Chapter 21- This is not aMAZEing

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Disclaimer: ALL CONTENT BELONGS TO JAMES DASHNER OF COURSE. YOU SHOULD KNOW THIS BY NOW. Victoria and her plot belong to moi.

Thomas

He felt himself become overcome by the initial fear of being stuck in the maze- at night. The sound of Minho moaning snapped him out of his frozen state. He ran over to the two Gladers and kneeled near Alby who seemed to be stung. Both were covered in sweat and grime along with scratches and bruises.

 "Greenie," Minho said, "if you think that was brave comin' out here, listen up. You're the shuckiest-shuck-faced shuck there ever was. You're as good as dead, just like us."

 Thomas felt his face heat up—he'd expected at least a little gratitude. "I couldn't just sit there and leave you guys out here to die."

"And what good are you with us?" Minho rolled his eyes. "Whatever, dude. Break the Number One Rule, whatever.""You're welcome. I was just trying to help." 

Thomas felt like kicking him in the face. Minho forced a bitter laugh, then knelt back on the ground beside Alby. Thomas took a closer look at the collapsed boy and realized just how bad things were. Alby looked on the edge of death. His dark skin was losing color fast and his breaths were quick and shallow. Hopelessness rained down on Thomas. "What happened?" he asked, trying to put aside his anger.

 "Don't wanna talk about it," Minho said as he checked Alby's pulse and bent over to listen to his chest. "Let's just say the Grievers can play dead really well." This statement took Thomas by surprise. "So he was ... bitten? Stung? Is he going through the Changing?" 

"Boy, you've got a lot to learn" was all Minho said. Thomas thought he was gonna scream but he held back. Why couldn't they tell him anything?

 "Is he going to die?" he forced himself to say, cringing at how shallow and empty it sounded. "Since we didn't make it back before sunset, probably. Could be dead in an hour—I don't know how long it takes if you don't get the Serum. Course, we'll be dead, too, so don't get all weepy for him. Yep, we'll all be nice and dead soon." He said it so matter-of-factly, Thomas could hardly process the meaning of the words. 

But fast enough, the dire reality of the situation began to hit Thomas, and his insides turned to rot."We're really going to die?" he asked, unable to accept it. "You're telling me we have no chance?" 

"None." 

Thomas was annoyed at Minho's constant negativity. "Oh, come on—there has to be something we can do! How many Grievers do you think'll come after us?" He peered down the dark corridor that led deeper into the Maze, as if expecting the creatures to arrive then, summoned by the sound of their name.   

"Not sure." Minho said nonchalantly. He pulled out a water bottle and drank from it greedily, but left about half of it. Thomas thought about Ben and the runners who had been stung and survived. He voiced his thought to Minho who shut him down, again. The two stubborn males went back and forth at each other until finally, Thomas snapped. He felt anger creeping in to compete with his fear and panic. "I'm just trying to help, man. Why don't you quit moping at every word I say and talk to me?" 

Minho abruptly jumped at Thomas and grabbed him by the shirt. "You don't understand, shuck-face! You don't know anything! We're dead, you hear me? Dead!" 

Thomas knew if Victoria was here she would've probably slapped Minho in the face for his negativity. But Victoria wasn't here. She was probably dead too. For some reason, he couldn't get her out of his mind. Her face kept coming up front and was trying to tell him something but he couldn't grasp it. All he knew was that she was something to him.

Victoria. He thought. Who are you?

The Greenie opened his mouth to speak, but closed it quickly when he heard the noise. Minho's head popped up; he looked down one of the darkened stone corridors. Thomas felt his own breath quicken. 

It came from deep within the Maze, a low, haunting sound. A whirring that had a metallic ring every few seconds, like sharpened knives rubbing against each other tauntingly. It grew louder by the second. A hollow moan filled the air, and then something that sounded like the clanking of chains. All of it, together, was horrifying, and the (very) small amount of courage that Thomas had gathered began to slip away. Minho stood, his face barely visible in the dying light. But when he spoke, Thomas imagined his eyes wide with terror. "We have to split up—it's our only chance. Just keep moving. Don't stop moving!"And then he turned and ran, disappearing in seconds, swallowed by the Maze and darkness.  

Finally. Thomas mentally said. Something useful has come out of mouth. Before he grabbed Alby and lugged him away from the sound of the Griever. 

