It seemed like everyone was running towards the doors with torches, panic being the only emotion that they knew. I was quick to follow after Thomas had started running with them, moving towards the walls to see what laid ahead. As I jogged, my hands started to shake in uncertain anticipation of what laid in the near future.

Eventually, I stopped running as the tips of my boots met the area where grass turned into cement. I suddenly realized what the non-Runners felt like when they were awaiting for our arrival earlier today. It seemed so long ago that I was waiting for Minho and Alby to return, already preparing myself for the worst. But now I knew how it felt. How Newt felt. It was unsettling. Nerve-wracking. I can't imagine waiting everyday by these walls to see if your friends made it back, or if the walls prevented them from doing so. Everything we did revolved around when these doors opened and when they closed. Now they weren't closing. And everything was a mess.

I waited for the familiar sound of metal screeching against metal—a sound I didn't think I would ever be grateful to hear. But now that we had stepped into a new kind of uncharted territory, all I wanted to do was go back to the way things were. Of course I wanted to get out, but I didn't know that it would come with all of these hardships.

But instead of the regular metal against metal, a horrendous booming noise sounded throughout the entire Glade, making every single person stop in their tracks and flinch, some even screamed. The girl to my left clutched the sides of her head as though something was hurting her, and I felt my hand fly into Newts. He gripped back immediately, almost like he had the same idea as I did.

The grinding of metal sounded again, but when I looked up at the East doors, they weren't closing. Turning my head to see Newt, I saw that he had his entire body turned towards the west wall.

Oh shit, I thought. I watched the west wall doors open up, something I had no idea they could do. I didn't even have time to panic as two more booming noises sounded exactly like the first one, and the north and south doors began to open. I gulped and opened my mouth to speak, breaking the terrified silence that had bestowed upon all of us.

"Um...well, this is certainly not good. Very very not good," As soon as I got the words out of my mouth, it registered through my mind that all four walls were open, and the Grievers were coming out. But as quickly as the panic seemed through me, it ended, and I suddenly flipped the switch from being a scared little shank to the one who had beaten Minho about five times in one night. I turned to Chuck, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, "I need you to go to the Council Hall. Okay? Start barricading the doors."

"Winston, you go with him," Newt added. The Slicer nodded and grabbed Chuck as they raced away and to the Council Hall.

Gally turned to some random person, probably his friend, "Get the others. Tell them to go in the forest and go hide, now!"

I turned to Minho and looked into his eyes, "I need you to go and grab every weapon you can find, okay? I'll meet you at Council Hall."

Newt grabbed my side, "I'm not leaving you..."

"It's okay, Mae," Thomas added, pointing to the girl, "Teresa and I'll go and get Alby. You go with Minho."

I didn't have time to nod or to protest before I was being pulled in the opposite direction and back to the Homestead. I followed behind Newt and Minho, who turned around to me, "Hey, shank?"

"What?" I panted.

"Do you remember those fighting moves I taught you after Ben got banished?"

I nodded, recalling the memories of that night. Minho had made me feel so much better about the whole Ben dying situation. But most of all, he made me feel strong. He taught me how to use a spear and he taught me how to not doubt myself. How could I possibly forget that?

"Yeah," I agreed, "What about it?"

He sighed and whipped open the door to the Homestead, "We might have to pull a few out of our pocket tonight. You're best with a spear, so I'll give you one of those."

The three of us headed through the mess of picnic tables and to a door in the corner. I tried to tune out the sounds of people screaming behind us—right now I needed to focus on the weapons. Getting them to the rest of the Gladers and figuring out how to keep my friends safe.

"Okay," I said as Minho pulled down a string, making light spread through the room, "Newt, are you okay with a knife?"

He nodded, heading over to one of the boxes, "Yeah."

I grabbed a handful of knives and threw them out onto one of the picnic tables outside. Only looking up when a scream was heard. My eyes met the broken window as soon as a random boy—I couldn't tell who it was—was being picked up by the all too familiar claw of a Griever, and was thrown somewhere in the Glade, leaving his scream to be nothing but an echo to the minds who were too focused on saving us, but to me, it was like the world was just flipped upside down.

