Day 3 (Continued)

Newt POV

The walls closed with a thunderous sound and everyone stood still, mouths gaping and full of shock.

Newt stared at the closed doors, panic and dread filling his chest.

No. No. No. No!

"Oh no..." Chuck whispered beside him.

"Shit." Gally said from somewhere afar.

When the crowd diffused, leaving Newt and Chuck behind, Newt slammed his fists against the maze walls. Sudden realization that his friends are currently trapped in the maze overnight blasted him. He pounded his fists into the walls, willing the walls to open with his mind. But to no avail, his efforts were futile. Instead, he was rewarded with only bloody knuckles.

"Dammit!" He growled in defeat, ignoring the pain.

Newt knew that bloody idiot wanted to become a runner. But he didn't think he was daft enough to run inside in the middle of the night, right when the walls were closing. Newt had tried to grab him and stop him, but he was too quick and then it was too late. He wanted to run in after him, but the walls closed too fast and even if he did, his leg's limp would have held him back. He told him before. No one survived the night. Not one stupid bloke. So why? Why did he have to have possess some bloody heroic complex and risk his life?

"Come on, Newt..."

Newt paused his hopeless pounding and looked down at the young boy. He was peering at him with a pitying expression.

"We can't do anything, Newt. Let's just hope they make it out alive-"

Newt shook his head frantically. He let out a tired laugh. It came out as a choked cough instead.

"No. No one ever survived before. You know how it is, Chuck."

"I don't get you! Before, you used to be the one who convinced everyone that the runners will make it on time every time they came back late. Why are you acting different this time, Newt?"

"This time is different, Chuck!" Newt burst.

"How, man?" Chuck shook his head, unconvinced and relentless. "You're just acting like this because Thomas went in after them and you couldn't do anything because of your leg!"

Newt froze.

Chuck's eyes widened slightly as he realized what he just said.

"I-I'm sorry, man." Chuck quickly apologized and Newt grit his teeth.

"Shut up, Chuck."

"I'm sorry." He repeated, fiddling with his wooden toy. "I'm just saying that you need to trust them to make it back. Remember what Alby says? We stick together. Thomas has Minho who is our best runner. They'll come back together. I know they'll be fine."

He's just a kid. A naive kid. Newt chanted in his head, barely containing his anger. He took a deep breath and looked at him sternly.

"You saw Alby! He was stung! And Minho was hurt too." Newt argued, refusing to let the boy's hopeful optimism seep in. "And now Tommy is stuck out there with them! He's not a runner, never been inside there. He'll hold them back even more. If they survive the night, it'll be a fucking miracle!"

"Well, I think they can make it. I'm not giving up on them." Chuck claimed stubbornly, clinging onto his wooden toy, as if he was drawing energy and support from it. "I thought you would have more confidence in Thomas, but I guess not..." He added quietly.

"What?" Newt pushed himself off the wall and gave him a weary look. "What are you babbling about?"

"Thomas. Aren't you friends with him?" Chuck asked pointedly, looking up at him.

Newt nodded, still confused."Yes...?"

"Alright then, man. If anyone can make it out, I know Thomas can. Since he came here, I knew he was one crazy guy. I know he'll make it. And bring Alby and Minho with him too." Chuck replied, looking back toward the walls with the utmost confidence.

Newt envied the boy's refusal to dwell on anything but the bright side.

"So stop looking so depressed, Newt. He'll be back." Chuck continued. He gave him a weak smile, his chubby cheeks showing his dimples. "Thomas will come back."

Newt frowned. "I'm not only worried about Thomas."

"You called him Tommy." Chuck grinned and Newt tried not to blush.

Did he call him that? When he saw him run into the maze, the only thing on his mind was to stop him in some way. He didn't really register what he called out to him.

"Oh. I...I guess I did." Newt shrugged and looked away.

And so what if he did?

Day 4: Morning

Before the sun rose the next day, Newt was already out of bed. He couldn't sleep well that night. He couldn't stop thinking of how Thomas was out there, alive or dead. The thought of Minho with him only made him feel slightly better. He knew he should have been more worried about Alby and his condition, he did know that man longer than Thomas, but he couldn't help it.

If Alby was really stung, he was already a goner.

