Chapter 5

Anna called an emergency Council meeting later that evening. They met in the Homestead, most of them talking among themselves, confused as to what was really going on.

"Hey, guys," Anna said in an attempt to make them stop talking. "Guys? Can I get your attention up here please?" She frowned when her words received little to no response. "Hey!" she finally yelled angrily. "Shut up!" The Keepers turned their heads in her direction, looking startled. She glared at them.

"If you would kindly listen to me, I can tell you what's happening." They looked at her expectantly. Anna then proceeded to tell them the story, beginning to end, punctuated only by Clint adding other details, ashen-faced at reliving their encounter. When she was finished, she was met with silence. Anna was about to say something to break it when a piercing scream that made Anna's blood run cold rang through the little room in the Homestead. Some of the Gladers in the room jumped in surprise, beginning to mutter among themselves again. Anna shushed them.

"It came from the Maze," she said with a certainty, her face drained of color. Nobody spoke. Then Newt raised a shaky hand.

"We have to make sure this doesn't happen again," he said. Anna agreed.

"We need rules around here," she suggested. "Any ideas?"

Clint raised his hand.

"Don't hurt another Glader," he said. "There's enough danger in this shucking place without having to look over our shoulders constantly to make sure nobody's gonna jump us." Anna nodded.

"Yeah," she said. "Good one." Gally volunteered next.

"We should always do our part here. We can't afford to have anyone slacking, or we'd never get anything done," he said hoarsely.

"And never, ever go into the Maze u

nless you're a Runner," said Zart.

Anna wrote these three rules down on a spare piece of paper and hung it up in the hallway of the Homestead. The meeting adjourned, a solemn silence hanging like a dark cloud over the group as they walked off.

The next morning, Anna was up before the Runners. She hadn't slept well the night before, and needed just to get up and face her problems. Anna wandered around the Glade, waiting for the Doors to open and the Runners to start packing. After a couple minutes, she was joined by Minho and Newt, who were always the first ones to get up.

"Hey, Anna," said Minho, lacking his usual snarky attitude. Newt just nodded. Anna could tell that he was stressed out, and the fact that one of his friends had just been killed by Grievers probably didn't help much. Anna placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Newt," she said. "You can take a day off if you want to. You've been through a lot." He shook his head.

"No," he said miserably. "Running helps take my mind off of things." Anna nodded sympathetically.

"I'll be waiting for you guys at the end of the day," she said. "There's not much to do around here."

"I've gotta pack my stuff," Minho told her apologetically. "See ya later, Anna."

"I have to also," Newt said. "Sorry." He turned and followed Minho to the supply room.

Anna resumed wandering around the Glade mindlessly, as it was the only thing she could think of to do. She was just wondering if she should sneak into the Kitchen and grab breakfast before Dave showed up when she heard Newt's voice from the direction of the East Door.

"Oh, my God."

She turned to see what the issue could be. Newt was about two steps into the Maze, swaying slightly where he stood. Anna ran over to see what the matter was. Minho joined her a couple seconds later.

"Newt, what is it?" she asked. He turned to look at her, his eyes round and his face tinged green, moving out of the way so she could see what he was looking at. Anna's eyes widened. She heard Minho gag behind her, and she swore disbelievingly under her breath as she tried to comprehend what she was seeing. Lying on the ground before them, surrounded by a pool of dark liquid, was George's disembodied head.

Anna felt lightheaded, her mind a jumble of incoherent thoughts. She stumbled backwards, telling herself that she wasn't going to faint like some weak little person who didn't singlehandedly supervise a massive group of teenaged boys. Anna felt Newt's hand grasp her own, keeping her on her feet.

"We can't tell the others about this," she finally got out, managing to control her gag reflex. Newt and Minho nodded, both of their faces pale.

"Where are we gonna put it?" Newt whispered. Anna suddenly realized that she was gripping his hand like a lifeline, and his fingers were turning purple. She let go quickly, wiping her sweat off of her palm.

