I leaned back in my chair, whatever I was expecting it wasn't that. Someone coughed.

"But listen to me," Thomas continued, in a hurry to defend himself, "They forced us to help. I don't know how or why, but they did. Maybe it was to see if we could gain your trust despite having been a part of them. Maybe we were meant all along to ones to reveal how to escape. Whatever the reason, with your Maps we figured out the code and we need to use it now."

Looking around, no one seemed angry, which was good. As far as I was concerned, Tommy was one of us now. Most were still staring blankly at him, or shaking their heads in wonder or disbelief. But looking to Minho, I didn't know what to think, the crazy shank was smiling.

"It's true and I'm sorry," Thomas continued, "But I can tell you this- I'm in the same boat with you now. Teresa and I were sent here just like anyone else, and we can die just as easily. But the Creators have seen enough- it's time for the final test. I guess I needed the Changing to add the final piece of the puzzle. Anyway, I wanted you to know the truth, to know there's a chance we can do this."

Newt shook his head, staring at the ground before looking up at me, then the other Keepers. "The Creators- those shanks did this to us, not Tommy and Teresa. The Creators. And they'll be sorry."

"Whatever," Minho said, "Who gives a klunk about all that- just get on with the escape already."

"There's a computer station in a place we've never looked before. The code will open a door to for us to get out of the Maze. It also shuts down the Grievers so they can't follow us- if we can just survive long enough to get to that point."

"A place we've never looked before?" Alby asked, "What do you think we've been doing for two years?"

"Trust me, you've never been to this spot."

Minho stood up, "Well, where is it?"

"It's almost suicide," Thomas said, "The Grievers will come after us whenever we try to do it. All of them. The final test."

"So… where is it?" I questioned, leaning forward in my chair.

"Over the Cliff," Thomas answered. "We have to go through the Griever Hole."

Alby stood up so quickly his chair fell over backwards. His eyes were wide and bloodshot as he took two steps forward, like he was about to charge… and then suddenly stopped. "Now you're being a shuck idiot," he said with a glare directed at Thomas, "Or a traitor. How can we trust a word you say if you helped design this place, put us here! We can't handle one Griever on our own ground, much less fight a whole horde of them in their little hole. What are you really up to?"

Thomas was furious, and rightly so. "What am I up to? Nothing! Why would I make all this up?"

Alby stiffened, clenching his fists, "For all we know you were sent here to get us all killed. Why should we trust you?"

Was he serious? I could only stare as Thomas answered, incredulous, "Alby, do you have a short-term memory problem? I risked my life to save you out in the Maze- you be dead if it wasn't for me!"

"Maybe it was a trick to gain our trust. If you're in league with the shucks who sent us here, you wouldn't have had to worry about the Grievers hurting you- maybe it was all an act."

"Alby," I interjected, Minho picking up the slack.

"That's about the dumbest theory I've ever heard."

"Tommy just about got torn apart three nights ago!"

"You think that's part of the act?" Minho finished.

Alby nodded once, "Maybe."

"I did it," Thomas said with extreme annoyance that almost rivaled Newt's annoyed tone, "on the chance that I could get my memories back, help all of us out of here. Do I need to show you the cuts and bruises all over my body?"

Alby didn't say anything, his face quivering with rage, His eyes watered and veins popped out on his neck. "We can't go back!" he finally yelled, turning to look at everyone in the room. "I've seen what our lives were like- we can't go back!"

"Is that what this is about?" Newt asked. "Are you kidding?"

Alby turned on him fiercely, holding up a clenched fist as if to punch him, but stopped, lowering his arm, then went over and sank into his chair, and broke down. I moved out of the chair, kneeling in front of him a hand on his shoulder and one on his knee, "Alby, talk to us," I said quietly. "What's going on?"

"I did it," Alby said through a racking sob, "I did it."

"Did what?" Newt asked, looking as confused as I felt.

Alby looked up, his eyes wet with tears. "I burned the Maps. I did it. I slammed my head on the table so you'd think it was someone else, I lied, burned it all. I did it!"

I didn't say anything, just looked up at him with concern… What could he have possibly seen, that he'd do this?"

"Well, it's a good thing we saved those Maps," Minho remarked, completely straight-faced, almost mocking, "Thanks for the tip you gave us after the Changing- to protect them."

I didn't look to Minho, didn't acknowledge his sarcastic, almost cruel remark, but that's how he dealt with anger. I continued to look up at Alby who'd acted as if he hadn't even heard.

Newt, instead of showing anger, asked Alby to explain. The Maps were safe, the code figured out. It didn't matter now.

"I'm telling you," Alby said, almost beggingly- near hysterical as he grabbed on to my hand, holding so tight it almost hurt, "We can't go back to where we came from. I've seen it, remembered awful, awful things. Burned lands, a disease- something called the Flare. It was horrible- way worse than we have it here."

"But, Alby, if-" I began, opting to say what Minho did in a much calmer tone.

"If we stay here, we'll all die!" Minho yelled, "It's worse than that?"

Alby stared at Minho a long time before answering. "Yes. It's worse. Better die than go home."

Minho snickered, leaning back in his chair, "Man, you are one butt-load of sunshine, let me tell you. I'm with Thomas. I'm with Thomas, one hundred percent. If we're gonna die, let's freakin do it fighting."