As he dragged Alby, Thomas cursed Minho out under his breath. How could he leave me here? He thought Minho was better than that, but guess not. Suddenly the Griever sounded much closer than before. Thomas froze and looked behind him, praying it hadn't suddenly appeared. To his luck, it hadn't. 

For a second   he thought Alby's breath had stopped. He quickly dropped beside him and listened for a heart beat. Alby's heart continued to beat but in irregular rhythm. Thomas sighed and tried to look for a way to conceal themselves from the oncoming Grievers. The only place they could possibly hide was in the ivy that covered the wall. The ivy!

Quickly, Thomas dragged Alby over to a wall that had a considerable amount of ivy on it. Then he set to work, wrapped Alby's arms in ivy. He stopped for a second to wipe away sweat but then the whirring sound came back, followed by more clinking. There's more than one, Thomas thought, horror seeping into his bones.

He tied the ivy around Alby in a haste, desperately trying to keep his friend alive but also survive. Thomas was quick to tie the remaining ivy around Alby's limbs. He then tested the ivy out, and was surprised that it held his weight. He threw his fist up in the air with a small cry of victory, but fell silent when a loud moan rang through the eerie corridor. The Griever must have been close; very close.

He snatched a vine with both hands and started to climb, directly over the spot where he'd just tied up Alby. The thick leaves of the ivy served well as handholds, and Thomas was elated to find that the many cracks in the stone wall were perfect supports for his feet as he climbed. He began to think how easy it would be without ...

He refused to finish the thought. He couldn't leave Alby behind.

Using the same method of pushing each of Alby's arms and legs up two or three feet at a time, Thomas slowly made his way up the stone wall. He climbed until he was right below the body, wrapped a vine around his own chest for support, then pushed Alby up as far as he could, limb by limb, and tied them off with ivy. Then he repeated the whole process.

Climb, wrap, push up, tie off. Climb, wrap, push up, tie off. The Grievers at least seemed to be moving slowly through the Maze, giving him time. Thomas was exhausted, completely and utterly wasted. His limbs ached, his chest heaved up and down, trying to inhale as much air as he could. He was unable to lift Alby anymore. This is where they would have to hide, this is where they would make their stand.

The Griever was close now, nearly under them. Thomas held his breath, praying in his head. Maybe it won't see us , he thought. Just maybe. But the reality of the situation sank like a stone in his belly. The Griever had already seen him.

The Griever stopped under them, going unfathomably quiet. Then with a loud shriek, it started moving again;

whirrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

click-click-click

whirrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

click-click-click

Then it began climbing the wall.

***
Meanwhile, a very sweaty Minho ran through the Maze, hopping to lose the Griever that was groaning behind him. He'd been running ever since he left Thomas. Shuck , he thought, I'm so stupid. The poor Greenie would never be able to survive alone in there, especially since he seemed dead-set on saving Alby. Minho continued running, never stopping in fear that his life would end very soon. He didn't want to die before they escaped the Glade, before he got to the world outside.

Suddenly, Minho tripped and cursed as he fell forward. The Griever was right on his heels now, he could feel it behind him. He twisted around and started crawling backward as it dauntingly stepped forward, again and again. Minho was frozen in fear. There was no way he could get up and run, there wasn't enough time. He closed his eyes, and awaited the final blow.

He slowly fluttered his eyes open when he felt nothing. Minho looked up to find what possibly could be the most shocking thing he'd seen yet. In front of him stood a very much alive Victoria, who let out a battle cry and started whacking the Griever with a club. The Griever seemed to flinch at her strikes and slowly withered away. With a final cry, Victoria stabbed the club through its eye, making it screech and slither away.

Victoria looked-to put it lightly- like a shuck. Her hair was knotted and matted with blood and grime. Her face was bruised and cut up, also dotted with blood and grime. Her clothes were ripped and in the same condition as the rest of her. Victoria was breathing deeply, like it was hard to get air into her lungs. Her tanned skin was now a feverish pale, with her veins on full view. Her once full-of-life eyes were now shockingly bright and unhinged.

She stepped forward after whipping her sweaty brow and lent a hand to Minho. He grasped her hand tightly while she pulled him up with ease. The Runner stared at her for a long while, making sure she wasn't just a fragment of his imagination.

"I thought you were dead, shuck, we all did!" Minho cried out before scooping her into a tight hug. His arms coiled around her tightly as he breathed in her familiar scent. Soon her arms followed and wound around his neck as she nestled her face into his neck, seeking comfort from someone who was familiar.

