Newt had convinced Minho to be the leader. And I had watched as Minho begrudging agreed, obviously unhappy about taking over the reins. Swallowing my words, I said nothing, turning back to my work and leaving the boys to work it out for themselves.

It was around nine o'clock when everybody laid down, and since that first night in which I had refused to sleep in that smaller dorm alone, the sleeping positions had shifted. A group of boys, moving into that dorm while the rest stayed. Me, sleeping on the bottom bunk, Newt above me, with Tommy and Minho to the right.

It was strangely quiet, despite the fact that no one had fallen asleep yet. Fear silencing them as they thought about what was to come. I had already done too much of that and spent my time attempting to distract myself from the onslaught of fear that gripped me when I did think about it. We'd been through the Maze and its horrors. And the so-called rescue did nothing but dampen our spirits. What was to come would be terrible. Horrible. And deadlier than anything we've faced so far. Of that I was certain.

It was probably around eleven when Newt's head came down from the top bunk. I smiled slightly, raising an eyebrow and looking up at him. "Shouldn't you be asleep?" I whispered.

"Shouldn't you?" he responded, quietly climbing down from the top bunk.

I laughed slightly, moving over and making room for him on the bed. "Good that." Rolling his eyes he laid down beside me, rolling onto his side and pulling me into his chest, pressing his lips to mine. I smiled into the kiss, my hands on his chest. He had one hand gripping my waist, the other propping up his head as he pulled away. "Stay with me," he whispered, his eyes looking into mine.

Confused, I whispered, "Where else would I go?"

"Just stay with me," he muttered, lowering his head to my shoulder and laying some of his weight over me.

"Mhmm," I nodded, resting my head against his… and that how we fell asleep, his arm draped around my waist as, using my chest as a pillow as I rested my head against his.

Thomas was the first to wake and he did so well before five o'clock and turning on his side the first thing he saw was Newt curled up beside MaC his head on her chest and his arm wrapped around her middle. She had a small smile splayed across her face as she rested her head against his.

He figured he'd let them be, wake them up a few minutes before everyone else and spare them the embarrassment… as well as the time that would be spent on teasing the pair.

And then it was 4:55 and there was five minutes before everyone's watch was set to go off. He swung his legs off the bed and stood beside them, unsure of how to go about waking them. MaC sighed in her sleep, squirming slightly in Newt's grip. His arm shifted in response, his head rising and falling in time with her breathing.

Thomas reached out and shook Newt's shoulder.

The boy blinked, raising his head and blinking again before quickly pulling himself off her and turning to Thomas, his face slightly red. "I uh…"

Thomas smiled slightly, laughing.

MaC grumbled in her sleep reaching out to the spot where Newt had been sleeping. Newt smiled slightly, looking at her disheveled hair and rumpled T-shirt. She turned on her side before promptly falling onto her stomach.

"Everyone else'll be up in," Thomas checked his watch squinting in the darkness as he looked, "A minute or so."

Newt nodded, laying a hand on Thomas's shoulder. "Thanks."

Thomas nodded in response, his mind drifting towards Teresa for a moment before he shook her from his thoughts. He wondered how long Newt and MaC had been… together. He wondered if the others were jealous. He wondered. But he didn't ask. They were never very… mushy… in front of the others, and he suspected there was a reason for it. He didn't comment on the blood rushing to his friend's cheeks that he could see even in the darkness that surrounded them.

The girl on the bed groaned as every watch in the room went off. Thomas spared on last look at his friend before bolting for the showers.

I groaned, pulling a pillow over my head. And then a hand was on my back and someone was laughing slightly. Newt. "Come on, sleeping beauty, get up, we got work to do." I let him lift the pillow off my head, and just looked at him, my hair splashed across my face breaking up my view of him with blonde lines. He brushed the hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear. "Come on," he said again, this time serious. "If you want a shower before we end up who-knows-where, you have to move now. Before the others get smart."

At the mention of one last shower I sat up straight, kissed him quickly and ran towards the shower in the small dorm. I laughed victoriously as I reached the room before anyone else. Locking it, I stripped and climbed in. The water was warmer than it ever was in the Glade… it was heavenly.

And it was over.

Ten minutes to six every Glader sat ready, anticipating whatever was to come. Most were holding a plastic bag full of water with the bed sheet pack at their sides. We were all settled on the larger dorm as the invisible wall had reappeared, impossible to pass through.

"We've got three minutes," Minho said, standing up to address everyone after giving me a sort of hesitant look. "Everybody sure they still want to go?"

Everyone nodded.

"Anybody change their mind overnight?" Minho asked. "Speak now or never. Once we go wherever we're going, if some shank decides he's a sissy pants and tries to turn back, I'll make sure he does it with a broken nose and smashed privates."

