The Labyrinth: Chapter Four
Chuck met for my third day of jobs. His face beaming at the entrance of the room as he fondly told me of the fun that we would have that day.
I had hoped for Newt again. I enjoyed his company yesterday and butterflies soared in my stomach that they woke me up early in excitement. They soon fell flat when I opened the door to Chuck.
I couldn't show him my devastation. I was slightly disappointed. No matter how much I'd rather have the golden-hair boy, I had no problem with the young boy. Even though he talked, he wasn't terrible company. Not like some of the boys here. I just wanted to spend another day with Newt. There was something about him that made me feel…
"You coming," Chuck demanded. My eyes widened at the reaction. Where had this come from? He darted from the corridor and flew down the stairs. Stamping his short legs every step that he took. I followed him as fast as I could. He knew where we were going and I didn't want to lose him.
As we exited the Homestead, I spotted the golden-haired boy by the treeline in a conversation with Alby.
He's avoiding you.
I slowed down my pace to an amble, my eyes fixated on him. He hadn't noticed me yet.
You annoyed him yesterday.
He doesn't like you.
Already I had ruined a connection with someone. How was that even possible? He had sent Chuck to deal with me because he thought of me as a burden. I felt a lump form in my throat and a heavy sink in within my chest. There was a warmness in my face, but not the good kind. The corners of my eyes felled with wetness, the feeling causing a pain in my chest.
Don't cry here. Not in front of them.
"He said he was busy," Chuck said appearing out of nowhere. "Said I could help cause I was good. But only for today. I still haven't perfected my time management."
I raised any eyebrow at him, trying my best to keep the tears contained.
"I dunno," Chuck said with the shrug of his shoulders. "They don't tell me much. Only what I have to do."
The feeling never left.
"Why you sad?" Chuck said with a puzzled look. "He didn't seem to thrilled to do his other tasks. He practically seemed annoyed at it. I reckon he's having more fun dossing off with you then actually doing his job."
"Really?" I let slip.
I hadn't register I had spoken until I caught Chuck's face. His face widened in elated surprise and happiness. "I knew you spoke."
The young boy couldn't help himself from grinning, his smile permanently stuck on his face. I wrinkled my nose and almost regretted doing it again. Chuck went to speak again, this time to the nearest person when I grabbed hold of him and whispered very softly in his ear, "keep this between us, otherwise I will never talk again and you'll look like a fool."
Chuck leant back, the smile on his face morphing into a constipated look as he absorbed what I said. I hadn't meant to threaten the kid. I just wanted to be left alone. Like I had told Newt yesterday.
I kept staring at Chuck then raised an eyebrow. He shut his mouth fast and nodded. I smiled at the agreement. I knew Chuck would keep our promise. The one thing I could guarantee on that he was desperate for friends. And so was I.
Chuck and I arrived outside of the Gardens where we met Zart, the Keeper of the Track-Hoes. According to Chuck, they were the ones that did all the 'plantie things' (an actual quote). Seeing who was a Track-Hoe, I could tell what he meant. Most were covered in dirt one way or another. Zart, a tall black-haired boy who strangely smelled like soured milk, stood waiting for us leant up against a tall spade. The way he held himself. He gave of the role of consistently being bored
He rolled his eyes when he saw Chuck bounding beside me and hid his frustration. Not very well. It seemed I was right about the friend part.
Zart lifted his spade and pointed it at Chuck. "I ain't havin' a repeat of last time," he stated to Chuck without elaborating. "The only reason you are 'ere is cause I have no choice in the matter. Go do your Slopper jobs and keep outta the way."
Chuck started to protest, his face screwing up in what I perceived must have been small-kid version of anger. Zart straightened himself to his full height, towering over both of us. I placed a firm hand on Chuck's shoulder and forced him back slowly. Chuck glanced up at me, almost sadness in his eyes. He wanted the responsibility to take care of me and this dude was taking it away from him. I gave him a lopsided smile hoping that he understood what it meant.
He ducked his head, grumbled a few words under his breath and stomped off to whatever jobs he had to do for the Gardens.
That left Zart and I alone.
"I know you don't talk, Greenie," the Keeper started. "But I know you listen. I'll tell ya what to do and we'll get on like shanks on fire. Agree?"