Victoria was the first to break apart, picking up her club and swinging it around absentmindedly. She turned to Minho and motioned for him to follow her, "the Griever'll be back soon. I bought us some time to get away but it'll be back with company." Minho nodded at her and followed her down the corridor.

"So... what happened? We could hear you screaming all night." Minho commented as they ran through the silent Maze. Victoria pondered whether she should spare him the gruesome details or not. "Well for starters I was stung." Minho stumbled and whipped around to face her.

"How in the hell are you... normal right now?!" He shouted. Victoria frowned and continued running, forcing Minho to catch up. "I, uh, stole some of the serum from the Med-jacks and brought it with me. When I got stung I used it on me. That's why I was screaming all night." Minho nodded like he totally knew how she felt. 
 

Suddenly Victoria slammed into something and was sent hurdling to the ground. The thing on top of her started groaning  and moaning. Minho screamed out her name in shock and threw the person off of her. He grabbed her arms and lifted her up, putting her behind him. They both looked down surprised to see Thomas holding his head in his arms. He looked up and was surprised to see Victoria standing beside Minho.

The Griever appeared right at that moment. Thomas scrambled up and shouted for them to run. Minho and Victoria following along right away. They all ended up at the cliffs, where an endless black abyss lay waiting. The three of them stopped and tried to catch their breaths when four or five Grievers blocked the way they came.


"This is so not amazeing." Victoria said, snickering at her own pun. The two boys looked at her peculiarly, Minho wondering if she'd really overcome the affects of the changing.

"These things may be vicious," Minho said, "but they're dumb as dirt. Stand here, close to me, facing—" Thomas cut him off. "I know. I'm ready."

They shuffled their feet until they stood scrunched up together in front of the drop-off at the very middle of the corridor, facing the Grievers. Their heels were only inches from the edge of the Cliff behind them, nothing but air waiting after that. The only thing left for them was courage.

"We need to be in sync!" Minho yelled, almost drowned out by the earsplitting sounds of the thundering spikes rolling along the stone. "On my mark!"

Why the Grievers had lined up single file was a mystery. Maybe the Maze proved just narrow enough to make it awkward for them to travel side by side. But one after the other, they rolled down the stone hallway, clicking and moaning and ready to kill. Dozens of yards had become dozens of feet, and the monsters were only seconds away from crashing into the waiting Gladers.

"Ready," Minho said steadily. "Not yet ... not yet ..."

"Now!" screamed Minho.

Just as the first Griever's arm extended out to nip at them, Minho, Victoria and Thomas dove in opposite directions, each toward one of the outer walls of the corridor. The tactic had worked for Thomas earlier, and judging by the horrible screeching sound that escaped the first Griever, it had worked again. The monster flew off the edge of the Cliff. Oddly, its battle cry cut off sharply instead of fading as it plummeted to the depths beyond.

The Maze was silent for a moment before Victoria's loud whoop of victory disturbed the peace. The rest of the Grievers seemed to realize that they were supposed to kill them and threw themselves at the Gladers. One had its sights set on Victoria, making her squeal as she threw herself to the opposite side to avoid being Griever food. It barely missed her, but she managed to kick its leg and it flew into the oblivion. Both Thomas and Minho finished with their Grievers after a moment, and all three sat against the wall trying to catch their breaths.


"Good job, Tommy! Didn't know you had it in you!" Victoria praised with a smile, hiding the fact that her ankle was killing her. Thomas blushed and looked away. Minho only smirked and stared at Victoria, taking notice that she was clutching her leg and voiced his confusion. "Uh...I kinda sprained it trying to escape the Griever just now." She explained sheepishly. The boys groaned but stood up, offering her a hand. With a struggle she was on her feet, but almost fell over with the pain.

"Come 'ere." Thomas sighed and picked her up. She was quick to protest but he shut her up, "we need to get back to the Glade as fast as possible but with your leg we won't make it." Minho nodded along, knowing he was too weak to carry her. Victoria looked around with a smile before turning to the boys.

"C'mon guys. It's time to go home!"

__________________________________________________________

AN: please please please read

oh god 

GUESS WHO GOT HER PHONE TAKEN AWAY????

THIS GIRL!

it sucks. it really does.  ive been all messed up since.

















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