Quiet is Violent {Newt | The Maze Runner}

20. Sacrifice or Survival

TRIGGER WARNING: PANIC ATTACK and VIOLENCE

Everyone stood, frozen by the Maze's entrance, fear and anticipation crackling through the air, all conflict from earlier that day forgotten at the loud thump of the Maze doors. Tasha felt the bile rise in the back of her throat and felt as if she might throw up, her stomach churning unpleasantly. All the gathered Gladers visibly recoiled at the sudden noise, clutching at their ears in pain, the noise echoing throughout the Glade, louder than it usually was. Tasha's suspicious were confirmed and her heartbeat accelerated as she turned swiftly, watching the other three doors of the Glade groaned open, one by one, leaving gaping darkness in their wake. Newt grabbed Tasha's hand and pulled her close out of habit, finding comfort in having their arms pressed together, side by side in the blue light of early evening.

"Hey, Chuck." Thomas turned to the youngest of the Gladers once all the doors were open, he was cautious, his expression serious and tense, "I want you to go to the Council hall, start barricading the doors." Thomas told him quietly, watching to make sure Chuck heard his every word. Chuck didn't hesitate in comprehending the request and nodded furiously, running in the direction of the Council Hall.

"Winston," Newt called out, louder than Thomas, but not by a lot, still uncertain of what the open gates would bring, but his gut told him it couldn't be good, "you go with him." He told the Keeper of the Slicers, who followed Chuck immediately.

"Grab the others," Gally's authoritative voice was directed at Frypan and Zart, who snapped to attention. Gally had that commanding air about him and, for once, he was using it for the good of the Glade, "tell them to go to the forest and hide, now!" He demanded. The boys nodded, taking Gally's request seriously.

"Minho, I want you to grab every weapon you can find," Thomas breathed to the Keeper of the Runners, his voice quiet enough for only the closest few to hear, "I'll meet you at the council hall." Minho took off at a run without waiting for Thomas's say so, and Tasha felt herself tense up, ready to spring into action. She kept her eyes fixed on the gates while her insides began to burn, fear scratching at her throat. She knew Newt could feel her trembling but he thankfully didn't comment on it, he simply clutched her hand tighter, despite the sweatiness of her palms. "Hey, Teresa, you and I are going to go get Alby, alright?" Thomas asked the girl, to which she nodded, seriously, about to head off in the direction of the Med-Jack hut when a scream came from across the Glade. All heads whipped almost simultaneously to look at the source of the noise.

"Grievers!" The other Gladers called out, running from the door that they stood by. Tasha felt her blood run cold, her breaths coming in short sharp gasps and she dropped Newt's hand, setting her target destination. If she did let out a whimper at the roaring groan of the Grievers emanating from inside the Maze, no-one commented on it. The other Gladers turned to face the still empty Maze before Thomas began backing away slowly, cautiously, as he waited for the right moment as his voice became a roar that cut through the fear and the tension.

"Alright, everybody hide!" He yelled. Newt trusted Tasha to follow along behind him, not looking to see where she had gotten to, but rather he followed Thomas. He trusted her so he let her slip from his mind as he focused on keeping himself alive. There was a flurry of movement with fear like a thick fog hanging in the Glade, everyone running on adrenaline and sheer terror. Their group headed for the crops, Thomas realising that the forest was too far away for them to get to. Under the cover of corn and darkness, they waited anticipating halting them as they waited to make their next move.

"Alright, stay down!" Zart called out, huddled over in the field close to Newt. They could hear the screams of the other Gladers, see the flickers of what was sure to end up as a raging fire somewhere near the huts, but they hoped it wasn't - for now they didn't care. They were silent and motionless, illuminated by a single flaming torch, a moment of solidarity as they shared a silence laced with tense fear. There was a wail to the right and Newt flinched, hearing what must be one of the others being taken by a Griever, followed by another unearthly groan, much closer this time. Newt couldn't blame Tasha for her panic attack, not that he would ever dream of it, but if this is the fate that those stuck in the Maze were subjected to, well, she had been stronger than he had realised. A mechanical arm snaked up above the corn around them, hanging over their little group, pincer-like fingers clicking ominously before it lashed out, smashing Zart to the ground and pinning him there. It took the Gladers a moment to react, frozen with shock, it happened all at once, they screamed, lunging for him, but he was whipped into the air and out of sight. It didn't take long after that for them to bolt the other way, looking for a clearing in the crops, Zart's cries echoing through their mind.