Author stuff: I'm sincerely hoping I handled all of this well.
Again, trigger warning for sexual assault and blood at the very end.
Chapter 35
In Which The Gladers (And The Readers) Learn Of Ash's Fate
The Gathering room wasn't big enough for everyone, but they still managed to squeeze all the Gladers in – except the redheaded girl who was stored in the Slammer and a couple of Baggers who had to watch her. It was uncomfortable to stand so close to so many others. It was important, however, for them all to be present.
He stood with his fellow Runners, closer to the back where it was less claustrophobic. The Keepers all stood behind Nick, as did Ash – whose hands had been bound – and Adne – who looked ready to faint as she clung to Flossy. Flossy, oddly enough, was sporting a gnarly bruise on her left cheek, and she was standing proud, patting Adne's hand occasionally.
Archie met her eyes, raising his brows. She simply lifted her chin higher. He gave a little snort.
"Thank you all for coming," Nick said, his hands resting on the divider between him and the Gladers. "I know that this is a lot to ask of many of you, but it is important that you all be present to hear this.
"Myself and the other Keepers have been preparing for something like this to happen for quite some time, since Flossy arrived, if we're being honest. I just hoped it would never actually come to… this. I know the Keepers feel the same way.
"Very early this morning, Ash was seen sneaking out of the Homestead. Particularly, leaving the girls' room." A murmur rose up from the gathered Gladers as they straightened and looked at one another. Everyones' minds were going to the same thing. Nick raised his hands to quiet them. "I won't go into full detail of the events that transpired to save the parties involved any further emotional distress. And I'm sure you are all aware of what I am implying.
"It is in direct violation of rule number two, never harm another Glader. We are all aware of that, correct?" A chorus of agreements – spread out and quiet as they were – were called out. "And we all know what that means. I am saddened to say that Ash has been sentenced to Banishment."
No one said anything. They all looked between the girls and Ash. All of them were trying to comprehend what was happening.
Archie felt his world start to tilt. He braced his back against the wall, using a support beam to keep himself upright. He thought he heard Justin ask him something, but he brushed it off.
"We have decided to leave it to you to vote on whether he goes tonight or tomorrow." That got a cry out of them. No one quite wanted that burden placed on them. Archie could see why. The Keepers obviously had their reasons. It was more than enough knowing the exact details of… what had happened. To decide when a friend would die? Shuck.
That was messed up.
Nick called for order once more, his voice drowning all of them out. Only when everyone had silenced themselves, was a call for votes given.
He felt bile rise to the back of his throat. He swallowed and closed his eyes. He didn't want to see the outcome. He couldn't see the outcome.
"Tomorrow?" Nick said.
Archie held his arm firmly at his side. Tomorrow or today? Was that really the only choice they had? Yes, yes it was. And it was horrible.
"Alright. Today?"
His hand rose in the air. And he felt his stomach twist into so many knots, they would never untangle. A moment of silence passed as Nick counted. The world around him held its breath and waited.
"It's decided."
. . .
Archie had never witnessed a Banishment. He never wanted to. It sounded just as horrible as it was. He wasn't sure how the Keepers were keeping so calm about all of it.
He gave a shaky breath through his nose, tasting the damp earth and sweat and green all around him. He didn't want to poison that pleasantness with what was about to come.
Baggers formed a line leading up to the North Maze Door, wood spears sharpened and at the ready. Flossy and Adne stood off to the side, farthest away from the majority of the Gladers. Flossy was acting as a small barrier between Adne and the boys. The Keepers and Nick had wooden poles raised in the air. They reminded him of brushless brooms.
They were all waiting on the formalities now.
Hank, as his Keeper, led Ash in, and the Baggers lowered their spears. They were still at the ready, in case Ash did something unexpected.
True to his nature, Ash was solemn faced and strode forward without struggle. Archie wasn't sure whether he wanted the boy to fight or not. Something – even a glimmer of emotion – was needed to remind them that he was human. Still, Ash remained as flat and unreadable as the high walls surrounding them.
He was led into the middle of the group, in front of the Keepers and between the Baggers. He would have no way to escape save for the Maze. Ash was forced down onto his knees roughly.
Archie wondered what Hank was thinking. This was one of the Gladers he had trained. This was someone he had worked with. This was someone he had trusted. This was someone he had called a friend. Out of all the Keepers, he knew him best. This had to be so much worse for him.
"Ash of the Bricknicks," Nick said, "you have been found guilty of hurting a member of the Glade and violating rule number two. The sentence you have been given is Banishment. Do you agree?"
Ash didn't say anything. He only nodded. Nick gulped and closed his eyes.
"Do you have any last words for us?"
"No."
The creaks and groans of the Maze doors started up as they began to close. The Keepers lowered their poles, ready to push him in if necessary. It wouldn't be.
"Alright then. Hank, cut him free."
Hank took a knife and quickly drew it through the ropes binding Ash's hands behind his head. Archie caught a glimpse of red as the blade nicked his cheek. Ash was forced back onto his feet. He started towards the Maze. He walked in, and he didn't stop walking.
They all waited, ready for him to come charging back, until the doors had closed for the evening. The loud thud sounded the end to it all.
It was… odd.
Something heavy dropped in his stomach. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel about what had transpired. Something told him that what he had witnessed wasn't normal, that that wasn't Ash.
He wondered, for the very first time, if there was something in their brains that enabled them to be controlled. Something the Creators put there.
. . .
