twenty

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TWENTY. 

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Alby let us have the next two days off of work to help with the shock. It didn't seem like nearly enough. The hours stretched on and on until they felt like years, and a strong sense of despondence stifled the air like physical weights on our shoulders. Every smile was a sin. As soon as we started to feel any kind of joy, it would trickle back into sorrow almost instantly.

Nick being gone forever was a difficult thought to process. My mind never wanted to believe it, and every time his name floated to the surface of my brain, I felt a pinch in my heart. It was so strange not to see him walking around the Glade. The fact that he was truly dead was something I couldn't accept. But I had to- it was real.

Clark had slipped into this strange silence where he wouldn't speak to anyone. Garret had to sort of take over for him at the Farm, directing people on what to do when their Keeper wouldn't respond. His eyes were constantly glazed over like he wasn't seeing. He moved like a robot. It was as if his body was on autopilot, going through motions without his mind having to direct him to.

Getting back to work was a difficult task for everyone. Nobody wanted to when our leader had just been sliced in half, but according to Alby, it was essential for us to fall back into routine.

We buried Nick on the second night. After the Med-jacks tried to figure out what exactly had cut Nick and deduced there had to be some hidden blades in the Box Hole, Alby threw a fit. He got so angry at the Creators that he ran out to the middle of the Glade and screamed curse words at the sky. Some of the older kids covered the younger ones' ears.

Alby was furious. He demanded Gally hand him over one of the boards the Builders had on hand. When Gally tried to explain that they needed the boards to fix up the Homestead, Alby stole one anyway. He took it out during Nick's burial and placed it above the remains. Letters were messily scrawled into the smooth wood.

Let this half-shank be a warning to all: You can't escape through the Box Hole.

Short and sweet.

Clark came out of his lapse of silence with all the knowledge in the world- or so he said. His voice was throaty when he spoke to me, barely intelligible from how raspy it was. We sat on my bed on the fourth night, me drawing and him staring off into space. The comfortable silence was broken by his voice.

"I have all the knowledge in the world," he informed me suddenly. It took me a second to realize he spoke, so when I looked up from my sketchbook, he was staring at me expectantly.

"Oh, yeah?" I asked as I closed the book and sat up straighter against my pillow. "What's that?"

"First of all, I realized that I suck," he replied bluntly. "I mean, big-time. I had a chance and I didn't take it. It's all Luke's fault."

My eyebrows furrowed. "Why is it Luke's fault?"

"Because I'm just now realizing that I liked Nick. I mean, yeah, Luke has a nice face and all, but that's about it. What he said to you a few months ago was uncalled for and suckish. But Nick...he was nice, and he was the one who really understood me, who--" Clark swallowed thickly and released a shaking breath. "I don't think I'll ever get over it."

"Of course you won't," I sympathized, scooting closer to him slowly. My braced leg moved heavily off the side of my mattress until I was seated against the wall. "I don't think anybody really 'gets over' death. It kind of just gets easier."

Another trembling exhale. "I sure hope it does, because I feel like klunk right now."

I rested my head on Clark's shoulder and felt a slight pressure, meaning he had done the same as well. His hand slipped into mine and clasped it tightly. My heart swelled. Months ago, I would never have pictured myself sitting like this with him. We were polar opposites - Clark was loud and opinionated while I had been introverted - but somehow we managed to fit. It turned out that there was more than just the sarcastic side of Clark. He was sensitive and cared deeply about others, as well as loyal. I was proud to call him one of my best friends.

"New Greenie soon," Newt announced at breakfast the next day. He said it in the middle of our meal as if it had been an afterthought, staring into his pancake blankly. His skin had regained its healthy glow and his frame even thickened out a little more due to Frypan practically forcing food down his throat.

"That's weird," Minho sighed and absentmindedly swirled his piece of pancake around in a sea of syrup. "It doesn't feel like we should be getting any more. I just feel like the world should stop. Nick is dead but the earth is still spinning without him and I hate that."

"I get you, hermano," Theo agreed. "Every time I look around, I keep expecting to see him."

"Can we not talk about him?" Clark muttered. He had his arms crossed and was staring intently at his untouched plate. "I might be sick."

The table lapsed into silence after that, at least up until Garret brought up the Greenie again.

"I hope it's another Med-jack," he said. "Poor Clint and Jeff have to do all the work. All those splinters and bloody knuckles and scrapes."

"Yeah?" Theo challenged with a raise of his eyebrow. "I want him to be a Builder. We're the ones who make this old place look good."

"He? Who said it'll be a he?" I asked. "Maybe it's another girl- I'm sick of all you guys."

Minho pretended to appear offended by my comment. He placed a hand to his chest. "I can speak girl very well, thank you." After clearing his throat, he said in a high-pitched voice, "Oh my God! Isn't Minho, like, the hottest guy you've ever seen?"

The entire table stared at him blankly.

"Oh, come on," he huffed when not a single one of us cracked a smile. "That was funny."

"Minho, that's not what I sound like," I pointed out.

