Newt moved, jumping to his feet. I rolled to the side in and effort not to fall off the bed as he did. There was mechanized sound from outside, followed by the all too familiar clicks of a Griever on the stony ground. Like someone had scattered a pile of nails.

Newt wasn't the only one to have jumped to his feet, but he was the first. He waved his arms, shushing the room by putting a finger to his lips. Favoring his bad leg, he tip-toed toward the lone window in the room, which was covered by three hastily nailed boards. There were large cracks, allowing for plenty of space to peak outside. Thomas crept over to join him, the both of them watching for a few minutes before Tommy seemed to give up, returning to his spot on the ground. Newt walked back over to me, sitting on the bed. He ran his fingers though my hair, seemingly absent-mindedly. "It's okay," he whispered, "Try to get some sleep."

"Not likely," I whispered back, sitting beside him. "You and me, remember?"

He smiled, shaking his head and draping an arm around my shoulders. A few minutes passed like that, various Griever sounds penetrating the walls every ten…. Twenty seconds or so. The squeal of the small engines that kept those creatures running would forever hold their evil stench. It was followed up by the grinding spin of metal that sent shivers down my spine. And not the good kind. Spikes clicked against the hard stone. Something snapping, opening and closing with frigid finality. There had to be three or four of them out there. At least.

They were coming closer, closer, waiting just outside on the stone blocks below. Engines humming underneath the metallic clatter. No one moved. No one made a sound. Fear seemed to hover in the air, hanging just above them, never leaving.

One of the Grievers sounded like it was moving towards the house. Then clicking of spikes against the stone suddenly turned into a deeper, hollower sound. It was all too easy to picture… metal spikes digging into the wooden sides of the Homestead, the massive creature rolling its body, climbing upward… and upward… upwards towards them, defying gravity with its strength. I wasn't the only one to hear the Griever's spikes shred the wood siding in their path as they tore out and rotated around to take hold once again. The whole building shuddered.

I latched onto Newt, my fingers knotting in his shirt. His fingers dug into my skin,

Crunching. Groaning. Snapping.

The sounds grew louder. Closer. Other boys had shuffled across the room, as far away from the window as possible. Thomas followed suit, before Newt and I got up as well. The lot of us, staring at the window.

The Griever was right outside the window. I bit my lip, trying to keep my breathing even, slow and quiet. It was dead silent. I could hear my heart beating in my chest.

Lights flickered out there, casting odd beams through the cracks between the wooden boards. Then a thin shadow interrupted the light moving back and forth. The Grievers probes and weapons had come out… he was searching for a feast. Seconds later, the light settled to a standstill, casting three unmoving planes of brightness into the room.

Tension in the air was thick. You could cut it witch a knife if you felt so inclined.

I remembered Alby in the Map Room at that moment. If he made it to the Map Room. I was just overthinking that little tid-bit when the door from the hallway suddenly burst, whipping open. Gasps and shouts exploded throughout the room, I jumped in surprise, my back colliding with Newt's chest as the whole group turned to the door. I don't know wha I was expecting to be honest. But I sure as hell wasn't expecting him of all people.

It was Gally.

His eyes were laced with rage and bright with lunacy, his clothes were torn and filthy. He dropped to his knees, not bothering to get up. His chest heaved with deep sucking breaths. He bore a striking resemblance to a rabid animal, as his eyes scanned the room. No one said a word. Too shocked to speak.

"They'll kill you!" he screamed, spit flying as he spoke, "The Grievers will kill you all- one every night till its over!"

I watched, speechless, as Gally staggered to his feet and walked forward, dragging his right leg with a startlingly heavy limp. No one in the room moved a muscle as they watched, obviously too stunned to do anything. Even Newt stood beside me, mouth agape

The crazed lunatic stopped, a few feet ahead of us. He pointed at Thomas with a bloody finger, "You," he said with a sneer so pronounced it went past comical. It was flat out disturbing. "It's all your fault!" Without any warning, once however he swung his left hand, forming it into a fist as came around and crashed into Tommy's left eye. He cried out in both pain and surprise, crumpling to the ground.

Newt snapped out of his daze beside me, pushing Gally away as I knelt by Tommy's side, hepling him sit up. Gally had stumbled backwards, crashing into the desk by the window and knocking over the lamp which shattered at it hit the ground. I assumed he'd retaliate, but he didn't, instead, straightening taking everyone in with his maniacal gaze. "It can't be solved," he said, his voice quiet and distant, "The shuck Maze'll kill all you shanks… The Grievers'll kill you… one every night till it's over… I … Its better this way…" He said, his eyes falling to the ground. "They'll only kill you one a night… their stupid Variables…"

I pulled at Thomas, hurriedly, trying to get him to his feet. But my hands were shaking… There was a Griever outside that window and Newt was standing much too close to it. He took a step forward and I visibly flinched, my eyes flickering to the window.

"Gally, shut your bloody hole- there's a Griever right out the window. Just sit on your butt and be quiet- maybe it'll go away."

Gally looked up, his eyes narrowing, "You don't get it, Newt, You're too stupid- you've always been too stupid. There's no way out- there's no way to win! They're gonna kill you all- one by one!" Gally screamed the last word, throwing his body towards the window, tearing at the wooden boards like he was some sort of wild animal caged against his will. Before anyone could react, he'd already ripped one free.

"No!" Newt yelled, running forward. I was too, without even think about it. Thomas was on my heels, running in to help.

Gally ripped off the second board, just as Newt reached him. He swung it backward with both hands, it connected with Newt's head and sent him sprawling across the bed as a small spray of blood sprinkled across the sheets. I think I screamed his name. Not really sure, next thing I knew, I was kneeling on the bed, pulling his torso into my lap as Thomas screamed at Gally.

