Tasha had made it to the the open doors of the Maze in time to hear Newt yell, "What the hell's going on out there?" As Thomas and Minho made their way back, not stopping as they walked from the gates, breath coming in short sharp pants. The rest of the Gladers follow, swarming about like confused bees, some lagging behind while a select few crowd about the two returning Runners.
"What have you done now, Thomas?" Growled Gally, anger and accusation in his voice as Minho stalked back to the Gathering hut. Thomas picked up his pace, ignoring Gally to join Minho, who had begun power walking across the Glade.
"We found something." Thomas said, his voice intense and serious, but his tone betraying his thinly veiled excitement. "A new passage; we think it could be a way out." He panted. Tasha almost froze up, but forced herself to keep moving, or else she would be left at the back of the pack.
"Really?" Newt's voice was filled with the sort of hope that Tasha hadn't heard in years, and she allowed herself a slight smile, it wasn't even the smile, it was barely alluded to it, but around a crowd this big, it was her equivalent of laughing and jazz hands, so Minho smiled back at her before answering Newt.
"It's true." He sounded tired but speculative, less serious and sombre than he had always been, the tiny butterfly of hope that had sprung up in Tasha's chest began fluttering more insistently, bouncing against her ribs and filling her with unidentifiable positivity and nausea. Maybe the change wasn't all bad. "It opened a door, something I had never seen before." Minho informed the gathered Gladers. "I think it must be where the Grievers go during the day." Tasha stopped dead, her whole body going cold at his words.
"Wait, woah, woah, woah… are you saying you found the Griever's home?" Chuck asked, voicing Tasha's fears as he worked to catch up the second in command and the two runners. passing the female runner as he did so. "And you want us to go in?" He sounded doubtful. Tasha sprinted to join the small party up ahead, and could see the grin on Minho's face, but could only smile weakly in return.
"Their way in could be our way out, Chuck." Thomas reasoned, his voice cautiously optimistic. Tasha watched and waited for the others, carefully gauging their reactions to temper her own.
"Yeah, or there could be a dozen Grievers on the other side," Gally cut in, his anger stifling the happiness of the others that had begun to worm it's way through Tasha's uncertainty. She could almost feel all of her hairs stand on end as he spoke, his whole attitude annoying her, putting her on edge. "the truth is; Thomas doesn't know what he's done. As usual." Gally spat. Tasha and Thomas span at almost the exact same time to face Gally, Tasha taking a stance behind the Runner, joined by Newt and Minho as backup for Thomas, all glaring at the Builder in mutual anger and frustration at Gally's continued disapproval of the newest Runner.
"Hey, well at least I did something, Gally." Thomas hissed, "What have you done, huh? Aside from hide behind these walls all the time?" Tasha could hear the sting in Thomas's words and felt Newt flinch beside her. It was a low shot, even for Thomas, but all of them remained angry at the Keeper of the Builders.
"Let me tell you something, Greenie," Gally snarled, poking Thomas in the chest with three fingers, hardly seeming phased by his comment, or, perhaps, even more riled up. "You've been here three days. I've been here three years."
"You've been here three years and you're still here, Gally!" Thomas's incredulous cry filled the now silent Glade, "So what does that tell you? Maybe you should start doing thing a little differently!" Tasha stiffened up, her whole body going rigid at Thomas's words. They had continued with this because it worked, not because they were doing it out of spite. If they had another plan, they would have tried it, but they had been doing the best with what they had, Gally included.
"Guys!" Teresa's soft voice came from the side of the group, startling Tasha out of her frozen state. She frowned at Teresa from where she stood and Teresa simply nodded to Thomas. Tasha huffed out an angry sigh.
"Yeah, well maybe you should be in charge, Thomas. What about that -?" Gally mocked, obviously hurt by the Runner's statement, but unwilling to give him the satisfaction as sarcasm dripped from his words. Tasha felt an angry retort bubbling in her throat as her expression contorted into one of derision, but she was cut off before a single word left her lips.
"Hey! Guys!" Teresa cried, the volume of her voice at least enough to quiet them down. "It's Alby." She announced, and that got their attention, especially the four gathered around Thomas, and, of course, the Runner himself. "He's awake." She looked between them, before her gaze settled on him, trying to communicate some meaning that only he would understand. There was something about the two of them, the undeniable bond they shared, Tasha was simultaneously envious and wary of it. He took off at a run, followed by Newt and Minho, along with Gally. Tasha trailed behind them, lagging back with Teresa. They didn't speak, but the silence wasn't hostile. Teresa did what she had to do and for that, Tasha was thankful; it mustn't have been easy to speak over the other Gladers - they were strangers to Teresa still - and it must have been nerve wracking, or perhaps that was simply Tasha's own fears. The others were waiting for Teresa at the door of the Med-Jack hut, as if she was the Keeper of Alby or somesuch, she pushed through the doors, the others following her nervously through to the small room that housed their leader.
"Has he said anything?" Asked Minho, all eyes trained on Alby, positioned in the middle of the room, not moving and not facing them where he sat.