"I just watched someone die," I spoke my thoughts aloud, not even sure if anyone could hear me. But once again, the flip switched, and I came out of my depressing void, "Guys, we need to hurry!"

I pushed my way back into the weapons room, grabbing two spears that Minho was holding and I shoved them into my holster. I looked at both of my friends and the copious amounts of weapons they were holding. They looked like they were about to go into a World War. In some ways, they were. A war of the Glade. I nodded in approval before quickly tying my hair into a bun on the back of my head. The baby hairs flew out to frame my face, and I blew them away, only meeting eyes with Newt for a second before I turned around and ran out to the chaos of what was now our home.

Only letting my head dart in different directions for a few seconds, I waved everyone towards the Council Hall and started running as quickly as I could. Next to us, boys were being picked up into the air and thrown. I seriously thought about saving one of them, but I think that would just cause more unnecessary problems. We just needed to get to Thomas so we all could be safe. Those boys were already being grabbed by the Griever when I looked at them, so it's not like I had a moment to throw a spear or push a kid out of the way so they could take me.

"Oh shit!" Newt yelled from my left, pointing at something in the distance. My eyes followed his finger, meeting the scene of Thomas, Teresa, Alby, Clint and Jeff all reaching for their weapons as Thomas challenged the thing just like he had done in the Maze. I rolled my eyes and groaned, sprinting towards the group. I heard Newt call my name from behind, but I ignored him, pulling the spear out of my satchel and throwing it with all of my might at the bulbous creature.

It screamed in pain, and as soon as I kept running, the other boys behind me were quick to launch their spears at the Griever as well, distracting it from tackling Thomas and the others. Minho moved himself to help Jeff carry Alby, and I jumped down into the Council Hall, taking Chuck with me to assure he got in safely. Thomas was the last one in, shutting the door behind him while Winston and Newt barricaded the door.

We all moved back, waiting in silence as our hearts pounded against our chests. I kept an arm out in front of Chuck, prohibiting him from coming any farther. Newt was right next to me, holding onto his small machete for dear life while I clutched the wood of my spear. We all flinched as the Griever banged against the doors, trying with all its might to break it down and just get one of us, maybe leaving the rest to suffer. Maybe that's what they wanted to do. Make us suffer.

The only thing we could hear was the sounds of our heavy breathing as we all remained silent form the fear that raked our bodies. My palms began to sweat, and the knives in my pockets dug into my skin. It wasn't enough to cut me, but it was enough to make them noticeable. My arm was shaking as Chuck placed his own hand on my shoulder in attempt to try to calm me down.

Another banging sound was heard as the long metal claws moved form one door to the other, looking for any way in. The growls were loud and threatening, almost like an angry dog. If only dogs were big and snotty.

Suddenly, the Griever jumped onto the ceiling, making everyone look up and move to the other side of the building, opposite of the way the creature was moving. Newt grabbed my arm and pulled me up the steps, and I kept my fingers clutched around Chuck's wrist, pulling him up with us. Dust fell from the sky, and I almost considered holding my breath to avoid another situation like what happened this afternoon in the Maze. But I swallowed and let out a shaky sigh, darting my eyes around each of the people who were squished inside this small hut.

When the silence became too much, the Griever suddenly crammed it's claw into the center of the building, reaching for the one stick that held everything together. It gave the pole one tug, and in one swift motion, the ceiling fell onto all of us, making me yelp and let go of Chuck's wrist. Broken pieces of wood fell on top of me, making my legs give out. I stumbled to the ground and tried to get up with everything I had, but it seemed the more I tried, the more the ceiling began to fall, and the more dust I breathed in. The Griever growls were too loud as the people around me began to crawl out from under the rubble and to their feet, leaving me buried under the roof.

"Mae?" A familiar British voice called my name, becoming more panicked by the second, "Where's Mae!"

"I'm here!" I was quick to respond, reaching my hand out as far as it would go, "Pull me out! I can't move!"

