Griever Tamer|| The Maze Runner¹/ Minho

|C.28|

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The last two nights weren't better then the last, full of screams and terror. Blake watched as two Gladers were carried away, trying to cling to their last few moments of life, knowing that death and pain were soon to come. She hated how the Grievers showed no remorse...no mercy. Time was becoming limited, and people were growing fewer.

They had to stop this.

Thomas had yet to wake from the Changing, but Med-jacks were concluding it would be soon. His skin wasn't deathly pale, and the green veins had disappeared. Blake hoped Thomas absorbed memories that were useful, that he would finally tell them who he and Teresa were, and better yet a way out of this death-filled maze.

Earlier that day, Newt had made an announcement, stating that the Grievers were, in fact, taking one Glader each night. The day followed with frantic Gladers, trying to get answers that no one knew. Most people were gray, hopeless, and afraid. Teresa kept Blake informed about the code, but it hadn't changed in the slightest.

Blake went searching for Newt, hoping he would make her feel a bit better. She found him downstairs with the maps. His eyes were glued on a piece of paper, he looked so distraught and hopeless. "Nothing new?"

Newt looked up, shaking his head. "No, starting to believe there is no bloody solution. And now, everyone is runnin' like their head is chopped off!"

"Yeah, I knew something big was gonna happen with the Grievers. Well, this is it, we're all doomed. I can't help but blame myself because I made the creators." Blake was drained, and guilt was pushing her down, deeper and deeper.

"The Creators made you make them, right?"

"Yeah."

"Then, stop blaming yourself. I'm just worried that people will start turning on one another, trying to outlast each other, to have one more day of life then the rest. I don't want that to happen..."

"I know. I don't either. We'll figure out...I hope." That all Blake could do was hope. Hope they would get out. Hope that Thomas would wake up soon. Hope that no one else would die.

Blake huffed out a breath, plopping herself in one of the chairs. "Something else has been on my mind. I had another flashback."

Newt's eyebrows knitted together. "About?"

"It was about my mother. She was really sick. Looked almost like she had lost all of her sanity. She said she hoped there would a cure. That she couldn't take it anymore. She also said I couldn't let them take my siblings and me."

"Who?"

"Some people she called Wicked. I keep seeing and hearing that word," Blake mumbled, her voice barely over a whisper. "When I woke up in the Maze I found this note. It said...Wicked is good."

"Some stuff we get says Wicked, but we stopped worrying about it after a while. Why did your mom not want them to take you if they were good? You think they are the people who took us?"

"I don't know, but that isn't the weird thing. I have this tattoo that says W.C.K.D. Wicked," Blake pulled up her sleeve, revealing the words that were permanently inked to her skin. "Then, the Beetle Blades' eyes spell out Wicked."

"I—"

Suddenly, the door bursted open. Chuck stood there. He was out of breath, and his face showed urgency. Only bad thoughts popped in Blake's head. "What's wrong, Chuck? Did the Grievers come? Is everyone okay?"

"Thomas...he's awake!"

Blake and Newt shared a look before bolting to the Homestead. "Wait!" Chuck called, running over to them.

"What, Chucky?" Newt asked, turning his pace into a fast walk. He moved quite swiftly despite his limp.

"He said there needs to be a Gather. Soon as possible." Newt nodded, walking up to the door that lead to Thomas's room.

Thomas looked good as new. Brown hair a little messy, but other than that-Blake couldn't tell he went through the Changing at all. Newt sat next to Thomas while Blake stood near his bed. "Tommy—you barely look sick."

"Yeah, you look better then I did when I woke up. Seriously, Thomas—you look brand new!" Blake said, her lips forming a sly grin.

Thomas nodded. "I feel a little queasy, but other than that, I'm fine. Thought it'd be a lot worse."

Newt shook his head, his face a mixture of anger and a bit of awe. "What you did was half brave and half bloody stupid. Seems like you're pretty good at that." He paused, shook his head. "I know why you did it. What memories came back? Anything that'll help?"

"Please, tell us some good news," Blake looked at Thomas, inhaling an unsteady breath.

"We need to have a Gathering," Thomas said. "Before I start forgetting some of this stuff."

"Yeah, Chuck told me-we'll do it. But why? What did you figure out?"

"It's a test, Newt-the whole thing is a test."

Newt nodded. "Like an experiment."

Thomas shook his head. "No, you don't get it. They're weeding us out, seeing if we'll give up, finding the best of us. Throwing variables at us, trying to make us quit. Testing our ability to hope and fight. Sending Blake here to pull the trigger, so Teresa could shut everything down, but that was only the last part."

"What do you mean I pulled the trigger?"

Thomas shook his head. "Teresa is the trigger, you were the thing that gave the okay for everything to happen. Didn't you notice that once you were stung, everything started to go downhill?"

"But-"

"I'll explain everything at the Gather, but you see there is one more ... final analysis. Now it's time for the last test. To escape."

Newt's brow crinkled in confusion. "What do you mean? You know a way out?"

"Yeah. Call the Gathering. Now."

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This is gonna be the last update for a while. I going to be super busy for the next few days, so I won't have much time to write and edit. I'm also planning on starting a new series once this book is finished. Stay tune for those! But like always, I hoped you enjoyed the chapter.