I nodded. I just wanted the day to be done with. From the morning I knew that this wasn't for me. Being round this type of setting felt familiar, but I knew that it was for a different reason. Not actually working there.
The day was long and hard. I discovered the Zart was a boy of few words. Like myself, he didn't speak much. He showed the ropes and what to do until he felt that he could leave me to carry on with his own work. Weeding, pruning an apricot tree, digging lines into the dirt. I didn't love it. I didn't hate it. It just felt … I couldn't explain it. The normality of it. The way I switched off doing everything, I almost fell into a trance. Like I was on autopilot and had done stuff like this before. I still didn't like the job, but it brought a sense of familiarity that I didn't realise I needed until that second.
Lunch came and went and there was still no sign of Newt. Chuck and myself were isolated off onto our own picnic table. Jeff came to say hello but was quickly whisked away before he could even sit down. Everyone ignored us. Keeping their distance.
Whatever Chuck had said that morning had lost its effect. Why was he still avoiding me? Surely, he would have come to talk to me to ask about my day? Surely?
You shouldn't have spoken. You should have stayed quiet.
"How's your day?" I asked Chuck. He seemed down. Not a word was said to me from the young-boy. Knowing him in a short period of time, I could already tell that was unusual for him to remain silent this long.
He peeked up from his food, swallowed and said, "I wish they would actually let me do what I was supposed to do. Newt said I was supposed to help. Zart's not listening to him and making the whole day stink."
I shrugged. "Well the day is half over. Tomorrow will be another."
"You say that," he mumbled. "Every day feels like the same. You're the only exciting thing that has arrived here."
I ignored his comment and finished my food. We both cleared our plates and returned to the Gardens where Zart gave us more to do. This time Chuck was placed nearer me. This he was a bit happier about.
The day dragged on. Yanking out large clumps of weeds became an increasingly mindless task. My arms ached from the relentless hard work. My knees sore from being on them all day. Chuck tried to make conversation, but it fell flat every time. Either from me not responding or him not thinking of something to say to reply.
"This stinks," I said to the lump of dirty weeds I had spent the past five minutes yanking from the ground. I threw it to the bucket behind me and shuffled forward. I leant back on my heels for a breath and wiped my brow. Even though it wasn't hot, I still felt the sweat in various places. I knew I smelled.
"It ain't that bad," Chuck commentated from his job. "At least you haven't been placed yet."
I rolled my eyes. "Give that two weeks and I'll end up with you."
Chuck faced me, opened his mouth the respond but was cut off by a booming, ringing alarm that sounded from all directions. I clamped my gloved hands to my ears, looking around as the siren blared, my heart about to thump its way out of my chest. Chuck, however, wasn't as shocked with the loud noise as I was. He appeared … confused. Surprised. The alarm clanging through the air.
"What's going on?" I asked Chuck as I rose to stand next to him. Relief flooded into my chest as I noticed that the boys didn't think the world was going to end. The unexpected was getting a bit tiresome.
"Just the Box," Chuck said. He returned to his job without a second glance. "They come weekly. It'll probably be supplies as they already sent you up. Must have thought we needed extra stuff, probably cause you caused stuff before you entered. Cause you know you came covered in blood."
"Oh." I felt dumb. No one else had reacted like I did. They carried on with their normal tasks as if nothing was happening.
"Don't worry." Chuck smiled and winked at me. Well, winked was a kinder word to use. "I was the same when I heard it first. It only lasts for about another minute or two. Then in about half an hour it arrives."
"Never wink like that again Chuckie," I mused. I turned my back and went back to my weed pulling. It was nothing to be scared off. My thumping heart could return back to normal.
"Only Newt calls me Chuckie." I turned my head and looked up to Chuck with confusion. He was staring down at me with big eyes. "You know you both sound the same. You know that? I thought you sounded like us … shanks. But you don't. You sound like Newt. Well almost. There's something odd about the way you say things. Like in a different way to him. Almost the same–"
"Alright," I cut Chuck off. "I get you're point. I sound different. Thanks, something more to add to the list."
"It's not bad," Chuck tried to plead, dropping bits of his job onto the floor. He scrambled to pick them up, causing more mess to be made. His curls flew over his face as he struggled to keep them back. I huffed, letting go of the weed I had very little intention of pulling and helped him pick up the things that he had dropped.
I paused. "Did you say I came covered in blood?"