But Thomas. That bloke have been here for only three days. And throughout those three days, Newt spent talking to him longer than he did with any of his other friends. It did help that he was assigned to watch over him, but Thomas used that to his advantage by striking up a conversation with him whenever he could. Slowly, a friendship formed between them. He was great guy. Although, sometimes Newt saw him staring off in a distance, looking lonely than ever and lost in whatever world he slips into. Newt knew there was more to the bloke than he let on.

It's hard forming friendships among the Glade, knowing at any second that one of them might die. Which is why Newt tried to keep his interactions with the other blokes to a minimum. Only Alby and maybe Chuck were his real friends. Minho wasn't so bad either, but he was a runner and his chances of surviving was slim. And no one should want to befriend a runner since they risk their lives on a daily basis and attachments to them can be tiresome and painful.

When Thomas began to talk about how he wanted to be a runner, Newt tried to convince him otherwise. Instead, it only made him even more determined. And now that stupid idiot was out there possibly dead.

The rest of the Glade started to wake up and Newt swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing. His throat felt dry. He plastered a stoic, unreadable expression. Standing in front of the closed maze doors, he waited.

Chuck joined him few minutes later, still fiddling with his beloved toy.

"They're going to make it, man. I know it." The curly-haired boy murmured softly, twisting the wooden toy in hands.

Newt nodded, but didn't say anything. He didn't trust himself to speak, afraid that he'll start snapping at the boy. No one survives the night, didn't he understand? Why was he still thinking that they will? Newt had to remind himself that he was still a kid. He was naive.

But Newt couldn't help but wonder why he was standing here right now, himself hoping that when the doors opened, they'll be on the other side of it. That as soon as the walls would slide open, he'd see Thomas and his dumb moles on the other side.

"If they make it, I'm going to kick Tommy's arse." Newt joked halfheartedly.

Chuck grinned up at him.

"They'll make it."

Newt prayed he was right.

A crowd gathered around them, as they all waited for the sun to rise and the doors to open. When the sky began to lighten up, a wave of nervous tension spread through them. Newt clenched his fists, flinching a bit from his injured knuckles from last night, bruises still tender.

The maze doors rumbled with life and began to open. Newt relaxed his fists. He scrambled closer to the doors, Chuck on his heels.

Before the doors opened wide enough to see the other side, Newt closed his eyes in fear of seeing no one.

"There's no one there..." He heard Clint whisper his fears.

"Shit." Gally said on his other side.

Newt felt Chuck clutch his arm. Slowly, he opened his eyes to see what he suspected all along. No one on the other side.

No one survived the night. Even with a stubborn, heroic-complex freak like Tommy.

No one.

With his eyes cast downward, Newt felt a hollow feeling developing from his core. Did he really just lose two friends? And another who he sometimes felt like the closest thing to a brother?

At that moment, Newt wanted nothing but to be left alone. Now that Alby was gone, as second-in-command, he had to...had to...

His thoughts were interrupted.

"L-Look!" Suddenly Gally shouted. "It's them!"

Newts eyes shot upward, startled. His eyes widened.

Bloody hell.

On the other side, stood three idiots, just turning the corner and coming into view. Well, more accurately, two standing shanks dragging along an unconscious one.

"Oh my god! They made it!" Chuck shouted hysterically at his side, jumping up and down in sheer excitement. Disappointment and senses of tragic loss was transformed to happiness and waves of relief among the gladers. A number of them ran toward where Thomas and Minho were dragging along Alby to help them out. Newt stood still at the entrance, in shock and disbelief.

They're alive.

As they drew near, Gally and the others held onto Alby, while Thomas and Minho stepped aside to catch their breath.

He heard Wintson shout that should they take Alby to the med jacks. Without speaking, Newt nodded to him and they took Alby away. There was an unspoken agreement among the Glade that since Alby was injured and incapable of leading them, everyone would take their orders from Newt.

They carried Alby, walking past Newt and Chuck. Just like he suspected, Alby was stung. Newt didn't know how the med jacks would help him, since they didn't help Ben very much, but he wasn't going to dampen the boy's feelings. Not yet. Not when they just found out their friends came back safely.

"If something happens to me, you're their leader." Newt remembered Alby's words when he made him second-in-command. He didn't realize that day would actually come. Maybe because he never dreamed it would come in the first place. It was Alby. The man who most of the boys considered as their father figure. The man who entered the Glade before all of them.

Newt turned toward Minho and Thomas, who were still panting breathlessly.