"I don't know," she answered honestly.

"Well, we can't go ask the shuck Sloppers to clean it up, now can we?" Minho snapped, having gotten a hold of himself.

"We need somebody to be in charge of this, just in case it happens again," said Newt. "They can have another job the rest of the time." Anna nodded.

"I'll go round some people up," she agreed.

The problem was resolved a lot quicker than Anna thought it would be. She found three guys who she figured were fit for this morbid job, and they cleaned everything up as well as they could. They constructed a little graveyard in the forest, which somebody with a very dark sense of humor nicknamed the Deadheads. The Gladers were informed of what had occurred, but Anna tried not to go into the gory details. She was having trouble with it herself; wanting to vomit every time she looked over at the Maze. Despite all this, however, Anna had pretty much gotten the Glade back in working order by that afternoon, when they got a new Greenie in the Box. He looked about sixteen years old, but his chin was already rough with dark stubble. He didn't talk much, and after giving him a brief tour, Anna still hadn't learned his name. She left him alone for the most part, and he stayed away from the group as much as he could.

By the time that the Runners had returned and the Doors had closed, Anna was completely worn out. Apparently this was more obvious than she thought, because when she got face-to-face for the first time that night with Newt, he told her in no uncertain terms that she was to go off to bed and he would supervise the Gladers. Though she protested quite a bit, she was secretly glad that Newt had stepped in. As she trudged off to her small room in the Homestead, Anna decided that she wasn't going to let a disaster like that happen again. The whole thing had been a nightmare, and she was glad it was over.

Anna woke up the next morning hoping that the day would pass without any noteworthy events. She hauled herself out of bed and trudged out the door to meet the Runners as they headed out.

"Hey, guys," she greeted them wearily, as they all huddled around the supply closet outside her room. A few of them nodded at her glumly, but that was it. Deciding to leave them alone, Anna snuck off to her room again, choosing to treat herself to another half hour of sleep.

Two hours later, Anna opened her eyes blearily, wondering what was going on. She realized suddenly that she had overslept, and ran outside to see what chaos the Gladers had caused. To her surprise, everyone was doing what they were supposed to. She was struck for the first time with the sense of how lucky she was that she was in charge of a well-behaved group of teenaged guys rather than a rowdy one.

Nothing much happened for the next week or so. The Glade functioned normally, the Gladers doing their jobs. The only interesting thing that had occurred was that they had acquired a new cook, coincidentally the Greenie, who was far more talented than the previous one. He had proved himself very useful in the workings of the Glade, as he was capable of cooking food that was edible. Dave had been demoted to "Assistant Chef who Doesn't Do Much But We Tell Him He Does So He'll Feel Better About Being Demoted". The Greenie had been nicknamed Frypan due to his success, and also because nobody knew his real name.

The Runners were depressed for a while, understandably, but their moods lightened noticeably when Anna recruited a new one, a tall, lean kid called Stephen, previously a Builder. They all made it their priority to rigorously train Stephen to be a Runner, as an attempt to distract themselves from the loss of George. Stephen could often be seen around the Glade with whichever Runner wasn't running that day, sprinting laps around the whole area, skirting the walls. He seemed to be enjoying his new position, however, and Anna figured that it had been a good decision to recruit him.

Life in the Glade slowed down to an almost relaxing pace. The Runners were running as usual, the Builders had added a new section to the Homestead, Frypan was running the Kitchen like a well-oiled machine, and everything was generally going smoothly. Anna had begun spending her days wandering around the Glade, looking for somebody who needed help with their job. She was relieved at this lack of tragic events and injury that usually filled her mind with worry, and she had almost begun to enjoy her time in the Glade.

Over the next couple months, two Greenies joined the Gladers; a kid called Caleb who was recruited for the Builders to replace Stephen, and another one called Jeff, who joined Clint as a Med-Jack.

One day, when the Box had come and gone, leaving an empty hole in its place, one of the Gladers approached Anna.