Chuck stopped what he was doing. "What?" he asked dumbfounded.
"Earlier," I continued. "You said I came covered in blood. How do you know that?"
"Well when Newt carried you back in, I saw it. There was blood all over your shirt, in your hair, down your face. There were loads on his shirt as well when he came back out of the Homestead after he dropped you off."
"Newt carried me in," I inquired, it sending my thoughts spiralling.
"Yeah he did," Chuck clarified with enthusiasm. "He wouldn't let anyone near you. Got really snippy at Gally when he tried to help."
"Must have been a scene," I mumbled, still trying to imaging that happening.
A muffled boom ended our conversation short.
I glimpsed over to the Box to see the ugly potato-nose and his crew crowding the top, ready to move the supplies out. It was odd watching it from this angle. Only a week ago I had been in the other position waiting my fate as I slowly edged up that terrible shaft.
One week.
It had been that long.
It had felt like a lifetime ago since I arrived.
A few of the Gladers jostled with each other as they waited for the doors to open. Chuck had informed me that it took a few moments for them to open after the elevator arrived. A couple burst into rowdy laughter, with two in particular tightly wound in each other's arms as they play fought.
"They only seem tough," Chuck sighed. He had spotted me watching the group. "But I know they cry. I've heard at least one of them."
It was difficult to catch what they were saying. But luckily for Chuck and I, actions speak louder than words. A chorus of crise erupted from the group after potato-nose had swung open the large doors. The gardeners around us turned their heads at the commotion. Clearly this wasn't something of the usual. A few Gladers from the other side dropped their tools and came running over to see what had caused such an up cry.
Chuck nearly dropped his to go see, but I grabbed hold of his shoulder before he went any further. Something didn't sit right and I didn't want him to be caught up in the excitement until I knew for sure that everything was okay. I also didn't want to be left on my own since Newt had abandoned me so quickly. I wanted at least one friend to stay.
Our questions were finally answered when a tall figure broke free from the group and bolted. It seemed that his destination was one of the closest Doors. Unlike in my escape, the boys stood by and watched. A few even pointing and laughing at the boy who was running. Their laughter only increased when he tripped over his feet and face planted the ground. Some clutched their sides as the excitement became too much.
Now stood by Chuck, I whispered quietly, "What does that prove?"
"I dunno," Chuck confessed. "Only one Greenie comes a month. There can't be two." Chuck leaned in closer to me and whispered, "What did you do?"
I crossed my eyebrows together and said, "don't blame me, my memory dates back to a week ago."
"What's that going on over there?" Zart questioned as he stood by us. The other gardeners had walked closer in to see the action. Zart had been further back, seemingly not interested in whatever was going on.
"New Greenie," Chuck told him, pointing at the boy who was still on the floor.
"Greenie?" Zart repeated. "Thought they came once a month."
Chuck shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno, ask Gally if ya want answers."
Zart glared at Chuck and grumbled "Whatever" as he moved on from us. The boys here, some of them were not the nicest beings to be around.
Chuck and I stayed planted in the Gardens as we watched what happened next. Alby had walked to the boy on the ground and picked him up from the floor. I could see from his arm movements that he was given some sort of speech to the new kid … Greenie. It didn't take perfect vision to see that the boy was scared. The way he stood away from Alby, the darting of his head and the fiddling of his fingers. Newt had joined them, arriving a few moments after. A warm feeling flushed inside of me at the sight of him. I swallowed, hoping that this would calm it down.
A few moments passed, and it seemed that Newt was successful in negotiations. If you called a quick handshake and a pat on the back successful.
Alby, who had returned back to the Box, barked orders at the nearest group of Gladers. They went running off to the nearest store cupboard.
"What do you think is happening there?" I asked Chuck. I nodded my head at Alby who seemed to be staring intently into the Box. He shrugged his shoulders without a reply. We continued to watch. The Greenie was with Newt. Why was Alby intent on staring down a hole?
The boys returned, with what looked like handfuls of rope in their arms. A few more boys joined Alby around the Box, intent on seeing what the Leader had seen. He shooed them away with a few commands, and they listened scattering away from his anger.
We weren't the only ones curious now. More of the Gladers had stopped what they were doing and joined the small crowd that formed in the area. Something interesting was happening.