Thomas, Minho, and Newt all took my hand and dragged me out from under the fallen wood. I immediately stood to my feet and wiped some of the dirt off of myself, looking around for the chubby little boy as soon as I thanked them for saving me. I coughed once, and wiped my eyes of the dirt, almost stumbling over on top of the little boy. He pat my back, helping only a little bit.

"Help!" Someone screamed. I saw Thomas move towards another hand that was reaching out. As soon as he touched the person's fingers, and I moved forward to try to help him, the boy was pulled backwards by something and his screams were suddenly cut off. I huffed in frustration and sadness that I wasn't able to help the boy...whoever it was. It sounded like Clint. My heart dropped to my feet at the realization.

I watched in horror as the boys all moved towards the other side of the Hall, the Griever had separated us from what it seemed like. I met eyes with Newt, who immediately screamed my name and launched forward with Thomas. In horror, I turned around and saw the griever claw open, heading straight for Chuck.

"No!" I screamed as I launched myself forward and pushed the little boy. I felt the cold metal around my left leg, and I screamed as I was lifted into the air, away from my friends. I reached out for anyone I could grab, grunting and kicking my feet, trying to hit wherever the Griever head was. My hand clutched to someone else's, but I didn't care who's it was. I didn't even register a face until Thomas had grabbed my forearm.

"Don't let go Mae!" He told me as though that would help.

"No shit!" I yelled back at him. I screamed once more as the Griever's grip tightened around my leg. It wasn't enough to break skin, but it would definitely bruise later. Newt was screaming for other people to help, and I just stared back at him, accepting my fate. To my surprise, I wasn't scared, I was in pain from the thing gripping my leg. I sighed shaking my head as I felt the grip tighten. I clenched my teeth and let out another groan.

"That's my bloody girlfriend you piece of shit!" He screamed at the Griever behind me, while trying to pull me back. I had no time to smile from the realization that he called me his girlfriend, but instead I screamed out in another fit of pain—the Griever claw squeezed my leg tighter.

"Newt," I called down to him, looking into his frantic eyes. He shook his head as though he knew what I was going to say. It was like he ignored me as he pulled me harder, "It's okay. I'm not scared. I'm—"

Suddenly, a heart-wrenching scream of attack sounded, and Alby made his way into view. He had a piece of wood, and he started swinging like a madman at the griever claw attacking me. Minho, Thomas, and Newt pulled me harder, not even paying attention to Alby as he beat the Griever like he was getting revenge on it.

"Not her! Not Her!" He shouted with every hit like it was a chant. I was relieved—flattered even that Alby had cared so much for me. But the noise turned into ringing as the metal vibrated with every hit. I screamed as loud as I could, hoping that would take the pain away, but it didn't. Alby kept hitting the claw, making my leg burn. I almost shouted at him to stop, but I didn't have the strength. I was holding on for dear life to my friends as I cried in defeat, kicking my right leg around as my left one went limp from the grasp.

Then, as quickly as it started, I felt the claw being torn out of my leg, and I fell to the ground with a thud and a groan of pain. My hands immediately flew to my left leg and I cried out in pain and hit the ground as the boys all fell to the ground around me. Another scream sounded from the space above me.

"Mae, you okay?" Thomas asked me as I coughed and tried to move at the same time. I shook my head, clenching my teeth at the pain around my thigh. Somehow, I managed to get myself to sit up straight, and my eyes immediately flew to a strange piece of metal that had been knocked off of the Griever. I grabbed it in my hand and looked up to Alby, who was peering down at me through clenched teeth and heavy breaths.

"Thanks, Alby," I murmured, coughing again. I handed the piece of metal to Chuck, "You hang onto this. Where's Newt?"

"I'm here," He responded quickly, shoving his way past Teresa and Minho to wrap his hands around my face. At his touch, I almost burst into tears. He pressed his lips to my forehead hard, "Are you okay?"