He was in the sterile, white place again. The place he had only ever seen in his dreams – his memories? – the place he never wanted to see again. He was in a bedroom. Nothing was stuck to the walls to show who lived there, but he knew the drawers were filled with clothing. His clothing. Was this his room?
"Oh, good," a voice from the doorway said. It was as familiar to him now as it had been then – whenever this memory was. He turned around to see Flossy standing there. Her fair hair was pulled back into two tight, uniform braids. She was just a little younger than he was used to seeing. She looked almost too white to be here, as if she'd been hidden from the sun for too long.
"I was scared you wouldn't be here," she said, walking in as if she owned the place. She closed the door behind her, locking it. "Actually, I was more scared that you were caught up in what's going on downstairs."
"What's going on downstairs?" he said, sitting down at the desk as she took over his bed.
"Don't know, but the whole place has been quarantined. I think the Good Doctor might be making her move."
"What do you mean?"
"She's going to try and take over the Maze Trials and W.I.C.K.E.D. It's the only thing that makes sense. I wouldn't be surprised if her little army of scientists aren't down there right now."
He snorted.
Little army of scientists? Who could they be? Something struck him that he knew who they were, but his mind couldn't summon their faces to the front. If he saw them, he knew that he would recognize them.
"So, what do you think they're doing on the lower levels?" he said.
"Rumor has it the higher ups caught the Flare."
There was a pang in the back of his brain, a flicker of a memory of… something. Something bad.
And then he woke up.
. . .
For the first time since waking up in the Glade, that was the first full memory he could remember after coming out of his sleep. It was obvious that, even before the Maze, he and Flossy had been close. How close, he wasn't sure but he knew that there was some sort of instinct embedded in his brain that told him to protect her.
That memory had confirmed that. She had access to his room – private quarters? – wherever it was they came from. And she was familiar enough to feel comfortable to just walk right in. What were they before? Good friends, like they were now?
Maybe they were related, like Graham had said all those weeks ago. Cousins, perhaps? That was believable. Or, maybe second cousins or even distant relations. Maybe step-siblings for all he knew. He could live with any of that.
Should he tell her his thoughts? Yeah, that might be a good idea.
"What are you laughing at?" Graham said as he slipped into a clean pair of pants. He hadn't even realized that the other Glader was awake. It was early, he supposed, that it made sense. He was a Cook after all.
"What?" he said.
"You did that little breath through the nose thing that people do when they quietly laugh. What was so funny?"
"Nothing. Well, nothing much. Just thinking how funny Flossy is sometimes, like when she tries to beat one of us up."
"Oi, she can catch you with one of her nails. That's what hurts. Also, her fingers and elbows are really bony."
"Been jabbed one too many times?"
"I honestly think that she hates me."
"No, she doesn't. I don't think she has a hate bone in her body."
"Those fingers and elbows say differently."
"Don't you have work to do?" Archie said, sitting up.
"Argh," someone – Chris the Track-hoe – said, tossing his pillow at them. "Stop being loud. You're interrupting my indigestion time."
"Indigestion?" Graham said. Together, he and Archie raised their brows and bit their cheeks to keep themselves from laughing.
"...You know what I meant."
"Go back to sleep, Chris. You're not you when you're tired."
Archie rolled his eyes and looked back at his pillow. While he was tired, he didn't think he would be able to get any more sleep. So, he got up and started to get ready. He was the first Runner awake that day.
Before breakfast, he stretched and got a few of the slackers up. He felt surprisingly motivated that day, despite the gray skies and silver light.
He and Justin ran their usual route, keeping to the trails they knew – well, Justin knew. Archie made note of what had changed and marked their path without much thought.
It was nice, the sound of his feet slapping the ground in time with the lub-dub of his heart. Right before lunch, it started to rain. They pair took shelter under an outcropping he didn't know could exist in the Maze – as if the Creators knew that they would need it that day. Or, perhaps, they'd shifted the Maze just a smidge to keep them from getting wet.
"I hate the rain," Justin said.
"Why?"
"My shoes get all wet, and then I have to run in wet shoes. Plus it's hard to get good traction out here when it rains. The moss makes the ground slick. You can easily break something if you're not careful."
"Remind me to always take a day off when it rains."
"Can't. We're Runners."
And Justin was right. They had to map out every change the Maze made day by day. It was their only hope of finding a way out. He'd heard about – and seen – a few escape attempts. None of them had been very successful.
The last one had involved making ladders to go all the way to the top. They'd only been able to make one, but they'd all known it wouldn't be able to hold the weight of any single person. No one was light enough to climb it.
The Builders had ended up breaking the ladder down into sections and replacing their old ones. At least the attempt wasn't completely wasted.
With a sigh, he dusted his hands off on his pants and looked out into the rain stained world of gray and green. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of something that wasn't quite right. It was a dark blue, stained with something brown.
Slowly, he made his way over to it and picked it up. It was made of fabric – a piece of blue fabric – and it was soaked. When he got back to the little shelter, he wrung it out and unfolded it. It was a shirt.
"That's Ash's," Justin said quietly. He took it from Archie's hands and folded it up, tucking it in his pack.
What struck him the most wasn't that they had found the article of clothing. It was what stained the shirt in that brown hue. It had a metallic scent that hit the bridge of his nose and roof of his mouth in that odd way. He'd know it anywhere.
Blood.
Author stuff cont'd.: (jazz hands) And now for the plot!
Also, like last time, at the end of the second part (which is coming up here in a few chapters), I'll be taking a week off to organize some things and rewrite or edit others.
Also, I quoted my sister in this chapter. No one else can blame me for interrupting her indigestion time than her. Much love to her, hearts all around.