Alby took one end of the rope from ugly potato-nose boy and lowered himself into the Box. Chuck, I and the other gardeners waited patiently to see why the Leader had gone in.
We waited.
The potato-nose boy's command from above and a few grunts later unveiled the truth. Out of the Box was dragged a motionless body of a boy.
I heard Chuck audibly gasp. The Gardeners around me whispered with each other.
This clearly was not normal.
"Rachel? Rachel?"
The boy sat up and pointed to the new boy still next to Newt.
"Thomas is that you? Where's Rachel, Thomas? Where is she?"
The boy stood up, his head wildly snapping around as he attempted to figure out what was happening. Alby moved closer to the boy. His hands stuck out in protection. The boy continued in his wild frenzy of spinning. His eyes not resting on one thing for long. Until they landed on me. I never saw what emotion his face twisted into, but the way he darted from the Box straight for the gardens screaming "you!" at the top of his lungs didn't sit well with me. The closer he got, the more that I realised he was heading straight for Chuck and I. Chuck scrambled back bringing me along with him.
Before he could get any closer, his bloody head snapped to the side and he crashed into a heap on the ground.
Some of the Gardeners dropped their tools and raced over to the boy. They japed him with their foot, seeing if he would wake up. Alby joined not long after. Huffing and puffing at the situation. He barked a few commands at the Gladers behind him and stormed away to the Homestead in a fury passion. He waved his hand a few times in anger and brushed past a group of Gladers that happened to get in his way. I knew that Alby had a temper, but even I didn't get that reaction out of him. The Homestead was his destination. Two Gladers followed behind him with the boy in between them.
Newt, on the other hand, seemed to have a clearer head on him. He had remained with the new boy, talking intently with him after that scenario.
He doesn't care. He's only doing a job. You mean nothing to him.
My best guess was that he was trying to calm the boy down. It was confusing, the first few moments of waken. It was more confusing seeing it from another perspective. From what I gathered after ten minutes of watching the two, nothing out of the ordinary had happened for that particular boy. The kid hadn't bent over in pain yet, neither collapsed onto the floor. He was awake, talking, and the only thing different, very confused.
A heart-wrenching scream cut through the Glade. I jumped and stumbled into Chuck. We both stared at the Homestead.
Ben had been recovering … not so well. I wasn't told very much, but I heard a lot outside of my door. Newt, Jeff, Clint and Alby all seemed worried about him. Even when I spent the day with Jeff, he constantly kept going out of the room to check on the boy and bringing little glasses of liquid with him all the time. Jeff had mumbled that there was an infection brewing, but I sensed that there was more to it.
Throughout the day, Ben was silent. At night, he's groaning could be heard through the thin walls. Not enough to keep me awake at night, but enough to make my stomach churn. Whatever had happened to him wasn't pleasant. Something that I hoped I would avoid the whole time I lived here.
Newt followed closely behind Alby into the Homestead, leaving the new kid alone in the Glade.
Chuck put down his job and raced after the kid. He ran so he stood in front of the kid, blocking him from following the leaders into the Homestead. There wasn't much to the boy. His dishevelled sandy brown hair was swept to one side as if he had just come from a very windy area. Like a few of the boys in the Glade, he had an athletic build built for this place.
A whistle behind me caught my attention. Zart had returned to his work and directed me to do so also. All the excitement of the day and still I had to continue with work. There was no stopping here in the Glade. I screwed my nose at him and went back to my pulling of weeds. I didn't catch much of the conversation between the pair. I overheard Chuck's comment "I'll take care of you."
The kid glanced at him, then brushed passed the little hand stuck out his way. I laid the weed to rest and leant back on my heels. Chuck only huffed, turned on his heel and trotted beside the new boy trying to keep up with him. I could see that Chuck was talking by the way that his hands moved, but the boy refused to acknowledge him until I heard very clearly "I don't need friends." With that statement, the boy opened the sun-faded door and entered the Homestead.
Chuck could be annoying. He was young and trying to find his way in this crazy place that we found ourselves in. We all were. But there was a fine line between polite and damn right mean. And that kid did not know where that line was currently. My bet that he would be hanging round the potato-nose kid and his crew soon, joining in with all the nastiness that lurked here.