The pain in my leg started to subside, and I looked down for any trace of blood, but there was none. I nodded towards him and rubbed my thigh, trying to roll over so I could stand. Minho and Newt grabbed my waist, helping me to my feet and keeping me stable. Minho suggested that Jeff check it out, but I shook my head, telling him that I'd be fine.

"I'll only have a limp for a while," I breathed out a laugh, looking at Newt, "We can be twins..."

The boy sighed in relief and pressed his forehead against mine, "Don't ever bloody do that again. Okay?"

"It's not like I was trying to-"

"Alby!" Thomas' scream interrupted me, making my head snap up in the direction of the two boys. Before I could even get a solid thought through my head, the Griever claw rammed through the last of the Council Hall, grabbing Alby by the waist and slamming him into a beam before beginning to pull him out.

"Grab him!" Newt screamed to someone before letting go of my arm, launching himself forward to help his best friend. One of the large beams fell in front of his body, preventing him from getting anywhere closer to Thomas and the Leader. My heart beat against my ribcage as I tried to move forward, but Minho grabbed onto my waist, holding me back from trying to save anyone else. I thrashed against his grip, trying to get to Alby.

He's gone through hell and back these past few days, and I knew that if he were to live—if Thomas pulled him back somehow—then he would be such a helpful outlet. He remembered. He could maybe tell us what made him say those things in the Med-Jack hut before everything went to shit. Why Thomas was their favorite. Who was they? He could tell me why he always tried to protect me as if he knew something about me that nobody else did...We could keep our leader. Keep Newt's best friend.

But when I saw him mumble a few words to Thomas, I knew it was over. He suddenly let go of Thomas' grasp, almost like he were greeting Death like an old friend. The Griever pulled him up and into the sky, making all of us shout after him like he still had the chance of being saved. In a frantic mess, I darted my head towards Newt.

"Alby!" He screamed. I shook off Minho's grip and limped my way over to him, almost being knocked over by Thomas, who was running through the maze of people trying to get out of the Hall. As much as I wanted to console Newt, we couldn't loose Thomas too. So I just grabbed Newt's hand and dragged him out of the destroyed building, trying not to scream out in pain with every step I took. All of us followed the boy outside, and suddenly I wished I'd just stayed in the building.

It was gone. The Glade. Everything we've worked so hard on. All of it was set ablaze as the Grievers trotted back through the doors with Alby, almost like they had gotten what they had come here for. Destroying the Glade and taking half of our Gladers was only a small bonus. It smelled like charred meat and burnt grass. It was hot, only adding to the sweat and dirt that had perspired on my forehead through the past events. I shifted my weight to my right leg, feeling the small sting in my left thigh that needed to be released.

"Where is everybody?" Someone asked from behind us. We all ignored him as we peered around for anyone else, any sighs of a living soul on the face of what was our small world. That was what it was for us. No matter how long we've been here. We had our memories wiped for some weird reason, and this was all we've ever known. It's like reaching into a fishbowl and choosing to live in a Glade surrounded with people you don't know, and then learning to love it along the way. It was our home. Our safe place from the craziness of whatever the outside world contained. Everyday, we would return to this place, like a father coming home from a long day of work. And now the house was burned to the floor, leaving nothing but a pile of dust and dirt.

"What's that over there?" Someone pointed in the distance. We all turned our heads to look where he was pointing, and I swear I almost jumped up and hugged the person who was walking mercilessly towards us with no intention to stop. But when the smoke cleared, the tall brooding body of the boy with Satan eyebrows appeared, and I limped forward in front of Newt.

"Gally..." Thomas tried to reason with him before he raised his fist and connected it hard with Thomas' face, sending him to the ground.

"Hey!" I called, grabbing his hand and moving my arms around his waist as I swept my right leg under his ankles, sending him to the ground in a grunt. The boys stood over Gally as he squirmed from my grasp.

"This is all you, Thomas!" He yelled at the boy who was startled from the sudden violence. Minho was yelling at Gally, who didn't listen. All I was trying to do was swallow my screams of pain as Gally thrashed around and punched my thigh, not even knowing that I was grasped by a Griever claw there, "You heard Alby! He's one of them!"