I bit the inside of my cheek, resigning to sit awkwardly among the multitude of boys. Why did it always come back to private parts? Newt dropped his head into his hands beside me and groaned loudly. I elbowed him with a furrowed eyebrows. He was the one pushing Minho to take over in the first place.

"Newt, you got a problem?" Minho asked, his voice surprisingly stern and rightly so.

Newt seemed surprised. "Uh… no. Just admiring your bloody leadership skills."

I rolled my eyes at the Newt's response. Minho pulled his shirt away from his neck, leaning over to show the tattoo branding him the leader. "What does that say, slinthead?"

Newt glanced left and right, once to me and once to his other side, his face slightly red. "We know you're the boss, Minho. Slim it."

"No, you slim it," Minho countered, pointing at him. "We don't have time for that kind of klunk. So shut your hole."

Minho and Newt were friends as close as they come. But Minho took his job seriously and if he was gonna be the leader he was gonna do it right. Of that I had no doubt. He'd listen to whatever Newt had to say, but he wasn't gonna stand there and let him disrupt everything.

"It six o'clock!" someone shouted.

As if he'd suddenly said the magic the invisible shield fogged up again into a splotchy white film. And a second later, it vanished. Gone altogether. I noticed the change immediately. A large section had been transformed into a flat sort of shimmering surface of a shadow gray.

"Come on!" Minho yelled, pulling the strap of his pack onto his shoulder. He was gripping a pack of water in his other hand. "Don't mess around –we only have five minutes to get through. I'll go first." He pointed at Thomas. "You go last –make sure everyone follows me before you come."

Tommy nodded, wiping sweat from his forehead.

Minho walked towards what I assumed was the Flat Trans, pausing right before it. It was unstable. Completely impossible to focus on as swirls and shadows of various darkness and light traipsed across the surface of the Flat Trans.

Minho turned back. "See you shanks on the other side."

And then he stepped through it, a wall of murky gray seeming to swallow him whole.

And when no one moved I stood and turned to the lot of them. "Well, come on then." And I walked in after him, winking at Newt who rolled his eyes, getting up to herd everyone in after me.

I slammed into Minho's back with and 'Oof'. He stumbled forward before regaining his footing look back at me with a half-hearted glare. I smiled slightly, "Hi."

Scoffing he pulled me to his side as the next two boys stumbled through. And pretty soon we had 'em all counting off nice and controlled like. Orderly. And then someone stumbled followed by an. "Ow!" somebody was on the ground.

"Everyone be still and shut up!" Minho yelled, his voice ringing in my ear. "Thomas, was that you? Are you in here?"

"Yes!" Tommy yelled getting back on his feet. "I was the last one to come through. Did everyone make it?"

"We were counting off nice and easy till you came stumbling through like a doped-up bull," Minho responded. "Let's do it again. One!"

When no one said anything, I yelled, "Two!"

Tommy was next, and the rest followed suit, Aris being the last and shouting "Twenty-one!"

"Good that," Minho said. "We're all here, wherever here is. Can't see a shuck thing."

The only sound was that of shuffling fabric and bated breaths of the boys around me. "Too bad we don't have a flashlight."

"Thanks Captain Obvious," I said lightly.

"Alright, listen up. We're in some kind of hallways –I can feel the walls on both sides, and as far as I can tell, most of you are to my right. Thomas where you're standing is where I came in. We better not take any chances of accidentally going back through the Flat Trans thingamajiggy, so everyone follow my voice and come toward me. Not much choice but to head down this way and see what we find."

He started moving away from me as he said the last few words. The scruffs of feet on the ground and the sounds of packs against the boys clothing told me that the others were following, reaching out, my fingers grazed the fabric of someone's shirt. I was hoping it was Minho.

"MaC?" he said in a voice that was undeniable his own.

"Oh, good, it is you," I smiled, moving closer to him, one hand on the cold hard wall. Those were the only words spoken as we moved. My eyes couldn't even adjust to the darkness as there wasn't the slightest hint of light anywhere in the blackness that surrounded us. The air was cool enough, but smelled a bit like old leather… and dust. A few times the boy behind me knocked into my back, his hands pushing off my shoulder as he muttered profuse apologies.

It was strange. On we went, onward and forward without stopping. Never veering to the right or left. Never moving my hand from the wall. Without that anchor, that hold on reality, it would've felt as if we were walking through empty space, floating through nothing… making not progress at all. If not for the scrapes of shoes on the concrete ground and occasional whispers of conversation between Gladers it would seem as if I was the only one there. Well, and Minho as I kept reaching out as if to assure myself he was still there, that somebody was. He did it too sometimes. His hand would graze my arm or the fabric of my shirt and then he'd pull back, jerking away from me.