laugh escaped Eleanor at the unbelievability of the situation. She had been ready to die. She had almost died.
A loud scream broke her reverie and made the group whip their heads around. Thomas was soon on his feet, ready to help whoever he needed to.
Eleanor, with Newt and Minho's help, stood up too; all of them alert once again.
All around them Gladers were fighting for their lives, and it looked like they were losing.
There were a few bodies of kids scattered across the ground, like inanimate dolls, their eyes opened but devoid of life.
Nausea came but she pressed it down. She couldn't focus on that.
Many of them were still alive.
Jeff and Clint battled against one of the creatures ahead of them. Zart and some Track-hoes fromed a united front against a group of Grievers. The Runners were going around the place, helping around, although they seemed to be doing more dodging than fighting.
Thomas had gone to help Teresa who seemed to be trying to make one Griever retreat from where her and Chuck stood. Eleanor felt glad Teresa was trying to protect the kid and she fell ashamed she hadn't been there for him.
Kids were falling here and there. Some getting back up, some crawling away. Others were already limping or grabbing onto wounded parts of their bodies.
They were losing.
They would all be slaughtered if things continued that course.
Eleanor knew what their last chance was. It didn't mean she liked it, but, she guessed, the idea of falling to her death was better than being sliced to pieces or swallowed by those monsters.
"We have to jump." She found her voice, trying to make herself be heard in the middle of the chaos.
Both boys looked at her with equally terrified expresions. Newt nodded.
Minho simply said, "Fuck."
That was their cue.
"Thomas!" The girl exclaimed as she ran towards said boy, her whole body aching.
The boy was shielding Teresa from the swinging spikes of the Griever. He didn't turn to look at her, she didn't wait for him to.
"We need to go, now!"
The boy nodded. "Get everyone to the edge! I'll be right there. Teresa, go with her-"
"But-" The brunette started.
"Go!" He insited as a spike came down toward him and he blocked it with his own knife.
Eleanor nodded, even though he couldn't see her, and grabbed Teresa.
"Chuck!" She called to the boy who stood a few feet behind.
"Take him to the edge. Now!" She ordered the other girl and as soon as she saw they were doing as they had been told, she turned.
She ran around telling everyone she could to retreat, trying to ignore the stabbing pain that was spreading through her from. The Grievers were not giving up the fight, the more the children fell back, the more they advanced.
"Clint! Jeff! C'mon!" Eleanor yelled to the last two boys as she too ran to join the newly formed group.
The Med-jacks glanced back towards her and started sprinting her way.
She watched in horror from her safer position as the monster started chasing after them. Clint ran straight ahead, not wanting to look back and he was soon by the Gladers' side. But Jeff had risked a glance back at the Griever.
Eleanor could do nothing but stare as the metal hand closed around the terrified boy and dragged him backwards. The young Med-jack was soon lost in the sea of Grievers that had immediately closed upon the group.
Clint exhaled as he got to the group, at the horrified looks of his friends he turned around and quickly realised what had happened.
His loud pleas for his best friend were something Eleanor would never forget in her lifetime.
No one had time to do anything as the danger grew nearer.
"Okay, everyone! We need to jump! Now!"
Thomas simply swung himself off the Cliff. The group watched as he fell through the air and then, he just... disappeared.
What just happened?
Could he have been right all along?
There was no time to think. Teresa jumped next and was soon gone.
Soon after, boys started jumping as quickly as they could, hoping to get away from the Grievers.
Eleanor could see Minho was waiting for her before he could jump himself. However, Clint didn't seem to be moving at all.
"Clint, we need to go." She touched his shoulder and tried to guide him. He didn't move. "Clint, c'mon. Please."
She grabbed him more firmly.
Only a handful of Gladers were left and the gigant monsters were starting to attack. She barely registered Newt and Minho fighting back, trying to win more time.
Zart was next to her then, grabbing Clint roughly. "C'mon buddy."
With his stronger grip, he moved the boy away from her and towards the edge. Eleanor nodded towards him, grateful. Her Keeper nodded back to her.
The two boys jumped and were both soon miraculously gone as if swallowed by the air of the Cliff.
The space had reduced considerably as Newt and Minho tried to control the Grievers before the kids that were left could jump. The remaining girl felt helpless as she stood, bare-handed with no weapon to help them.
"Eleanor, jump!" Newt ordered.
It was then when Eleanor realised there was someone else who hadn't jumped yet.
"Chuck, you go first. Go!" Eleanor said to the boy.
The kid seemed to be unable to move a muscle, alternating between facing the monsters or the void of the Cliff.
"I-I don't think I can." He whimpered.
"Don't look down, just jump." She tried to reason. They were really running out of time.
"Go with him." Minho managed to grunt as he dodged a needle going his way.
"But-"
"We'll be right behind you." Newt said.
Eleanor hesitated, she knew she had to do it but she couldn't bear the though of leaving them behind.
"El." Minho spoke, somewhat softly despite his circumstances. "It's okay. I'll see you on the other side."
She looked at him for a split of second, trying to comunicate everything she wished she could say. She knew he understood, somehow, because he felt the same way.
The girl grabbed the little boy's hand.
Here goes nothing.
"Ready?" She said trying to sum up all the courage she had left. "One. Two. Three!"
They jumped into the unknown.