"Not that you know of."

That day was spent sitting in the Map Room and continuing the sketch I had been working on for the past few days. I couldn't bring myself to finish it yet; somehow, no matter what I did to fix it up, it always seemed to look wrong. Like there was something missing.

The picture was of all of those we'd lost so far in the Glade. All fifteen of them fit onto the page, appearing to push one another out of the way in order to be seen. Everyone was making a silly face for the invisible camera. Link was in the front with a half-smile on his face. Nick had a boy named Eddie on his back, holding him up with one arm and his other hand making a rockstar sign. He was sticking his tongue out and had his eyes squeezed shut.

My pencil hovered above the page before writing at the top:

Gone but not forgotten.

Just as I finished writing that, a loud, ear-splitting scream caused me to jump and look up from the picture. I immediately stood and slipped the sketchbook in my back pocket before walking outside of the Map Room. Everyone else seemed to notice it as well. Their gazes were directed toward the West Door, where I assumed it had come from.

"Nadia!" Newt called to me, hastily approaching with an expression of worry. I couldn't help but notice his obvious limp as he ran. "Who's out in Section Four today?"

"Ben," I replied in a single breath of stark realization.

"Do you think he got Stung?" he asked, directing his gaze back toward the Maze.

I shook my head, mouth falling slightly open in a gape as my heart increased its beating. "I don't know. But Ken is probably running over there now to see what happened- he's in Section Six today."

"Okay," Newt responded with an understanding nod. He was breathing unsteadily. "Should I send someone out there just in case?"

I hesitated. The fact that Newt was still looking to me for orders almost made it feel like he was a Runner again, that neither of us had our leg injuries and things were as they were last year. But those people without limps or chunky braces were long gone. Newt wasn't a Runner. He was only asking me because I knew the Runners best and he wasn't used to being in charge. It was almost startling to realize that he was, ultimately, in a higher position of power than I was.

"Um," I stuttered as I thought. My brain worked remotely well under pressure after this long in the Maze, which was a pretty good thing, because the wrong decision could cost both Ken and Ben their lives. "Yes. Ken should know the Maze by now, but he's only thirteen. I think he could use an extra pair of hands."

Newt nodded again. "I'll go get Colt, then."

I watched as he ran back toward the Builders, whom Colt helped on days he wasn't running in the Maze. My eyes latched back onto the West Door almost immediately after. The wind rustled my ponytail. An urge to go out there myself and help them blossomed, becoming more and more inviting as the seconds passed. I bit my lip and glanced down at my brace. I could move extremely well on it; could I run?

Experimentally, I took a heavy step with more force than necessary. A small spike of pain struck up my leg, but it was bearable. My other foot moved as well until I was doing something close to a jog. The familiarity of controlling my breathing and pumping my arms came as second nature. It filled me with catharsis. I felt like a bird, trapped for so long in a cage and finally set free.

Except the bird had clipped wings and couldn't fly. The jog was hardly doable in and of itself, and if I slowed for even a second, I couldn't go any faster again.

Colt passed me, his curly black hair moving in time with the breeze. He sent me an incredulous look that quickly morphed into shock. His body turned so he was running backward.

"Nadia, are you crazy?" he shouted to me as his feet hit the stone. "The shuck are you doing?"

"I want to help!" I replied, voice full of determination and a little pain. My jog was much slower than Colt's. I found myself jealous at how easily he ran. Oh, what I'd give to be able to move like that for just one day.

He shook his head fervently. "No way. Get back in there."

"Shut up," I grumbled lowly. "I'm coming with you."

Colt sent a worried glance toward the Maze that stretched on for exactly a quarter of a mile before turning to the right. His green eyes met mine, filled with panic. Then he turned and started sprinting full-speed toward Section Four.

"I know every inch of the Maze, Colt!" I shouted after him with slight anger in my tone. Did he really think he could just lose me and that would be it? "You can't just expect me to turn around because you're faster!"

"What the hell, Nadia?"

A pair of strong arms wrapped around me and picked me off of my feet. I thrashed and kicked as they started to turn me around, jamming the heel of my brace into their shin. It was no use; Gally was too strong.

"Let me go!" I demanded shrilly. My muscles strained as I fought to break his grip. "Let me go! I want to help. Let me go!"

By then, I had attracted the attention of even more Gladers. They started to stare as Gally brought me out of the Maze. The sunlight, which had been blocked by the high walls, made me close my eyes and simply fight with everything I had. Gally grunted with every jab of my elbows and hard kick.

"What's goin' on over here?" Alby asked as he stormed over to the West Door. The expression on his face was weary and concerned.

"Nadia tried to go into the Maze," Gally informed him simply. When I hit him again, he hissed, "Will you cut that out?"

"You'd get yourself killed out there," Alby told me in a voice full of disappointment.

"I don't care!" I exclaimed. "I - I can't lose another one. Not another part of my family."

That shifted the mood entirely. A new weight settled into the situation, and the unmentioned Gladers we had already lost drifted in our minds. My desperation was starting to fade out and fatigue replaced it. Gally was way too big for me to escape his death grip.