Chuck's shoulders deflated at the rejection. He dipped his head and sullenly walked back to the Gardens. When he returned near me, his cheeks were slight pinkish colour and his face pouting. He snatched his job from the ground and started back up again.
"He's an arse, worst one yet," I told him. Chuck didn't look up, he carried on with what he was doing. He sniffed and wiped his nose with the end of his sleeve. He then wiped the corner of his eyes.
"No one here takes me seriously," he whispered. "They all treat me like an idiot or an annoyance."
"They're just jealous," I said. "Cause they're all boring people who all have their own ego's stuffed high up their butts."
Chuck snorted, causing himself to choke from the reaction. The closet boy to us looked up from his work and glared our way. Mumbling a few things under his breath.
"Well, either way Gally will sort him out," Chuck said with glee. "That will be his punishment for being so mean."
"Whose Gally?" I asked him. I was still learning everyone's names and this one seemed familiar. So familiar I took a mental bet on who Chuck was going to say.
"You know, the Keeper of the Builders."
Still confused.
Chuck waved his hand to the Box. "You know, the one with the weird nose and really ugly teeth. The one that opened the Box."
"Oh." I nodded in affirmation, the immediately scrunched my nose in disgust. He had a name. Ew.
"That's how I feel." Chuck returned to his job, hacking at parts of it to get his frustration out. "It will serve him right. At least you had an excuse when you knocked me down on the first day?"
"Huh?" I threw the weed into the basket, spraying bits of dirt everywhere.
"I spent hours organising that box, for it to be destroyed in a matter of moments." Chuck exaggerated with his arms. "That's a mistake. He's just downright mean."
"Well, sorry for that," I told him, continuing to pull weeds.
"Whatever," Chuck muttered. "Tell me your name and I'll forgive you."
I threw the weed in the bucket and missed when Chuck asked me his question. I leant back on my heels again and stared at him. He almost had a grin on his face. He knew what he was asking. He knew what he wanted. "You're a crafty one."
He shrugged. "Since you talk, you must know your name." He leant up against his job and waited for my response.
"Who's to say I don't know?" I rebuked, hoping that the topic would drop. I just about told Newt what was my name was, and Jeff knew by accident. I wasn't sure if I wanted him to know. Though I talked to him, I didn't trust him to keep my name to himself. It was the only thing that I still had to myself, despite two people knowing. I crossed my arms at him and waited him out.
Chuck smiled this time and copied my stance. "You scowl at anyone that calls you Greenie or Newbie."
I huffed. I knew he had me. Chuck hadn't called me Greenie in a while. It was a term I started to hate. They all whispered it. I could hear it when I walked past. It annoyed me. But at the same time I was causing it. I couldn't figure what was stopping me from telling them off. I just had nothing in me to say anything. I think I was scared of something. What? Well, someone had to tell me as it was starting to bugging me.
"Fine," I sighed. "If it gets out, I'll … I'll … tie you to the tree and leave ya."
Chuck's eyes widened. He dropped his job to the ground and clapped in glee. I beckoned him closer. He stumbled to me and bent down. I hesitated before I whispered my name to him. Chuck leant back and smiled at me. His grin touched ear to ear, showing off his misaligned teeth.
He nodded and scanned the Glade. He stood up, placing his hands on his hips and stared at the Gladers. He stood proud. He now had a secret that (in his eyes) only he knew. I'd give him the moment. The boy needed it.
Chuck faced me. "Now we're both not Greenie's," he pronounced. "They we'll have to call us by our names."
"Chuckie," I warned him with a raise of the eyebrow. "It's not for you to go round tellin' people. Otherwise I'll go find some rope now."
Chuck waved his hands in protest and pleaded against me. The same boy that had been disturbed early yelled at him. Chuck uttered an excuse which earned him a mumbled foul word thrown his way. I hushed him down and carried on with my job.
After a long, exciting day in the gardens, I slowly dragged myself back to the Homestead. The new kid had been banished from here long before, being chased out by Gally and his crew, given Chuck more to be gleeful about. In the end, Chuck had felt sorry for him and went to hunt the kid down and try again. That left me to find Jeff and beg him in silence to spare a few minutes while I showered. It gave me stepping as close as I could for him to agree and inform Alby or Newt that the bathrooms were out of bounds until I was finished. A surge swelled at the mentioned name. I forced it down and put a thumbs up in acknowledgment to him.
