Okay, so this is the chapter where Sydney escapes…sorry, if you hadn't figured that much out…there wouldn't be much of a story if that didn't happen…also, I have been having random free times and busy times recently, so I got this finished early. I may update this weekend instead of Tuesday…I don't know, my schedule is crazy! So basically, I'm saying, I said updates would be on Tuesday and Friday, now I'm feeling like just expect it twice a week. Okay, got that out of the way. Also, are my author's notes too long? Tell me if they are too long!
Acknowledgements: Thanks to iristmr for following and favoriting my story! And thanks to May a Chance for following my story!
Reviews:
To all of you who reviewed: guys thank you so much I just cant even right now like I'm using fangirl speech and I just did a happy dance and all of your reviews were so positive it just made my day so thank you for that
Lovely Unicorn: Thanks! I hope it lives up to your expectations!
Runnow11: Thank you so much! I'm really, really happy that you like it! I will try to update on Tuesday!
Sydney: I'm so glad you like it! I can't tell you yet! ;) THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ANSWERING MY QUESTION! THAT WAS SO HELPFUL. Also, I used your vine idea in this chapter… :)
Serena: :) I was happy to hear that you were sort of fangirling over this. Also, I will be using your idea of mistrust in the next few chapters. The other Gladers will have to earn her back. For your second review: thank you sooooo much! I try to make Sydney as realistic as possible. It seems like in many other fics, the girl character is as tough as nails with an attitude to go, and has like no emotions. I am like 99% sure that it's impossible to be that way! I'm glad you're happy to wait for me! Thanks a bunch!
Turns out, running on a skinny, stone ledge that's approximately 100 feet above the ground is way more difficult than it seems. Every few feet, I stumble and fling my arms out to steady myself. Besides the fact that the ledges are thin and uneven, my instability has something to do with the gruesome scene I left behind. I feel heartless leaving a boy behind to fight a griever alone. How could I do that? I should have stayed, maybe found my dagger and helped him out. I don't have any right to run away, while he stays helpless on the ground.
I pitch to the left as the wall beneath me rumbles. I fall hard on my knees and grip the sides of the rough wall with bloody fingertips. I can't fall. I can't fall. I have to stop thinking about the kid I left behind. It's too late. I force myself to my unsteady feet once more. I take off, running like I never stopped. I want to slow down, but I can't. At any moment, a griever could detect me and climb the wall. I wipe my hands on my pants, trying to rid them of the dark blood oozing from the gashes on my hands. Climbing the wall was rough, but if I had slowed down to look at my hands, I would be a pancake.
At the next turn, I hesitate. Left or right? Going against my instinct, I turn right. I have gone left too many times. I fumble for my footing once again on the turn. If I continue to stumble like this, I may find myself desolate on the bottom of the maze. I tremble at the thought.
I run for what feels like days, but was probably only an hour or two. Any time I hear a clicking sound, I head the exact opposite direction. So far, so good. With every tremor of the wall, my agitation with this maze grows. I feel like I'm going crazy inside. I gotta get out. I gotta get out. Nothing but survival matters.
The wall beneath me groans, just as a clicking noise from bellow follows my footsteps. Out running it will only work for so long, I fear. I look down to see a griever gaining ground on me. It has not yet attempted to climb the wall. I run harder, faster. I risk a glance at the creature. It is clawing at the ivy on the wall, using the cracks between the stone to make its way up the wall. I can't believe it. It's climbing the wall. I am still not safe.
Left. Right. Right. Left. Left. Right. Left. I make multiple turns, make a futile attempt to lose the beast. It is higher on the wall now, close enough that I can see the needle on its syringe. Panicking, I look around for another way escape. The only way is to jump. Now the griever is thirty feet below me on the wall, and here I am trapped on the top.
Or maybe not. For the second time tonight, an insane idea winters my mind, and I cling to it, like my last hope. I am ready to try another crazy idea in hopes of freeing myself from this unforgiving maze.
I wrap my fingers around a vine that hangs from the wall I'm standing on, to a wall positioned ten feet away. I have to yank about twenty times to free the vine from my side of the wall, reassuring me that it will hold my weight. I ignore my own blood that coats the vine. Without another thought, I plunge off of the side of the wall, bloodcurdling screams echoing from my throat. I am totally going to die.
As my body swings precariously toward the rock-hard wall, I put my feet out, so that my body doesn't slam into it. My combat boots dig into the cracks to steady myself. Just as the vine breaks free from the wall, threatening to take me with it, my scarlet stained fingers throw themselves just over the top of the wall. I dangle there, like bait on a line. Breathing hard, I use the rest of my strength to pull myself once again to the top of the maze wall. A maniacal laugh escapes my lips. Then, I sob and sob. I press my face against the top of the wall and cry. What's going on? This maze. It's driving me insane, even without being stung by a griever.