"What happened?"

Before one of them could answer, Chuck interrupted.

"I can't believe you guys survived the night! Newt thought you guys were going to die for sure..." He exclaimed, practically jumping with each word he uttered. Newt glared at him, but he kept going. "But I told him you guys would come back for sure! You guys are so epic!"

Thomas smiled at the excited boy. "I can't believe it either, Chuck. Trust me, I didn't want my first time in the maze to be at night."

Something cracked in Newt.

"You weren't even supposed to go in!" Newt snapped fiercely.

Thomas jerked, taken aback by his reaction.

"I know, Newt...I'm sorry. But-"

"We'll discuss this later." Newt intercepted coldly.

Thomas shot him a guilty look, quickly shutting up. He took a step toward Newt, but Newt shook his head once, promptly stopping any apology or excuse he had conjured up at that moment.

Newt avoided Thomas's pleading gaze and spoke to Minho directly.

"How did Alby get stung? He never had any trouble when he went out into the maze before."

"I don't know how it happened either. We were running in section seven and we split up for like a minute. One second I was running, and then next, a grievor pops out. Not long after, I was dragging a stung Alby back." Minho explained with a tired sigh.

"And how the bloody hell you guys survived the night? And still managed to bring Alby back, with him being stung and all?" Newt asked curiously.

"Who cares Newt?" Chuck said. "What matters is that they made it back." He spoke happily, although there was underlying curiosity beneath his tone as well.

Minho and Thomas exchanged a look.

Minho spoke up. "Well, Alby got stung and I knew that there was no chance for him to live. I was about to leave him behind, but this shuck refused to leave him behind. We tied him to a rope against one of the walls, but then a grievor showed up."

Newt and Chuck tried to soak in what he just said, wondering how they managed to tie Alby against the wall, but they didn't question it. Chuck was right. What mattered now was that they came back in one piece.

"And then this idiot..." Minho continued, shoving Thomas's shoulder, shaking his head in disbelief. "This idiot killed a freaking Griever."

Newt's eyes widened, jaw dropping. He glanced at Thomas, who plastered a sheepish look.

Chuck let out a whoop, while the other boy's who lingered behind listening to their conversation had expressions varying from disbelief, shock, and a mix of worry and confusion.

"H-how is that possible?" Newt couldn't help but ask. He met Thomas's eyes who stared back.

"Newt..."

"Newt! Get over here!"

Thomas was abruptly interrupted. It was Gally, his shout coming from where they took Alby.

Without another word, they took off in his direction. They scrambled inside, following Gally.

"What's going on?" Newt asked, authoritative. He moved closer and peered at Alby. They had taken his shirt off and had tied him to the bed.

"He woke up." Gally explained with a confused expression. "Well he was awake a second ago..."

Alby's eyes were shut, sweat covering his chest. Thomas stepped closer to check whether or not he was breathing.

"Alby, are you.."

Instantaneously, Alby eyes flew open and he began to writhe in his bed, pushing against his binds. They all jerked back with startled expressions. Newt looked down at his friend with a worried expression. Dark pupils colored Alby's once brown eyes. He squirmed and let out an animalistic growl, the bed jerking with every move he made.

"Shit, Alby! Calm down!" Gally begged, holding him down. Thomas moved to help him.

Alby turned toward Thomas when his hands touched him and snarled. He sounded like a starved animal, or feral one. Whichever.

"You! You're one of them!" Alby roared. "You're one of them! It's all your fault."

His words sounded eerily similar to Ben's.

Thomas looked deeply offended and full confusion as Alby continued to hurl more and more vicious words at him. All of which contained blame for something Thomas have done.

Newt pulled Thomas back, noticing his expression. It was full of betrayal.

"He's not in his state of mind." Newt tried to comfort him, explaining Alby's irrational behavior, although he was starting to become uncertain himself.

Thomas nodded stiffly.

Newt looked around the room. The boys were all standing, surrounding Alby on the bed. After seeing their own leader acting like a ravaged animal, their morale's seemed to have dropped. Meanwhile, Gally kept glaring at Thomas. Newt could tell from one look on his face that he somehow managed to connect everything that happened to Thomas.

This was not good. Now that Alby was out, Newt knew things were going to get bloody difficult.

It was time to regroup and call for a meeting.

But before that, he wanted to talk to Thomas.