He grabbed me a few minutes later to tell me to hurry up. So I raced out of Homestead, grabbing the shirt and clean underwear in his hands (the former wrapped tightly in the bundle that Jeff wouldn't have realised that it was in there), and bounded to the showers. I couldn't clean fast enough. I was desperate not to be caught in an unfavourable light. The Gladers would grumble. They had to deal with it. This was to be the new norm now.
I chucked the dirty clothes in the usual place and greeted Jeff on the outside. He seemed relieved at my readiness. From behind him, there seemed to be a crowd gathering. A few with not so pleasant faces on them. I ducked my head, took the brush from Jeff and stayed hidden behind him as he past the crowd.
My heart skipped a beat when a I figure unexpectedly appeared in the opening of the nearest Doors. Covered in sweat, his face red, clothes sticking to his body, the boy didn't slow down. He hardly glanced at us as he whizzed past. The boy headed straight for the concrete building located near the Box.
I turned as he passed, not losing sight of this new development. I had seen them before entering the Maze. This was the first time I had seen a Runner up close. I don't know why, yet the novelty of the idea of them swam differently in me. An urge deep inside willed me to follow. Didn't know why.
Up ahead I spotted others entered through the three remaining Glade openings. All of them running and looking as ragged as the guy that had sprinted past us. There couldn't be much good about the Maze if these guys came back looking so weary and worn. They all met as the big iron door of the small building. One of the boys turned the rusty wheel handle, is body strained as he slowly turned it. The big door finally popped open, and with a deafening squeal, the boys swung it wide. They disappeared inside, pulling it shut behind them with a loud clonk.
Jeff had ignored the whole thing, guiding me to the Kitchens instead and making sure that I joined the growing queue. Once the boys had disappeared inside of the building, my train of thought chose to focus on something else. I scanned the picnic benches hoping to spot my companion of the day. Still no sign of the little bugger.
Instead, I caught a glint of golden-hair. I snapped my attention away from that area and focused it elsewhere. I grabbed my food from Frypan, who reframed himself from making any comments, and followed behind Jeff until he stopped at the table.
Shoot.
He sat down.
I chose the seat opposite.
Double shoot.
I kept my head down and focused on my food, making it seem it was the most interesting thing in the world.
I glanced up.
Our eyes connected.
I swear I saw a flush of red tinting his cheeks.
Food. So interesting. Don't blush.
Alby never missed a beat. He continued with the conversation as if mine and Jeff's presence was nothing to him. "The nerve of that shank to come up there like he owned the place." Alby forcefully stabbed at his chicken (which I learnt the name of thanks to Chuck) and stuffed it in his mouth. "Who does he think he is? I swear I was close to handing his arse to him." Bits of food flew onto the table. "I don't like him."
"You say that about every Greenie," Newt remarked.
Alby blew out hot air and pointed his fork directly at Newt. "This time I mean it. Somethin' not right with that one."
"He won't be coming up stairs anytime soon," Jeff added to the conversation. "So you have nothing to worry about for now."
"Yeah," Alby agreed. "At least the state of Ben scared him off and the bloody new kid. One good thing this klunking situation has bought us."
I huffed, the reaction involuntarily.
Alby swivelled on his seat and looked down at me. "Got something to say, Greenie?"
I stared up, avoiding his eyeline. I didn't say a word, but shook my head. I broke the hard stare first and pretended to be interested in my food again.
"That's getting irritating," Alby noted. I felt him turn away from me and finish the rest of his food.
Peaking just over my eyelashes, I witnessed Newt glare at him. His lips pursued together at the remark. Strange.
Just before Alby had finished the last of his food, someone came up from behind and tapped him on the shoulder. "Alby you betta see this." The boy passed over a screwed-up bit of paper and dropped it in front of the leader.
Alby stared it at briefly then stared at the boy who had interrupted his dinner. "What you want me to do with this? Chuck it?"
The boy stood back a step and ducked his head. "No, sorry. I meant to say open it."
Alby eyed him, then cautiously picked up the paper and unscrewed it.
In bold letters, scrawled across the page were five words.
He is the last. Ever.
Alby slammed the page down on the table, causing everyone to jump. He shoved the note toward Newt who read the message. He lowered it down and said "What does this mean?"
"It means." Alby rose from the table. "It means we call a Gathering."