Speaking of the devil, I hear a muted whirring noise from the other side of the wall that I just bravely leapt off of. Sniveling and wiping blood, snot, and tears onto my clothes, I pick up running again. Exhaustion threatens to overtake me, and several times I think about giving up. I press on.
I am so sick of making turns and feeling lost. The echoes of angry grievers bounce through the maze, keeping me on my toes. I feel ill and overwhelmed. When I get back to the Glade, assuming that I don't die on the way, I am going to do some serious damage to those boys. Blood is dripping from gashes that I didn't know I had, especially a particularly painful one on my forehead. There's another griever attempting to climb the wall below me. I can't switch walls again. This time, I will have to outrun it. The sky is still a thick with darkness, but I have hope that soon, I will escape this treacherous trap.
The griever chasing me is thankfully a stupid one. It can't climb to the top of the wall without tangling its claws in the ivy, or crashing to the ground. I hope it doesn't get smart and figure out a way to reach me. While I'm running, I look around for loose pieces of rock on top of the maze. When finally spot one, I quickly stop, pry it free, and lob it over the side, hitting the griever precisely on the head. With a shriek, it plummets to the hard dirt below. I sprint away, stumbling as I go, hoping that I lost it for good.
Thoughts of the mysterious boy haunt me, as I explore the top of the maze, looking for a way out. He certainly didn't squeeze in after me when the Gladers forced me to enter. I would have seen him. And I haven't passed another exit. He can't live out here. I wonder to myself if the Creators sent him. It seems unlikely that they would send a boy directly to the maze. In fact, none of those solutions seem plausible. As I mull over his appearance in my head, I sense something familiar. His bleachy blond hair, his ocean blue eyes, and something about the way he carried himself all seem to remind me of something. But what?
I cry out as I almost run off the edge of the wall. I can't risk distracting myself like that again. The familiar sounds of a griever stalking me dishearten my entire being, and bring me back to reality. I'm not out of this maze yet.
I run for ten minutes straight. I know that if I don't escape soon, I will never leave this place alive. I am almost too tired to run in a straight line, which is frightening. Looking to a wall on my right, and ignoring the ominous noises from below, I notice a strangely straight crack directly down the middle of the wall. There's an excited thump in my chest as I see a large pile of shredded ivy a few yards to the left. I recognize it as the place I first hid. I croak out an unintelligible noise. I did it. I found the doors. I'm so close.
I feel as though all of the aching exhaustion has leaked from my body. I sprint to the cracked wall just a few turns away. As I'm about to reach it and look down, a noise from the ground startles me. It's the boy. And a griever. They are battling; the griever trying to climb up to me, the boy deterring his process. I stop. This is my second chance. I could climb down. Maybe keep him alive. The other half of me strongly suggests that I climb down the opposite side of the wall, into the Glade, where there's safety.
I stand there for a moment. I don't know what to do. If I go help him, chances are, I'll die. If I go down the other side, I'll be safe. For good. I watch the pair fight, their skills evenly matched. But mostly, I watch the boy. It's his fate I am choosing, not my own.
Unexpectedly, the boy turns his pale face to look at me. For just a moment, it feels as though everything freezes. Our eyes lock. He senses my dilemma; and he decides for me. Without looking away, he nods at me. Giving me permission to go. And though it shreds me inside, I nod back, and finish sprinting to the doors. With a final, teary glance at the boy who saved me twice, I slide over the side of the wall, gripping tightly, and begin my ascent into the glade.
My fingers are still slick with blood, so climbing is difficult. I fumble my way down the wall for what feels like eternity. My limbs are shaking, and I wonder how much longer I can go on like this. I have almost reached the place where the ivy begins to cling to the wall. By estimation, I have about thirty feet left. The ground still seems far away. As I reach for the next crack below me, my boot slips out from its niche. I frantically reach with my grimy hands for a crack to hold me to the wall. There are none. With no fingers secured, and only one foot still touching the wall, I lose all balance, and slip backwards from the wall.
I'm falling.
I can't scream, I'm so terrified. I reach for the ivy, and tangle it in my fingers to slow my drop. The wind whistles in my ears and my hair lashes at my cheeks.
After all that, I may still die. I can't survive a thirty foot drop. Funnily enough, as I plummet, I have time to think. So this is my punishment for not helping the boy. I fall off the wall on my way to freedom.
These are my final thoughts as the ground draws near. I'm sorry, is last thing that enters my mind, before everything goes black, and I feel as though I'm being shattered.
Okay, so I feel like a lot of this was bloody fluff. And I literally mean bloody. Is there such a thing as violent fluff? Anyway, thanks to everyone for being so supportive. I am loving writing this story! Tell me what you thought about this chapter! I have a rough idea for the next chapter, but nothing is set in stone. So, if you have an idea, be sure to tell me! Also, does anyone want me to continue doing quotes of the day? I kind of forgot for a while. If you want them, please tell me! So anyway, that's all!