Newt was running with Minho again the next morning like they always did, but it didn't feel the same. Had his shoes always felt so heavy? He was quite certain that breathing wasn't supposed to be this hard, even though they'd been running for an hour.

Calvin hasn't been there that morning.

He hadn't come into the Glade when the Doors opened. He hadn't been waiting around the corner. He hadn't dropped his pack, at least not anywhere Newt and Minho had run so far. As far as they knew, he had disappeared. Or a different pair of Runners had already found his body.

"Maybe he just got hurt," was what Newt said instead.

He half expected Minho to scoff at his hopeless optimism, but he said, "Naw. Shuck-face is probably waiting until later to come back just to give us a good scare."

If he's trying to scare us, Newt thought bitterly, it's working a bit too well. Where the bloody hell are you, Calvin?

…

It was almost time to head back when Minho stopped, simply stopped running in the middle of the Maze so abruptly that Newt only managed to avoid crashing into him by diving into the ivy-coated wall. Before Newt could demand an explanation, he saw it too.

A streak of blood leading around the corner.

The Runners exchanged an uneasy glance. Then Minho's face hardened into his usual tough-guy mask and he strode over to the intersection and looked. After a moment, Newt began approaching. He couldn't see Minho's expression from this angle, and it took all his will to not run around the corner just to be done with the agony of waiting. He couldn't be desperate. Desperation was too close to helplessness, and in Newt's opinion, there was nothing worse than feeling helpless. That was why he ran; anything was better than waiting for someone to come save them.

Bracing himself, Newt looked around the corner.

Oh.

Bloody hell, Calvin.

…

Alby had been berating a clumsy Track-hoe for dropping a shovel on his foot when he heard a commotion at the Doors. He looked up just as Minho and Newt stumbled in. His heart skipped a beat as he took in their defeated posture, their dragging feet. With a final scowl at the Track-hoe, he ran to the Doors to hear whatever dark news had brought the pair back early.

A small crowd had already gathered, but the Gladers cleared the way to let Alby through. Minho was leaning over, hands on his knees, struggling to catch his breath. Newt was fumbling with a water bottle. He kept trying to unscrew it, but his sweaty hands couldn't get a grip on it. Alby took the water bottle and opened it without saying a word. As Newt drank, he asked softly, "Calvin?"

Newt passed the water bottle to Minho and shook his head fiercely, as if trying to push something from his mind. "Dead. Very dead."

Alby closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of the ground beneath his feet. Calvin, dead? It felt beyond impossible. Calvin had always been there. He knew the Maze better than anyone else, he'd built most of the model himself. He talked to every Glader as if they'd been best friends for years. Alby had even let himself hope the night before that he'd come back; after all, if anyone could survive the Maze at night, it was Calvin.

Evidently, he had been wrong.

A hand on his shoulder. He kept his eyes closed a moment longer, pretending while he still could that it was Calvin, but he knew it couldn't last. He opened his eyes. Newt gave him a strained half-smile. It'll be okay.

Alby nodded, glancing at his watch. "It's too late to send Baggers out," he mumbled, quietly so that only Newt could hear. Then he turned to the small crowd, which had grown since he'd forced his way through it. "We'll have a Gathering tonight," he said, loud and clear. "But there's still work to be done if we want to eat. Go on, nothin' to see here." He shooed the others away, until finally, it was just him, Newt, and Minho.

"Are you two okay?" he asked them in a low voice.

Minho straightened up. "Yeah, I'm shucking fabulous," he snapped, jogging towards the woods.

"Let him be," Newt sighed.

"As long as he shows up tonight. We need him there." He stared into the trees. Minho didn't come back. "Should we… someone should tell Ben. Before the Gathering," he clarified, though he knew there was no need.

Newt nodded slowly. "I can, I guess. He'll be in the cabin." He forced a laugh. "Maybe Minho will tell him."

There wasn't much else to say, so Alby just patted his friend on the shoulder. "See you tonight, then."

AN: I have returned! Sorry if anyone was disappointed that there was no gory description of Calvin's remains. I don't really want to write that because I liked Calvin a lot and I'm emotionally exhausted enough as it is. Thanks for reading, I'll try to keep uploading as much as possible (without sacrificing too much of whatever quality there is to begin with), which shouldn't be too hard since I'm doing everything from home nowadays and spring break is coming up. Stay safe, everyone!