Quiet is Violent {Newt | The Maze Runner}

4. Greenie or Thomas

Tasha had considered throwing her burning spear at Gally several times over the past five minutes, waiting with it in hand for the rest of the Gladers to gather their own spears, however she ultimately decided against it. She’d done it before, just missing him and singeing off enough of his hair for him to smell the burning, and a week in the slammer was not worth it especially if her intention was to miss. As it was, she stood beside Alby, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, waiting for the signal for everyone to throw their flaming spears at the pyre to start the bonfire. Minho stood on her other side, expression hard, clutching his own torch in his right hand, holding it aloft, careful not to put the flame too close to his face.

“Light ‘em up!” Tash could see the Greenie flinch as Alby shouted across the gathering of people, flames lighting up the night sky, the bonfire crackling to life before them, bathing the Gladers in a warm glow. Tasha shied away from the fire, having almost fallen into it while intoxicated by Gally’s brew a few too many times, even falling close enough to burn her hands, the scarring plainly visible against her palms. She watched from her position on the edge of the crowd, beside Minho, as one of the newer boys tried a few flips that he had been practicing, and almost pulled it off, if not for landing on his knees. Tasha took a swig of her drink, the horrendous taste burning her throat and searing through her veins, readying herself with a few quick stretches, before performing a roundoff back handspring across the cleared area to the hollers of the surrounding boys. Tasha prided herself on her trademark flip, she had learned it off of a Runner who died within the maze, and she showed it every bonfire in honour of his memory. Newt grinned from where he and the Greenie stood beside her once she had landed, his own thoughts flashing to the flipping Runner and how devastated the Glade has been to lose him. She grinned back, taking his cup from his hands and finishing the last sip as he feigned mock indignation.

“That was my bloody drink, shank.” He scoffed as she lowered the now empty cup. Tasha raised a single, amused eyebrow at him, cup still clutched to her chest. The rest of the group had split up  by now, some were dancing in the light of the bonfire, some were eating the food that had been brought up in Thomas’ box, some, mostly Runners, were brooding by the fire. Only the Greenie was left to witness their interaction.

“Willing to run for it?” She asked, her voice low and playful, as it only was when she was intoxicated, tapping him on the nose with the cup. A responding smirk came over Newt’s face, it looked as if he was about to agree, eyes flicking to the cup, but reached out and snatched the it from her hands.

“Not even a little bit.” He told her, as he took it, Tasha realising what had happened a few moments later. By then, there was silence and Newt’s expression dropped, as if he was contemplating something far more serious. “Where’s Ben?” Tasha hesitated, her own face dropping as she thought; she hadn’t seen him since he’d gone to the Med-Jacks, she knew something was wrong, but she didn’t want to panic. She glanced over to where Minho was sitting by the fire, surrounded by the other Runners. Sensing her gaze, he glanced up at her, and tipped his head to the side, dark eyes asking silent questions, as they always did.

“Ben?” She mouthed, it took a moment with Minho frowning, before he pointed in the direction of the homestead. Tasha drew in a deep breath, looking over at the run-down, half-assed excuse for a home, before she nodded in understanding and turned back to Newt. “Sleeping.” She told him, to which Newt nodded, solemnly. Looking at her hands, suddenly feeling smothered in the group atmosphere, she coughed awkwardly, “I’m… going to run.” She mumbled, avoiding Newt’s gaze and took off before he could talk her out of it.

“Shouldn’t someone go after her?” The Greenie’s voice was loud enough that Tasha could hear it a few metres away, his eyes on her retreating back. She wasn’t sure what Newt was going, whether he was avoiding looking at her, or was watching her leave like he always did, but she heard his answer.