"No." Muttered Teresa as the others fanned out behind Minho. Newt was the first to approach the leader, who was seated on the bed, hunched over with his arms crossed, brooding and pensive, his very demeanour making him seemingly untouchable to the others.
"Alby…" Newt mumbled, his voice so quiet and careful that it was almost painful to hear, full of concern and worry about the leader. "Alby, you alright?" He asked, sitting gingerly upon the bed beside him, leaving at least a foot of space between them, his eyes full of concern. Tasha watched, silently from the back of the pack, still harbouring some nausea and discomfort from the confrontation earlier. She kept playing it back in her head, wondering if there was a way she could have stopped the bitter resentment from overwhelming her, to be logical about things. She was lost in her own thoughts as the watched the leader, unfocused.
Alby was silent.
Thomas was the next to move forward, kneeling beside the black boy and trying to catch his gaze, Alby refused to look up, to even acknowledge the presence of the other Gladers surrounding him. "Hey, Alby…" He began, continuing hesitantly when there was no response, "We may have just found a way out of the Maze." He said, hope in his voice, something to try and lift the spirits of the gloomy leader, "Yeah, we could be getting out of here."
It was only the slightest shake of his head the verified that their leader was, in fact, alive and breathing, but everyone in the room caught Alby's slight movement. "We can't." He breathed, his voice quiet and hoarse, from his earlier screaming. Tasha's heart leapt into her throat, the same devastated tone she had always implemented around her phrase 'there's no way out' wavering through Alby's lips. "Can't leave…" He sounded broken, almost on the verge of tears. Tasha felt her whole world beginning to crumble, which she was slightly confused about as she had never really had hope in the first place, or else, she always told herself she didn't. Perhaps she was simply trying to not get her hopes up. "They won't let us."
"What are you talking about?" Thomas's voice had an urgency in it that wasn't there before, as he once more tried and failed to catch Alby's gaze. Tasha felt as if she should try and reach out to the Greenie, comfort him somehow. She forced herself to not be too upset, to believe in Thomas and Minho, that there was a way out, but something still hurt in her chest.
"I remember…" The pause that followed Alby's words was one of the heaviest Tasha had ever experienced, her eyes widened and a sickening feeling invaded her gut. She caught Newt's expression out of the corner of her eye and saw it mirrored her own feelings; those of disorientation and tremendous worry.
"What do you remember?" Thomas asked, intense. Alby finally turned, looking straight at Thomas and mumbling one word. In the moments before he spoke, she could have heard a pin drop in the silence.
"You." Thomas looked as if he had been punched in the gut, like someone had betrayed him, however it was he who had betrayed himself. His inner turmoil was clear on his face and Tasha idly thought amongst her nausea that Thomas would be terrible at poker. Thomas was now the centre of attention, the tension hanging thick and heavy in the air around them, almost tangible as the other Gladers present all turning to face him with almost identical looks of shock on their faces. "You were always their favourite, Thomas." Alby mumbled, bitterly and Tasha felt like she couldn't breath. The others seemed to be in similar states of suspended animation as Alby continued, focused on Thomas as if there was no-one else in the room. "Always." The tension of the moment was undercut by the startling ruckus outside, Gladers calling out to one another, shouting and running past the hut. Tasha needed fresh air to clear her head, and to check that no-one had broken anything. She hissed a sigh, casting Newt a long suffering look, which he didn't return, his face a hardened mask of determination as he watched Alby and Thomas. She turned on her heel as the others kept the majority of their focus on the two in the centre of the room.
Outside, Tasha could see the problem as clear as day, and she decided then and there that fresh air would not help her nausea. It was well past the time of the Gates closing, and yet they stood proudly open. She could see the darkened entrance to the Maze and images flashed through her mind, the doors closing, the Grievers emergine, everything turning bad in a matter of minutes. She could feel her hands shake even as she looked around at the Gladers passing her by.
"Shuck." She hissed, her heart racing and the pain in her chest growing worse by the minute. "Winston!" She called out to the Keeper of the Slicers, who was passing at that moment with a bunch of torches in hand. He spun around, agitation and fear on his face that Tasha could feel reflected in her soul, even though she didn't show it on her face. "Pass me one." She gestured to one of the torches and he threw one to her, he turned as soon as he had, which Tasha was silently thankful for, as her shaking hands caused her to fumble the torch and almost set her shirt ablaze, but she had managed to get a hold of it, though it seemed to be vibrating in her shaky grip. The others had evidently left Alby in the Med-Jack hut, running to catch up with her as she headed for the gates.
"Hey, Tasha, what's going on?" Thomas called out. Tasha stopped abruptly, face blank for the blind terror behind her mask. She jerked the torch in her hand towards the door and hoped that they couldn't see the way it shook. The pain in her chest grew worse, and her legs began to tremble, but despite that, and the sudden difficulty she had breathing, she took back off, running faster than before, calling over her shoulder as loud as she could manage.
"The doors aren't closing."