"What're you doing?"

Gally spat on the ground, "You shut your shuck-face, Thomas. You shut up! I know who you are, but I don't care anymore. I can only do what's right."

I didn't process his words, I was too busy with Newt. I had to wake him up, if he had a concussion he had to stay awake and if he didn't… I needed to see he was okay, because I was freaking out here. I was freaking out. I heard the last board give way as Gally pulled it from the wall. The instant the discarded board hit the floor the glass of the window exploded inward, like a swarm of crystalized locusts. I turned away from the blast, shielding both mine and Newt's face from the blast.

I turned back with a shallow breath, preparing myself for what I knew was there. A Griever, with its large pulsating, bulbous body was half-way through the window. Its metallic arms and pincers were snapping, clawing and stabbing in all directions. One of the Griever's long arms reached towards us. I panicked, trying in vain to pick him up, to pull him away from the Griever's grasp.

Then Gally was speaking again and never in my life was I so happy to hear his voice. The Griever pulled back its arm, as if needed the thing to observe, to listen. Its body kept churning, trying to squeeze through the opening.

"No one ever understood!" Gally screamed over the horrible noise of the creature. "No one ever understood what I saw, what the Changing did to me! Don't go back to the real world, MaC! You… don't… want… to remember!"

He gave me a long haunted look, his eyes full of unreserved terror and I froze, watching helplessly as he turned and dove onto the writhing body of the Griever. I screamed, falling backwards onto the bed as every extended arm of the monster immediately retract and clasp onto Gally's arms and legs making escape or rescue impossible. He sank several inches into the creature's squishy flesh, making a horrific squelching noise. With surprising speed the Griever pushed itself back outside the shattered frame of the window, beginning its descent towards the ground below.

Thomas ran to the window, to watch, but I was frozen, shanking and hanging onto Newt's lifeless body.

Tommy screamed out for Minho and panic tool hold of me again.

I lay Newt down on the bed, gently, brushing back his hair before racing to the window. Minho. Minho was running after the Griever at full speed. Right into the Maze.

"Minho!" I screamed, though there was no possibly way he heard me, behind me Newt muttered my name, blinking away. "Newt," I said, breathing raggedly, "He- he- Minho ran out- we have to go after him!"

"MaC!" he yelled, standing, putting his hands on the sides of my face.

"Creators, you scared me," I mumbled, practically crashing into his chest and hugging him tightly, "But Minho and Thomas and-"

"I know, I know come on."

I nodded, recovering my nerve and picking up towel which Newt placed against his head wound before we raced past the boys in the hallways, running down the stair two at a time and shoving past the pile of boys in the foyer. Thomas paused at the West Door as Newt called out for him, "Minho followed it out there!"

"She said, yeah," Newt said as we caught up. He pulled the towel away from his head and grimaced, "Shuck it, hurts like a mother. Minho must've finally fired his last bit of brain cells," I glared at him, "Not to mention Gally. Although we knew he was crazy."

"I'm going after him," Thomas said.

"Time to be a bloody hero again?"

Tommy gave him a sharp look, "You think I do things to impress you shanks? Please. All I care about is getting out of here."

"Yeah, well, you're a regular toughie. But right now we've got worse problems."

"What?" Thomas said impatiently.

"Somebody-" Newt began.

"There he is!" Thomas shouted. Minho had just turned a corner up ahead and was headed straight for them. He… he was okay. I sighed in relief. Oh that-

Thomas cupped his hands around his mouth, "What we're you doing, idiot!"

Minho waited until he made it back through the door then bent over his hands on his knees and sucked in a few breaths before answering. "I just… wanted to… make sure."

"Make sure of what?" Newt asked. "Lotta good you'd be, taken with Gally."

Minho straightened and put his hands on his hips, still breathing heavily. "Slim it, boys! I just wanted to see if they went toward the Cliff. Toward the Griever Hole."

"And?"

"Bingo." Minho wiped sweat from his forehead.

"I just can't believe it," Newt said, almost whispering, "What a night."

I shook my head at Minho, "Idiot," I breathed, "I almost had a buggin' heartattack! Newt blacks out on me, looking like he's dead and- and then you bust it out into the bloody Maze without a word and- and- Are you two trying to kill me?" I yelled.

Minho wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "We're not dead yet, MaC," He smirked. I shoved him off angrily, shaking my head with a sad smile.

"No… not yet, but at this rate, I'll have a heart attack before either one of you do die."

"Uh… Newt, what were about to tell me? You said we had-"

"Yeah," Newt said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder. "You can still see the buggin' smoke." The heavy metal door of the Map Room was slightly ajar, a wispy trail of black smoke drifting out and into the gray sky. "Somebody burned the Map trunks. Every last one of them."

I was too overwhelmed with my overflow of emotions to deal with the loss of the Maps. Newt had almost died. I had been scared outta my mind. A Griever had almost killed me. And then Minho had ran out into the maze and gave me a heart-attack on top of a heart-attack. I sighed as the two ran off toward the Map Room, yelling back for me to follow.

And so I did.

"Oh my… No…. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!" I muttered, falling down beside Newt. Alby was laying on the ground, eyes closed, a deep gash in his forehead, blood seeped down both sides of his head. Some was even in his eyes, dried and cracking. "Alby? Alby? Wake up, you slintheaded shuck-face piece of klunk. I have been through way too much tonight, you are not allowed to die!"

A small groan escaped his lips, air escaping though his nose. He was breathing. I smiled, "That's more like it."

Somebody brought over a bucket of water and few towels, I mumbled my thanks and handed a towel to Newt so he could help me clean up Alby's wounds.