"Inside the Maze or out of," Thomas added before looking to Alby, "We still live in the world you remembered."

Alby shook his head. Looking down at me his face softened for a moment as he pulled me to my feet and got up himself. "Do what you want," he said, sighing looking defeated, "Doesn't matter. We'll die no matter what." And with that, he left the room.

I sat down in his chair with a huff. "He hasn't been the same," I mumbled to Newt.

"Not since being stung- must've been one bugger of a memory. What in the world is the Flare?"

"I don't care," Minho said, "Anything's better than dying here. We can deal with the Creators once we're out. But for now we gotta do what they planned. Go through the Griever Hole and escape. If some of us die, so be it."

Frypan snorted, "You shanks are driving me nuts. Can't get out of the Maze, and this idea of handing with the Grievers at their bachelor pad sounds as stupid as anything I've ever heard in my life. Might as well slit our wrists."

Everyone burst out into argument, everyone talking over everyone else. Newt finally screamed for them to shut up. I held my ears.

Thomas was the next to speak, "I'm going through the Hole, or I'll die trying to get there. Looks like Minho will, too. And I'm sure Teresa's in. If we can fight off the Grievers long enough for someone to punch in the code and shut them down, then we can go through the door they came through. We'll have passed the tests. Then we can face the Creators themselves."

"Which will be a delightful chat, I'm sure," I mumbled.

Newt's grin had no humor in it as he responded to Thomas, "And you think we can fight off Grievers? Even if we don't die, we'll probably all get stung. Every last one of them might be waiting for us when we get to the Cliff- the beetle blades are out there constantly. The Creators'll know when we make our run for it."

"I don't think they'll sting us- the Changing was a Variable meant for us while we lived here. But that part will be over. Plus, we might have one thing going on for us." Thomas said.

"Yeah?" Newt asked, rolling his eyes, "Can't wait to hear it."

"It doesn't do the Creators any good if we all die- this thing is meant to be hard, not impossible. I think we finally know for sure that the Griever are programmed to only kill one of us each day. So somebody can sacrifice himself to save the others while we run to the Hole. I think this might be how it's supposed to be how its happen."

The room was silent. Or it was, until the Blood House Keeper barked a laugh. "Excuse me?" Winston asked, "So your suggestion it that we throw some poor kid to the wolves so that the rest of us can escape? This is your brilliant suggestion?"

Thomas paused for moment before answering as if he had sudden clarity, like he could see how it was supposed to go, how it was supposed to be. "And it seems obvious who the poor kid should be."

"Oh yeah?" Winston asked. "Who?"

Thomas folded his arms, "Me."

I lifted my head, gaping at him and then looking at Newt in horror, trying to say something, anything. But nothing came. Newt laid a hand on my shoulder before standing calmly and walking over to Thomas, grabbed him by the arm and pulled him towards the door. "You're leaving. Now."

"Leaving? Why?"

"Think you've said enough for one meeting. We need to talk and decide what to do- without you there." Newt said, giving Tommy a gentle push out the door. "Wait for me by the Box. When we're done, you and I'll talk."

Newt began to turn around, but Tommy grabbed him, "You gotta believe me, Newt. It's the only way out of here- we can do it, I swear. We're meant to."

Newt got in his face, looking angry, but I couldn't hear what he was saying.

"I'm perfectly willing to do it," Thomas said.

"Oh, really?" Newt asked, irritated. Creators, Tommy stop it, you're pissing him off. "Mr. Noble himself, aren't ya?"

"I have plenty of my own reasons, in some ways it's my fault we're here in the first place." Thomas said, "Anyway, im going no matter what, so you better not waste it."

Newt frowned, "If you really did help design the Maze, Tommy, it's not your fault. You're a kid- you can't help what the forced you to do."

"I just… feel like I need to save everyone. To redeem myself."

Newt stepped back, slowly shaking his head, "You know what's funny, Tommy?"

"What?" Thomas replied warily.

"I actually believe you. You just don't have an ounce of lying in those eyes of yours. And I can't believe I'm about to say this." He paused, "But I'm going back in there to convince those shanks we should go through the Griever Hole, just like you said. Might as well fight off the Grievers rather than sit around letting them pick us off one by one," He held up a finger, "But listen to me- I don't want another buggin' words about you dying an all that heroic klunk. If we're gonna do this, we'll take our chances- all of us. You hear me?"

Thomas held up his hands, "Loud and clear. I was just trying to make the point that it's worth the risk. If someone's going to die every night anyway, we might as well use it to our advantage."

"Well, ain't that cheery," Newt frowned.

Tommy began walking, out of my sight, but Newt called to him, "Tommy?"

I didn't hear his reply.

"If I can convince those shanks- and that's a big if- the best time to goo would be at night. We can hope that a lot of the Grievers might be out and about in the Maze- not in that Hole of theirs."

Again, I couldn't hear Tommy's reply.

"We should do it tonight, before anyone else is killed." With that, Newt closed the door, walking back towards me.

I looked up at him, with a small smile. "I'm with ya."

"Heard that did you?" He said, rolling his eyes.

"Just the good bits."

A/N: Thanks for all the favs and follows, but be sure to review. I wanna know what you guys are thinking!