"Nadia, I forbid you from going out into the Maze," Alby told me sternly. "Ever."

I settled down, slowly beginning to relax in Gally's grip. I suddenly felt very stupid. There was no way I could pace myself all the way to Section Four, get Ben, and then run back. It simply couldn't be done.

Gally set me back down on my feet and blocked my path so I couldn't reach the Maze if I wanted to. I nodded at Alby's order and tried to control my heavy breathing.

"Okay," I said. "Okay."

Then I plopped down on the grass and tried to ignore the burning of my leg.

-:-

"He's gonna be okay, right?" Colt asked worriedly, voice barely audible above the sound of Ben's screams from upstairs. "I feel like it's been forever and a day since he was Stung."

"It's only been a week," I reminded him gently. "Usually it takes two. He'll be fine."

Colt and I were seated in the foyer of the Homestead, where an overstuffed couch was the only piece of furniture. We tried to act normally, but with Ben's screams ringing in our ears and invading every thought, it was a difficult task. Colt had his eyes squeezed shut.

"I just - he's my best friend," he told me. "I never expected he'd get Stung."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I kept quiet.

Colt's voice turned hard and murderous when he spoke. "I'm going to kill the Creators for all they've done to us."

Ben's shouts started to die down after that declaration, like he was satisfied with the threat. Only the sound of Clint and Jeff's faint voices from their room upstairs could be heard. They hadn't let anyone in due to the possibility of Ben being dangerous. Especially with the fact he was a Runner, he had muscle and height to him. If he decided to attack, it would definitely end badly.

"I--"

Before I could get the rest of my sentence out, the Greenie Alarm started to blare. I turned toward the door and got to my feet immediately. The loud sound pierced my ears as I waved Colt over. "C'mon!"

He shook his head. "No, you go ahead. I'm gonna stay here."

I nodded. "Suit yourself."

When I walked out of the Homestead, most of the Gladers were already surrounding the Box or still jogging toward it. There was still a good twenty-five minutes until it would arrive, so I decided to take my time walking over there. I couldn't fight down the excitement I felt. Yeah, we've had many Greenies, but a new addition to the Glade always got me curious.

As I approached the Box, I caught sight of Minho and Newt in the front. The crowd parted for me so I could hobble toward them. Minho sent me a smile and pulled me into his side; we hadn't seen each other all day.

"Hey," he greeted cheerfully.

"Hey," I responded in a less chipper tone. Thoughts of Ben were still on my mind. "What d'you think the Newbie will be like?"

"I hope they're not another Alex," Clark muttered distastefully. I hadn't noticed him before, meaning he must have just come up there by us. He was glowering at the closed Box Doors.

My stomach churned. I hadn't thought about Alex in a while, and I kind of wished Clark hadn't brought him up so he would stay off my mind. Even for a month after he was Banished, I still felt like he was watching.

"If he acts even remotely the same as Alex did, I'm throwing him down the Hole," Gally declared with a sneer.

"Gally," Newt scolded with a frown. "Give him a chance."

"I gave Alex a chance and look how that worked out!" he exclaimed angrily, face flushing slightly. "I'm done."

The Greenie Alarm cut off abruptly as a mechanical screech came from the Box, meaning it stopped. Everyone shared a look. Gally, Minho, Alby, and Frypan started forward to open the Doors. I waited with baited breath as they heaved them to the side until a line of sunlight revealed the new Greenie.

"Look at that shank."

"How old is he?"

"Looks like a klunk in a T-shirt."

"You're the klunk, shuck-face."

"Dude, it smells like feet down there!"

"Hope you enjoyed the one-way trip, Greenie."

"Ain't no ticket back, bro."

I shook my head at the usual display of comments before peering down at the kid. He looked to be about my age, with dark brown hair that was plastered down on his forehead. His hands shielded his face from view in order to block out the sun, but from what I could see, he looked pale and thin.

The Greenie slowly lowered his hands and squinted up at us. His face was screwed up in confusion, panic, and I could all but sense his fear even from where I was standing. His brown eyes swept across our faces. They lingered on me for a fraction of a bit longer than the rest, but I assumed it was because of the fact I was the only girl and dismissed it. I was used to it.

I half-expected to see Nick preparing to help him up, but it took everyone a second to realize he wasn't there. Alby shook his head and tossed the rope into the Box. There were no comforting words like Nick would have said, and a sour lump lodged into my throat.

Minho, Frypan, and Alby all heaved the Greenie up onto the ground- Gally had disappeared. As soon as he was almost to the grass, people swarmed around him to help him up.

"Nice to meet ya, shank. Welcome to the Glade."

THE END.

-----

*cue my evil laughter*

honestly, it was hilarious to see all of you panicking because you thought nadia was going to die. nope!! i just decided to end it like this

heads up: there WILL be an epilogue. that'll give you more insight to what happens in the future!!

thank you all for reading and i'll see you soon!

-kristyn

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