"Hey," he said. "What do you think is down there?" Anna shrugged, not having ever thought about this before.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I've never considered it." He looked down the shaft.

"What if we sent someone down there on a rope?" he asked. "Maybe there's a way out of here." Anna thought about this. She didn't want to take unnecessary risks, but if there was even a slight chance that they could get out, she wanted to try it.

"I'll think about it," she promised, making a mental note to call a Council meeting later that night.

Anna pored over this for the rest of the day, and by the time that the Council had made their decision, she had decided that she was all for it. If there was anyone who wanted to volunteer, she would send them down on a rope and they would report back what they'd found. What could go wrong?

It was more difficult than Anna had thought it would be to find a volunteer for the job, not because nobody wanted to but because everybody wanted to. After an hour of choosing, Anna selected the kid who would be going down into the Box. He was a smallish kid, a Slopper, whom Anna could tell just wanted some recognition. His name was Jack, and his hand had practically shot up into the air when she had asked for volunteers.

The Builders had constructed a thick rope of the ivy that was plentiful around the Glade, and they had made a harness for Jack to wear. A crowd had gathered around the Box to watch, and Jack's face showed no sign of nervousness as he eagerly yanked on the harness. Anna was beginning to feel a slight twinge in the pit of her stomach, however—an uncomfortable feeling that something was going to go horribly wrong. Pushing away this negative thought, however, Anna watched the Builders lower Jack slowly into the gaping hole.

"Are you okay?" Anna asked once he'd disappeared from sight.

"Yeah," he called back. "I can't see much. Lower me down more." The team of people holding the rope complied, and Jack sank a foot or so lower into the pit. Jack's voice echoed once more up to the group of Gladers huddled around the Box.

"It's still too dark to—" he began, but was cut off. The Builders suddenly stumbled backwards, like they'd been pushed.

"What is it?" Anna asked in a panic.

"I don't know," Gally said. "It's like he just lost fifty pounds."

"Jack?" Anna called, fear rising up in her twice as fast when he didn't answer. "Pull him up." The Builders obeyed her, towing the rope up. Jack's messy mop of brown hair appeared over the edge. Anna was about to yell at him for scaring her like that when she noticed the expression of shock on his face and the hollow, blank look in his eyes. She stepped back, awash with dread. Before she could really comprehend, the rest of him was tugged onto the grass.

Anna felt her eyes widen, felt her meager lunch threatening to reappear. She stared at the ground in shock, clamping a hand to her mouth. Lying on the grass before them, blood pooling around it, was half of Jack. His legs were gone, fallen down into the pit somewhere. His body had been cut cleanly in two, and all that Anna could figure at that moment was that they weren't meant to go down through the Box Hole, and they never should have tried it in the first place.

The Baggers transported Jack's torso to the Deadheads, where they placed a sheet of glass over his grave with a message scratched into it:

Let this half-shank be a reminder to all:

You can't escape through the Box Hole.

Over the next couple days, the Gladers sank into a lethargic routine of listlessly wandering about doing various jobs without thinking about it. They had been given hope, for a few short minutes, and it had been taken away from them, taking the life of one of their friends with it. This resulted in a thick cloud of depression to settle over the Glade, and Anna decided that they needed something to take their minds off of it.

On the third morning after Jack's failed attempt at escape, Anna gathered the Gladers together, including the Runners, and told them that they were going to be skipping work that day. Instead, they'd be essentially having a field day- running races, playing softball with a clublike stick and a large pinecone, assembling obstacle courses, and the like. The Runners won almost everything, to nobody's surprise, but what nobody expected was for a tiny Track-Hoe named Darren to slam their makeshift softball so far over everyone's heads that he made it all the way around the bases and was lifted onto the shoulders of his ecstatic team.

Take that, Creators, Anna thought spitefully once their games had ended and the Glade began to quiet. You can wipe our memories, trap us in a maze, and sic Grievers on us, but we've still managed to make the most of it. And in the dying sun, the rumble of the closing Doors echoing around her, Anna smiled.